A/N: This is a short, one-off piece. I have the understanding that this would almost certainly never happen in canon, but I wanted to give Harry the arc of having feelings for Hermione beyond friendship, and Snape being able to relate with his unrequited love for Lily.
Disclaimer: I do not own the rights to the Harry Potter franchise. Only the story is original.
The cold wintry air had finally given way to the warmer spring breezes at Hogwarts. Harry Potter was in the midst of his third year of studies at Hogwarts. He had a lot on his mind... the end-of-term exams weren't all that far away, he had just finally gotten to meet his godfather Sirius, and he had been thinking of a certain someone more than usual lately. A lot more than usual.
One particularly balmy April afternoon, Harry pulled a rather large black case from under his four-poster and picked it up by the handle. He carried the case from his dormitory and walked a good ten minutes to one of the more secluded spots on campus - under a large oak tree on top of a gently-rolling hill. He popped open the case, and took out a beaten acoustic six-string guitar and began to tune each of the strings.
The fingers on Harry's left hand skillfully slid up and down the fretboard, humming along to the melody he strummed. His right hand firmly gripped the roughly-triangular shaped pick as he belted out a series of major-key chords. He wanted to write something happy sounding, something sweet and pleasing.
"Potter!"
Harry froze. The familiar baritone growl could only belong to one Severus Snape. "What in blazes are you doing? That... thing," Snape sneered, with special emphasis on the last word, "epitomizes Muggledom in all its squalor." Harry just looked at Snape as if he had a third eye.
"And Potter, why in the name of Merlin's Beard are you wearing a golf shirt and khakis? Surely you're aware that you're at Hogwarts and not at that faux-prep school Ilvermorny across the pond." Harry shrugged softly. "But Professor, it's Saturday, so does it really matter what I wear?"
Snape sighed. "Carry on then, Potter." He turned away from Harry for a moment, before turning back.
"Potter," he said, in a somewhat softer tone. "Is there a reason you're by yourself with that blasted device? Practicing a song for a girl, perhaps?"
Harry hung his head, somewhat embarrassed. "I suppose you could say that, Professor."
Snape nodded, and then slowly took a seat next to Harry. "This never came out from my mouth, so may Merlin have mercy on your soul should anyone else hear about it." Harry nodded. "Mum's the word," he said.
Snape sighed slightly, and began his story. "Years and years ago, before I even arrived at Hogwarts, I had a rather rough upbringing. I was largely ignored by my parents and didn't have many friends. When I was nine years old, I spent the few pence to my name on a beat-up acoustic guitar, a lot like yours, and taught myself how to play it. That guitar often served as my only friend - I played the devil out of it. I developed some really nasty blisters on my fingers at first, but my fingertips eventually were hardened by callous tissue."
He paused for a moment, his features hardening. "I played it for a couple of years until my father broke it in front of me in a drunken stupor. It was maybe a month before I left for Hogwarts. I have been angry with my father many times, but never did I have so much anger for him that one night. The only things that kept me from doing something regrettable were that I had Hogwarts to look forward to not long after that, and the other was a very special girl."
Harry was intrigued by Snape's story. "Did you play for her often?" Snape nodded. "I did. I played some happy songs, I played some sad ones. The look on her face when she saw me play, that is one treasure that I will forever keep." Harry could have sworn he saw a tear form in his potions professor's eye. "She hung on to every single note that I played. She would smile at the happy songs, she would sometimes cry when I played a sadder song. She was a very, very special girl and I count myself blessed to have been her friend."
Harry had a look of curiosity on his face. "Did this girl go to Hogwarts by any chance?"
"She did," Snape replied. He cleared his throat. "Come boy, let me hear you play."
Harry resumed playing the melody that he was strumming earlier. Snape's head bobbed slightly to the beat. "Here, Potter. Let me give you a few pointers. Hand the guitar to me." Harry took the strap off his shoulder and handed the guitar to Snape. "C Major is fine if you still believe in the 'cooties', but it's not really the best way to tell a girl that you like her in song form. I suggest trying it G Major." Snape then demonstrated the same melody in G Major, which created a bit of stirring in Harry's soul.
"You're right sir, that does sound a lot better. Like, more mature sounding." Snape nodded in agreement, before handing the guitar back to Harry.
"And who is the girl you're interested in, if you don't mind my asking?"
Harry couldn't respond right away, the sheepish look on his face quite plain to see.
"Oh for Merlin's sake, young Potter, I'm not going to tell her. Or anyone else for that matter," Snape said glibly.
"Hermione," Harry said quietly, as if he was ashamed to admit it.
"Miss Granger," Snape drawled. "I might have known. Mister Potter, some advice. If you have any feelings beyond friendship for her - any at all..."
"I know, don't bother, she's out of my league," Harry said with a hint of defeat in his voice.
"Potter!" Snape said rather sharply. "I would be most obliged if you would simply hold your tongue until I finish what I have to say."
"I'm sorry, sir," Harry replied. "I guess I'm not used to you... you know, giving me advice like this, this freely."
"Very well," Snape drawled, his tone back to where it was before he was interrupted by Harry's bout of self-pity. "I was about to say that if you actually like her, as more than a friend, you need to find a way to demonstrate your feelings rather than keep them buried. Your father and I did not get on well, but if there's one quality that he had that you do not have - at least consistently - it was confidence. James Potter was a supremely confident person. But be aware, boy. There is a fine line between self-confidence and arrogance and I hope to never see your ego get the better of you." Harry nodded.
"One more thing. Can you sing?" Snape asked Harry.
"I can carry a tune," Harry replied. "I'm working on some lyrics for the song."
Snape nodded, and then stood up. "I have to go now, Potter. I will see you in class on Monday. Promise me two things."
Harry looked up at Snape. "What two things?"
Snape gave Harry a slight smile. "First, always be true to her. Be kind to her, be understanding, put her needs before your own."
Harry nodded. "And the second?"
Snape, still smirking, replied, "Be true to yourself. Don't pretend to be something that you're not."
Harry beamed at the professor. "I promise that on both counts." As Snape turned around and left, Harry continued playing his banged-up guitar and started singing for a while. After a couple of hours, he set his guitar down, finally satisfied with the way the song had turned out. He took a moment to enjoy the moment - to look at the simple scenery around him, of the trees, the castle, the clouds in the sky. He listened to the chattering of songbirds and chirping of crickets. He had felt a sense of peace that he had not felt in who knows how long.
The sun had started to set and a slight chill filled the air. A figure in a red-and-gold scarf hiked up the hill where Harry had been sitting most of the afternoon. A sweet, clear voice rang in the air. "Harry! I've been looking all over for you today! Is this where you've been hiding all this time?"
As the figure approached, Harry was able to match the voice with the innocent, angelic face of Hermione. "Hello, Hermione. Would you care to sit down with me?" His striking green eyes looked into her liquid brown ones.
"Sure, Harry," Hermione responded gently as she sat down next to Harry.
"Hermione, I have something I would like to share with you..."
