How curious.
How did it even start, exactly?
Oh, right…
The War had ended, he surprisingly survived (they all did, thank Merlin) and was free from all charges, then she'd returned to her final school year and HE was still there, teaching. That's sort of how it went.
First parties, for which he did not care much to attend, and happiness. Then the title of 'heroes' on their shoulders, rolling out of others' tongues in a bittersweet small taste of fame. Things settled down then, Harry started his Auror training with Ron, and she was there again, at Hogwarts. She carried on with her studies and apparently he carried on as the Potions' Master.
He was still bitter, of course, impatient towards 'dunderhead' students and even a bit nasty sometimes, but there was something different now, something that she couldn't quite figure out.
First, empathy.
The sentiment of feeling his pain, knowing what he had been through and the reasons behind it. Knowing they had been on the same side of a War, battling in different sides of the field but still, against the same greater evil.
Then it was something more.
She noticed his voice was somewhat silkier from all the snarkiness she heard and, oh my, did he have a wonderful voice.
Even his features changed. She wasn't quite sure of why his shoulder-length hair seemed softer and his hooked nose gained some beauty. Pure blood and half blood wizards usually had a different life spawn than muggle born wizards, living more years and aging in a different rate, yet she had never noticed how he seemed to be forever stuck around his thirties; not too young, neither too old. Just the perfect age of old wisdom and young open-mind. Even his ideas, which he seemed to sneak between lectures on Potions that other students obviously missed, seemed interesting to her. His mind was brilliant, even if she had always recognized that, like she always admired him. There was something different. Or maybe not different; it was just growing.
Weird dreams came along. One night a weird dream of hugging her professor out of compassion and the next things she would never imagine dreaming about him. And then she'd find herself drifting away in his presence and trying to catch a glimpse of his image only to embarrassedly look away when his eyes locked with hers.
She didn't want it though.
She never asked for it.
It just sort of happened.
And it was so completely weird, so out of place and so alien that she couldn't help but feel so damn curious about it. What would he say? What would he feel? Would he be so disgusted? Or maybe, just maybe…could there be the tiniest of chance? A flicker of hope? And would she really want it? What, what, what. What was wrong with her anyway?!
Hermione sighed as she fell back on her bed. Ginny must've asked her what was wrong at least five times that day. Neville probably twenty. But how could she ever tell them (poor Neville would've fainted) that it was Professor Snape who was in her mind?
Let's see, it was wrong, inappropriate, probably illegal, even if she was more than of age now…well maybe not illegal, at least not Azkaban worthy…he could lose his job though, maybe after graduating she…
No, of course not.
He hated her, remember?
It would never happen.
And then as she was enjoying one of her final days at Hogwarts, just after finishing her exams, when she passed by him in the corridors. Glancing up to his face she wondered how his lips would feel like on hers. She urged to grab him and never let him go. To worship him for the beautiful person he was inside, so much more than he would ever give himself credit for being.
To love him, and be loved in return by him…love and be loved, the greatest gift of all…
In a second she summoned all her Gryffindor courage.
"Professor?" she called out before he'd leave.
Brave…be brave…like a Gryffindor lioness…
Brave. Yeah, right. As if.
But Ginny had had the guts to kiss Harry, Neville to tell Luna he loved her, and now they were with the ones they loved. Even Ron had had the courage to kiss her, even if a few months after they had a mutual break-up, since their relationship wasn't exactly what they had expected.
Darn, even that idiot Pansy had had the courage to ask Draco out, even if she was rejected by him in a rather embarrassing way, since he was after Astoria Greengrass.
Yes, she did it, and failed. And that reminded her; she could do it, because if she failed too (or rather when she failed, because her courage was merely slipping away so fast) these were the last days. It would be bad but she would never have to see him ever again. If she didn't try it would be worse, never knowing…
So in that deserted corridor, when he turned to her, the so curious for that feeling Hermione grabbed his robes pulling him down into a kiss.
Her heart stopped beating when she pulled away before he could react only to find him with his mouth open staring incredulously at her. But then the shock was gone yet he merely turned away and left without a word.
She stood there alone more shocked than him.
At least he hadn't pushed her away.
But, ouch, it hurt. Badly.
Tears dared to stream down her face.
The curiosity killed the cat.
It was in the next day her graduation day. She had been there with her fellow classmates and friends receiving a diploma that proved her adulthood. As she moved away from the crowd after the ceremony to pack her things and rest she saw her cat running in front of her. What was wrong with him?
"CROOKSHANKS!" she followed the ginger feline that was running like crazy only to end up in a desert part of the school.
When he stopped she was finally able to pick him up.
"What has gotten into you?" she murmured to him.
But just then she felt hands on her shoulders spinning her around. Startled she let her cat fall but instead of running, he remained calm and next to her, since he knew full well who had been behind her. Surprisingly, she was facing her ex-Potions´ Master.
"After our 'incident', Miss Granger, I used legilimens on you…" he explained to the surprised woman in an almost whisper "…and I believe that now, since you're no longer a student, it's not inappropriate…"
Next thing she knew they were kissing again, in a more pleasant bliss than in any of her dreams. She made it.
She did it.
The curiosity killed the cat but the feeling of fulfillment brought it back to life.