Disclaimer: Everything recognizable from the Harry Potter universe belongs to J K Rowling, no infringement is intended to any copyright holder.

A/N: This is the sequel to my first Snape/Hermione story – "And Then She Was Gone". Although it isn't necessary to read the prequel, reading it does help to set up this story. This is only the first chapter… there's more to come. Enjoy.

Quandary of the Heart

Chapter One: Regret

The whole thing reeked of humiliation.

She was running back to Hogwarts with her tail between her legs like some frightened pup.

There was a time when she was considered to be a credit to her House. Someone who was looked up to. Admired. Embodying all that was brave and loyal.

She scoffed at herself. She was a Gryffindor so why wasn't she behaving like one?

Hermione Granger stopped short of the stone steps leading up to the great oak doors that harbored the famous school of witchcraft and wizardry. Her thin body froze in panic and in fear as her heart beat frantically inside her chest. The young witch had always fired a desire to return to teach at Hogwarts, but not like this.

She was not a charity case.

And yet, that's exactly how she felt.

It was a well-known fact that Albus Dumbledore had a reputation for helping waifs. Hermione's stomach lurched in realization. Oh god. Was that how he truly viewed her? Had she really become a know-it-all has-been in need of a second chance? Pulling herself together, she sniffed angrily. There was still one piece of her dignity that remained intact and she would be damned if she'd allow herself to let go of it now.

Raising her chin and holding her head up high, Hermione turned sharply on her heel and marched back over the stone path toward the gates of the school as her blue denim muggle jacket was caught up in the wind from her stride. She would apparate back to London, owl Dumbledore and politely but firmly refuse the position of Charms teacher.

She faltered after a few steps, her resolve dwindling.

Charms.

It really was a dream job. Her dream job. Perhaps, just perhaps she should swallow her pride…

Hermione took a deep breath and slowly exhaled surveying the impeccably groomed school grounds. The grass was rich velvet green, the leaves on the trees and bushes rustled in the breeze while the dark clouds overhead threatened to burst forth, plummeting rain upon her. She scowled slightly thinking it would bloody well serve her right.

Hermione was the first to admit she had botched the last four years of her life. It seemed that the moment she graduated from Hogwarts things began to go down hill rather quickly.

Though if she were to dissect the situation properly, examine the whole thing clinically and get to the basic root of the problem, things began to take a downward spiral long before that. Every day of her entire seventh year to be precise and catapulting the night of her graduation. The night that she forsook all that was Gryffindor. The night that she betrayed the biggest and most sacred secret of her life. A secret that should have remained buried deep within the depths of her heart. A secret that should have remained unspoken and undisclosed forever.

Safe. Guarded. Private.

Yet for some unfathomable reason, for a reason beyond any logical explanation, and far beyond her very own comprehension - it didn't.

She told him.

Him.

Snape.

Professor Snape.

Professor Severus Snape.

Potions Master.

The Head of Slytherin.

The brooding, dark, nasty bastard of a wizard who made her life and the lives of all her friends a living hell for seven years. The sallow-face, mean spirited git who mercilessly insulted her, who never once complimented her or commended her efforts. Who utterly ignored her in class. Who … who on the night of her graduation as his black fathomless eyes melted into hers, whispered in his soft silky voice. "Well done, Hermione."

And that was all it took.

He had said her name.

He said her name and the way it rolled deliciously off his tongue made her insides turn to jelly. In those three words he recognized all of her achievements and efforts. He complimented her. He had noticed her. Hermione threw her arms around him, wrapping herself tight and willingly losing herself in his midnight robes. She marveled at the feeling of the warmth of the nearness of his body. Then to her surprise and delight - he hugged her back.

And oh, did his arms feel good around her and she knew that was where she was meant to be. She wanted to stay entangled with him forever.

Never in her life had she felt so wonderful, content, and accepted. While lost in that moment of ultimate weakness. While caught up in a moment of rare and ultimate stupidity. She told him that she… loved him.

Ugh.

What a mistake that was.

And since then, Hermione Granger hadn't been able to forgive herself for behaving like a complete and absolute idiot.

In all honesty, she really couldn't blame all her problems on Severus Snape. The burden of responsibility lay solely with her and the fact that she couldn't keep her big mouth shut. It was her fault and hers alone, that she had felt the need to confess her feelings to him at the most inappropriate and awkward of moments. Him, of all people. The heartless, cruel Professor. Had she no intelligence? Had she lost all common sense? How could she have allowed herself to fall in love with the dreaded Potions Master? The one who was least likely to return her affections and the one who was most likely to throw it all back in her face.

