A/N It's not the best story in the world, but I got the plot stuck in my head a few days ago and started writing it... somehow, it just worked itself out. If you enjoy listening to music when you read (like I do), I wrote this to Addicted by Kelly Clarkson.

It annoys me when people do this, but please be nice, I haven't posted a story on here in more than a year.

Thanks!

This was supposed to be the happiest day of her life, but because of him it would undoubtedly be one of the worst.

She stared at herself in the mirror, taking in the shallow look of her eyes and the tears that were leaking and running down the hollows of her cheeks. Her mouth was slightly parted, her lips dry and pale. Her nose was running and her face was an unflattering shade of red. She was wearing the graduation robe that she was issued; however, the red and gold blurred until it looked like a misconstrued hot dog – with mustard and ketchup. And this just made everything worse.

Her heart ached pitifully, her stomach twisting from hopelessness. She couldn't help but ask herself what could I have done differently? But she knew, somewhere in her failing logic, that it wasn't her fault. He was the one that had done this. Could she have done more to stop him? Yes. Could she have talked about it with him? In fact she should have. But all reasoning had left her at this moment and from yesterday onwards, and she couldn't help but believe that he had used her for his own personal gain, and she felt suddenly sick. The thought of his greedy hands touching her made her stomach churn.

She backed away from the mirror, cowering, her arms wrapped around her middle as if they were holding everything in. She didn't want to leave her room, but knew that she shouldn't allow one selfish man to ruin her graduation – even though it was impossible not to let him.

It took her a few minutes, but she cleared her mind from the thought of him and managed to stop crying. She wiped away her tears and rubbed her eyes because they itched. She knew her hair was a frizzy mess; she'd been planning on working on it all morning to get it to lay flat, but that had been useless. Therefore, she was now forced to shove it up into a bun. After that, she used whatever makeup was already on her vanity, but that was only lip gloss and blush. The latter she needed none of, since she already looked like a tomato.

Again, she looked at herself in the mirror. She looked wretched, even for her, but she couldn't bring herself to care enough to reaapply her cosmetics, nor straighten her hair. Despite this, she still mustered the courage to leave her dormitory, meeting with the other Gryffindors in the common room. There weren't many, sadly, either because they had disappeared during the war or had refused to complete their seventh year (in which case they were given diplomas, but incompletes for their N.E.W.T.s).

Harry and Ron had been accepted into the auror program whether they finished at Hogwarts or not, so they had unfortunately deemed their seventh year uneccesary. She, herself, was offered a position, but refused to give up on her education with only one year to go. Plus, she'd never been one for either aurors or their business. Despite her disinclination to join the program, they left her behind and didn't look back, and that had hurt indescribably. Any feelings that she had had for Ron escaped her at that precise moment in time.

After they left, they rarely ever contacted her and when they did it was short notes that were often complaints about the duties of being an auror. If she responded, they never wrote back, and so she found herself without anybody to talk to. She had never been so lonely in her life. That was also, most likely, why she had been so accepting of her professor once he had admitted that he had often fantasized about her. At the time, it was everything she could have wished for. He was an intelligent person to talk to, someone who would listen and even offer input, and was fairly attractive – when he wasn't wearing his thick robes. How could she have said no, as vulnerable as she was? During the time that they were together, it was absolute Heaven. And if she were honest with herself, she often thought about being with him forever, as school-girl-crush as it sounded. It didn't occur to her that he was only using her, and that he had likely done the same with many of his other students in the past. Again though, if she were being honest with herself, that sounded incredibly unlikely – but it was the only explanation. She had been fooled, and due to the loneliness Harry and Ron had caused, she clung to the man like a life line. And admittedly, it seemed like he had warmed to her just as readily, calling her ridiculous nicknames just to tease her, appeasing her wanton need to cuddle, and rubbing her feet whilst he graded homework assignments.

"Hermione?" Seamus Finnigan asked, laying a hand on her shoulder to get her attention. She jumped at the sound of her name and chastised herself for getting lost in her thoughts again. "You don't look too well. How are you feeling?"

She heaved a shuddering sigh, raised her eyes to look into his, and admitted honestly, "I don't feel too well, honestly."

"Are you sick? Or -"

"I'm just a little tired, I had a rough night." she said abruptly. Seamus nodded in understanding, stepping away.

