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Bent
folder
Harry Potter › Het - Male/Female › Snape/Hermione
Rating:
Adult +
Chapters:
9
Views:
10,236
Reviews:
35
Recommended:
0
Currently Reading:
0
Category:
Harry Potter › Het - Male/Female › Snape/Hermione
Rating:
Adult +
Chapters:
9
Views:
10,236
Reviews:
35
Recommended:
0
Currently Reading:
0
Disclaimer:
I do not own Harry Potter, nor any of the characters from the books or movies. I do not make any money from the writing of this story.
Papercut
A-N - Once again, removed the lyrics to see how it sounded without it. Let me know what you think. Still a Prologue from Hermione's pov though.
She had started cutting after the death of her parents. The pain reminded her that she was alive...while they were dead. And the face that taunted in her the mirror reminded her everyday that she had failed them.
The guilt she felt was overwhelming; she often had nightmares of her parents blaming it all on her. She was the reason they were dead. She was to blame because she was a witch born from muggle parents in a world that was not wholly tolerant of muggleborn witches and wizards. Nothing brought her peace, not even sleeping potions that she took that were designed to stop dreams; she still woke up feeling guilty and drained. And her own reflection glaring back at her in the mirror was a constant reminder of how she had failed them.
At first, she had thrown herself into her studies, but that didnt help. She rarely talked to anyone anymore, even Harry and Ron. She constantly kept a hand on her wand on the offchance that someone was going to burst out of the shadows and end her sorry existence. Not that Harry really talked to her anymore. He was always off brooding by himself. And Ron just WOULDN'T leave her alone, no matter how she tried to brush him off. She wanted to suffer in silence and isolation. Ron would rattle on for hours and hours, trying to bring her out of her shell; to bring her back to the Hermione of old.
But that Hermione was gone; dead with her parents. That Hermione had still had hope, had believed that the light would overcome Voldermort. This new Hermione was hollow, emptty. Except when she cut. Every line the razor opened in her skin was painful yet full of relief. She had transfigured a sewing needle into a razor rather then using magic. A razor was muggle made; it was like her. It didn't belong in the magical world.
She noticed that he watched her more closely in Potions, even looking a little worried. But she didn't think it would be so, since he had never gave a damn before.
Then in Potions, she melted her cauldron. A stern lecture with a 20 point deduction from her house didn't phase her in the slightest. She was a shell; and she didn't care anymore. She planned to end it all anyways.
He kept her after class to talk to her, but she didn't pay attention, until he gently grasped her upper arm. He pulled back the sleeve of her sweater and let out a strange noise. It almost sounded like a sob.
The ice around her heart seemed to melt a bit as he took her in his arms. He told her of how he was worried for her; how she deserved so much better then the struggles she was going through. How he had tried to warn the Order that her parents were being targeted…but it was too late.
She pulled away a bit then softly asked, "Why do you even care?"
He looked deep into her lifeless eyes and answered back, "Because...I care for you."
Those five little words gave her some hope. "Can you make the pain go away?"
“I will do everything within my power to make it better...Ms. Gra….Hermione” he stuttered. A little spark of warmth radiated from her chest as she hugged him tightly.
"Thank you...Severus," she whispered.
She had started cutting after the death of her parents. The pain reminded her that she was alive...while they were dead. And the face that taunted in her the mirror reminded her everyday that she had failed them.
The guilt she felt was overwhelming; she often had nightmares of her parents blaming it all on her. She was the reason they were dead. She was to blame because she was a witch born from muggle parents in a world that was not wholly tolerant of muggleborn witches and wizards. Nothing brought her peace, not even sleeping potions that she took that were designed to stop dreams; she still woke up feeling guilty and drained. And her own reflection glaring back at her in the mirror was a constant reminder of how she had failed them.
At first, she had thrown herself into her studies, but that didnt help. She rarely talked to anyone anymore, even Harry and Ron. She constantly kept a hand on her wand on the offchance that someone was going to burst out of the shadows and end her sorry existence. Not that Harry really talked to her anymore. He was always off brooding by himself. And Ron just WOULDN'T leave her alone, no matter how she tried to brush him off. She wanted to suffer in silence and isolation. Ron would rattle on for hours and hours, trying to bring her out of her shell; to bring her back to the Hermione of old.
But that Hermione was gone; dead with her parents. That Hermione had still had hope, had believed that the light would overcome Voldermort. This new Hermione was hollow, emptty. Except when she cut. Every line the razor opened in her skin was painful yet full of relief. She had transfigured a sewing needle into a razor rather then using magic. A razor was muggle made; it was like her. It didn't belong in the magical world.
She noticed that he watched her more closely in Potions, even looking a little worried. But she didn't think it would be so, since he had never gave a damn before.
Then in Potions, she melted her cauldron. A stern lecture with a 20 point deduction from her house didn't phase her in the slightest. She was a shell; and she didn't care anymore. She planned to end it all anyways.
He kept her after class to talk to her, but she didn't pay attention, until he gently grasped her upper arm. He pulled back the sleeve of her sweater and let out a strange noise. It almost sounded like a sob.
The ice around her heart seemed to melt a bit as he took her in his arms. He told her of how he was worried for her; how she deserved so much better then the struggles she was going through. How he had tried to warn the Order that her parents were being targeted…but it was too late.
She pulled away a bit then softly asked, "Why do you even care?"
He looked deep into her lifeless eyes and answered back, "Because...I care for you."
Those five little words gave her some hope. "Can you make the pain go away?"
“I will do everything within my power to make it better...Ms. Gra….Hermione” he stuttered. A little spark of warmth radiated from her chest as she hugged him tightly.
"Thank you...Severus," she whispered.