Heal Me Chapter 12: Happy Birthday Ms. Granger

Author's Note: I disclaim being a British women whose name is J.K. Rowling. Everything related to Harry Potter rightfully belongs to her.

Okay, I know I'm totally late about Hermione Granger's birthday, sorry. Honestly, I was close to cancelling this chapter but I did promise to write it so here I am typing away on my computer. I hope you don't mind and that you enjoy this chapter since it's about Granger's birthday!

Why must I be a professor? Oh right because of my sin... He quickly walked across the corridor and turned at the corner. There he saw Granger speeding across ahead of him. He stopped in his tracks, he wished to limit his contact with all students, but Hermione Granger; she was the number one witch to avoid these days. He'd rather spend time with Minerva McGonagall or worse Sybil Trelawney than meet up with Granger. Snape had been hoping that the young teenager got the message that he wanted to avoid her. Unfortunately enough, Granger had been stubborn; she would try to stay behind his class or come early to potion class. Then there was the fact that she's continued to go to his favourite spot on Hogwart's ground. He's given up that space and hasn't been there for a long time now. He entered the shadows and fortunately she didn't hear his footsteps. She's walking faster than usual... is something troubling her? He slowly traced her steps because he couldn't subdue his worry or curiosity. Snape could hear muffled sounds; his sharp hearing could hear her whimper. He wanted to turn around the corner to see her but he kept his feet rooted to the floor. Next he could hear her feet moving again. Where is she going? When the sound of her footsteps started to fade away, he came out of the corner and watched her run. Now he knew where she was going; to his favourite spot.

He gritted his teeth and quickened his speed to his chamber. He ran up the stairs and stormed into his room. His owl hooted at the sight of his return. He cursed the damn bird as he saw the remainder of his pet's meal on the ground. Stupid, shitty bird. He opened his thick curtains and his judgement was right; there was Granger crying under the tree. He frowned at the sight and clicked his tongue while curling his fingers into a tight fist. It bothered him to watch Granger cry alone. Now why is she crying? How is it that I've already seen her cry twice? He closely watched at what she was doing. She brought out something out of her cloak. Snape narrowed his eyes attempting to see what it was. He couldn't see at this distance. It's best to ignore her, she's none of my concern. I bet she'll leave soon enough, Gryffindors are stronger than this. And that's what she is. A proud Gryffindor.

He blinded the room from sunlight once more and sat at his desk. He crossed his left leg over his right and glared at his owl. He snapped, "Clean up after your own damn mess." The owl screeched at him before he returned to devouring its meal. Disgusting. He opened his drawer and brought out his grey quill and a small, glass bottled full of thick, black ink. He tied his long, lank hair in a loose pony tail to keep it out of his eyes before he drew his wand out. With a flick of his hand, a great pile of paper came floating from the dark, corner of his room. He sighed at the sight. Marking is the worst enemy for every professor. Snape began to scribble over the thick, disappointing parchment that hardly answered the question he gave out to his students. He wrote out his comments on each paper and his comments certainly weren't sugar-coated. He transfigured a cup of black tea as he continued working through the never-ending pile of papers. He glared at his next paper that reminded him of something he had been trying to snuff out of his mind; it was Hermione Granger's paper. The first year students handed in their essays this afternoon and on Granger's paper, he stared at where she wrote her date: September 19th, 1993 (birthday!)He got out of his chair and glanced out the window. It looked like she stopped crying. It's her birthday so why was she crying? Shouldn't she be celebrating with her irritable, dim-witted friends? He tapped his long, thin finger on the window sill; What should I do? Wait, should I even do anything? Probably...Not? This is absolutely annoying. He didn't know what was so damn special about one's birthday, he never celebrated it, yet it means so fucking much to little snot-nosed brats. Should I go bring Potter and Weasley over here? Hell no, he didn't want to show them a vulnerable Granger or share her with anyone for the matter. Not only that, if he brought them over, they would pollute his one, favourite, peaceful area. He paced back and forth wondering if he should do anything.

