So this is my first *real* attempt at a Severus/Hermione fic, and I know some of my friends have been dying for a new one, and gosh darn it I wrote one!

I AM NOT JK ROWLING. IF I WAS (well first I wouldn't be writing a fan fiction…) I WOULD HAVE PUT SEVERUS AND HERMIONE TOGETHER!

I wonder if authors actually write fan fiction…hmm…

And on with the story…

It was a dull morning in late June in the outskirts of London, England, and Hermione Granger was getting up to start another day before heading off to the Burrow.

Now Reader, before you go on with this story, I must acknowledge a few things. First, my name is Alethea, and I am about to tell you of the fate, trails, love, and tragic loss that our dear friend Hermione Granger will soon go through.

Please understand that everything I tell you now is the truth, nothing is tweaked to make the story better, nothing is taken away for a better story plot, and nothing new was added for things to make more sense. The reason I decided to do this was because of the following: Life isn't always perfect.

Things don't always make sense. Sometimes, you just have to "go with the flow" and keep your head low. Sometime you are faced with problems that seem to have no resolution, and as some of you reading this already know, it can sometimes turn out true.

I am not sure if any of you readers have bothered reading this little introduction, or have skipped over to get to the "juicy" parts of the story. It doesn't bother me, really. I will never really know if you have.

As for most of you, I am just being a bother, nuisance, and quite frankly wasting your time. But they are your words not mine, my friends. So, to no longer bore some of you, I shall continue with the story…

Hermione stretched, yawned, and stumbled clumsily to the bathroom to shower. Her father would be at work by now, and her mother would be at the neighbor's mildly disguising random gossip that spread quickly in the small village-like town outside London.

You see, readers, Hermione was never one to complain. Sure she may have suggestions that led to bettering something, but she never openly complained her thoughts. To her, there was a difference between complaining about petty things, and standing up for what you believe in no matter what other people say.

But back to the subject on complaints—there was one thing that she wanted to voice, especially to her parents. You see, her parents were always out and about. Her father had a great business in the city of London which required countless hours a week to put food in their stomachs and pretty objects in their house.

Her mother was also never in the house. Well, as long as Hermione was in it, she was never seen in that house except at night at around 10, then she would be out of the house with some excuse at around 9 in the morning. Sometimes it bothered our dear friend Hermione, but she taught herself self control and decided to just go with the flow and keep her head low, as I so smartly say.

Hermione's parents were never around as I said before, which excludes holidays and weekends. If her father isn't at home, he was at a local bar doing God knows what. However, he always works on holidays. Even if they are on the weekends. Hermione was skeptical about that, thanks to her gifted brain of figuring people out.

If Hermione wanted one talent besides her dense intellect, it was the ability to read people. It was a skill you needed to be stealthy, to keep secrets, and just who to tell those secrets to.

But back to her mother now, she was also another thought. She was always at a neighbors' house. Even on a Christmas a few years back when Hermione came home from Hogwarts, her father was at work and her mother was at a neighbor's house a few blocks down. It hurt Hermione, but she learned to deal with it.

But my friends do not feel bad for our new friend. Yes, I admit, that she was not brought up too well, but that doesn't mean that she herself will turn out bad. Let me explain. In most cases, when you have dysfunctional parents, you will normally have a misbehaving, selfish, and/or bratty child. It just makes logical sense.

But a real miracle is when you have parents who don't care for each other, and only work or friends, or gossip yet you produce this child full of humility, kindness, intellect, and love. Think about it for just a moment before our story continues!

Everyone in their lives knows a group of adults who may not be the most…oh how do I put this… humble or caring people. Now look at their child or children. Are they like their parents? Greedy, self-centered, etc…

Or are they kind, loving, and well just like our friend Hermione is? Odds are, they are like their parents. Like a said, a real miracle is someone who is a truly saint-like person, despite the life they had growing up.

I am not sure, reader, if you have thought of a specific person, or persons as I told you this (or perhaps you have just skipped over this and looked for works in quotations which meant someone is saying something in the story and is more interesting that what a mere child is saying) but for me I am thinking of a specific family—a specific boy—a specific story, and I would like to tell you this memory I have before I continue with our friend Hermione. Do not fret; we will come back to her…

A meager looking boy around the age of 9 huddled in a corner as he listened to his mother and father arguing while letting a few stray tears leak down his cheeks and splash softly on the floor.

Even thought this kind of thing happened daily, it still brought him to silent tears every time. All of a sudden the arguing stopped abruptly. The boy's eyes narrowed. The arguments continued for a much longer time than this…

He slowly stood up, cautiously looking at the door for any sign of moment through the creeks of the door or continuation of the argument. On the contrary, the door flung open and revealed a tall man, built like his son, only with a slightly larger hooked nose.

He strode over his son with a look of disgust and revulsion. The boy was scared to death on the inside, but held a look of indifference. The father slapped his son across his face, and the boy let out a muffled scream.

"Don't you look at me like that," the father muttered menacingly. The boy cowered, and internally scolded himself for being weak and easily manipulated.

The boy now turned his scared look to one of anger and he said in a cracked voice, "Where is my mother?"

The man let out a sick laugh and pointed to the room in which he had just come from. The boy's black eyes widened in horrification and made a bee line to the room.

Laughing maliciously the man said, "You will end up where she will be going. Don't let her lies fool you boy," But the boy wasn't listening to his father, he was bent down on his knees next to the body of his dying mother. The only one who showed him any sign of love or kindness.

