This fic is dedicated to Alan Rickman, an incredible actor who brought to life the character of Severus Snape for many Harry Potter fans. Rest in peace, sir.
May 1999
Hermione Granger sat in the front isle; one of the few students who didn't feel too awkward sitting beside the row of Professors. The seats behind her had more students in them, mostly those who had been involved in the battle a month ago. Behind them were various dignitaries who were here out of social obligation, not out of respect or mourning for the hero they were laying to rest today. After the row of Ministry officials and pure-blood family representatives the organization ended. Hermione recognized a few well known Potions masters, the owners of several books stores and apothecaries. There were some students, current and former, most of which wore Slytherin colors in honor of their dead Head of House – former Headmaster Severus Snape.
Severus would have been appalled at the massive show his funeral had turned into, though Hermione thought that it was well put together. Large vases of lilies were placed symmetrically around the area roped off for the event. The grass was green, and the silver folding chairs made the setting decidedly Slytherin, though Hermione doubted that had been done on purpose. The lilies, she knew, had been Harry's doing. The silver doe etched into the lid of the marble casket had also been her best friend's doing, though Hermione thought that Severus probably wouldn't have minded those things.
He'd have preferred his parting from the wizarding world be represented by the things he'd done right; loving Lily Evans-Potter, and protecting her son at the cost of his own life. The alternate would have been bilberry for the flowers and a dark mark etched on the casket. No, however foreboding as the man had been in life, he would not have wanted to be marked for eternity by the flower of treachery and a brand of slavery. Severus had had a hard life. He deserved to rest in peace.
November, 1997
Minerva McGonagall was indulging in her guilty pleasure; she was watching her star pupil, Hermione Granger, as she went over her homework one last time during breakfast, before turning them in of the course of this morning's classes.
"Oh for the love of Merlin," Severus hissed at her from her left. "Just tell her."
"Tell who, what?" Minerva asked, looking at her colleague with a frown.
"Miss Granger, and that you're in love with her," he said quietly.
Ordinarily, Minerva would have dismissed that utterly ridiculous notion as an attempt to get a rose out of her, as Severus often took pleasure in doing. However, he was not sneering at her, nor was there that glint in his eye he always had while waiting for her to snap at him rudely. He looked almost sad as they made eye contact. "I am not," she protested weakly.
As it happened, she was not technically lying to Severus on that count. As far as she'd gotten, regarding her understanding of her feelings toward Miss Hermione Granger, was to the point of admitting she was a bit sweet on the girl. She wouldn't even go as far as to call it a crush. She most certainly was not prepared to accept that maybe, just maybe, she was falling in love with a woman decades her junior. No. Bloody. Way.
"Liar," Severus accused anyway.
"You're wrong," she said crisply. "She is decades my junior, Severus. Even if I were, which I not, I would certainly not be acting on any feelings."
The dark haired professor rolled his eyes. "If you are not lying, then you are blind. In either case, you're also a fool. It's obvious to anyone with half a brain and at least one eye that your… affections… are not one sided."
Minerva bristled. "I would thank you to keep your speculations, nonsense that they are, to yourself, Professor Snape."
"As you wish," he nodded, returning to his breakfast. "For now."
They'd just returned from Christmas break, and while Harry and Ron were bemoaning the idea of returning to classes, Hermione was glad to be back at Hogwarts. She'd missed it here, or rather, missed someone who she only got to see when she was here. How Hermione had managed to develop a crush on her Transfiguration Professor was probably one of the few things she didn't know a thing about, but it was a fact. The more time passed, the harder it was to keep her thoughts about Minerva innocent, and the easier it was becoming to justify the attraction. Neither of these things boded well.
When Hermione arrived at dinner, and Minerva was not there, she couldn't help but worry for the woman who was becoming a daily source of emotional upheaval. When the meal ended and Professor Snape started heading toward her seat, Hermione's worried doubled – Snape must have seen her glancing at Minerva's usual seat. It wasn't like she'd be the first person to have a crush on a teacher, and given that Hermione was friends with Harry, Snape was always on the lookout for new things to taunt her about. Of all the things he could hang over her head, Hermione found herself praying that he wouldn't use this. He could call her an insufferable know it all as much as he liked, but she was not going to allow him to dress her down for loving Minerva.
As she'd expected him to, he stopped where she was sitting, offering a pointed glare at Ron and Harry, who both scampered off without so much as a good luck with the git, 'Mione, and left her to deal with their hated Professor. She looked up at him fiercely, keenly aware that if he tried to make a go at her about her feelings, she was probably going to end up in detention for punching a Professor.
"Miss Granger," he said crisply. "Walk with me."
Hermione thought his request – who was she kidding, his demand – odd, but did as she was told. Perhaps he hadn't realized what she felt. Perhaps he hadn't noticed where she was looking at all. Perhaps he just wanted to talk about her last Defense homework. He'd never done that before, without her prompting, but there was a first for everything, right?
