Understanding

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e age again, I own nothing. Dammit! All HP belongs to JK Rowling, all lyrics and titles belong to Evanescence.

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Understanding
Chapter Three:
Lies

****You will never be strong enough
You will never be good enough
You were never conceived in love
You will not rise above
Somebody tell me what made us all believe you
I should have known all along it was all a lie****


Finishing school wouldn't be that bad. After all, I loved it here, didn't I? I loved my classes. I loved my teachers. It would be hard to go on without my classmates and without Professors Flitwick and Sprout and Madam Hooch, but I was sure Dumbledore had the right idea keeping the school open. After all, mass bloodshed or not, this year was NEWT year. Perhaps Ron had been right when he told me I needed to sort out my priorites.

My parents had left the night of the assembly after asking a million times if I was sure I wanted to stay. I had only smiled at them, hugged them both in turn and said, although it would be hard to go on, I had my whole life in front of me and magic was my life now. They had understood, and hugging me extra tightly, with a warning to be careful, they had left me there again, knowing they'd return in a few short months to see me graduate. They had owled me every single day since, my mother sending well-meant but sappy encouragement and sympathy cards which made me smile.

After that day in the Great Hall, I hadn't seen Snape at all until Potions class bright and early that first day. I don't know what I had expected, but I never bargained for what I got...

I had imagined that without the burden of his secret life and since we'd formed something of a connection, Professor Snape may relax a bit, but, if anything, he'd become ruder and more inconsiderate. Not a class went by now that he didn't reduce a student to hysterical tears, and he seemed rather annoyed that he couldn't make more people cry. Through all the years, I had defeneded him, saying the stress of being a double agent had to be the reason he was so snarky all the time, but now the war was over, and I had no explanation of his awful behavior. Especially after seeing the human side of him. I tried and tried to think of explanations for his abhorrent behavior, but could find none. He never looked me in the eye in class, and for a short while, I mourned the sudden cut-off of his sensitive side. Then I realized he must have been in shock that morning because I came to realize he was, and always had been, just an egotistical bastard who really didn't care about anything but himself.

Things had gotten out of hand during one class in late May when the seventh years were brewing a potion that the other students were having a great deal of trouble with- Polyjuice. I had partnered with Hannah Abbott, who had been in the Great Hall and survived the final attack, but barely, a large shiny burn still covering the left side of her face- a fact that the Slytherins, led by Pug-Face, delighted in. I, of course, had no trouble with the potion, being an old pro now five years after brewing it for the first time, but Hannah, who had gotten into Advanced Potions by the skin of her teeth, was having the worst time she'd ever had with a potion- and she was barely better than Neville. Standing around our cauldron, I was quietly looking into space (yes, I was day-dreaming about Snape. Happy?) as Hannah tried to add one of the ingredients and dropped the vial on the floor, losing all of the volatile and very expensive substance. Without it, we could not complete the potion, but neither of us really wanted to go and ask Professor Snape for more. He was busy redecorating a second year's essay with a healthy dose of red ink. Finally, after minutes of pleading, Hannah finally convinced me to beg the Potions Master's forgiveness.

Approaching his desk, I felt as if the temperature in the room had dropped at least ten degrees. It was as if I could feel the hatred emanating off him in waves. However, I shook it off and continued my trek to his desk.

"Professor Snape?" Gazing down at him, I noticed something looking strangely like a Muggle bandage on his left arm and wondered what had happened. I'd noticed him rubbing at his temples all day, too. Something odd was definitely going on with Snape.

"What?" he snapped, not even looking up. I was a little unsettled by his rude response; it was somehow ruder than normal, but I cleared my throat and squared my shoulders and began.

"Sir, Hannah has spilled our powdered bicorn horn. Can we have some more, please?"

"No." Still, he did not look up. What the hell was his problem?

"But, Professor, without it we can't finish our potion!"

"I am well aware of that, Miss Granger, but it is not my concern."

"Not your concern? But you're our teacher! How are we supposed to learn if we can't even finish our assignment?" My voice had risen considerably in both volume and pitch during my mini-tantrum and now the whole of the class had stopped what they were doing and were gaping at me. That's right, Goody-Two-Shoes Hermione Granger was talking back to a teacher.

I guess now would be a good time to explain that I was not in a very stable mindset that day. It had been a really tough day thinking about my friends- the last Quidditch match of the season was to have been held today, Slytherin versryffryffindor. Plus, with graduation coming up, reality was hitting me hard and more frequently than before. Soon, I would be leaving Hogwarts without Ron and Harry. It didn't seem right.

