DISCLAIMER FACE: Damare! Not my fault I don't own it.

Chapter 8:

He couldn't help but smirk when he saw her sitting in their usual corner. She looked annoyed, nervous, and impatient all at once. Watching and admiring her demeanor, he stood behind a book case for a few more seconds before he emerged behind the corner. He walked in long strides at a slow tempo until he was standing at his new usual place (since she had now gotten used to his former one). He sat down, raising an eyebrow at her, watching her squirm at the pressure of his gaze.

There was absolutely no question in his mind that she had changed him. He wasn't blind enough to not see it in himself. He saw it daily even before they had their little spat. He woke up because he wanted to, not because he needed to. He'd sit up in his bed, his head a little less crammed with thought, stretch for a few seconds, then go about his usual routine with a little less self-loathing than he had gotten used to these past few years. That was the biggest change. He didn't hate himself nearly as much as he used to.

He blamed himself for events that occurred directly because of him, but he also blamed himself for anyone he had contact with that was harmed. Severus had gotten used to pushing away these guilty thoughts and justifying them. He didn't want to do this, but he had to. He had to get the power. He had to get the rush. Murder was like a drug with all the positive and negative effects. And now that he was a Deatheater, he didn't feel as guilty because he no longer had a choice. It was life with hate and shame or death.

That was one thing she hadn't changed about him. He was still the sick, sadistic bastard who enjoyed watching people struggle because of his control over them. She would never change that. She couldn't. As much as she had some sort of twisted control over him and his thought process, she couldn't control an instict he naturally had since he was just a young boy. That's probably why he was intrigued with her. He couldn't manipulate her to gain control… even if it seemed she was presently quite under his control. He didn't count that though. She was nervous about the events that would unwind in the next few minutes of their conversation.

"Hermione, I see you've made it here alright." He said in an amused tone, a sneer coming onto his face. She seemed to snap out of some sort of trance at his words and nodded politely. "Would you like to say anything?"

"I talked to Remus about this thing." She said, pointing between them. She, however, didn't continue.

He laughed inwardly at her way of stating their current situation. As much as he wanted to know her thoughts on their relationship and what the wolf thought of it, he couldn't help but want to make this as painful as he could for her. She looked entirely unsure of what to say.

He didn't take that as any indication of what her answer would be. She was simply nervous because she was uncomfortable in the situation and didn't know how he would react. He wasn't sure what he wanted the answer to whatever he was asking. What was he asking? Did he want to date this girl? This, insufferable, know-it-all, infuriating, frustrating Gryffindor? He couldn't be intimate. He couldn't even be around her. He cringed at touch.

He always had. He always would.

"He helped me sort out my feelings though I do admit I'm not completely sure of them." She took in a deep breath before she stopped playing with the hem of her skirt and looked him straight in the eyes, a determined look in them. "Actually, I am. I've just been afraid. I've been afraid of what you would say. I'm afraid that you'll ridicule me or use this against me. I have insecurities I'm brave enough to admit to. I'm also brave enough to admit that you scare me." Before he could have a hundred different thoughts running through his head again, she continued.

"You don't scare me because of what you've done, will probably continue to do, and who you are. You scare me because you know what you want. You scare me because you have this… I don't know what it is exactly. All I know is that I really do enjoy your company. And Remus thinks that I'm… Well, I won't go into that now."

Her words had no relevant meaning whatsoever. He already figured she enjoyed his company. He already knew he scared her though he didn't know her exact reasoning. She was an odd creature just admitting that to him as if it was just so simple to say. He could tell it wasn't because the second the words left her lips, she started fiddling with her skirt again. Somehow, though, her words disappointed him.

Severus had felt quite a bit of disappointment in his life, but this seemed to go deeper than he would've liked. He didn't know why exactly. What was it he wanted her to say exactly? A confession of her love? He almost snorted to himself. Was she giving him pity? If she was, she would dearly pay and find out exactly why he was not to be pitied. He stared at her, his face in a set expression, his eyes not revealing anything. If she didn't want to say anything, neither would he.

"Oh stop glaring like that." She rolled her eyes, waving his gaze off.

What was she playing at, talking to him like that… like he was… some sort of five year old whose hand was being slapped away from the cake. "Excuse me?"

"I said to stop glaring like that. Wasn't what I said satisfying enough for you? I'm not sure what exactly you're wanting me to say. You've given me no indication!" He wanted her to say that she wanted him.

He blinked at his own internal confession. His eyes glazed over as his mind was filled with a million different ways to respond. He wanted her. He not only wanted her companionship; he wanted her body. He wanted to do the disgusting things that random Gryffindors did in the halls. He wanted to do the things with her that he busted people for during his Prefect duties. He didn't want to do it in public or to that extent, but he did want to embark on some sort of deeper journey.

