AN: this takes place 2 months after the events of 'It's better this way' and 'Maybe it is'. Thank you to the people who reviewed, I hope you like this one.
AN2: also on Ashwinder
Disclaimer: own nothing, just taking them out for a spin.
Four little words. That's all it takes. Four little, inconsequential, meaningless, miserable words form a sentence that has effectively demolished all hope I had for happiness. It's better this way. Four little words. That's all it took to rip her away from me and permanently erase her from my life. It would have been so much easier if she had said them to me, I could deal with it then. I could understand someone being better off without me, she certainly is. But I can't imagine being better off without her. In all my years of study, I have always prided myself on my superior intellect. In many ways, life hasn't exactly been kind to me, I was scrawny, ugly and unwanted from my earliest years. However, despite the inattention and the ridicule I received as a result of the way I looked, I was always respected (or despised) for my intelligence. I was usually at least acknowledged. It was the one thing that I was always able to take pride in. But now, instead of being assured of my own intelligence, I am quite certain that I am not only a top level imbecile but that I am also quite likely a certified lunatic. I gave up the one person who ever willingly cared for me, loved me. I gave her up. Four little words. The worst part of it all, I'm the one who said them. No, not even said them, I didn't have the stomach to say them out loud.. I couldn't justify my actions to her when I didn't understand them myself. How was I supposed to assert my reasons to her when I can't even bring myself to believe them?
It's been two months of barely contained grief and an extraordinary amount of fire whiskey since I left her that note. A note. That's all I left her with. A pathetic note that explained nothing and destroyed everything. I've really got to move on, forget her, or at least pretend to have forgotten her. I suppose I always hoped that she would come charging into my classroom (hopefully not while I was teaching) and declaring her undying love and unyielding devotion. But who was I kidding? She's a Gryffindor, she may be brave and all that rubbish those Gryffindor types value but it also makes her invariably stubborn.. Bloody Potter and that cavalcade of Weasleys, I bet they all went rushing to her side declaring that it certainly was better this way, all the while whispering behind their hands that they knew it would never work out. What do they know? Idiots. And bloody Albus, twinkling in my general direction whenever I am within fifty yards of the interfering old badger, sending meaningful looks my way which I dutifully ignore. I did what I had to, she really is better off without me. I need a drink. Now there's four little words that I can definitely understand.
I wonder what she's up to. She never ended up returning my possessions that were scattered around her home. She probably kept them all for some archaic ritual that involves fire, chanting and lots of alcohol. I think I'm well on my way to being fully intoxicated, I don't suppose that's a good thing. On the other hand, maybe it is, dulls the pain. Ok, focus on something. Anything. I wonder if she has moved on. She's probably been on loads of picnics and other romantic rubbish with some pre-approved dunderhead, as thick as two short planks but with a fantastic personality. Lots of fucking sunny picnics with some random inbred twit. I wonder what the chances are of the random inbred twit being attacked by a wild hippogriff. I wonder if I could somehow obtain one from Hagrid and set it loose on every single boy who dared to touch Hermione ever in her lifetime. No, don't obsess. Don't obsess. Don't obsess. Don't bloody obsess. Of course, mass murder is a sure sign of a healthy state of mind. Imbecile. I bet she isn't obsessing about me, I bet she is just fine. Probably already engaged to some boy half my age and with twice my appeal. I bet he's a Gryffindor. Bastard.
Don't read it. Don't read it. Don't read it. It's been two bloody months I should be over the stupid git. I should be focussing on how much I loathe the very thought of him and plotting his satisfyingly slow and painful death, not trying to convince myself not to reread his stupid goodbye note for the millionth time. Four little words. Who'd have guessed that it could have such power over me. Makes me feel that maybe there is hope. He'll come crawling back. Well, maybe not crawling. Severus Snape does not crawl. Ok, fine, hope that he'll come striding back into my life and declaring that he was wrong, begging for forgiveness. Well, maybe not begging, he doesn't really beg either. Ok, inquiring if forgiveness is perceivable and declaring that he's loved me all along. Ok, focus. Come out of the fantasy, it's never going to happen. Not that it matters. I'm over him. Really. Great, that doesn't even sound convincing in my head. I really should have chucked that note out, better yet, burnt it and all other stuff belonging to him that was left around the house. But no, I have to adopt the ever popular role of obsessive, crazy woman, moaning over what should have been and treasuring everything he ever touched. I really think that perhaps I should seek some form of professional help. No, I don't want to talk to anyone about it. I don't need help, I need Severus. No, no I don't! Woman of substance, don't need anyone or anything but me. I've got all I need right here, lots of books, well, a few. Uh, lots of friends, well in all honesty, a couple. Ok, fine, I've got a nice apartment. Yeah, great going Herms, that's a very convincing argument. Who needs love and companionship when you've got a few books, a couple of friends and a tiny apartment. No one will ever question you on that. Stupid brain! Stupid, stupid, stupid brain! I don't need him. I don't. I. Don't. Need. Him.