"Mum?" The small boy asked caressing his mother's cheeks. The broken and seemingly lifeless body fumbled through her pockets and pulling out a small box, and in a small wavering voice, she whispered, "No matter what, do not stop believing,"

When the young boy went to open the box, her hand stopped him. He looked up (or down rather) at her with a questioningly look in which his mother replied, "Not now. When you are your happiest, open it. It is magical sweetie," His eyes brightened slightly. Whenever his mother mentioned something about magic, his spirits were lifted no matter what his cruel father put him through, "Do not open it unless you feel you will forever be happy. If you must wait forever, then wait. It will present you with a gift. The box knows when you are at its happiest,"

She gasped slightly from the loss of blood and pain her body was going through, but continued a bit more rushed, "It will work once. It will give you what you need at the moment you are happiest,"

"But mother," He started questioningly, "If I am my happiest, I won't need anything right?"

She smiled at the young boy's intelligence and said, "My boy. My smart, little know it all," she joked stroking his almost shoulder length hair, "When the box wants itself to be opened, it will let you know,"

"How?" He asked

She smiled, this time a bit less and said, "You will know boy, you will know. You are so smart, so smart. Please wait, please wait until you feel like nothing in the world will get in the way of your happiness. Do it for yourself. Do it for me,"

"I will, mummy," the young boy said, voice cracking from sorrow, "I promise you,"

"That's my boy," She smiled. After a few silent moments of the boy caressing her cheek, and her ruffling his raven hair, her hand fell to her side, and her body stopped quivering.

Even though dead, she had a small smile on her face. The boy wiped the last tears on his face and looked out the window revealing a dark, dreary front yard. He smiled slightly and promised himself once more that he would wait until the right moment.

He pocketed the box, and with a last look and kiss to his mother, he left to his room hoping that his father would give his mother a proper burial, for the boy knew he would have no say.

When he landed on his small and uncomfortable bed, he pulled out the box and saw with awe and surprise words were erasing themselves on the box, and then in deep gold rewrote, "Now Property of Severus Snape," engraved in the small maroon box.

He now knew it was indeed magical, not that he doubted his mother. But now, he had something to look forward to. He knew his mother must have been at her happiest at some point, so he must! But then his heart sank. His mother was murdered, so obviously something mad must have gone wrong and she was no longer happy…then it hit the young boy.

Maybe his mother opened the box too soon, or too late. Maybe the magic box was cursed and if you didn't open it at the right time, it would curse you forever. He wasn't too sure, but he was sure that if his mother opened it too soon or too late, he would only open it at the right time. He would do it for him, and for his mother.

He heard rustling and grumbling downstairs which must have meant his father was moving the now lifeless body. The body crawled under the rough covers and cried himself to sleep, only his mother and his cruel father on his mind. Not that there was much more to think about.

The boy grew up into a teenager, then to a young adult, and before he knew it, he had made so many wrong decisions in his life that he thought he must be ending up like his mother.

There were times that he thought he was at his happiest, but for some reason, he felt like he was rushing it. For instance, he met a pretty young girl named Lily Evans. She was the only person now in the world who cared about him, and he thought about opening the box.

But while he was at his dorm room at Hogwarts, when he found the box, he fiddled with it before he made his decision. He looked it over and right at the bottom on the back in the smallest letters, it read, "Not now," He knew that wasn't there before, and he threw it on his bed in surprise and horror. How…how did it know?

When he found the courage to look at it again, the words disappeared. He placed the box back in a safe spot where no one could find it but him, and decided against opening it for now, listening to the warning.

He regretted it though. Soon after, Lily and his enemy were murdered (he didn't mind that the enemy was murdered, only that his wife Lily was killed). When he found her body he sunk to the floor, sobbing.

His fault. His fault. He kept telling himself. If he opened the box…he could have prevented this. He held her in his arms and cried for what felt like hours.

He rocked her body and told her he loved her and he never stopped. He told her that he always hoped that one day should would come to him and proclaim her love, even thought he knew in his heart she never would.

The young man didn't loosen his grip until her heard movement outside. With one last loving glance, he turned his attention is the young boy crying silently in the crib. The man squinted at the child's forehead. Right now he had no time to think about the Dark Magic that was in the boys forehead, only that he looked at the child with a sense of need.

Right now, he wanted that little crying boy to his son with Lily. He wanted to be the one murdered with Lily so he could be with her in Heaven (if he could make it there that is). His expression turned to one of envy and pure hatred.

The boy was everything (except Lily) that he wanted, and he could never be his. He would forever be Lily's and James Potter's, not his and Lily's. With one last livid glance and the chubby infant, he disaparated on the spot back to Spinner's End to cry some more over the loss of his one and only love. Well, what he thought was his only love…

Now readers, I know that you know that our friend Hermione and Severus soon will be together. You know that, because of what you searched, right? But that's not why you have decided to read this story. You want to know how.

How on Earth, could Severus love Hermione, and vice versa? It makes no logic sense! But like I said before, life doesn't always make sense, you just have to except how it is and make the best out of a terrible situation.

And that my friends, is how the lovely relationship out of dear friends Hermione and Severus came to be—a terrible fate and situation.

Before you read the next chapter, brood on this for a moment: You've heard the phrase "expect the unexpected" right? Well, let us go a bit deeper on that shall we?

If you expect the unexpected, that does make the unexpected expected, but it also makes the expected unexpected because you tell yourself that this seems like it will happen 99% of the time, so I'm just going to rule that out. But, if you concentrate hard, the newly unexpected that was once expected now becomes unexpected, which means that it is now unexpectedly expected because of our phrase "expecting the unexpected". Hope that made some sense there…

Just bear with me as I tell the tale of A Journey.

So that was more of a preface than an actual chapter…if only that was an options…anyway, I will update soon if I get some nice reviews, sometimes my fics go with like, one review and that kinda makes me wanna cry after all my effort, so even if you are reading this and there is another chapter next, please just review it. A simple "love it" or "hate it" would do :)

Thanks so much,

VampireGirl

P.S: Like how I added the know it all? o_O