"It'll be okay." he said, smiling. He then turned and left to find Thomas who was waiting by the door for him. Now and then, however, he would shift his eyes to watch her indiscreetly. She didn't see him do so, but she could feel his eyes on her, and it made her uncomfortable.

A moment later, the door to the common room flung open, saving her from a confrontation with Seamus, and their Head of House, Professor McGonagall entered. She looked far too excited in Hermione's opinion, but Hermione was not one to judge. All she felt like doing was crawling under a rock to hide. McGonagall gestured for the five of them, which was all that was left of the Seventh year Gryffindors, to come and stand nearer to her. She smiled at them all, then began a speech that she had obviously well prepared.

"All of you are the best and brightest of your year, and I tell you that with the upmost sincerity. Only the most courageous of you could return to Hogwarts and face the repercussions of these past years. You were the ones that were willing to face the evils that still lurked the halls, to remain in a place in which many friends and peers layed down their lives, and to still remain in a mindset positive enough to learn – and learn many things! For all of you, the marks you got this year were your best. I cannot imagine why this was, because for all of you it was a different reason, I'm sure. I'm proud that despite the hardships you faced you still had enough bravery to face every day life, even though you have already faced more than most adults do in their lifetime. For many, all they do and all they can ever hope to do is dwell on the past, but you concentrated on your futures. You will make it past the things that occurred here, and you will excel in whatever you decide to do. You will also remain the true Gryffindors that you are, and you will always handle things with pride and courage. You will always be lions, true-hearted and strong-willed. But now it is time to get on with things. I do believe it is also time to say goodbye to this place you have called home for so long."

Hermione watched her Head of House for a second, observing her reaction because she looked as if she was about to cry. In all of her years at Hogwarts, Hermione had never seen the woman open up enough to do so. Professor Mcgonagall frowned slightly, as she seemed to realize this, also, then blinked quickly for a second and cleared her throat, "I will be right behind you."

They left the common room after that, saying goodbye to the portrait which guarded it. The walk down to the Entrance Hall was far too short. With every step Hermione took it seemed her heart beat that much faster. Her breathing hitched as she reached the top of the stairs and saw the three other houses lined up to enter the Great Hall, where undoubtedly all of their family (including her's) was waiting to see their children graduate. To her delight and disappointment, the other Heads of Houses were already inside.

Professor Mcgonagall left her house next to the Ravenclaws. Once she was gone, claiming she needed to tell Dumbledore that everything was prepared, the entire room went quiet. There was barely any movement other than breathing as everyone contemplated what was going to occur after this. Hermione had had enough contemplation and couldn't bear to do it anymore – in fear that it would only cause another breakdown – and so she attempted a look to her left, where the Slytherins were calmly waiting. However, there were only two. She didn't even know their names, but she guessed that was a good thing. She had never gone out of her way to get to know any Slytherins, so the only ones she remembered were the ones that went out of their way to get to know her – in a very unpleasant way, in most cases. Despite the fact that the Slytherins were the smallest group, they seemed oddly confident.

By the time that she pried her eyes away from them, McGonagall was standing by the doors, beckoning the Ravenclaws to enter the Great Hall. After they made it through, the Gryffindors, the Hufflepuffs, and then the Slytherins would enter. In this instance, she wished that the Gryffindors would be last. She wanted to put off seeing him, even if it was inevitable that she would encounter him and futile to try not to. Therefore, from her spot, which was second in line, she stepped forward into the Great Hall, with all of its candles lit, all of the families which took up the entire Hall, and then the Professors at the front, wearing pins that represented the subject they taught. None of them smiled, but watched in a mixture of emotions as their most prized students stepped forward.

She didn't lift her head to look at them. Instead, she stared at the ground, even though she could feel multiple eyes on her – one pair of them, she had no doubt, was his. Out of the corner of her eye, she saw a sudden shock of orange hair and looked up, surprised. She first met eyes with her parents, who were watching her with grins and glassy eyes, and then she saw Harry and Ron, sitting next to each other. They waved excitedly, boyish smiles on their faces. However, at the stricken look Hermione gave them, their smiles faded marginally.

She looked away, shaking her head, chastising herself for suddenly wanting to cry. At this point she had reached the front of the Hall, where she was supposed to branch off to the left and stand in front of the first row of empty seats reserved for graduates. There were two rows on either side. Ravenclaw, which was first, took the first row on the right, and then the Gryffindors, which came after them, took the first row on the left. The Hufflepuffs, which were after the Gryffindors, sat behind the Ravenclaws. And then the Slytherins had the second row on the left. They weren't allowed to sit down yet, Dumbledore would beckon them to sit once every house had reached their seats and there had been an adequate amount of time for applause.