Despite the oddity of it, Hermione did as she'd been told, quickly gathering her things and following him out of the Great Hall, and leading across the Entry hall toward the corridor that led to the Staff Room, Filch's office, and a handful of mostly unused classrooms. Students didn't go down this corridor unless they were dragged by a teacher, and with good reason. That was, unless said student was Fred or George, of course, who liked to try and sneak into Filch's office now and then.
Snape wasn't leading toward the caretaker's office, nor the Staff Room, however. He was walking with only one possible destination in mind; privacy. Hermione didn't have long to wonder if she should be running away screaming or not, because Snape finally spoke, and said the last thing she would have ever imagined coming out of his lips.
"Minerva is fine," he started. "Albus had her doing a lot of work for the Order over break, and she's still got some last minute grading that needed done before classes tomorrow morning, so she opted to have dinner in her office."
Hermione tried to act oblivious. "Why are you telling me that?"
Snape rolled his eyes. "I thought that perhaps you'd like to go help her."
The idea made Hermione want to smile, but if Snape didn't know how she felt, she wasn't about to give him a clue now. "Why would I want to do that?"
He stared at her for a moment, not even blinking. "Miss Granger…Hermione, if you really don't know, then you're both idiots and without question deserve each other. I could call it a detention and order you to report to her office, but I doubt you'd want her to view it as such."
"Alright, alright, you've made your point," Hermione muttered, defeated. "Thank you… Severus."
"Don't mention it," he replied with a blank expression. "I mean it. Don't mention it. To anyone. I'd never live it down if anyone found out I was playing matchmaker for a student and a professor. Personally or professionally."
Hermione smiled. "You're a good man. See you in class, Professor Snape."
With that, they both walked back to the Entry Hall, parting ways there. Snape turned to the dungeons, of course, and Hermione began the climb toward Minerva's office on the third floor, a new bounce in her step. 'You're both idiots,' he had said. That meant he at least suspected Minerva also had feelings for her. Hermione wasn't daft – she knew the older woman would never actually get involved with her while she was still a student under Minerva's care, but building a foundation of friendship now could be the key to something more after she'd graduated.
Minerva smiled when Hermione walked into her office. She was wearing muggle clothing, holding a medium weight jacket in her hand that was suited for the mid February weather. It was a Hogsmeade weekend – Valentines and all – and she imagined her student was just returning from there. "Good afternoon," she greeted. "What can I do for you today, Hermione?"
"Nothing, Professor. I just wanted to come by and see how you were doing," the younger woman replied.
Minerva clucked. "What have I told you…?" she asked in a teasing tone.
"Sorry," Hermione replied blushing. "Minerva."
After Christmas break, Hermione had begun dropping by her office quite frequently. At first, it was simply to help with grading. Hermione was interested in becoming a teacher, and had requested some hands on experience with the non-classroom aspect. In the weeks and months since, there had been less grading and more just talking, to the point of two weeks prior, Minerva had told her to just call her by her given name.
Seeing Hermione more often out of class than in had done nothing to dissuade her growing feelings for the brunette. Quite the opposite, in fact. Damn Severus Snape for being right – she was falling in love with Hermione. Not that it mattered – there was no way he'd been right about Hermione also having feelings of the romantic sort. Hermione was seeking a mentor, perhaps a friend. Nothing more. As much as unrequited love hurt, Minerva was at peace with the way things were. Having Hermione close, if only in a platonic way, was better than living in a reality in which Hermione didn't care for her at all, and after leaving Hogwarts post-graduation, they never spoke again.
Suddenly, the door to her office opened again. "Minerva, I really must protest!"
"And what are you protesting this time, Severus?" Minerva asked with a sigh.
"Was it Harry or Ron?" Hermione asked, smirking at her other professor. Minerva was a bit surprised to hear Hermione talk to Severus at all, let alone in such a casual tone, but he didn't seem to mind. That in itself surprised her even more.
"Potter," he spat, though it lacked the usual venom. "Good afternoon, Hermione."
"Likewise, Severus," Hermione replied.
Minerva shelved the additional shock at hearing the two address each other informally, and shelved the roar of jealousy she felt when it occurred to her a possible reason why they might be doing so. "What did Mr. Potter do this time?" she asked, the firm tone trying to mask the shake in her voice.
"Nearly killed one of my students, that's what!" Severus shouted. "If I thought it would do any good, I'd demand you expel him at once, but it won't, so I shant bother. What I protest is you countering the fifty point deduction to Gryffindor house for this infraction!"
Minerva noticed Hermione standing to leave. "Where are you going?" she couldn't stop herself from asking.
"To deal with Harry, of course," Hermione replied. "I'm afraid he's probably more traumatized than Malfoy at the moment…"
"How did you know it was Draco?" Severus inquired, eyes narrowing.
