A/N: Ok, I feel depressed and dark right now, so thus the chapter will be such. I know it's supposed to have humor, but remember: have I ever failed you before? Never! --Furry black doggie howls at the moon--

Chapter 13: So Many Things

Severus had sunk into a dim abyss of true depression that he had never before ever experienced. His eyes lost their luster, their brightness since their relationship had blossomed since summer. He still managed to keep up his personal hygiene, keeping his hair soft and clean, not greasy, another change Hermione had brought into his world. He had appreciated life more than tenfold once Hermione showed him a side of the world he had not traveled before, love. Compassion, trust, companionship, honesty, laughter, joy. So many things had shattered his previous world; he was not just an Ex-Death Eater, hated by all, hating all back. He was a real human being, happy to live and live well, all because of Hermione. She had reached out and pulled him out from his self-worthless, unmoving and unemotional world he had cocooned himself in, shutting out everything.

They could not be together, the world had told them so, crowning them in thorns and twisting their hearts into unrecognizable broken, shattered pieces. Seeing Harry and Ron that night had convinced him of that. He had actually cried that night, not sobbing like a baby, but simply tears that simply coursed down his cheeks, wetting the pages of his book he had been struggling to read.

Severus was not meant to live a happy life. He was always at the service of others, helping others but neglecting his own soul. He was always ridiculed and hated. Always. Was there ever a moment when he could trust those around him? No. Was there ever a moment when no one felt the desire to kill him? No.

Everyone thought he was incapable of being a normal person, no one allowed him to be normal. He wondered what it was like to be normal. There was no hope, he would leave and no one would miss him…he doubted even Hermione would miss him now if he died…

Hermione had refused to listen to Harry and Ron. Mostly it was Harry; Ron did not speak to her, not even to Harry, except to ask questions about homework or such things. Hermione had refused to listen, but now, she had actually let the words penetrate into her mind, letting them play over and over again in her mind, visions of what might be, and what was. It was hopeless. Everyday now, it seemed that the bond between them had been cut, they were unable to speak to each other, even just the sight of each other threatened to make her start sobbing with grief and pain. A dull film had covered Hermione's eyes, she too was shutting out the world, and the one thing that always was bright was now cold and dead. Her lips were always a straight line of unfeeling emotion. She would talk, but her tone would be inept and her voice would be strained. She was constantly sick, not eating much, feeling miserable. At night she would crawl into bed and curl up into a ball and soak her nightgown with her tears. Dark circles began to form under her eyes; she barely slept. She had become a senseless body going through the motions; she wondered if what she was experiencing was any different from a life after the Dementor's Kiss.

Nothing could help her now. She was always called a bossy know-it-all, used only for talents, and then thrown out after she was no use to anybody. Her life had become a steady decline of grief. Hermione had never felt so horrible in her entire life. She started believing that she was worthless, that she was nothing to Severus, nothing. She had only disgraced him, humiliated him. Her inner flame was dying, her spirit, her soul, was denying even itself the will to live. The will and determination she once had was gone.

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It was Divination, the class Harry and Ron hated the most, even more than Potions. It had nothing to do with training or becoming an Auror, but it was the one class that they would rather keep than switch to Arithmancy or some other class. As they took their seats, Ron made eye contact with Draco, who only glared back before a look of terror crossed his pale features. Ron needed to have laugh, and what the perfect opportunity than to have Draco fulfill the final steps of his promise.

Professor Trelawney was overcome with excitement, her usual dreamy, falsified voice gone as she nervously stuttered through her introduction to the day's lesson.

"Now, uh, class, p-please open your b-books to page 212. Study, the, uh, chapter and begin p-practicing the, um, adv-vanced crystal ball gazing depicted, uh, there. You m-may begin." She gave a sigh of relief. That was hard. Now, while they were all reading, she could examine all the Slytherins and try to find who was her Secret Admirer.

She immediately dismissed Crabbe and Goyle. They were pathetic and stupid lumps uncapable of anything. She went down the list in her head, throwing away each name, for none of them could possible fathom such deep feelings and words and put them to paper. But then she got to Draco Malfoy, and she could not bring herself to deny that he could be the one. She studied him. She had to admit, if he thought of himself as sexy, she agreed with him, which caused her to blush. She hoped no one saw that. She reached into her pocket, closing her hand around the now six letters from the admirer, all in the same writing. She began to walk around the room to pretend to check everyone's progress. When she got to Draco's table, she peered over his shoulder to look at his handwriting. She gasped. It is the same hand!

Draco felt her presence behind him, but he chose to ignore it for the time being. Sweat drops began to bead upon his brow, his hands clammy, his heart pounding. He was about to do the unthinkable. He stole another hateful look at Weasley, who at this point was watching, silently urging him to pull through, a triumphant smile on his lips. She was still behind him, her perfumed presence washing over him, the smell making him queasy. He mentally was gaining courage. Calm yourself, just turn around and do it. But don't make it too quick, otherwise Weasley might feel it unsatisfactory, and make you do it again. He shuddered. Just pretend she's really hot or something, then it won't be so bad. He thought for a fleeting moment, did he need to pretend?

He whirled around and in one deft movement, stood up, grabbed her face in his hands and shoved their lips together, thinking after a moment, Oh my god, she's actually a good kisser…Sybil was shocked, but she warmed up to the kiss and hungrily reached into his mouth with her tongue, caressing his teeth, Malfoy gave a whimper; Trelawney would not let go of him. The class watched in stunned silence, either to horrified to look away or too sickened to even believe what they were seeing. Only Harry and Ron found humor in the situation, but then when they did not break apart, Harry began to feel sick. Even Ron was thinking, Oh my god, I just wanted to be a quick funny thing. This is turning a tad disgusting.

Draco could barely breathe. Once she had shoved her tongue passed his lips, he had no choice but to follow. She would not let go, and then again, a tiny voice in his head kept saying, hold on, hold on, but his mind was saying NO! NO! Stop! Sybil Trelawney realized this must be the Secret Admirer, but for some reason he wouldn't let go. Finally, Sybil brought herself to break away. Draco stared at her, his breathing ragged.

"Detention, Draco. Seven o' clock, do not be late." She turned to the stunned students. "Class dismissed."

A/N: Probably a little too much info for the kiss thing. I assumed that the shock of it all would not make it too funny at first, but after the incident Malfoy will be in hot water and humor will find its way in…Depressing and weird, but review my friends! (Hope I didn't totally sick you guys out with the Draco and Trelawney thing. Maybe you might find it funny, in your own disturbed little minds…)