One the Headmaster had stepped forward, opening his arms as if he was welcoming them all, the graduates sat down simultaneously, as one student body. Then Dumbledore began his speech, which was nearly identical to Professor McGonagall's. Once Hermione decided she didn't want to listen, she tuned out, closing her eyes. She sighed, but could not shake the feeling that someone was watching her. Despite her better judgement, she opened her eyes, looking up at the Headmaster, feeling like a first year again. Behind him, Mcgonagall stood to his right.. Next to her, five teachers were aligned forming a half moon shape, somewhat encompassing the Headmaster. Hermione didn't register which teachers they were. Her mind was too overwhelmed because she knew who stood to Dumbledore's left, and her heart suddenly reached out to him. Her eyes turned away from Dumbledore, slowly, hesitantly landing on the man dressed in his nicest black robes, his body turned towards the Headmaster, but his head turned towards her; his eyes were cast downwards, staring at her feet.

"I will now call the graduates up to the stage to receive their diplomas and to be congratulated by their Professors. However, I will not be doing it by House, rather, alphabetically. Therefore, it will be an ending equivalent to your beginning, when you took the first step to becoming a member of whatever House you belong to. You will be recognized as an individual, and a member of society." Dumbledore said, pausing as he let it sink in. Once he was convinced everyone understood, he began, "We will begin with... Abbot, Hannah."

It went like this until they reached Justin Finch – Fletchley, and Hermione knew that she was going to be called next. Her feet tingled, her arms were numb and her entire body felt like jelly. She was becoming increasingly worried about dropping her diploma or tripping over her feet. But she mostly worried about how she would be able to look into his eyes and shake his hand. She would crumble if he refused to do either the former or the latter. How would she handle that? What would everyone think? As Justin left the platform where the Head Table usually sat, Dumbledore smiled, cleared his throat and proudly read, "Granger, Hermione."

Her heart stopped and she hesitated, but then stood, her head high and her hands in fists beneath her sleeves. She took a deep breath. As she began to walk to the stage, Dumbledore continued with listing off the achievements that she had earned over the eight years she was a student at Hogwarts. It was honorable, she realized, and the applause was almost deafening, but she couldn't look up from where she stared at the floor.

Dumbledore met her at the top of the stairs with her diploma. He said something, but she couldn't hear it over the noise. Then unexpectedly, he wrapped his arms around her in a comforting hug, squeezing once before he let her go. He then gestured to Hagrid, who was at the beginning of the line. He grinned at her, his cheeks bright red from excitement. When she stepped up to him he began to cry, then hugged her tightly and told her how much he appreciated the afternoons that she would come over for tea.

After Hagrid, there was a professor that she had never had before, but that shook her hand and congratulated her. After that was Professor Binns who smiled at her and commended her on her achievements. She gave him her sincere gratitude. Next to Professor Binns was Professor Hollier who was the current potions professor, and he shook her hand and gave her a side hug. But they didn't say anything to each other. Next was Mcgonagall, and she murmured congratulations through her tears, then pulled her into a motherly hug, telling Hermione that she was the brightest witch of her age. Her Head of House reluctantly let her go, gave her a watery smile and nudged her to move on, even though she didn't think she could.

Despite this, Hermione turned her body, gave in to the excruciating fear and began to cry. But courageously she walked forward, twice the distance, for she had to cross the space that Dumbledore had stood when he spoke to the assembly. As her blood began to run cold, she bowed her head. It seemed to take hours to reach him.

She finally raised her head, and then her eyes slowly. Unlike the other professors, he didn't face her as she walked up to him. His body was stiff, facing forward, and his posture remained wholly formal. She looked into his face and was relieved that he neither sneered nor scowled, rather seemed to act disinterested. But be that as it may, all she could see in her mind's eye was every time he had smiled at her, his dimples when he laughed, and how his lips would thin and his eyes would narrow when he was trying not to show his amusement. It became her favorite past time trying to get that look from him in class. The other students always thought it was his glare, oh, but how wrong they were! Unfortunately, instead of being able to dwell on the lightheartedness of their relationship, she suddenly began to think of the sound of his voice when he had said to her that all she'd been was a way to keep him entertained, and that she wasn't worth the effort after she left Hogwarts. She would never forget the face he made when he said it.