Hermione looked at him incredulously. "Who else would Harry have attacked with enough magical energy to actually do serious harm?"
Severus shrugged. "Fair point. Though Hermione, I suspect he has an old Potions text book that does not belong to him. Please see to it that the book is removed from his possession."
The younger witch stared blankly at him for a few seconds, as Minerva watched the exchange with irritation. It was probably good that Hermione was leaving just now, because the older woman wasn't sure she'd be able to hold the emotions inside once the professional obligation called her fellow professor left. "You're the Half-Blood Prince!" Hermione suddenly shouted, accusing.
He nodded. "I'd like my book back, though Potter cannot know you turned it over to me under any circumstances. Do you understand?"
"Of course," she replied, nodding. "Good day then, Severus, Minerva."
"I'm leaving too," the Potions master said by way of goodbye.
At that moment, Minerva was glad to be rid of the both of them.
Hermione looked on in agony at the expressions on both Harry and Minerva's faces. Both of them were falling to pieces at the sight of Albus Dumbledore's body laying at the foot of the astronomy tower, faces contorted with the pain of loss, and the anger of betrayal. Hermione felt the sting of the loss, but unlike everyone else, she'd known it was coming, and knew that the so-called betrayal was nothing of the sort.
After she and Severus' heart to heart in that abandoned corridor, she and the ever serious man had struck up something of a friendship. Then, about a month after that conversation, he'd drug her up to the Headmaster's office and she'd been told some pretty disturbing facts about what the future would hold. It had answered a lot of she, Harry, and Ron's questions, but she'd not been allowed to tell them, and she wouldn't be able to tell them till either the war ended, or Severus had the change to tell Harry himself. She was to be the failsafe – the one person who knew what had to be done, what Harry would have to do, in the end. It broke her heart to think of it.
They hadn't known for sure it would be today, but Severus had said he suspected it would be earlier this evening after Harry and Albus had gone looking for the Horcrux. Draco had needed the Headmaster away from Hogwarts to sneak the Death Eaters in, and the school year was nearly over. As far as Draco had known, this could have been his last opportunity to do what Voldemort had ordered him to do.
Not that he'd actually done it – that task had fallen to Severus. Worse than being labeled as the Headmaster's killer, Hermione feared that Severus would ultimately pay for the crime he'd not really committed with his life, and despite his deplorable attitude toward her prior to this past Christmas, Hermione found that she cared for the man as much as she'd ever cared for Harry or Ron, though still less than she cared for Minerva. The saddest part of everything was Hermione was not fool enough to think that Albus would be the last to die, or that those Hermione cared most for would all survive the looming war.
May 1999
It was over, at last. Minerva wished she could say she was glad to see Albus' executioner dead and buried, but after what Harry had told her… she found herself forgetting the feeling of loathing simply mourning another friend. The former would have been easier to bear, but it wasn't the case. To complicate things further, Minerva noticed Hermione Granger, the only one still here after the end of Severus' funeral, was openly weeping over the casket of the former deceased man, fingers tracing the lines of the doe that had been etched on the marble surface.
It was obvious that Hermione had loved Severus, and he must have lover her deeply as well. He'd never have given a student permission to address him by name otherwise, like he had given her a year and a half ago. "I'm sorry for your loss, Miss Granger," she whispered, stepping forward.
She couldn't say her name, not here, not now. Unrequited love was bad enough, but facing the one you loved while they cried over the body of the one they loved… that was too much. For the moment, and probably the foreseeable future, Minerva needed the formal boundaries.
"Thanks," Hermione muttered. "He was… so much more than he let anyone see."
"You saw it."
"Yeah," the younger woman laughed. "Imagine my surprise. Even more so when I realized how easy it was to love him."
It was a dagger through the heart to hear those words from Hermione's lips. "I need to get back to the castle," she choked out. "Good day, Miss Granger."
"You too," Hermione replied halfheartedly, still very much focused on Severus' casket.
Minerva didn't look back.
A part of Hermione wanted to follow Minerva back to the castle, but she wasn't done saying goodbye to her friend, and he'd had so few people who'd really come here today to do so. Besides, despite Severus' hints that Minerva might feel something for her like she felt for Minerva, it was obvious by the way the older woman had slammed those walls of professionalism up that he'd been wrong. Severus had been right about a good many things, but not that.
Besides, even if Minerva had been sending out the right sorts of signals just then, Hermione still wasn't sure she'd have pursued it. Today, everything was so raw. So many people had died in the last year, and Hermione felt a bit guilty even contemplating the idea of moving forward with her life, in whatever way. Love may be, at least according to Albus, the most powerful kind of magic, but magic didn't solve everything. Love didn't reverse the effects of death. Love wouldn't bring Severus back. And loving Minerva wouldn't make Minerva love her.
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