Oh, sod it all! Who the bloody hell am I kidding anyway? I've done what was expected of me. I grieved and I moved on, in theory. I dated all the idiots who had the guts (or the sheer stupidity) to ask me out. Five in total. Two tried to feel me up after the first dinner, one stood me up, one snogged like he was trying to taste what I had for lunch three days prior and one capable of boring me to tears with his greeting alone. Severus never bored me. Patronised, yes. Annoyed, very true. Antagonised, on a daily basis. But it was never, ever boring. Truth be told, I tried my best. It's more than I can handle, I should've known better. But I didn't. Ok, fine, I give in. I'm going to go see him. No, Gryffindor courage. Gryffindor courage. Focus. Nope, not working. Sod it all. I. Am. Going. To. See. Him. Right. Now. But, maybe I'll change first. I know that at present I probably most resemble an ad for death. Not exactly appealing. Wait, I don't want to be appealing. I'm going to go and give him a piece of my mind. No crying, no begging, no pleading and no shouting. Ok, maybe a little bit of shouting. He deserves it. Four little words, that's all I was worth to him. Actually, I probably wasn't even worth that. No, no depression slumps. I'm angry. Not sad, not needy, not lonely. Angry. And I'm going there to tell him off. Right. Off I go then. Uh, brainiac, better locate your wand first. Stupid brain! Stupid, stupid, stupid brain! Focus, don't fancy getting splinched on the journey. Though on second thought that would make for a fairly memorable entrance.
Gods, I forgot how bright and cheery the world has a tendency to be in Spring. Hogwarts is still as beautiful as ever. Well, that's just bloody selfishness. How dare the world be cheerful when I'm busy focussing on the mass of pain residing somewhere in my chest. Ah, I love the taste of bitterness in the morning. I suppose its an acquired taste. Ok, here goes. The castle never looked so imposing. I wonder if he's changed his wards, probably has, doesn't want me anywhere near him. Wouldn't want me walking in on him at a, ahem, inopportune moment with whoever he's moved onto now. I bet she's a Slytherin. Bitch. Gods, why is there a sudden increase in pressure on my heart. That shouldn't bother me, known it for months, always suspected it, blah, blah, blah. Well, I almost convinced myself that time. Breathe, just breathe, it's all going to be fine. Sure, if he scowls at me, reiterates in clear detail that I meant nothing to him and I burst into tears and run away to lick my wounds and mentally inflict some more, everything will be dandy. No, that's not going to happen. You're angry, remember? Yeah, that's it. Good, walk quicker. Damn it, Dumbledore's twinkling at me. Acknowledge his existence and get the hell out. Ok, under control, managed to dodge almost all of my ex-professors and quite a few students.
Whoa, a lot of students are leaving the dungeons, some look pretty upset. Ah, Gryffindors, he must have been in good form today. Maybe I'll slap him, that would definitely make me feel better. Yeah, my palm on his face, that'll fix everything. Probably just make me uncomfortably aware of his skin and how nice it feels. No, focus. Almost there now. Damn Slytherins! Why do they have to be so anti-social? Why are they so far away from the rest of the school? Maybe I'll punch him, just walk right up to him and punch him on the nose. Oh, sure, breaking his nose and my nails is really the solution. Ok, I'm here. Breathe, just open the door and walk in. Open. The. Damn. Door.
The door swings open noiselessly but he turns around straight away. His eyes seem to drink me in and I catch a faint glimmer of something that looks like hope in his eyes before it disappears behind a carefully placed mask of indifference. My carefully (not bloody likely) prepared speech dies on my lips and I just stare at him. Gods, he's gorgeous. He looks tired, like he hasn't slept for days and his shoulders are a little slumped. There are more lines on his face than I remember and I've never seen his eyes so emotional. In all honesty, I've never seen a more beautiful sight in my life. I become uncomfortably aware of how much I love this man and even more aware of the fact that no four little words in the world can change it. Damn, but that's inconvenient.
"Hermione."