I hated everything.

I hated everyone.

Oh, and I started my period that morning.

Son of a bitch!

Apparently thinking my tirade was over, Snape eyed me maliciously and slowly stood up. Trying to intimidate me, I'd bet.

"Miss Granger, I would have expected after seven years with me you would have realized that I have no intentions of coddling you." My eyes shot like darts to pierce through his, vainly attempting to control my anger.

"Professor, after seven years, I would have expected you to know I have no intention of being coddled," I stated coolly, my eyes never leaving his. "I simply wish to finish my assignment!" A sneer slowly spread across his face as he turned his back on the class.

"Of course, you're right, Miss Granger. You would never expect special treatment. I must have been thinking of your former Housemates." A slow wave of snickers made its way across the Slytherin side of the room as the remaining Gryffindors, Hufflepuffs, and Ravenclaws collectively gasped. Turning back to face the class, Snape opened his mouth to address them. However, my anger would not be contained.

"How DARE you?" I raged. "How dare you insult Harry and Ron and Neville and Ginny and the others? They all fought to save us, and they died doing it! They should be revered, not scoffed at! They are war heroes, and you lot," I sneered, pointing at the Slytherins, "should be happy not to have landed in Azkaban in a group cell, you traitors!" I was now physically shaking with anger. Tears welled in my eyes, but I refused to shed them. I would not give him the satisfaction. My chest heaving with emotion, I glared at Snape, daring him to answer.

Black eyes glittering maliciously, Snape moved around the desk to tower over me, expecting me to cringe as usual, but if nothing else, my final showdown with Voldemort had left me defiant, almost suicidal. My friends were all dead- all of them. What did I have to live for? I'm sure Snape picked up on my reckless attitude but it appeared he was in no mood to back down himself.

"That will be quite enough, Miss Granger. Perhaps you'd like to sit down when your adolescent, female-" he put quite a twinge of disdain on this word- "hormones have calmed down." My face was inches from his now, a sneer that could have out-Snaped him ever-present on it.

"No," I stated calmly. Snape leaned even closer to me, if that was possible without being very naughty, and hissed loudly.

"Fifty points from Gryffindor for insubordiation."

"You are an insensitive prick who has no right to treat people the way you do, let alone students left in your care! All you ever do is deman or belittle us, but you are through intimisating me! I'm sick of you telling us we're not good enough! We may not be all be as intelligent as you, but we try our hardest! I'm sick of you telling us that we're not smart or strong or good or whatever. I'm sick of your shit! I'm sick of your lies!"

Then would have been a good time for a power clap, but instead the entire class gasped at my brash statement, and, although many had thought it over the years, Hermione Granger would go down in history as the only student to ever tell off Severus Snape.

Maybe it'll make the revised edition of "Hogwarts: A History."

Snape sprang away from me as if he'd been slapped.

"Another fifty points from Gryffindor."

"Fuck off," I ordered calmly and succinctly. I had absolutely no use for his bullshit right then. Who the hell did he think he was, anyway?

There was an audible tremor through the room as I swore at him. Hannah grabbed my arm, but I waved her off. Even the Slytherins were trying to get me to calm down now,afraid for their own safety, but I didn't care. I had seen proof that Severus Snape was not an asshole, and I was not going to let him act like one anymore.

"Miss Granger, sit down before you lose all your house points. And you will refrain from swearing in my classroom."

"What the fuck do I care about House points?" I cried, flinging my arms to my sides wildly. "My whole fucking house is dead! I'm sure it'd be fun to share the celebration with Lavender and Colin Creevey, as that's all that's left of Gryffindor House, you know!" Color was coursing through my face, I could feel it, and I'm sure Snape had noticed that some of the blood vessels had burst in my face.

"I am well aware of your House's position, Miss Granger," he said, somewhat more quietly than was horm.orm. For a moment, I saw emotion other than disdain flicker in his eyes. "Now, please sit down, so the others can continue their lesson." A small battle of wills ensued and I ended up surrendering weakly, lowering my eyes from his. My breathing had begun to calm somewhat and I was prepared to take my seat when I heard Snape mutter under his breath.

"And I thought all risk of explosion had passed with Longbottom's death."

It took me a minute to process that statement and all that it insinuated. My insides swirled rapidly with a bizarre combination of sadness, hatred, fury, and betrayal. Why in the blue hell would he say something like that? It was clearly d did directly at me and was meant to hurt me. I was confused. I was hurt.

I was fucking enraged.