To his surprise, his feet were shuffling down the staircase and over the cobble-stoned hallway. Why the bloody hell am I moving? Why? Didn't I decide to keep her away from me? That's what I chose, so why? This was infuriating and frustrating beyond words. He stood before the witch who was sitting in a crouched position. Absolutely irritating. He wrenched her arms apart to take a look at her face; her eyes turned pink and they were slightly swollen. "What were you crying about, you stupid girl," he asked while frowning. The real question was, why does it bother me to see you teary eyed. "It's none of your concern, sir," she replied. Sir? Where the hell was the damnable, cheeky, formidable witch who dared to corner him to teach her how to fly properly? She tucked her head under her arms once again. "Enough of this bloody nonsense," he growled with a low voice. He tugged her arms apart and brought her head back out and she glared at him. He clicked his tongue before he flicked her broad forehead strongly, "Ow! What was that for," the young teenage girl hissed. "Quit being so pathetic, it's an eye-sore," he stared down at her; please stop crying, it hurts to watch. It bothers me so please stop crying. He sat down next to her, "Today's your birthday isn't it? Don't most you brats smile and act silly on your birthday?" Her frown smoothed over and listened to the man next to her with surprise. "How did you know," she asked. He snorted at the obvious question, stupid witch. "Since when did you care what I did, haven't you been avoiding me," she asked. Indeed, since when did I give a damn about a student and like she pointed out, am I not supposed to be avoiding her? He didn't want to think, "So why were you crying?" "How'd you know I was crying," she asked back. Well damn, I can't exactly tell her that I know because I was watching her from my window... He gently touched her eyes and ran his thumb over her eye, "Your eyes, they are red and puffy. Don't try to change the topic, why were you crying?" "You are going think I'm stupid and silly," she whispered. He joked with a smirk, "I already know that you are a stupid, silly, insufferable know it all. I don't think it can get worse than that, Ms. Granger so it'd be easier for you to tell me the reason why." She lightly pounded on his chest for his joke and he chuckled in return. It's so dangerous to be around her, I can strangely relax with her being around. "I was just feeling homesick, I've always celebrated my birthday with my family. I know as a Gryffindor, I am expected to be strong-headed, proud, and fearless, but I can't help but feel sad or lonely sometimes."

What she said was a mystery to him, he simply couldn't relate to what she was saying. Never in his life did he miss his family, who would miss an abusive, drunk man and a neglectful, broken, woman. It was strange to him but he did feel sympathetic towards Granger; she was young witch who basked in love of her family. A part of him did feel envious but he snuffed out the emotion. He wondered, "What do you do on a birthday?" He never experienced a birthday celebration and he was remotely curious to what was special about it. "Professor, have you never celebrated a birthday," she asked timidly. What do I have to hide? "Yes, I've never celebrated a birthday," he meekly answered the question. "Well at my house, my mother bakes me a birthday cake like this," she drew a small cake on the dirt. He stared at the terribly drawn picture, it was a normal cake; glossed berries and cream on top, but on top the icing wrote, 'Happy Birthday Hermione!' along with candles. He tilted his head at the picture and stared at Granger; it was just a picture and she was smiling. He withdrew his wand out of his thick cloak and transfigured a cake that was better than the awful drawing. His decadant was small but well decorated; it was covered in thick chocolate and topped with glossed berries and shaved chocolate. The icing was extravagant, excellent penmanship that wrote 'Happy Birther Granger' in thin white chocolate. It was slightly covered with powdered sugar and for the final touches; there was a small tree and beneath it was Granger and Snape sitting together. He smiled to see Granger completely dazzled and awed by the cake. "Is this a cake you would use for your birthday," he asked and she slowly nodded. She complimented the cake, "It's absolutely gorgeous." He handed the cake to the teenager, "Happy birthday Granger." She wore the biggest grin he's ever seen; even larger than the smile he saw at her flying exam. It's made his chest feel warm and fuzzy; ridiculous. It's ridiculous for me to feel this way.

"Do you like it," he asked awkwardly. "I love it," she held the cake carefully, he watched her dip her index finger at the chocolate layer. She slowly licked and sucked at her finger, "it tastes delicous." Holy shit. He could feel his heart beating madly and he stomped on his foot for wishing that it wasn't her finger she was licking. She had a smudge of chocolate at the corner of her lips. Damn my self for wishing to lick that chocolate away. He could hear the lustrous voice in his head, rather than tasting the chocolate, wouldn't it be better to taste her? ... Damn. I can control myself. Control. Control. Control. He said, "Ms. Granger you've got chocolate on your mouth." She quickly wiped it off and thank God for that. Snape coughed to hide his embarrasment and asked, "What else do you do on a birthday?" "You'd usually sing Happy Birthday," she continued. Bloody hell, as if I'll sing. I'd rather go through 'crutio'. He must have grimanced because the witch started laughing, "Don't worry Professor, I'd never expect you to sing. The cake is more than I would have ever expected." He snorted, good, because I won't be singing. Maybe I should leave now, she seems more than happy now. He piveted his ankle to turn back to the safety of his room until he felt two slender arms wrap around his broad back. He looked down to see her untamed, bushy hair and her head pressed to his stomache. It took him for a moment to realize what was happening; is Granger hugging me? He could feel her warm breath passing through his shirt and her mouth move, "This is what my parents always did on my birthday. At the end of the day, they'd always hug me and today I'm really grateful for what you did. Thank you... Snape." She didn't call me professor... This memory sunk into his head before she released him. He was stunned and stared at the witch who was blushing.

Without a word, he left the scene and climbed back to his room. He locked the door and he slid down against the door to the cold floor. Damn, Granger is such an unpredictable, dangerous witch. Snape got back on his feet and glanced back out his window; she was still admiring at her cake. Am I happy that she's happy? Am I happy because she didn't call me Professor Snape? Am I happy? He watched Granger and whispered outside, "Happy birthday... Hermione."

It took me a while to cultivate an idea for this chapter and I hope you liked it! Please don't forget to review and I promise that the next chapter will come out faster next time! Cheers. :)