Supposed Crime
A Snape/Hermione romance that hopefully won't be too stereotypical. We'll get into the good stuff a few chapters in, and this story is one where when the good stuff comes, it doesn't stop. There will be an R rating later on, along with a few controversial things, so hopefully you're all prepared.
Aimée
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In the scheme of things, one single life does not mean what we all assume it does mean. It is how that particular life touches those around it, how the life changes the world around it that matters. To the Universe, there is no good and evil—there just Is. One of the notions planted into the human mind from the very first moment he or she comes into an understanding of the world is that there is indeed a general good and evil is something I have proved wrong countless times over the years I have had the misfortune of experiencing.
I have lived a lie for so long that to me, it is no longer a lie but the single solitary truth in my life. It is a cursed life, but at the same time it is mine. For years, my life was made up solely of the lie, making it the truth within my own personal universe. Three and a half decades after my birth, however, I discovered that there is in fact a greater truth and life out there—and for nearly a year, it was mine for the taking.
She came to me shortly after her seventeenth birthday. Even after I gained her trust, she always insisted it was never her intention for things to turn out the way they did. I was never able to place any faith in her words, but I allowed her to believe I did. It was simply another lie added onto the heap of others that defined who I believed myself to be, and I felt no remorse for my simplistic betrayal of her trust.
I won't bore you with the details of how she and I came to become a we, as they are of no importance in the scheme of things. It is how we are—how we were in the beginning and how we were in the end. It was the deepest of secrets hidden within the walls of Hogwarts, and not a soul knew besides the two of us. Not only was she half my age, but she was a student as well—one who was destined for great things I could have never provided her. It was that stigma which we bore, but we had each other to both lean on and support in a never-ending battle between what we knew—or thought—to be evil, yet we both agreed something as wonderful as us could never be considered anything but heaven-worthy.
She was not the first I had loved, but she was the last. One of the most common misconceptions of those who now know about the two of us is that I was desperately lonely, but that wasn't true. I had the students who surrounded me each day, the teachers I knew I could depend on even if I would never in a thousand eons admit their importance, and a man who believed in me even when in my youth no one else would—not even myself. I secluded myself from the others not because of disdain, but because of my acute need to make sure I would not hurt anyone else. The lie I lived, the role I played for what could have easily been my entire life was something that I needed to protect from others. The game I was playing was far too complex to add in new pieces and rules, but when that game was finally finished with the abolition of the Death Eaters—those loyal to Voldemort, anyway—and the destruction of their Master, I was free to discard the old rules and make up ones I was willing to play by, for the first time in my life.
Needless to say, she was the first rule I added; I did not seduce her, nor did she seduce me—rather it was a joint effort, one we were and hopefully still are willing to admit to, albeit in the privacy of our aloneness while we were together, something that I'm sure will never happen again.
For her seventh and final year at Hogwarts, she and I spent every possible moment together. She was what some would consider a sort of apprentice to me, although we never degraded her role with a title. It was how we got around the scorn of others—they simply did not know. No one knew, not even her best friends or Albus Dumbledore, a man I had sworn to never keep a secret from. The rules had changed, however, and that one was one of the first to go.
Even to this day I cannot admit how much I loved her to anyone but her. The lies I had grown so accustomed to living had prevented me from ever comfortably telling the truth, which was something I have never been proud of. Over the years, I have been able to twist and turn the truth around until it does in fact fit the lie—or perhaps it was the other way around?—and in turn, I was able to spare myself some of the grief I would have otherwise experienced.
It was on the night of the winter solstice when she first came to me fully prepared to overstep the boundaries we had set early on in our relationship. At first I objected, but it was futile; she was aware of how much I had craved her from the moment we had first kissed, and she used that weakness against me. The next morning, for the first time in eighteen years, I awoke with a woman—for that was what she was now—asleep next to me, her pale skin flushed and a smile placed upon her lips as she slept. She was my salvation, the angel I was sure was made just for that moment of perfection. I didn't know if she was made for me—I would have never asked for anything as precious as her, nor would I be as vain to assume I was the thing she lived for—but that night, I knew she was mine just as I was hers.
Unfortunately, I was not aware of the sword of destruction that would soon penetrate the perfection we had emerged ourselves into. It was a swift move in the game I had played my entire life, one I was not able to foresee.
It was the move which defined my life.
