Prologue
Although she would never admit it, Hermione Granger had always been somewhat prideful of her hair. Was it a nuisance at times? Yes. Did it give others yet another reason to make fun of her? Usually. But the fact is, she had never met anyone else who had hair quite as bushy as hers. It was unique to her and, while she may hate it at times, she still felt this peculiar sense of pride where it was concerned simply because it was something that made her unique from everyone else.
In fact, there were only two times in her life that she could ever remember seeing someone who had hair even close to being as ridiculously bushy as hers. The first was when she was in her first year at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. She had been hurrying to pack up her things so she could make it back to the common room from the library before curfew (it was already perilously close and drawing closer every minute) when she heard a commotion near the entrance to the restricted section.
The whole incident had been burned into her memory. She had debated for a few moments over whether she should go check it out (in case it was someone in need of help) or continue on toward the common room in self-preservation. Eventually, her conscience had won out and she had turned to go investigate. When she arrived, the first thing she had noticed was Madam Pince, standing with a shocked look on her face, a hand rising to cover her gaping mouth, and Professor Snape, kneeling on the floor close by. The second thing she had noticed was the person Professor Snape was kneeling beside, a woman with hair nearly as bushy and unkempt as her own. She had not been able to see the woman's face because it had been turned away from her. She had, however, seen the book lying at Professor Snape's knee, just a short distance from the woman's outstretched arm and hadn't been able to stop the startled gasp that escaped her lips. She had had that book in her hands just minutes before.
One of the many reasons the other students had found to make fun of her was her need to always follow the rules. So, in a fit of defiance she had decided to enter the restricted section, the one place in the vast library that she had longed to enter since coming to the school. It didn't matter that the other students would never know she had done it; it only mattered that she did. She had crossed the line and walked a few feet in, eyes scanning the books that lined the shelves with passionate curiosity, excitement rushing through her veins. Her heart had raced as she finally reached out a hand to touch one, expecting Madam Pince to arrive at any moment and berate her. But that didn't happen, she had managed to pull the book off the shelf and study the cover for a moment, only to realize that the title was written in a different language that she didn't recognize. Disappointment had coursed through her as she opened the book and flipped through it to realize that the whole thing was written in that language. The first book from the restricted section that she had ever had the chance to study and she couldn't even tell what it was about.
The disappointment had quickly been pushed to the back of her mind, though, when she had heard a small noise nearby. She hadn't known what it was and she hadn't cared. She had just gotten out of there as quickly and quietly as possible and gone to pack her things to return to the common room.
So how was it that that very same book had come to be in the possession of the mysterious woman lying on the floor only a couple of minutes after she had had it? And why was the woman now unconscious? She hadn't had time to contemplate the situation any further as Professor Snape had turned to glower at her and proceeded to send her running off to her common room. However the whole situation had replayed itself over and over in her head throughout the next several days.
The second time she had seen someone with hair almost as bushy as her own had been a few years later, in her fourth year. She had been walking back to her common room after her prefect rounds for the evening when she saw one of the strangest moments she had ever witnessed concerning Professor Snape. He had been coming toward her down the hall when a call of "Severus!" had had his eyes widening as he had turned on his heel and walked down the hallway he had just passed. She had reached the hallway just in time to see him pulling a woman into a dark alcove. The woman's laughter rang clearly through the halls, covering the hushed whispers of the professor. All Hermione had managed to see of the woman was her back and a head full of out-of-control bushy hair.
The sight had startled her for many reasons. The bushy hair rivaling her own was one, obviously. But aside from that it had made her wonder, did the professor have a girlfriend or even a wife? He had never mentioned anything, but then why would he? And who would have ever thought of him as material for such a relationship? Had she ever even actually thought of Professor Snape in such a way or as anything other than her surly potions professor?
It had saddened her a bit to realize that this was the first time she had realized that there might be more to him than just a professor or potential villain. It had been the first time she had realized that Professor Snape was more than just Professor, but that he was Severus, as well.
A/N: Hello, all! It's been a long time since I've written fanfiction...or anything really, but I've had the urge to write and was struck with an idea so I decided to go ahead and see where it takes me! I'm a little rusty, but I hope despite that that you enjoy this story. More to come soon! Let me know what you think so far!