A/N: It's been a while since I've posted a story! I hope you enjoy it.

Beloved by Queen of Imladris

Rating: T/M, one-shot

Angst, semi-AU, post-war

Hermione/Snape, Harry/Snape (sort of), mentions of Hermione/Ron

Warnings: Brain damage, character death

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Harry hadn't wanted to hurt anyone. It was just certain circumstances had forced him to take action. Of course, everyone seemed to be pitying him, telling him that he was suffering from shock, trauma, and god-knows-what-else, telling him to take it easy and rest.

Well, he wasn't going to do that. He was Harry-bloody-Potter, he'd saved the whole damned world from Voldemort, thank you very much, and he wasn't going to take this.

Take what? His conscience asked.

Harry didn't know for sure. The bewildered, confused attitude that Hermione was currently showering him with, perhaps. And Snape's attitude. Snape, who was still playing idiot, who refused to believe that Harry loved him and that they were meant to be together. Snape, who supposedly loved Hermione.

Snape—Severus. Severus and Hermione. Such a coupling made no sense to Harry. Hermione was supposed to love Ron. She was supposed to marry Ron after the war, and she was supposed to give Harry looks of adoring respect for the rest of her life as she bore child after red-haired child. Of course, things had taken a slight detour when Ron was killed in the open warfare that unfortunately occurred during their graduation ceremony. But still, there were other boys who could easily take the place of Ron. But Snape?

Severus belonged to Harry. Harry knew that Severus was his, and that their love was a fabled love to be respected and envied by all. Harry wasn't sure when it was, exactly, that he had discovered this deep and passionate love for Severus—in fact, Harry hadn't really realized that he liked men until after the war, after he had woken up in the infirmary months after the defeat of Voldemort.

Not that it mattered. The only important matter was that Harry loved Severus, and that Severus loved Harry. Severus was being fairly stubborn, though—the memories from months earlier were still fresh.

It had occurred in the infirmary, right after Harry had killed Voldemort. Or had it? Harry recalled Hermione's pronouncement that months had passed since Voldemort's demise, more than a year. And Harry—Harry had lain in Hogwarts' infirmary, resting in a coma for more than 12 months, finally waking with a terrible headache long after the celebrations were over. Harry had been disappointed; he had wanted to see the crowds showering him with awe and adoration. He remembered Hermione chiding his efforts to leave his cot:

"You'll want to be careful, Harry, you shouldn't leave the infirmary too soon. A fair amount of Voldemort's power hit you in the head as he died; we're not sure if it caused any damage or not—to your brain, you know."

And Harry had just nodded, chatting with his friend, until Snape—now Severus—had come in, and Harry's heart began to thud. And then, with his affections realized in his mind, Harry watched as Snape handed Hermione a potions bottle. He remembered each movement; the subtle curve of Severus' lips, the gentle touch that had occurred as the bottle was handed over, the soft smile on Hermione's lips and in her eyes as she'd looked back at the Potions master. And as Harry sat in the infirmary, dazed, he listened to Hermione chatter about how she missed Ron, and her new job as the Transfiguration professor—oh !—and did she mention that she was seeing Severus?

Harry had stormed out of the infirmary in a blinded rage, much to Hermione's confusion.

He had nursed his grudge against her while he slunk about the castle, first pitying her—she obviously did not know about the love he and Severus shared. Then, he was annoyed with her, wondering why on earth she couldn't bloody well understand that Severus was his, and that she'd need to go find another bloke. Weeks later, his annoyance had changed to anger when he saw them kiss in the dungeons (not that he'd been following Severus, or anything).

Finally, passionate hate for the girl who had stolen his lover, his soulmate. Harry had burst into Snape's office one night, demanding a confession of love and a denouncement of Hermione. Severus' bitter denial of the knowledge of any affairs that had passed between himself and "Mr. Potter" was quite painful, as was his admission that he "cared very much for" Hermione. Even more painful were his last words to Harry that night:

"Mr. Potter, I believe that you may have suffered some brain injuries due to excessive contact with Voldemort's power some months ago, and that it would be safest for you to not wander about the castle. Allow me to escort you back to the infirmary."

Such words, spoken so coldly! Snape had sneered at the end, ever so subtly. Harry, torn apart by the brutality of Severus' unfeeling response, had refused the escort and retreated to the infirmary alone. It was there, alone on his hospital cot, that Harry realized what was happening. Hermione, who had once been his friend, had brainwashed Snape, his beloved, against Harry. He immediately saw through her malicious plan, hated her for it, and even hated Snape for a moment, just for good measure. But now, Harry knew what he had to do. He had to save his sweet, sweet Severus from the cruel, calculating hands of Hermione.

And now, Harry was going to carry out his own plan. Taking hold of his wand, Harry left the infirmary, where he was meant to stay, and headed out into the main castle. It was late evening, and students would be in their dormitories by now. Down the stairs, across a hall, and Harry opened the door to an office he knew well.

At her desk, Hermione looked up from her papers with a confused glance.

"Harry? Shouldn't you be in the infirmary? The mediwitch said that your head-"

"Imperio."

Her window, overlooking a stone courtyard some six or seven stories below, was open to the night air. Perfect.

She was under his control now. Just a few steps, stand on a desk to reach the sill, there's a good girl, now say goodbye—

Hermione turned to look at him from her place on the windowsill. "Goodbye, Harry," she said complacently, a docile smile on her lips and a vacant look in her eyes.

Then she was gone, at Harry's command. He felt the Imperius break when she collided with the cobblestones. Not a word out of her, though, Harry thought. Always a brilliant girl, Hermione was.

He left the empty office to find Severus, his sweet, beloved Severus who was still defiant. Now nothing could come between them.

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Well, I hope you enjoyed that. Please review!

Queen of Imladris