A/N: repost. still like reviews tho.
disclaimer: not mine.
Yawning, I try to stay awake as Harry and Ron chatter through another Potion's class. I elbow Harry, scolding him, telling him to hush. I need to hear the instructions, and so does he. That's when it happens. He sneers at me in his usual way- but something is different this time. And oh yes, the INSUFFERABLE GIT is giving me detention!
I am a prefect; I can't get detention on the first day of classes! I wanted... I wanted things to become good again, for life to return to normal. But I guess that's impossible.
The class ends in silence, and the day continues. Evening encroaches upon us, and after Harry, Ron, Ginny, and almost all of Gryffindor have given me their condolences, I quietly make my way down to the dungeons, the dark corner of the school. As I enter the classroom, it takes all I have to keep myself from doing something rash.
I might love him, but Severus Snape infuriates me. I loathe the infinite hostile aspects of his character.
And yet- he's the only one who understands.
For the past seven years, I have watched him teach. For the past seven years, I have grown to know him. To most students, he is simply a "greasy old bat", to quote Ginny. But I know that his coldness is a defense, his anger is at a world that refuses to accept him, his love for his craft, due to mistakes of the past. He is where I place what little hope I have left.
I am Hermione Granger. I am not just any student- except to him.
Glaring at my students, they continue to chatter. They never listen to me, except through fear. I suppose it is all I am able to bring about in people; it is all I have ever brought about in anyone. But these are my students, and whether they listen out of respect or fear is of little matter at the moment. I decide to make an example of her; I give her detention.
Why do I work so hard at making her despise me?
The class ends in the usual silence, and slowly the day passes by. I suffer through dinner, as Minerva furiously questions me as to why her favorite student is receiving detention. I ignore her, silently leaving and making my way to my classroom and chambers. As I finish grading papers and potions, and begin to gather ingredients, she steps into the room, her head held high with an aura of confidence. It takes all I have to keep myself from doing something reckless.
I might love her, but I cannot let her know.
Unfortunately, she's the only one who understands.
For the past seven years, I have watched her study. For the past seven years, I have come to know her. To most teachers, she is nothing except a happy, smart little girl. But I know that her cheerfulness is a façade used to keep away a world that would refuse to embrace her, her thirst for knowledge, if it knew where it had taken her. And even though she doesn't know it, this seventeen-year-old girl is where I place my hope, if any can be found.
I am Severus Snape, but to her I am just another teacher.