Ceye's note: Interesting point that you bring up, NinjaTwix/vampirala69/windyshoes! However, it may help to try and see Hermione's feelings another way: Severus Snape is not a typical love interest, for two main reasons. One is in that he is not really her "boyfriend" in the typical teenager sense and he is so much older and lives a very different life from the students, especially the Gryffindors we spend so much time reading about. Second is that her time with Snape is a hot and exciting ordeal, a bout of breaking many rules against her better instincts to explore a new, physical facet of life she has little experience with, which is already a bit out of character for Hermione but is obviously necessary to make this whole plot even happen.
This entire time, she's still had a canon thing for Ron, but with Snape – the focus – she has been incredibly preoccupied. However, still wanting to have an actual boyfriend, especially when Snape's jealousy rears its head, she finds out that just after seeing such hostile emotions come from Snape, even Ron is now trying to make her jealous. The only person who's never done any of these negative things to Hermione is Harry. Harry, who keeps himself near her when she is having difficulties getting either Snape or Ron to pay attention to her; Harry, who has been growing feelings for his best friend ever since his few affectionate times with her dashed his infatuation with Cho and Ginny. He now assumes her "boyfriend" role.
Snape still has a place in Hermione's heart, but keep in mind that he has been so busy with thinking of Death Eater business that he hasn't had much time or presence of mind to be with her at all, leaving quite an opening for affection from someone else. Many weeks pass at a time in the sixth book where Snape's thoughts are a complete jumble with everything he has to think about involving Malfoy and the like. How do you think Hermione feels about his distance through all that? Even though he's special to her, her life hasn't changed nearly as much as his has. Her youthful, unlocked affectionate and sensual nature has no time to stop despite the darkness of his hard times; now it has been brought out from its confines and must continue to grow, with or without him. If such an idea bothers you, I can understand you stopping reading as you prefer the story goes the way you wish it to instead.
But what will happen with Snape now, then? Well, that's what this ride is all about, right? ;)
* 48 *
Harry and Hermione walked calmly back to the celebration. Hermione originally had no mind to return ("It's so loud, and those two are probably gloating up there," she remarked neutrally), but they had something big to celebrate now.
She gave Harry, her longtime best friend, a lopsided, flirtatious smirk as they walked back upstairs, and she wrapped her fingers shyly around his. In return, he gave her a look with a raised brow that set her heart in flutters, pulling her gently forth as they walked to air-kiss her once tentatively atop her hair. His actions told her not to be shy around him; she never had to worry about that kind of thing around Harry, of all people.
Merlin's beard, Hermione was so happy. She was finally dating someone special, someone who treated her right, who knew her inside out, and who was as familiar with her moods and subtle idiosyncrasies as he was with the back of his own hand. And as crazy as it seemed, he even appeared to like her for it.
Before they reached the party again, they dropped hands; they weren't ready to make that particular announcement yet. They saw no need to rush it. Besides, people were still celebrating Ron and Lavender; to add their own newfound relationship to the mix would surely make everyone's heads explode. No, let Ron and Lavender have their time, they both thought. They didn't want to be the never-ending subject of gossip yet if they could help it.
Hermione began chuckling to herself. She found it so silly now, the idea that Ron being with Lavender could ever hurt her, a brilliant and amply accomplished witch of Hogwarts. And even more than that, why should she be jealous of Lavender when she already knew exactly what it was like to be the only girl Ron saw? Hermione had intuited for a while that Ron had feelings for her. His complete lack of manners even when he was crushing on a girl should have proven to her that he was hardly worthy boyfriend material.
Now, by comparison, for Hermione to even call Harry by the word "boyfriend" felt so…beyond unsatisfactory. Ron and Lavender, a couple that had just gotten involved with each other, were "boyfriend and girlfriend." For Harry and Hermione to use the same terminology for their own relationship – one wherein the two involved had seen so many things and shared so many different experiences together over many years – felt incredibly hollow.
The fact that there was no satisfactory shorthand word to describe the bond they felt with each other would actually feel quite humorous, if they weren't in a situation where they'd eventually have to call their relationship by something short like that that other people would understand.
Hermione amused herself with these thoughts as they climbed back up the steps. But to their shared surprise, when Harry and Hermione got back inside the portrait hole, Ron and Lavender were nowhere to be found.
I guess they went off to snog even more after that, Hermione thought. She shook her head almost humorously.
It didn't matter. She and Harry had something to mark now.
They stayed, giving each other meaningful looks the whole time, as the others who hooted and howled for themselves remained blissfully unaware of the news that would soon be on nearly everyone's tongue in all of Hogwarts.
That night, Hermione had lain awake for a long time.
She was considering how incredibly silly she had been for so long. Looking back, it had all been so obvious. Harry was the one who saved her from the Chamber of Secrets. Harry was the one who comforted her. Harry was the one who was always mindful of his speech so that he wouldn't make her feel worse when she already felt at her worst.
It was always Harry.
"I'm such a bloody git," she whispered to herself, but she smiled before finally drifting off to sleep, complete with endlessly pleasant dreams.
She was so elated about everything the next morning that she decided to devote a little extra time to make her outside look as good as her inside felt. She was excited to see Harry that day.
