A/N: Written on a whim, I really hope you like it. It's a bit short, though.

Paint All the Roses Red

 

Severus still berated himself for giving into his perverse fantasies he had woven the year he had been suffering the wretched mid-life crisis. To complete his castle in the sky, he brought one of his students to bed with him… though he doubted he could still call her a student, as it had been over a year since she had last sat in his class, her russet hair dancing wildly around her pink face, her arm never failing to stretch above the others.

He knew that one-day, he would regret making love to Hermione Granger, but his common sense became distorted with the dread of becoming old. He has been seeing her for nearly a year now, and in the first tentative and secretive months of their affair, he thought he had fallen in love with her, and he knew she had fallen in love with him, despite the fact he had failed to abandon the bitter tongue and rough exterior. He had been happy, he supposed, with the know-it-all that had once tormented him incessantly in his classes. But, only weeks into their relationship, she had changed. Hermione lost the glitter in her eyes, the eternal pursuit to learn more. She was tenser, less spirited, and Severus knew it was his error she had altered so much from the vibrant girl to the distant would-be woman.

Perhaps if he hadn't spoken with her in the bar, things would have turned out differently. Hermione would have married Ron, and would be pregnant with triplets, still has hot-tempered and sharp-tongued as the day she was born. Severus had no doubt of this, but she had looked so desolate (which he later learned was because she had a row with Ron), that he could not stop his cynical comment directed to her, which led into a rather profound discussion.

One thing led to another, and soon Severus soon found himself committing a crime he could not possibly have done without the aid of alcohol. Hermione did not know this, of course, and gave him her virginity, and all her purity was gone. At the time it did not seem unethical, but he knew that both Ron and Harry would slaughter him if they found out of their intimate relationship. Perhaps that would be a good thing. He has done something that could not be undone. Severus told Hermione he loved her, and she trusted him. Hermione said she loved him, too, though he wasn't convinced she's truly ever been in love to know what love felt like.

Severus was married, and he liked it that way. He was very much in love with her, and they had a son. They had been married for eleven years, and he was deceiving her as much as his own flesh and blood. He was deceiving Hermione, as well, as she knew nothing about his wife, or his son. Like his past students, they all thought him alone, unable to find himself love through his bitter façade, and his crooked nose. Unfortunately, they were quite wrong.

He thought he was in love with Hermione for some time, but it turned out to be a part of the strange fantasy he had fabricated. As his passing mid-life crisis faded, so did his love for Hermione, the portion in his heart reserved for her melting with the contempt he had for her and her mates. Yet, he did not have the heart to reject the girl he had broke, who was convinced that she loved him, and he her. Severus could not stand to have her hate him for what he has done to her, so he committed the same crime every Friday night, only to go to confession that weekend, swearing to himself he would not pull her further into seclusion and depression from the love that was not.

Now that he looked at her, every bit of her body was pale, her chapped lips turned into a frown in her sleep, he could only see a shadow of the girl he had once loved. The bits and pieces of her childhood were sitting in her lap in the form of a book. Severus lifted it from beneath her spider-like fingers, and read the title, 'Alice in Wonderland'. She was still a girl, and Severus was pushing it, though he could not stop in his pity for her, taking her deeper into the darkness of his world.

He pushed these thoughts from his head as she opened her eyes from the disturbance, and smiled at him.

Severus did not smile back.

As Hermione kissed him, she murmured, 'I love you', and pushed him back onto her bed, and Severus obediently responded with 'I love you, too', though he knew better. He sighed inwardly, wondering when he'd put them both out of their grief, and thought, 'next week', before closing his eyes and pretending she was the wife he was deceiving. But when he woke up at dawn, he knew he wouldn't be looking at the one he had shared his vows with, and there wouldn't be his son in the next room over, chatting enthusiastically, unaware of his father's irritated glares, but instead he'll see the girl he once again swindled into believing he loved her.

He was painting all the roses red.

Please review! If there are enough requests, I'll continue.