Note: This came to me minutes ago, and I had to write it. I've been having lots of muse-attacks lately, please excuse me. Anyway, this is AU, yes (HBP never happened), but it has one DH spoiler. A very tiny one. And, there's a bit of OOC-ness here, since I'm not even going to bother trying to make a romance of this pairing and keep both in character. Oh, and if I get one review saying that someone hates the pairing and therefore hates my story blahblahblahetc., then I'm never going to write again. (:
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It had been five years. The disbelief of it all still echoed through her mind constantly, even as others around her tried to forget that it had ever happened. But she couldn't forget, she couldn't shake the memories out of her head even as five years passed. The demise of Lord Voldemort was pale in comparison to the demise of the innocent people he had taken away from her, from them, from everyone. And although Harry and Ginny were happily married, and although Neville and Luna were happily engaged, she didn't think she could feel any sort of happiness again. Numb. Numb for five years.
She dressed silently, wearing a conservative black dress that hung loosely over her. She hadn't cared what she looked like ever since he was taken from her, and she knew that never again she would try to impress anyone with superficialities. She had only done that with person, and it was going to stay that way. She slipped on her Mary Janes, knowing that she was going to look plain beside the extravagant Ginny, Luna, and Parvati, but she had been doing so for years. At first her lifelessness had concerned Harry and Ron, but now they were so caught up in other affairs that they couldn't be bothered with her continuum of depression.
She slipped a simple purse into her hand, and Apparated to Harry and Ginny's flat. She was almost certain that Ginny would be announcing her pregnancy – it was about time! – but she figured she should go anyway. While the boys might have neglected her seemingly decreasing condition, Ginny and Luna would be sure to Apparate to her flat and drag her to the party if she didn't go on her own. They had done so before.
She entered the decorated living room, feeling her throat constrict. He should be there with her, even if he wouldn't be welcomed warmly. They would all understand that she wanted his company, and that would make it alright. Instead, she was wandering alone, nauseous and light-headed from watching all of the couples around her. Would she ever get over him?
"Hermione!" She reluctantly turned her head to face the owner of the voice, and plastered a smile on her face as Ron kissed her cheek and Harry hugged her simultaneously. She mumbled a small greeting and set her purse on a nearby counter. It didn't matter that nothing was in it; he had given it to her, and that was why she used it.
"How have you been?" Harry asked, and Hermione didn't answer. She instead moved away from him wordlessly. It was the same exchange every time. He would ask her that damned question, and she would be too ashamed to admit that she was still mourning over someone whom he never knew about, instead choosing to leave his company avoid awkward confrontations. It was always the same.
--
Hours had passed, and she still found herself in the forced company of all the happy people she used to call friends, before her newfound grief had taken over. She had been right, though; Harry and Ginny had celebrated her first-ever pregnancy and she would have been happy for them, if she could find the energy to do so. The same glass of wine had sat in her hand for three hours, and yet not a sip was missing. She couldn't drink; he had always hated social drinking. She seemed to have picked up on his habit without realizing it.
"Hey, Hermione, can I have a word?"
She barely recognized the sound of her own name, but after a moment, she realized that Ron was addressing her. Another fake smile wound its way onto her face, and she dully walked over to the corner that Ron had directed her to. He seemed nervous about something, but Hermione couldn't for the life of her try to gather enough emotion to care.
"Listen, Hermione, I know you've been a bit upset about something lately…"
A bit? Lately? She'd been crying every ten minutes for the past five years! Was this going to be some sort of intervention? She was half-tempted to walk away from him right then and there, but for the first time in years, she felt some sort of dull curiosity. She stayed put, and waited for Ron to continue.
"Well, I really care about you. And I think that I can help you be happy again."
Hermione's stomach lurched. Her infamous mind seemed to be working again, finally, and she had an inkling of where this was going. If she was correct in her assumptions, she was sure she would faint, or vomit, or something equally unappealing. This couldn't be happening … please be wrong, Merlin, please let me be wrong …
"Well, what I'm getting at," he continued, lowering himself to one knee, "is that I want to marry you, Hermione. Will you – will you make me the happiest man alive, and marry me?"