Oh dear, hearing him say my name, a slight catch in his voice, proves to be my undoing. So, brainiac that I am, do the only thing I can think of. I kiss him. While mentally chiding myself for my weakness and preparing myself for a scathing rejection I almost fail to notice his eager response. Hmmm, interesting. Even I can't mistake this for pity kissing. He wraps his arms around me and groans into my mouth when I tangle my fingers in his hair. Gods, this man has got a mouth on him. I never knew just how much I loved him. Oh dear, getting into dangerous territory now. I can't take another rejection from him and my heart feels suspiciously like it's breaking. Gryffindor courage. Gryffindor courage. Gods no, he's trying to pull away. I make a small whimper of protest and cling to him tighter. Not yet, please not yet. I'm ashamed to feel tears running down my face. Bugger Gryffindor courage, sod Gryffindor pride, I'm not ready for this to end.
"Hermione."
"Severus."
"What are you doing?"
I bury my head in his chest and inhale deeply. Closing my eyes I revel in the sensations of being with him once more. Raising my head I meet his confused gaze. Swallowing once, I try to prevent the tears from flowing. Typical, I come here intent on bellowing out my anger and end up crying out my frustration. Brilliant. I place a chaste kiss on his lips and pull away. I walk backwards toward the door and take in the sight of his class room one more time. I return my gaze to his face and heave a sigh. Gods this man is beautiful. An eyebrow is raised in question but his eyes are still full of emotion.
"Just making a memory."
Must find Hermione. Must find Hermione. Maybe she does still want me. What did she mean just making a memory? Gods, when she walked into my class room she was like water to a dying man. I knew that I missed her, that I loved her and that I was insanely jealous (and slightly murderous) at the thought of her with another man (or boy), but I never knew just how badly I needed her. My heart seemed to slow down almost to the point where it ceased all movement. I sucked in a breath and stared at her. She was magnificent. When she kissed me, willingly, hungrily, I thought I was going to pass out from the pleasure and die from the pain of holding her again. I knew it could go no further and that thought made me want to cease this foolish existence that I call a life. She cried. Why do I do that to women? Can't I just act like a human being? Can't I do anything right? What is wrong with me? Just making a memory. Four little words. That's all it takes. Must find Hermione. Her apartment, if she's not there I will search everywhere she has ever been seen and then, Gods I don't know. Must find Hermione. Hey, genius, you might need your wand. Right. Wand, cloak, wards. Done. Must find Hermione.
Her apartment looks the same as it always has. Yes, a light on in the window. Gods, I hope she's alone. I hope she wasn't coming to me as a final fling before getting married to some Gryffindor. Bastard. I bet that's it. Well, no point hanging around. Let's get this torture over and done with. Don't get your hopes up. Just walk to her door. That's right, up those stairs. Knock on the door. Go on. Knock. On. The. Fucking. Door. It swings open almost immediately, like she was waiting for me. Tension builds between us as we just stare at each other. I open and close my mouth a few times but no sound comes out. Maybe I should work on my communication skills. No, it's probably not worth it. Communication can be highly over rated. Looking at her, I can see the merits of just making a memory. My eyes drink in the sight of her. Her hair is a frazzled mess hanging around her shoulders and her eyes look slightly hopeful, but maybe I'm reading her wrong. Her left hand is nervously worrying the hem of the shirt she is wearing. Good Gods, that's my shirt! She is wearing my shirt! I didn't know she still had that. She used to wear it to bed, well, until she had no more use for it. My eyes linger on her hands and am relieved to see no jewellery adorning her fingers. A good sign, maybe.
"Severus, please come in."
Her voice wavers a bit but her eyes don't leave my face. She steps aside and waits for me to comply with her request. I step nervously over the threshold and am immediately assaulted by memories and images of our time together. I hear her close the door and turn around to see her leaning against the wall, not meeting my eyes. She seems to be looking at something, I follow her gaze and see a scrap of parchment. Obviously it was one that she had read many times over, it looks fairly worn. I do a double take and realise that it's my note. The note. The one with the four little words. Four stupid words. She still has it? And she's wearing my shirt? Even my suspicious mind can't find a grand scheme in the situation. These things are not meant to be seen by me. A good sign, maybe. She shifts uncomfortably and I return my eyes to her, noting that she is shifting uncomfortably from one foot to another. Abruptly she walks toward the kitchen calling over her shoulder something about tea. I follow silently, her back is to me when I enter the small kitchen, she is fussing over some tea utensils.
"Hermione."
"Severus, look, I'm sorry that I came today. I shouldn't have done it."
"Oh, well I-"
"You made it quite clear that you didn't want to see me. I should have respected that. I'm sorry"
Oh, what? This isn't how it's supposed to be. She's supposed to be despising me and telling me in glowing detail of her new found happiness with Mr Silky Hair Rich Boy. Or her recent sunny picnics with random inbred twit or apply for my congratulations on her engagement to some Gryffindor. Well, genius, set her at her ease. No, I can't take it back. I can't snake my way back into her life. No, she deserves more. Oh great work, now she's crying. Again with the crying, Merlin, I'm good at this.