Her chest heaved as she tried to retain a sob, but her face crumpled as she finally stood before him. At first, he didn't look down and didn't give away that he knew she was there. Finally, though, he lowered his head to stare at her. It was at that moment that everything broke and instead of weeping and begging for his forgiveness – as she thought she would – she became infuriated. And instead of allowing him to see her pain, she stood tall, her stare unwavering as she looked up at him, just as he had to look down. The tears that began to dry on her cheeks were the only thing that gave her away. And suddenly his straight, pale lips turned downwards into a frown. His hand reached up, shakily, as he wiped the only remaining tear away.

She searched his face for anything that might give him away, but there was nothing. The only emotion that he displayed was disdain, and she figured it was her "childishness" again, that disgruntled him, and she pulled away sharply. His hand fell to his side and his eyebrows furrowed. His nose wrinkled in embarassment and after a second of hesitation, he sneered.

She stepped back a foot, then stuck out her hand as if she expected him to shake it. "Thank you, Professor, for putting up with me." It would've sounded as if she was making a joke to anyone else, but they both knew that she was referring to what he had said the night before.

He looked down at her hand, then bit the inside of his cheek in frustration. He stood up straight suddenly, looking over her shoulder dispassionately. She sighed in consternation and disappointment, because she would end up being right, and this wouldn't end in a civil fashion as she had hoped. She turned her shoulders as if she was going to move on to the next Professor, who smiled at her encouragingly, trying to make up for Professor Snape being an arse. But just as she was about to pick up her feet and move away, tears once again glistening in her eyes, the Professor put a hand on her shoulder to stop her.

She stiffened in surprise and confusion, then took a step back to face him once more. This time when she looked upwards into his face, it was apparent that he was fighting some sort of internal battle. His eyes were stormy, his breathing quick and short and close to hyperventilation, his nose once again wrinkled, and his cheeks a light pink. He only ever did this when he was about to do something that he was uncomfortable with, and she was curious as to what that was now. She didn't notice that the Great Hall was completely silent – and had been since the Professor had touched her face.

Slowly, the hand that had been on her shoulder moved to her cheek once more. His hand felt cool against her flushed face and slowly, as if tasting the words, he opened his mouth to speak. It wasn't the steely, unemotional voice he used in class, but that soft, caring voice he used when they were alone together. "I'm sorry, so very sorry, my queen," he said softly, using her favorite nickname, "I was scared. However, that is not an excuse for the pain that I put you through. I will understand if you walk away now and never look back, but you need to know that I love you and I always will. You're the only one, I promise, there has never been anyone else. I hate myself for ruining everything we had. I'm so sorry." It was rushed, and he was embarassed, but it was as heartfelt as she'd ever heard from him, and she knew he meant every word.

Her cheeks turned red and she knew that everyone could hear what they were saying. But that didn't stop him, and she was honestly touched that he – who always claimed he didn't have an ounce of bravery, despite all evidence to the contrary – would proclaim his love to her where everyone could hear.

The longer it took her to reply, the more haunted his eyes became, and the more hatred they held. He looked over her head to everyone's shocked and incredulous faces, and he was about to turn and walk away, humiliated beyond words. But Hermione yelped slightly, finding her voice, and shouted, "No!" He turned to look at her, confused by that answer, and she grabbed his hand. She stepped up to him and looked up into his face. However, he was glaring out at the people watching, interested at the spectacle, so she only saw the stubble underneath of his chin. She tugged on his robe and he looked down. The instant he did, she extended her neck and captured his lips.

"I love you, too. I always have. I forgive you." she said in relief, once she released him. He smiled at her, but lowered his head so only she could see. She would forever remember that look on his face, relief and love – embarassment also, but that was equivalent to bravery in her mind.

The ceremony after that was awkward, but it proceeded without a hitch. However, both Severus and herself kept getting stares from people who were mortally surprised by what had happened. Who ever thought that the bat of the dungeons would fall in love with one of his students, a Gryffindor no less? The one person, however, that seemed the least put out was the Headmaster, who had somewhat of a wistful look about him when he saw what occurred.

Hermione should have expected that he'd known all along. But it never crossed her mind that they'd been found out.

