A/N: The following ficlet is based on a discussion on WIKTT of the JKR quote "Who on earth would want Snape in love with them? That's a very horrible idea.... there's so much I wish I could say to you, and I can't... can I just say to you that I'm slightly stunned that you've said that and you'll find out why I'm so stunned if you read Book 7." The leading theory on WIKTT was Snape gets killed in 7, but the possibility I find more interesting is Book 7 will reveal something horrible about Snape that makes him not someone you'd want lusting after you. HG/SS. Warning: Darkfic.
Feedback: Yes, please!
I've never had an easy time getting to sleep. One of my favorite methods of battling insomnia was wandering the castle corridors, and when I was finally lucky enough to be Head Boy, I could even do it without having to worry about being rebuked by a professor. I would often claim they were nighttime rounds.
That was what happened the night I encountered Professor Granger, who was my favorite teacher. I talked to her often, both about class and about other things. I have to admit I may have fancied her.
I was surprised to see her, since she wasn't often out at night, but I said hello and we chatted briefly. She seemed a bit on edge, as if she were going somewhere or waiting for something and was embarrassed to be seen. I didn't want to pry, so I just wished her a good night and headed back to my dormitory, where I tried to go to sleep despite a feeling of disquiet that was settling into my heart.
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Professor Granger straightened her robes, waited for the student to disappear around the corner, and then continued on her way to Snape's rooms. Her soft knock was answered almost immediately, as if he'd known she would eventually be coming. Her eyes were filled with hunger, but his showed ache as well.
"Severus," she whispered immediately, one hand reaching in for his neck as her face pulled close to his. "Why haven't you come again since that night?" She giggled softly at the look on his face. "Yes, really. I've wanted you."
He reached up to try to remove the hand from his jaw. "You shouldn't be here, and it shouldn't have happened. You haveno idea what could happen, child, no idea what I could be. Or what I formerly was." His teeth were exposed in a feral snarl as he visibly strained against his own urges, trying to pull away from her as if he were afraid he might defile her.
Hermione let out a small snort. "I know, Severus. I already told you I don't care. The past is the past, and honestly-" She pulled in again to kiss him, and this time their mouths reached each other. He tried for a moment to hold himself back, but eventually gave in to the violent kiss, his mouth moving down to her neck in the flickering torchlight. She had already pushed herself up against his body, her hips angling in anticipation, when he again pulled himself off her, breathing hard and looking infuriated with himself.
"You're still an insufferable know-it-all, Hermione. You don't understand. Don't tempt me. I don't deserve this, can't handle-"
"And you still don't understand that I know more than enough!" she snapped. "You deserve it. I know, and Idon't care." She leaned in to kiss him again, and this time he could not hold himself back. When she wrapped her body around him, he let her, holding her thighs up to his hips.
"Hermione.... mione... mine."
He pulled her into his rooms, and the door slammed shut behind them.
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He was like some addictive drug. She could hardly stop herself from thinking about him anymore. It was a struggle even trying to keep up with preparing her lessons or to spend meals doing anything other than staring down the head table at him. Like falling into the harpies' whirlpool.... with every moment she was being pulled further and further in, yet she found it felt so good that she didn't mind. Constantly craving even a moment to be with him.
And so naturally, every night, she returned to him.
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I would watch the head table at mealtimes. Professor Granger hadn't looked well lately. More often than not her eyes were glazed rather than shining with her usual intellect. I was worried , but I never got to speak to her about it. Once or twice, I'd stayed after class to try, but she would seem distracted, sort of pushing me away. I'd figured it was something she didn't want to talk about, so after that I left her alone. I still watched during mealtimes, though. She kept her eyes on her plate and didn't seem to be speaking to any of the other teachers either.
Professor Snape, if it were possible, looked even worse. He was known for being temperamental, but now he was like a prowling predator. He spent classes circling the room, eager to pounce on one of us, usually me, for boiling water wrong or unstoppering bottles too loudly. And now, as I looked up to his place at the teachers' table, he ate voraciously, looking furious and wild. Like Professor Granger, he wasn't speaking to anyone. But while she had become a ghost, he was turning into an animal.
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I woke up one Sunday morning to the sound of a yell outside my window. Scrambling out of bed, I looked out to the grounds to see what was going on, but all I could make out was a small crowd of people gathering just outside the side gates of the castle. With an ominous feeling again settling into me, I dressed quickly and took the steps two at a time down to the grounds.
"Stand aside, she needs fresh air!" Madam Pomfrey was shouting shrilly but futilely to the crowd of onlookers. I pushed through them but gasped and stopped as soon as I saw what was happening. Professor Granger was lying there, completely unresponsive, but with her eyes still open and staring blankly upwards. I asked someone next to me what was going on, but they didn't know either. Stepping forward, I ignored Pomfrey's screeches and tried to feel Professor Granger's hand. She was alive, but she didn't seem to notice me.
Dumbledore was there too, looking like his worst fear had been realized. He watched my ministrations in silence. I was going to ask him what was going on, but then Professor Granger started muttering to herself, so I strained my ears to listen.
"Need... Sev... er... us..."
"Professor Granger?" I tried, squeezing her hand again.
"Alas, she no longer seems to answer to that name," Dumbledore replied at length, so softly and sadly that he startled me. I noticed Madam Pomfrey was starting to get the crowd to disperse. "But she will still answer to 'Snape's,' and-"
"WHAT?!" I screamed before remembering I ought to stop myself. "What did he do to her, did that bastard steal her mind, did -"
Dumbledore frowned gravely. "I should have seen it coming. His kind, when they form an attachment to a person, it consumes the beloved. Eventually-"
"That BASTARD!" I screamed again, grabbing my wand and starting to run back towards the castle.
"No," Dumbledore had started to gasp, reaching for me, but at one hundred and fifty years of age he could not keep up with my running. "If you attack him-"
I did not stop to listen. I was too busy trying to get to the dungeons. I blasted Snape's door open with a hex.
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Snape survived, so I got off after only a few years in Azkaban, enough that insanity had not fully set in. Sometimes I still go to visit Professor Granger, my former teacher and my friend, in St. Mungo's.
But the curse, Snape's curse, is now mine. The curse on the beloved.