Sing A Song
folder
Harry Potter › Het - Male/Female › Snape/Hermione
Rating:
Adult +
Chapters:
3
Views:
1,526
Reviews:
3
Recommended:
0
Currently Reading:
0
Category:
Harry Potter › Het - Male/Female › Snape/Hermione
Rating:
Adult +
Chapters:
3
Views:
1,526
Reviews:
3
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.
Cantus Incantatem
Disclaimer: JK Rowling owns Harry Potter, Slipknot owns Vermillion Pt. 2.
Cantus Incantatem
How had he ended up like this again?
Oh that\'s right... the Dark Lord was vanquished, and an immediate celebration seemed to be in order. He just happened to be unlucky enough to be there when it happened--and on the wrong side--apparently. Because, as far as he was concerned, he was in Hell. And it just seemed to keep getting worse; take for instance, now when he was singing his heart out under the influence of some spell that apparently made you sing a song that described how you felt towards the first person you saw after being hit with the spell. He was just unlucky enough to be looking at his former student of several years and deniable love interest--meaning he\'d deny it if ever asked--, Hermione fucking Granger.
To make matters worse, he was singing a song he vaguely remembered hearing while in London, and the only reason he could actually sing the damn song was because of the spell. He\'d be damned if he knew the lyrics before they came tumbling out of his mouth. Unfortunately, it sounded like some twisted love song:
She seemed dressed in all of me
Stretched across my shame,
All the torment and the pain
Leaked through and covered me.
I\'d do anything to have her to myself,
Just to have her for myself.
Now I don\'t know what to do,
I don\'t know what to do
When she makes me sad.
She is everything to me,
The unrequited dream,
The song that no one sings,
The unattainable.
She\'s a myth that I have to believe in,
All I need to make it real is one more reason.
I don\'t know what to do,
I don\'t know what to do when she makes me sad.
But I won\'t let this build up inside of me.
I won\'t let this build up inside of me.
I won\'t let this build up inside of me.
I won\'t let this build up inside of me.
A catch in my throat, choke,
Torn into pieces, I won\'t. No.
I don\'t want to be this but
I won\'t let this build up inside of me
She isn\'t real.
I can\'t make her real.
She isn\'t real.
I can\'t make her real.
Fuck. Doubleplusfuck. The song was over, and he was left to face the consequences of someone else\'s spite. He wasn\'t going to ever tell anyone that the thought of Hermione fucking Granger was the only thing that got him through his worst days. He couldn\'t handle this. He just couldn\'t. So he did the most logical thing that popped into his mind: he ran.
He ran, trying to remember who the bloody hell had cast the damn spell, Cantus Incantatem, on him, so that he could exact his revenge later, but first he had to get away, far away.
He was alerted to the fact that someone had been following him when he heard a shriek and the sound of someone falling. Curious as to who would be stupid enough to follow him, he retraced his steps to find the one person he least expected to find: Hermione fucking Granger winded and gasping for air. Immediately, he started to run away again.
“Bloody fucking hell! would you stop already?!” He heard after getting maybe twenty feet away.
“Why should I stop, Miss Granger?”
“Because I need to talk to you,” she said simply.
“Excuse me, if I seem reluctant to suffer greater embarrassment than I already have,” he said and began walking away from her.
“Severus!” she called desperately. He stopped yet again.
“I don’t recall giving you permission to address me informally.” He intoned darkly, secretly loving the way his name fell from her lips.
“I’m not one of your damn students anymore, Severus; I’ll address you however the hell I want.” Damn! he didn’t need this; her fervor was arousing.
“Fine; what is it you feel the need to say?”He asked coldly.
“I—did you mean what you sang?”
“I was under the compulsions of a spell, Miss Granger. There is no way that I could not mean it.” He spat harshly, his face twisting bitterly.
“How long? I mean, how long have you—?”
“Been enamored by your beauty? wanted you? needed the mere thought of the possibility of having you for myself to get me through my day—through the war?” he swallowed and closed his eyes, his breathing ragged and slightly erratic. “Since you graduated and joined the Order,” he answered finally. He didn’t like his emotions being this open, but at the moment there was little he could do about it.
His eyes being closed, he did not notice her approach until he heard her speak again, and then he knew that she was standing in front of him. “Severus …, Severus, look at me,” she said softly. He did. He should have kept running when he had had the chance. And why did the things he wanted to say keep falling from his lips? He was setting himself up for rejection; and, yet, he could not stop himself: he still had hope. “You think I’m beautiful?” He couldn’t figure out what that tone was in her voice, incredulity maybe.
“Is that so hard to believe?” he asked. That hadn’t been what he’d meant to say.
“Yes. No one’s ever told me I was beautiful before.” She said looking at her feet, seemingly self-conscious.
“I find that very hard to believe. For that to be true, you’d have to be around people who are either blind or fools.” He watched as her throat convulsed. He lifted her head by her chin, then, to see tears streaked down her face. “Hermione….” She laughed then, a watery laugh granted but still a laugh, and he tensed.
“I think that’s the first time you’ve called me Hermione.” she explained. He relaxed slightly.
“Only the first time I’ve called you Hermione in your presence,” he admitted before he could stop himself. “Why do you cry?” he asked.
“Because… because this is the first time I’ve felt truly wanted.” Another tear trailed down her left cheek. He wasn’t sure what to do with a crying woman, but he had the strong urge to hold her to him and never let go. And, for once in his life, he let his urges have free reign. At least she seemed to welcome the comfort and wasn’t trying to hit him or run away. She actually clung to him like a lifeline, which rather baffled him.
