Author's Note: hi, so this is a short, one-shot SS/HG fic. If you don't like, don't read. And this is also counting as the disclaimer. I don't own Harry Potter or any of the related stuff. I also don't own the song "I hate everything about you" by Three Days Grace. Which is a kick-ass song by the way. yeah, anyway, so if you like it, review, if not, review, just tell me what you think!
Every time we lie awake
after every hit we take
every feeling that I get
but I haven't missed you yet
As she walked into the Potions classroom, Hermione Granger stifled a sigh. She took her seat and listened to the chatter of her classmates settling in. Suddenly, the door flew open and Professor Snape strode in, robes billowing. As he instructed the class to begin their work, she tried not to stare at him, while at the same time letting him know she was paying attention. She thought to herself, as her hand rose to answer his question, about how not much had changed over the years. She still knew the answer to most every question he asked, and he still ignored her, as he was doing now. Frustrated, Hermione put her hand down, but she sent a furious glare towards the snarky teacher.
He instructed her to stay after class to arrange a detention. He had seen the look she shot him, and her 'disrespect towards a teacher' caused her to lose 10 points from Gryffindor as well. As he watched her finish gathering her books and supplies, he thought to himself about how so much had changed over the years. She was no longer the bushy haired know it all that she had been as a first year. Now, in her seventh, she was a bushy haired know it all with class. As the last of the other students left and she approached his desk, he stood.
He stood up and came around the edge of the desk towards her. She saw him mutter a quick spell to lock and ward the door. Then all rational thought left as he pulled her to him roughly. His mouth crushed hers with brutal force and passion, and she was left gasping. She quickly caught her breath and pulled herself closer still. She kissed him back, trying to convey with her mouth and lips and body how much she desired him. She could feel his erection pressing against her stomach, and she melted into him.
every roommate kept awake
by every sigh and scream we make
all the feelings that I get
but I still don't miss you yet
He abruptly pushed her away from him, and turned away so he wouldn't see the hurt in her eyes. They lay on his bed together, and he felt rather than saw her get off the bed to start and gather her clothes. He didn't hear her crying, which took a little of the pressure off. He knew that she would get dressed and straightened up quickly, and she would leave his rooms, having never said a word. This was how it always went. He would tell her to stay after to arrange for a detention, and they would end up back in his rooms having sex. They had never spoken about it, in fact they were both curiously silent throughout every encounter. But when she emerged from the bathroom a few moments later, something happened.
only when I stop to think about it
When she stepped out of the bathroom, she looked over to the bed to see him still lying there, on his side. She held in a sigh at this man, who had somehow wormed his way into her life and who steadfastly refused to leave. He never said a kind word to her, in fact he was the same utter bastard that he always had been. When they had sex, it was intense and hard. Pulling herself out of her thoughts, she decided to try something new. As she went to open the door, she whispered back to the unmoving figure one question. "Why?"
She hadn't even waited around for an answer. She had simply whispered one word and walked out. When the door closed, he sat upright and mechanically went about making himself presentable. But his mind was whirring a thousand miles a minute. He knew that she hated him, that she despised his treatment of the majority of the student body. He also knew that she loved him, that she tried, quite often, to get herself in trouble in his class so that he would ask her to stay after. But he also knew that it could never be anything more than what it was.
She knew it was futile, and she understood that nothing could ever come out of it. But she still felt the pain, and she still had a hole in her heart. It had all started quite by accident. She had talked back to him for blaming her for Neville's mistake. When she approached his desk, she was angry and upset. They had started arguing, and before she knew it, she ended up in his arms and in his bed. That first time, she had been totally unprepared for the situation, and when it was over she left more to get control of herself than out of any agreement or talk with him. He had never said a word to her about it, and then a week later she found herself in the same situation. And so now, almost a year later, she was getting rid of stress the only way she knew how. She began to write.
I hate everything about you
why do I love you
I hate everything about you
why do I love you
every time we lie awake
after every hit we take
every feeling that I get
but I haven't missed you yet
only when I stop to think about it
He read her letter, and with every word his heart sunk a little. He had known somehow, that this would happen. He knew when it started how it would end. So he read the letter one more time, and then he sat it on his desk and walked out. He swept past the students and other professors in the hall, not paying the slightest bit of attention to those who tried to speak with him. He didn't care anymore, and as he walked through the door, he hesitated briefly. But he didn't look over his shoulder, and he didn't turn back.
I hate everything about you
why do I love you
I hate everything about you
why do I love you
only when I stop to think about you I know
only when you stop to think about me do you know
When various witches and wizards throughout the UK opened their Daily Prophet the next day, they were in for a shock. The two pictures on the front page were such an unlikely pair, that they alone were cause for second looks. Then they read the headline, and life slowed to a standstill. One of the readers was one Albus Dumbledore. He sat next to the lake, the entire three page spread open before him. His shoulders shook as the Headmaster, one of the greatest wizards in the world, began to cry. Several teardrops fell onto the open paper, blurring the bold words.
Hogwarts Professor and Student Found Dead Thursday
why do I love you
you hate everything about me
why do you love me
I hate you hate I hate you love me
I hate everything about you
why do I love you