"THAT'S IT!" I screamed, dropping all my books loudly and purposefully on the desk. "That is FUCKING it! Fuck you! Fuck Potions! Fuck Slytherins!" I paused for a split second to gather my breath which was now coming in heaving pants. "You are a mean and spiteful man, and if I weren't so fucking pissed off at you, I would feel sorry for your pathetic little existence! Fuck you!" I ended forcefully.

And in one fell swoop, I collected my things and walked out of potions class, never to return.


****
Goddamn that girl! As soon as I had dismissed my so-called Advanced Potions class, I had flown into a blind rage, throwing things around the lab and cursing at the top of my lungs. How dare she? How dare she tell me to fuck myself in my own classroom? How fucking dare she?

I threw a bottle of pickled spider eggs at her desk, watching with sick fascination as they burst on her seat. Good. Now she'd have a sticky ass next time she came to class!

But, as I would come to find out from our esteemed Headmaster, Hermione would not be returning to class. It seemed she thought she could pass the NEWT on her own, without any real knowledge of what was on the exam. Go ahead, dearie, flunk for once in your miserable life! See what kind of jobs you can get without a NEWT in Potions! I think Honeydukes is looking for a new salesgirl...

Aaah! That girl fucking infuriates me! If I didn't want to fuck her so badly, I'd kill her!


Wearily, and with nothing more to throw, I slumped down behind my desk, head in my hands. What had I done? The one person who I could have had an intelligent conversation with, the one person I could have trusted, the one woman I could have loved...

I'd gone and fucked it up again, hadn't I?

Being the jackass that I am, I had insulted and alienated the only person who had
acknowledged me at all. It was entirely my fault. I knew that. And I was intelligent enough to know that she wouldn't be confiding in me any longer. She hated me, and with good reason.

But I had not snapped at Hermione simply because I was feeling sorry for myself. Alright, yes I had, but I was feeling sorry for myself for another reason. Today, it was not just the hang-over. Being somewhat masochistic, I had rejected the idea of taking a hang-over potion. I kind of enjoyed the throbbing in my head- it reminded me I was alive. Nor was it the cut on my arm which hurt like a mother-fucking BITCH this morning, or being forced to, in essence, babysit the little shit-heads. Today, I had received news from Dumbledore that had shaken me to the core.

After the war, things had not gone exactly as I had wanted them to, I'll admit that much. I was not expecting to be revered as a hero or paraded on anyone's shoulders, but it was almost a month since the final battle now, and I had not even received an owl of thanks from the Ministy of Magic. Not even a fucking note. I had lived almost half my life with the constant threat of death and dismemberment and no one had even bothered to thank me. No one but Hermione.

The Ministry, it seemed, had their hands full at the moment. Apparently, some little shit had it in his head to take Voldemort's unfinished work into his own hands.

Fucking Draco Malfoy.

Although many people wondered how Draco had somehow escaped the final battle, I knew exactly how it had happened.

He ran.

He ran as fast as his little bitch legs could carry him.

Now, however, it seemed that he was very much in the mood to fight and was completely pissed off that I had offed his father. Rumor had it that Draco was gathering a group of renegade Death Eaters and I was public enemy number one. He and the Death Eaters had already made some headlines in the Muggle papers, strange occurences no Muggle could explain. Muggles coming up missing. Muggle women raped with no memory of the event, only the physical evidence. And Malfoy made sure there was physical evidence. He carved a crude rendering of the Dark Mark into each of the girls' asses.

I really should have had that bastard kept a ferret.

So, in summary, no Order of Merlin for me until the rejects at the Ministry could figure out how to dispatch the whiny blond-headed bitch and his cronies.

I'm never going to get that fucking medal, am I?

So, you see, it was not entirely my fault that I acted like a second year to Hermione. I was under a lot of pressure. Fuck that. I was a bloody child, and I knew I had to humble myself and apologize to her. She would only be here another month before graduation, but a month was a long time with no one to talk to.

God, what had happened to me? Since when did I want someone to talk to?

Since the night you held Hermione and rocked her to sleep, the voice in my mind answered.

I told it to fuck off and drained the bottle of firewhiskey I kept locked in my desk. I think that perhaps I should lay off the stuff, but I couldn't have just left a bottle unattended, could I? There was only a little left, anyway.

Making my way around my destroyed classroom, I righted those things I could with my wand. Some things, like expensive and rare ingredients I'd destroyed would have to either be re-purchased or re-gathered, and I hated both of those tasks. Sighing, sitting, and hanging my head in my hands, I cursed myself for being such a self-centered prick. Those things I'd said to Hermione had been hurtful on purpose, and she hadn't done a thing to provoke me. Why am I such a jackass?

