It was just too much when he threw into my face these words: in the age of twenty I'm aging quickly, surrounded by books, losing not only my youth, but also energy and feminine charm. Ron has always been talking too much, without restraint, hurting others – in the end he had to say sorry to a mass of people, without end. For these words he has never apologised. Harry tried to reason with him, as well as Ginny and Luna, but these visits changed nothing. He had his opinion while I had mine and I didn't want to see him. We never met again.
He ended up with Lavender as a wife. His suffering was a never ending source of my satisfaction: in a period of few years he aged another ten. Luna told me once that their home is his personal hell. She always whines about her unfulfilled needs, he could actually throw up all her false sweetness and caprices. He works in a small office at the ministry where he doesn't have his own desk. Harry has never understood why I'm glad about Ron's failure. You are the one who defends the defenceless, he reasoned; you take pity on every house elf and even a gnome.
But none house elf or gnom have ever digged me into such a deep hole. Never before have I did anything that spontaneous and reckless. When I'm just too tired and I start regretting my decisions, it is Ron who I blame. It lets me take the responsibility of my back. I always find myself guilty of everything – but now I need a break to breath. Do not blame me, Harry and ask Ginny to do the same.
I' m not even sure I should be talking about guilt. I don't know if it could be better or if it really is bad. I'm too deep in now and it's impossible for me to get an outside look at the situation,
damn.
While at work, I always know.
It's the same in everyday life.
It's my job and it's my character. Knowing makes me feel safe, warm,
damn.
You know me, Harry – I'm such a control freak. But I can never have power over Severus. I never will break into his mind, get a ride through his secrets. I never will factorize him to basic ingredients and write a construction plan.
I breaks me somehow, because he… He makes me seem unreal…?
I am the knowledge, Harry.
I am the control.
I am predictable, I am transparent. I am an open construction with all the wires and buttons on the surface. I believe you understand this comparison, you' re not totally absorbed by the wizarding world.
He makes me insane, but I'm not insanity.
I have to resign to stay with him.
I have to change.
He takes the steering wheel from my hands, he takes away the map and the ground I'm standing on. One wave of his wand and I'm upside down, with a perspective change forced on me.
It bloody hurts.
He disproves me.
It all happened once already, you now, when I get my Hogwart's letter. My dentists parents took effort to buy books from the list and some more. And suddenly, with all these tomes on my shelves next to physics, mathematics and chemistry books, I had to decide.
I was like arranging a whole house anew. The muggle knowledge went to one corner of my mind to make place for The New One. And finally I succeeded. It took effort, don't ever doubt it, but I really changed my way of thinking.
It hurt. Like hell.
Several years later, after I've forced my way through Hogwart's library, I calmed down. I had control – again. What an intoxicating feeling! The world under my feet. All its mechanisms under my thumb, working like they are supposed to. Perfectly predictable, perfectly safe.
In those moments I could understand Voldemort. His wish for power was a desire to control. He was afraid to die – his control enabled him to catch his fear by its tail, raise him up and laugh it in the face. Make no mistake: I could never ever join him.
I don't understand suffering.
I don't understand making other people suffer.
One cannot control pain – but it is possible to control protections.
That's where SPEW came from. To authorize new traditions. Norms. Standards.
Sweet dreams.
But Severus destroyed all of it, kicked my polished perfection out and took its place. I fell in love with him to spite Ron, I just had to took control over my own image in my own mind once again. Over me being a woman.
And Severus was always around, so enticing and so male. I made a list of possible character traits making a men attractive. I checked – it was all there. With the maleness, I also checked. All there, again. A perfect mean to my ends.
He was close to me, working in the laboratory. He acted accordingly to my plan and let me seduce him. He was only a man, after all, and alone for far too long. We decided to stay together, having so many mutual interests and successes in the field of potions. It just had to work.
But it didn't work. Because he's comp-li-ca-ted.
Complicated!
Harry, can you imagine worst nightmare?
He makes a gesture and I answer him with certainty that I know what his reaction will be – and he surprises me.
Every day.
Sometimes I think I'm going crazy. He still excites me – and on the top of the list there is "risk" and "madness". But I never before wanted any madness. Severus is a chaos. An archer of chaos, like everything unpredictable and non-banal started from him. He never brings me flowers. Or perfume. Jewellery. Even silly chocolates, Harry.
He gives me poetry. With a cheeky dedication, saying it will do me good. Because poetry is uncontrollable.
He gives me shoes: stilettoes. With a cheeky challenge – learn to use them. Because they are sexy. And he said it without malice, can you imagine?
How could I expect it? He is malice.
But he only smiled warmly, while usually he pushes me away. Too much bad past, too big a distance, too many barriers. He doesn't trusts me. But then – he just smiled at me and I couldn't take joy from this smile, for it frightened me.
You still can't understand why Ron's unhappiness makes me glad. You see, with these words once spoken, words I took as a challenge, he broke my control. Because of him I let Severus overwhelm me and now he is too much for me to ever stop it or let him go. He constantly allure me, pulls me in. I have lists, charts and graphs to prove it. I keep them under the bed, as in the drawers there isn't any more room.
I can't hate Severus. And I don't want to feel responsible for my own choice, as I even don't know if I regret it, if I could regret it. If I could just be happy.
Hermione Granger is control.
Hermione Snape is madness.
Never ever give Ron my regards.
I'm so afraid.