A Snape/Hermione romance that hopefully won't be too stereotypical. We'll get into the good stuff a few chapters in, and this story is one where when the good stuff comes, it doesn't stop. There will be an R rating later on, along with a few controversial things, so hopefully you're all prepared.
Aimée
---
In the scheme of things, one single life does not mean what we all assume it does mean. It is how that particular life touches those around it, how the life changes the world around it that matters. To the Universe, there is no good and evil—there just Is. One of the notions planted into the human mind from the very first moment he or she comes into an understanding of the world is that there is indeed a general good and evil is something I have proved wrong countless times over the years I have had the misfortune of experiencing.
I have lived a lie for so long that to me, it is no longer a lie but the single solitary truth in my life. It is a cursed life, but at the same time it is mine. For years, my life was made up solely of the lie, making it the truth within my own personal universe. Three and a half decades after my birth, however, I discovered that there is in fact a greater truth and life out there—and for nearly a year, it was mine for the taking.
She came to me shortly after her seventeenth birthday. Even after I gained her trust, she always insisted it was never her intention for things to turn out the way they did. I was never able to place any faith in her words, but I allowed her to believe I did. It was simply another lie added onto the heap of others that defined who I believed myself to be, and I felt no remorse for my simplistic betrayal of her trust.
I won't bore you with the details of how she and I came to become a we, as they are of no importance in the scheme of things. It is how we are—how we were in the beginning and how we were in the end. It was the deepest of secrets hidden within the walls of Hogwarts, and not a soul knew besides the two of us. Not only was she half my age, but she was a student as well—one who was destined for great things I could have never provided her. It was that stigma which we bore, but we had each other to both lean on and support in a never-ending battle between what we knew—or thought—to be evil, yet we both agreed something as wonderful as us could never be considered anything but heaven-worthy.
She was not the first I had loved, but she was the last. One of the most common misconceptions of those who now know about the two of us is that I was desperately lonely, but that wasn't true. I had the students who surrounded me each day, the teachers I knew I could depend on even if I would never in a thousand eons admit their importance, and a man who believed in me even when in my youth no one else would—not even myself. I secluded myself from the others not because of disdain, but because of my acute need to make sure I would not hurt anyone else. The lie I lived, the role I played for what could have easily been my entire life was something that I needed to protect from others. The game I was playing was far too complex to add in new pieces and rules, but when that game was finally finished with the abolition of the Death Eaters—those loyal to Voldemort, anyway—and the destruction of their Master, I was free to discard the old rules and make up ones I was willing to play by, for the first time in my life.
Needless to say, she was the first rule I added; I did not seduce her, nor did she seduce me—rather it was a joint effort, one we were and hopefully still are willing to admit to, albeit in the privacy of our aloneness while we were together, something that I'm sure will never happen again.
For her seventh and final year at Hogwarts, she and I spent every possible moment together. She was what some would consider a sort of apprentice to me, although we never degraded her role with a title. It was how we got around the scorn of others—they simply did not know. No one knew, not even her best friends or Albus Dumbledore, a man I had sworn to never keep a secret from. The rules had changed, however, and that one was one of the first to go.
Even to this day I cannot admit how much I loved her to anyone but her. The lies I had grown so accustomed to living had prevented me from ever comfortably telling the truth, which was something I have never been proud of. Over the years, I have been able to twist and turn the truth around until it does in fact fit the lie—or perhaps it was the other way around?—and in turn, I was able to spare myself some of the grief I would have otherwise experienced.
It was on the night of the winter solstice when she first came to me fully prepared to overstep the boundaries we had set early on in our relationship. At first I objected, but it was futile; she was aware of how much I had craved her from the moment we had first kissed, and she used that weakness against me. The next morning, for the first time in eighteen years, I awoke with a woman—for that was what she was now—asleep next to me, her pale skin flushed and a smile placed upon her lips as she slept. She was my salvation, the angel I was sure was made just for that moment of perfection. I didn't know if she was made for me—I would have never asked for anything as precious as her, nor would I be as vain to assume I was the thing she lived for—but that night, I knew she was mine just as I was hers.
Unfortunately, I was not aware of the sword of destruction that would soon penetrate the perfection we had emerged ourselves into. It was a swift move in the game I had played my entire life, one I was not able to foresee.
It was the move which defined my life.