The rest of the school year proved to be uneventful, though news of the rogue Death Eaters had made its way into the Daily Prophet. It didn't seem to phase any of the students. They had been through too much to really care if any Muggles died or if some little prick was making trouble for the Ministry. They had faced Voldemort, why the fuck should they be afraid of Draco Malfoy?

But they should have been afraid, especially the Muggleborns. It didn't take a battle strategist to see what Draco was doing. He was warming up, practicing on those who could not defend themselves with magic. Previously, he had only had one attempted murder, and he had failed miserably. Dumbledore, his first attempted victim, and his army had defeated Draco's precious Dark Lord and his arrogant, egotistical father.

God, it must really SUCK to be Draco Malfoy!

How that little shit convinced others to follow him, I'll never know. But he had. Apparently most of my former students who had not died that night were backing the blond bombshell. In the month leading up to graduation, the number of attacks sky-rocketed, and I viewed each and every attack as a countdown to when the little ferret would come after me. He'd have to catch me while I was sleeping because I can tell you one thing. If Severus Snape could out-smart Voldemort for twenty years, he could damn-sure out-smart Draco Malfoy long enough to stupefy him and cart him off to Azkaban.

I wanted to kill him myself, but Azkaban really isn't that nice this time of year.

Weighing almost as heavily in my mind was the fact that Hermione looked like she wanted to rip my guts out and watch me while she forced me to eat them. I had made several weak attempts at apologizing to her, but she had refused to let me get past calling her name before making some excuse to get away from me. If I had really tried, I'm sure I could have made her accept my apology. But I didn't try.

Snapes don't apologize.

And so, waking up on the morning she was to graduate, I felt a sense of loss, but it was somewhat muted. I had been missing Hermione since letting Minerva take her from my arms to put her to bed that awful morning.

*******A/N********
Thanks everybody! You like me. You really like me! *tear* By the way, at last count, I had made five of you cry! I consider that my greatest accomplishment. I've always been good at making people laugh, so I'm glad I can jerk your emotions the other way, too! But seriously, thank you all from the bottom of my poor, deranged heart.

GrrArrg: You know you're my favoritest, right? I'm SO glad you liked it! I'm psyched I made you cry! I gotta stop reading t rev reviews, though. I can't stop writing with these blasted exclamation points!

tamargrl: Thanks so much, especially for taking the time to review. It's kinda disheartening to see how many hits there are and then how many reviews. I have to wonder whether the other 250 people just hated it...

Flick: I hope this was quick enough for you. But like I said before, there probably won't be another one for, like, a week... Sorry. :( (But keep checking 'cause now I'm compulsive about receiving reviews- must have reviews, tasty, nourishing reviews) Thanks for everything!

Star No Star: wow no1's calledme intelligent b4! Hope I haven't disappointed you. Though this may interfere with my planned chapter full of nothing but fart jokes...

Tanya: Yes, Severus will do something about his crush on Hermione. Just don't know if it's what you want him to do *evil smirk* And it probably won't be soon... but it IS coming, I promise! Gotta have some lemony freshness in here somewhere!

Vicki: Thank you, and thank you for taking the time to review. Makes you feel good, doesn't it? Tell your friends.

Anon: Happy to be of service! Anytime you need to cry, I'm sure I can depress you. :)

WendyNat: THANK YOU! I'm so glad someone liked the Hufflepuff line. It popped into my head right before I posted it, and I love it- it's my new favorite!

XxphoenixX: I am so sorry about your cousin. Besides my dad, in my life I've lost my grandfather, one grandmother, three aunts, an uncle, and a cousin and whether you know it's coming or not, it still sucks. I hope you're alright! Thank you for your review, especially the comments on her parents. Not surprisingly, the Grangers are based on my parents. They were almost Brady-esque. It IS frightening. And, no, I didn't name the Grangers yet, but I'm planning on naming her father after mine, but you can call her mom Helen if you really want to...

ArienAstera: Wow! Thank you so much! It means so much to me.

Talene: I'm glad you like it, and I'm glad to be turning you on to something you never really liked before (no pun intended!).

Bree: OMG, thanks! You rock!

Deb: Thank you so much! I love my Severus, too, although he's really just my goth side with a teensy bit of canon Snape thrown in. From the first book, I've KNOWN there had to be a reason for Snape to hate everything, and I'm one of those girls who dates jackasses like him to try and make them happy again. Never works, by the way. Only in ff, and for that I am forever grateful. *sigh*

Summer: Thank you. It means a lot!