Hermione wasn't aware of the audience that had gathered, smiling in anticipation of her answer. All she was aware of was the dizziness that was overcoming her. She couldn't move, she couldn't speak, she couldn't even breathe … and suddenly, dozens of memories infiltrated her mind. Everything she wished could come back to her, everything she had lost when he died, haunted her mind.
-- "Professor, I would like to know why I only received an 'E'. This essay was very much 'O' material." His raised eyebrow infuriated her beyond reason, and had to resist the very childish urge to throw something. All she wanted was a simple explanation! "Ten points from Gryffindor for exceeding the requested length by two feet, using the wrong shade of black for your ink, and writing your name in such loopy cursive," he drawled, looking disinterested as his gaze rested upon the paper he was grading. She was about to shout with indignation, when his obsidian eyes moved to rest on her own chocolate ones. The smirk he wore was not quite as snarky as his normal sneer. "However … twenty points to Gryffindor for expanding my knowledge of the Hermione beamed, opening her mouth to express her deepest gratitude for his words, when he spoke once more. "Oh, and Miss Granger – ten more points from Gryffindor because I know you're just going to tell Potter and However, this didn't bug her. She nodded her head in a silent thank-you toward her professor, knowing that despite his last comment, he had given her something much more important than house points. He had given her what she wanted for seven straight years. He had given her a compliment, and his words meant more to her than everything the other professors had ever said to her. She left with a smile on her face, and that was when she realized that she harbored feelings for her least-liked professor. "Miss Granger, see me after class." Bravely, she walked to the front of the classroom. "What is it, Professor?" she asked. "Would you ever have me arrested?" he asked, his face expressionless, but his eyes full of anxiety. Hermione was completely confused. What sort of a question was that? " Instead of answering, Images swarmed before both of their eyes; images of Hermione's affection toward her professor, images of her fantasies, and images of just Professor When he left her mind, Hermione was beyond embarrassed. Her professor knew that she liked him, and what could be worse than such a revelation? She looked up to face him, refusing to let embarrassment take over her, when she noticed he wasn't at his desk anymore. -- It had been months since that first Hermione turned in his arms to place a soft kiss upon his lips, before snuggling tighter against his chest. The utter perfection of the moment was amazing to her, and she couldn't believe it was really happening. They were both aware how dangerous this was; Hermione would probably be considered a traitor if she "I love you too, Severus." -- She couldn't follow Harry and Ron, no matter what her obligation was. She stood there, watching her love die before her eyes, and she regained her senses. She rushed to his side, cupping his face in her hands. "No, Severus, no, no…" She couldn't speak coherently as she saw his eyes dart to her weakly, and she sobbed a small smile as she looked at the love of her life. "Love – too – My-nee," he mumbled, before his eyelashes fluttered and he was gone. She softly set him back down on the floor, before shakily standing up and looking down at him. He was gone, forever, and she could do nothing about it. With a renewed fervor, she rushed out of the Shrieking Shack, her eyes falling upon the dead body of her beloved one last time before doing so. She had a Dark Lord to bring down. Severus would not die in vain. --
She looked back at the nervous-looking Ron. No one would ever know about Severus; no one could ever know. It had been their secret, and they were going to tell the world together. Now there would never be such a thing as 'together', not with the one she actually loved. Their tragedy was going to be a secret she would never tell, not until she joined him in death.
She choked back a sob – for much different reasons than the rest of them could ever suspect – and closed her eyes. Behind her eyelids, she saw an image of Severus kneeling before her, holding out a ring and inviting her to become Mrs. Severus Snape. In a quiet whisper that only she and the man before her could hear, she said, "Yes, I'll marry you." And then she opened her eyes, and was greeted with a broad smile on Ronald Weasley's face.