Just a little longer, she thought nervously, brushing through her hair carefully, I've just got to make my eyes a little bit more prominent.
Harry was already in the Great Hall, but he was spaced out. He was thinking of Hermione, his best friend, and now his…
"Hey, mate," Ron called from across the table.
"Hi, Ron," Harry said, but his voice was not as candid and friendly to him as it normally was.
Ron looked happy. No, Harry thought, that wasn't the right word. He looked smug, like he had won some stupid little game. The look on his face made Harry grimace in disgust.
As if to add insult to anger, Ron opened his mouth and asked, "Did Hermione say anything after I left last night?"
Outrageous. Ron was speaking of last night as if he and Hermione just had a casual chat before departing for bed.
"Ron…" Harry growled lowly in warning. He thought for a moment of what he could say to him as his protectiveness fiercely fought to take over. He could insult him. He could call him an absolute crazy imbecile for ever purposefully trying to make Hermione feel that way.
"She didn't deserve that," he said between clenched teeth instead, trying to keep his core still despite its frothing fury.
Ron just gave him an innocent look, as if he didn't know what ever Harry could possibly mean. Harry wanted to break his metal fork in half.
Soon, a few gasps in the room turned their attention toward the entryway, interrupting Harry's dual-sided musings about how to possibly punch his best mate in the face without actually hurting him. The two of them quickly figured out what the commotion was all about as they twisted to look in the same direction.
In the entrance stood Hermione, not only a brilliant witch, but now also a vision of beauty. She was wearing only a small amount of makeup (which she had no doubt borrowed from a friend, Harry thought, as he knew she kept none of her own), but her eyes and lips popped out so incredibly beautifully from the soft, ivory curves of her face that Harry positively ached to see her up close.
Happily, she acknowledged everyone was staring at her with a small, modest grin, then made her way over next to Harry and Ron.
"Good morning," she said evenly to the both of them. Despite what she had witnessed yesterday, no sorrow or remorse could be heard in her tone.
"Good…morning…" Ron stammered out, still unaware of his jaw left hanging on the table. She's surely trying to impress me after seeing me with Lavender, he thought. That's it. His ego purred.
Hermione sat down next to Harry and gave him a knowing smirk. His face was blank for a second or two in awe, but then gave rise to a dashing smile that extended from ear to ear.
Even Harry thinks she's done a good job cleaning up, Ron thought, observing the two with even nerves. I always knew she could do it. Why didn't she ever do that before for me? he almost lamented. A little late now… he told himself as his eyes roamed longingly over her feminine-looking face.
I guess I had to make her jealous for her to start trying harder, he comforted himself, twiddling his thumbs together distractedly and at last averting his gaze.
Finally, people's eyes in the room started diverting from her again. She may have been beautiful, but she was still just the misfit, the one that someone as clueless with girls as Ron had cast aside. Quite frankly, she wasn't worthy of their attention if she couldn't even captivate Ron's.
Hermione was glad to be visually left alone for a little while. She peered around the room a little to make sure of it before looking back to Harry.
There he was, her guardian.
"Harry, good morning," she said separately, to him and him alone.
"Good morning, Hermione," Harry said back, his head still turned fully toward her as he was unable to take his eyes off of her beautiful face. Hermione giggled.
Ron looked between the two of them and rolled his eyes. "Jeez, Harry," he said simply, as if to imply you don't need to stroke her ego like that. His own became disgruntled.
When Harry didn't listen to his friend's silent request, Ron slumped back moodily and poked at his food.
It was not meant to be for him to eat in peace and quietude, however. Soon, he was rushed by none other than Lavender Brown.
"Good morning my wittle Won-Won," she said, kissing him on the cheek, then once quickly on the lips, drawing back to give Hermione a victorious look.
Ron quickly looked meaningfully at Hermione, but to his dismay, she was still looking at Harry, and only gave the two of them a cursory glance.
"Come, come, hurry up, we have to go see all of my friends. They're just dying to meet you!" Lavender said, tugging on Ron's sleeve. He wasn't even finished with his food before being suddenly and unceremoniously brought to his feet and dragged away. He grabbed in the air at Harry, mouthing "Help me" as he was whisked off.
Harry merely shook his head once in humor, then focused back on the vision before him. They continued flirting, huddling closely and talking to each other in lower, more deliberate voices than usual.
Harry stopped to breathe out at the incredibly reality. This pretty girl was his to hold and to touch. He wanted to do so now, but this was not at all the ideal time for that. He contented himself just to talk in hushed tones with her as she delicately threaded her fingers through his hair again, but quickly so it didn't seem too loving.
Though she basked in elation as she touched him, she was surprised when her fingers brimmed with an odd tingling inside of them. Hermione couldn't shake the feeling that there was something, someone at the back of her mind trying to press through… But there was negativity in this feeling, some part of disapproval associated with it, that made it difficult to break fully through to the forefront of her ecstatic mind.
No one seemed to be focused on the two of them now. They had this time all to themselves, away from prying eyes of nosy students.
All except for one Severus Snape.
Snape, who had seen the whole thing.
Snape, who now looked down his nose in near-blinding fury, strands of dusky black hair framing his sallow face of contemplative darkness.