Once the last person had stepped off the stage, diploma in hand, and Dumbledore whisked through his oration, which was infinitely shorter than the first, the professors were allowed to leave or mingle with the graduates and their families. As it turned out, most of them decided to stay, if only for the purpose of staring at their co-worker and star pupil as they interacted together.

The moment that Severus stepped off of the platform, Hermione was next to him. He once again smiled in amusement, and readily accepted the embrace she offered. However, he made the exchange as awkward as possible so the people watching wouldn't think this was a regular occurrence. She had her arms wrapped around his shoulders and he had his hands on her waist. For a second, he allowed himself the liberty of soaking in her aroma. It was like a drug to him. But during the next second, when he looked up over her head, he noticed her parents marching towards them like a boggart escaping its closet.

He kissed the inside of her neck discreetly, then muttered, "Your parents, my dear."

She turned around quickly, blushing, ashamed, but not of him, just that her parents had seen everything. "Don't leave," she demanded, looking up at him out of the corners of her eyes. At the same time, she plastered a smile onto her face so she could greet her parents accordingly.

"Hermione, love!" her father said enthusiastically, embracing her tightly. He pulled back, his hands still resting on her shoulders so he could scrutinize her up and down. "We couldn't be prouder. You were top of your class and had the highest... um... what was... the test..." he trailed off.

"N.E.W.T.s, dad," Hermione supplied.

"Yes, that!"

Hermione looked away from her father, who had conveniently ignored the elephant in the room, metaphorically speaking of course. "Mother?" Hermione asked hesitantly.

The woman mustered a smile and she opened her arms for an embrace, but Hermione supplied only the smallest of hugs. They both looked alright with that, expecting no more nor less of a display of affection. "Who is this?" she finally asked, referring to Severus. He stood behind Hermione, analyzing her parents with his trademark glare.

Hermione reached back and grabbed his hand, squeezing to indicate that he should answer. In his monotone voice, reserved for misbehaving students, he declared his name as Severus Snape, Hogwarts's DADA instructor.

Hermione's parents examined him closely, but he gave nothing away. "And how old are you, Professor?" her father finally asked.

"I am 36."

"That is much too old!" her mother exclaimed brashly.

"Wizards live to nearly 150 years old, Mrs. Granger," he paused here, the title sounding odd on his tongue. He would definitely be convincing Hermione to take his last name, instead of keeping her own. "Headmaster Dumbleodore is 176, if you must know. I hardly think the difference in our ages is intolerable."

"We are her parents," her mother stated unnecessarily.

"You're daughter is 18," he responded scathingly. "Is that not old enough for a woman to make her own decisions in your muggle world?"

Hermione shushed him and he snapped his mouth shut, ignoring the insults on the tip of his tongue. These muggles would not make her leave and they needed to realize that it would be futile to try. Hermione said nearly the same thing, only with much more tact than he had.

"I am not a muggle, first off," she told her parents. "I am a witch, and in the wizarding world 17 is old enough to be considered an adult. I was completely legal when we started dating-"

Her mother cut her off again by saying, "I hardly doubt you've only been dating since your 7th year! You always used to rant on and on about his intelligence and insightfulness as a teacher – even after he would insult you!"

Severus looked down at Hermione and raised an eyebrow questioningly, but she ignored him, hoping he would drop it. "I promise everything I say is the truth. I would not lie to you... However, that is not the point; my point is, you cannot stop me from being with him."

Needless to say, the confrontation was mostly meaningless after that. It did conclude with a reluctant resignation from her parents, who decided it would be pointless to argue with their daughter. They did not, however, have to like that she was dating a man twice her age and they made that clear enough.

The rest of the after graduation party was unusually tense and stressful – although it did help having the Professor's hand in her's the entirety of the night. It was also a bonus that he was excellent at steering away anyone who might want to induce another confrontation, such as Harry and Ron, who ended up sulking in the corner for a few hours before leaving.

Looking back on before, she felt somewhat silly for having been so distraught. But she had been hopeless, trying to imagine life without him – even though they had only been together for a school year. But his actions, even if they had resulted in tears before the ceremony, made everything ten times better. She would never appreciate another apology more than that one.

Her graduation was definitely one of the best nights of her life, as she'd always imagined it would be.

A/N Sorry the ending was a bit rushed. I wanted to finish it before I went to sleep. If I get a chance I'll revise it, but knowing my lazy ass, I most likely won't. I hope you enjoyed it anyway.

If you could, please leave a review. I would appreciate it immensely.