For her foolishness, she deserved no less.

Sneering. Mocking. Making her feel worse than she already did.

She braced herself for the onslaught of a merciless attack.

But it didn't come.

What he did was far worse. Yet, admittedly far better.

He remained silent. Responding neither positively or negatively. Permitting her to say her three pointless little words before releasing her into four years of regret.

By his reaction – or rather lack of one, Hermione was certain that he must have been disgusted by the prospect of being loved by her. That there was no way he could ever or would ever return her feelings. There was no other reason for him to remain silent. It was logical to conclude that he waved the whole thing off as a pathetic schoolgirl crush. No different, she ventured, from what she had on Gilderoy Lockhart several years before. And perhaps, that's all it was.

She often thought that she should have married Harry.

Or Ron.

Or… anyone.

But then again, no one asked her. She laughed. Who in their right mind would have wanted to be tied down to an insufferable know-it-all? A bookworm. She of all people knew of her own limitations, her own shortcomings. She was not an easy person to like, let alone love. She grimaced as she rubbed her forehead as a vicious headache threatened to takeover. Experience had proved that love was something she was destined to be without. Hermione ran her fingers through her long, chestnut hair. The boys – men – chased her, there was no doubt that they found her attractive, however the instant she opened her mouth and said something intelligent they lost interest.

Except for him.

Under a veil of dark sarcasm he encouraged her quest for knowledge. Covertly providing her with books to read that sated her hunger yet at the same time increased her desire to learn more. He suffered her long enough to discuss the books, voice her opinion, before pushing her away.

Yet he still ridiculed her. Still sneered. Still scowled. Still despised her.

He had a reputation to uphold.

Or at least, that's what she told herself.

Hermione treasured the times she spent alone in his company. Relishing in the rare moments when he inadvertently let his guard down and she was able to catch a glimpse of the real Severus Snape. Sparks of electricity rushed through her body whenever his hand grazed lightly against hers. Her breath would catch in her chest during those times when she briefly caught passion and fire in black eyes that were normally masked with cold indifference.

He made her mind feel alive. Understood. It was the only time she had ever felt truly connected to another human being. And while both Ron and Harry firmly believed that the Professor was not human, she had other thoughts on the matter. Even if, she smiled ruefully, he didn't always behave like one.

In retrospect, Hermione felt that she shouldn't have returned to the Muggle world so quickly after graduation. At the time she postulated that she was doing it to please her parents, to be able to spend time with them, get reacquainted with each other after years of growing apart. But in truth, she was running from the embarrassment that she had brought down upon herself. That, and a severely broken heart.

However cliché it may be, time heals all wounds.

Almost.

Hermione clenched her jaw and threw her face skyward letting the gentle streaks of sunlight that snaked their way through the black clouds caress her skin. Maybe it wouldn't rain after all.

One can but hope.

Hermione saw him once, a year after graduation, when alongside Harry and Ron she did her part in the fight against Voldemort. Forty-one hours of hell later the Dark Lord had been defeated and amidst the glorious celebrations Hermione Granger discovered that her treacherous heart still battled in a futile war against unrequited love.

Damn him.

After what she had been through Hermione had no courage left to face the Potions Master. No strength to feign bravery. No desire to remain only to be rewarded with rejection. With barely a whisper of good-bye to Ron and Harry, and without even a single parting glance to him she left. Willingly returning to a world that was no longer her own, co-existing in a culture that she no longer belonged to. This time the reason for her escape was clear.

She needed to forget about Severus Snape. She needed to get on with her life.

Easier said than done.

Hermione pleasantly discovered that she excelled at drowning her sorrows in books and learning. Although - she licked her lips - a good bottle of wine on a Saturday night didn't go amiss either. Full-time college classes were a blessing, as were boundless correspondent courses. They were everything she needed. In books she found comfort. She understood books. They were incapable of hurting her.

She was lost. She knew so much, yet so little.

Hermione sighed heavily and wiped a small tear that had broken free from her cinnamon eyes. It didn't matter anymore, she thought determinably. She gritted her teeth. It was about time that she left the bloody past where it belonged.

So one thousand, five hundred and seven wretched days after she graduated she was back at Hogwarts, the place where it all began.

Her life in shambles. Alone. Lonely. Miserable.

"Oh hell." Hermione muttered to herself. "What have I got to lose?"

She turned back towards the school this time determined to make it past the great oak doors and inside to face an uncertain future.