"Severus? Can you answer a question of mine?"
I look at her in weary resignation. Afraid just what question she may be asking. Reminder, she deserves more. Much more. Four little words. Two whole months. Gods I love her. Wait, that's not my point.
"Why? Why are you doing this to me? I understand you wanting to end it, I'm probably the person you would least like to spend your free time with. I understand that. But why, why just leave? Didn't you care at all? Wait, I don't want the answer to that one. I already know it."
I stare at her in shock. Didn't she understand at all? It was for her benefit! Hers! Not mine! Every moment away from her was as close to torture as simple inaction can be. Four little words, that's all it takes. But it wasn't enough. I desperately want to explain it all to her, tell her I want her more than anything in this world, tell how much I love her, how much I need her. Easier said than done. She's sobbing silently now, trying to calm her emotions.
"Hermione, I-"
"Just go, Severus. If this is the way it's got to be-"
Gods, I can't do this to her again. I can't handle it again. I'm in too deep. Before I did it because it was her who would benefit. Great plan genius! Look how well she's doing. She's thinner than ever, her eyes look huge in her face with those damn dark rings around them. Her home's in a state of disarray I could never associate with Hermione. Her shoulders are hunched and shuddering with every breath. In all honesty, she's magnificent. A minute passes in complete silence. I watch her shutter her emotions, just like I do to her. Merlin, I never knew how painful it is to see someone you love shut you out. So I do the only thing I can do, I kiss her. The kiss is intense and I am lost. I know there is no way I can just leave after this. I'm not particularly upset about that to be honest. She moans into my mouth and I break away. Afraid of where this is leading. My breath is coming a little faster than I would like and when I speak my voice sounds husky to my ears.
"Hermione."
"Severus, please. "
"I can't stay, I'll be gone again in the morning. You'll regret it"
"I don't care. I won't. Please, I need this, I need you."
I knew the feeling. Hearing those words fall from her lips after dreaming about it for two long months had a strange effect on me. I looked at her and searched her face for any sign of insincerity. I had rejected her time and again and she still wanted me? I couldn't hold back, I needed this too much. I needed her too much. I kissed her again and then, gods, that floor was cold.
Gods that was a long night. It took us at least an hour to make it to the lounge room and then another two to get to my bedroom. I roll over to smile at Severus and realise he's gone. I get out of bed and throw on his shirt, exiting the bedroom and trying to look unconcerned in case he's just sitting in the lounge room, reading the paper. Nope, ok, maybe in the kitchen, cooking breakfast? Long shot, but worth a try. Eventually, after an extensive search of feigned indifference, I collapse on the couch. He's gone. Well, I suppose he did warn me. I should have seen it coming. I shouldn't be bothered by the fact that he left in the middle of the night, no goodbye, no thanks for the lovely evening, no nothing. He tricked me again. Stupid git. Ugh, I begged him to sleep with me. I begged. No, this can't be happening. I told him I loved him. Again. And again. And again. He never said it back. I wonder what he'll be telling his Slytherin cohorts this time. Wonder if he'll have more than one cheap whore satisfying him in ways I never could. I bet they'd be Slytherins. Bitches.
How did this happen to me. Again? I let it happen again? I begged and pleaded for it to happen again? What's wrong with me? Well, I'm definitely not going to read that note. It's better this way. Maybe it is. Those four little words. I won't let it destroy me again. I'll go back to pretending I don't care and dating people I can't stand. I'll go back to focussing on not focussing on him and acting like my heart doesn't break every time his name is mentioned. I've done it before, I can do it again. Gryffindor courage. Gryffindor courage. Gryffindor courage. Tears squeeze their way out of my eyes and I let them fall on my lap. I told him that I loved him, only him. Screamed it at him actually. I won't read the note, I'll burn it. Yeah, right. That'll happen. Don't read it. Don't read it. Don't read it. I told him that I loved him! Ok, focus. Keep busy. Don't think about it. I won't read it. Four little words. That's all it takes, gives me hope and demolishes all at once. I can't bear to read it again.
Involuntarily, my eyes slide to where the note always lies. Funny, it looks different. Newer. My breath catches in my throat. He left me another note? Maybe he just rewrote the old one, saw it was getting a little faded and decided that I needed a reminder. Bastard. Gryffindor courage. Gryffindor courage. Gryffindor courage. Sod Gryffindor courage, I wanna see what that greasy git had to say for himself. How he's gonna break me this time. I pick up the new note and read its single sentence. I clutch the parchment in my hand and close my eyes, letting the tears flow freely.
I love you too.
Four little words. That's all it takes.
AN: please review.