And then his life flashed before his eyes. It really was an end of an era for him. He had now completely changed. He had gone from sadistic bastard to… well… sadistic bastard, but he was less sadistic than before. He still ached to hurt the people around him that bothered him. He still itched to wave his wand and get Dumbledore's eyes to incessantly stop twinkling like that. He still wished that he could Crucio their damned potions teacher for so crudely killing the entire subject. He still wanted to be on the winning side of this war. He still wanted to do everything he had before, but he was not willing to go through any means to achieve that. He did not want to kill (not that he ever did, but he just wanted to do it less now).

He hated her more than ever, at this very second. She was the only person he wanted to kill (except maybe Voldemort), ironically enough. He wanted to do it manually, to see her eyes frozen in fear as she died a slow, painful death. He wanted to have her blood dripping down his hands, to see her body stop moving. He wanted to have that picture embedded into his mind and suffer from it. He wanted to think of himself so lowly that he'd have to kill himself or live with the despair he had rightfully caused himself for the rest of his life.

But, he couldn't do that. He couldn't take her life away from her. He couldn't bare the guilt of no one ever being able to see her eyes shinely brightly as she raised her hand to answer yet another problem. He couldn't bare to not see her eyes shining brightly. He couldn't stand the guilt of no one ever being able to feel her soft touch again as she comforted them. He couldn't stand to not feel her touch. And oh, what would the world be like without Miss Granger's constant nagging about trivial subjects that would never matter again? He smirked inwardly.

"I want you to be honest and not diplomatic." He said, his eyes going straight to hers.

"That's rich coming from the most formal person I know. And what's this I hear about letting James Potter drop from the Astronomy Tower last night?"

He had to contain his laughter. Damned Potter was violating his Head Boy duties with Lily Evans. If he was out of the way, then he could maybe have the position. Too bad that Evans was quick with her wand and managed to levitate him safely back into the tower. But… no one saw him. Otherwise, he'd be in massive trouble right now.

"Let's not get off the subject at the moment… even though I'm curious to know how you knew it was me and not an accident."

"Well, Severus, I feel a bit intimidated to tell you how I feel when I have no indications whatsoever about your feelings. For all I know, you could simply be playing on my emotions and then laugh at them when I leave here."

He almost laughed at her words. Sure, Severus was cruel, but he was not so open as to tell other people of his own moments with people unless they were his latest conquest over Potter. The truth is that he was a little hurt at her accusation. By now, she should know that what she said was the furthest thing from the truth. What he had with her was more of a love-hate relationship.

"I hate you, Hermione." He watched her eyes sparkle with tears, but he made sure to continue before any of those leaked out. "And yet, I think I'm falling in love with you. It's really quite cliché and ironic. It's the satire in my heart that's making these feelings appear in this form. I hate you, yet I love you. I hate you because you've completely changed me. But then I see your smile and hear your laughter. I hear my own laughter echoing with yours. That's something I haven't heard in a long time. I'm just scared of what will happen to you because of me.

"I couldn't have your death on my conscience. It would kill me. You know what it means to kill. It would kill me, Hermione."

He watched as tears successfully spilled out of her eyes. Her face became flushed with color. It was a nice contrast to the pale that it was for the rest of their almost hour long meeting now. Her eyes became that same color red as tears freely flowed down her cheeks and dropped on the table. She now started to shake. He supposed it was because of the impact of the words. He felt at a loss of what to do. What could he do? Should he reach over to take her in his arms? Should he smirk, call her an imbecile, and walk away? He hadn't encountered this situation before with someone he actually cared about.

He sighed, once again at a loss. He looked down at the table. Anything would be better than looking at her at the moment. The sight broke his heart. He heard the chair scraping as she got up with great force. He looked up. He saw her almost jump towards him. She had a smile on her face, her bright brown eyes contrasting the red that was surrounding them.

"I don't care. I just don't care about what will happen tomorrow or even later today. I know that I want you." With those words being said, she dropped into his weight. She was definitely a friendly weight. Her heat warmed him up immediately. Or was it her words? Those were the words he was dying to hear. And now he had.

For that moment, he didn't care about his future or her future. He didn't care about the pile of homework that would be accumulated on his desk by tomorrow evening again because he would spend his time with her. He didn't care about the Deatheater meeting he had next week. All he cared about at the moment was that she was here, close to him.

A/N: There it is. But... LAST LOVE ORIENTED CHAPTER FOR A WHILE. As all brass players know, spit happens... so... expect controversy.

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