“Would you like some tea?” he asked tentatively. He felt her nod against his chest and disapparated them to Spinner’s End. They reappeared at the end of a short walkway, because his wards wouldn’t allow apparition into his house, though they were practically on his doorstep. “Hermione, as much as I’d enjoy holding you like this forever, if you want tea, we have to go inside,” he said gently. He heard a sniffle and watched her wipe her nose on his cloak, which surprisingly made him smile a little.
He unlocked the door and led her inside. His home wasn’t much, but it was better than it had been. When he had been in hiding for ‘killing’ Dumbledore—stupid people should have known the old coot wouldn’t die so easily; though, he did die at the hands of Voldemort eventually—, he’d had time to clean his sorry excuse for a home. He noticed Hermione looking at his vast book collections—which reminded him that he needed to expand the interior to help make room for all of his books that seemed to be stacked everywhere around the house—and smirked in satisfaction, knowing she would probably ask him to lend her some of the books. He circumnavigated the piles of books in the sitting room to lead Hermione to the couch, and then he went to the kitchen to obtain the tea things.
Somehow, he knew that things just might work out in his favor for once.
A/N—This is my first SS/HG fic… in fact it’s my first fic in the Harry Potter Universe; though, not my first fic…. If ya’ll want me to write more please tell me… I may be able to appease the varied masses’ appetites… maybe.
Cantus Incantatem
How had he ended up like this again?
Oh that\'s right... the Dark Lord was vanquished, and an immediate celebration seemed to be in order. He just happened to be unlucky enough to be there when it happened--and on the wrong side--apparently. Because, as far as he was concerned, he was in Hell. And it just seemed to keep getting worse; take for instance, now when he was singing his heart out under the influence of some spell that apparently made you sing a song that described how you felt towards the first person you saw after being hit with the spell. He was just unlucky enough to be looking at his former student of several years and deniable love interest--meaning he\'d deny it if ever asked--, Hermione fucking Granger.
To make matters worse, he was singing a song he vaguely remembered hearing while in London, and the only reason he could actually sing the damn song was because of the spell. He\'d be damned if he knew the lyrics before they came tumbling out of his mouth. Unfortunately, it sounded like some twisted love song:
She seemed dressed in all of me
Stretched across my shame,
All the torment and the pain
Leaked through and covered me.
I\'d do anything to have her to myself,
Just to have her for myself.
Now I don\'t know what to do,
I don\'t know what to do
When she makes me sad.
She is everything to me,
The unrequited dream,
The song that no one sings,
The unattainable.
She\'s a myth that I have to believe in,
All I need to make it real is one more reason.
I don\'t know what to do,
I don\'t know what to do when she makes me sad.
But I won\'t let this build up inside of me.
I won\'t let this build up inside of me.
I won\'t let this build up inside of me.
I won\'t let this build up inside of me.
A catch in my throat, choke,
Torn into pieces, I won\'t. No.
I don\'t want to be this but
I won\'t let this build up inside of me
She isn\'t real.
I can\'t make her real.
She isn\'t real.
I can\'t make her real.
Fuck. Doubleplusfuck. The song was over, and he was left to face the consequences of someone else\'s spite. He wasn\'t going to ever tell anyone that the thought of Hermione fucking Granger was the only thing that got him through his worst days. He couldn\'t handle this. He just couldn\'t. So he did the most logical thing that popped into his mind: he ran.
He ran, trying to remember who the bloody hell had cast the damn spell, Cantus Incantatem, on him, so that he could exact his revenge later, but first he had to get away, far away.
He was alerted to the fact that someone had been following him when he heard a shriek and the sound of someone falling. Curious as to who would be stupid enough to follow him, he retraced his steps to find the one person he least expected to find: Hermione fucking Granger winded and gasping for air. Immediately, he started to run away again.
“Bloody fucking hell! would you stop already?!” He heard after getting maybe twenty feet away.
“Why should I stop, Miss Granger?”
“Because I need to talk to you,” she said simply.
“Excuse me, if I seem reluctant to suffer greater embarrassment than I already have,” he said and began walking away from her.
“Severus!” she called desperately. He stopped yet again.
“I don’t recall giving you permission to address me informally.” He intoned darkly, secretly loving the way his name fell from her lips.
“I’m not one of your damn students anymore, Severus; I’ll address you however the hell I want.” Damn! he didn’t need this; her fervor was arousing.
“Fine; what is it you feel the need to say?”He asked coldly.
“I—did you mean what you sang?”
“I was under the compulsions of a spell, Miss Granger. There is no way that I could not mean it.” He spat harshly, his face twisting bitterly.
“How long? I mean, how long have you—?”
“Been enamored by your beauty? wanted you? needed the mere thought of the possibility of having you for myself to get me through my day—through the war?” he swallowed and closed his eyes, his breathing ragged and slightly erratic. “Since you graduated and joined the Order,” he answered finally. He didn’t like his emotions being this open, but at the moment there was little he could do about it.
His eyes being closed, he did not notice her approach until he heard her speak again, and then he knew that she was standing in front of him. “Severus …, Severus, look at me,” she said softly. He did. He should have kept running when he had had the chance. And why did the things he wanted to say keep falling from his lips? He was setting himself up for rejection; and, yet, he could not stop himself: he still had hope. “You think I’m beautiful?” He couldn’t figure out what that tone was in her voice, incredulity maybe.
“Is that so hard to believe?” he asked. That hadn’t been what he’d meant to say.
“Yes. No one’s ever told me I was beautiful before.” She said looking at her feet, seemingly self-conscious.
“I find that very hard to believe. For that to be true, you’d have to be around people who are either blind or fools.” He watched as her throat convulsed. He lifted her head by her chin, then, to see tears streaked down her face. “Hermione….” She laughed then, a watery laugh granted but still a laugh, and he tensed.
“I think that’s the first time you’ve called me Hermione.” she explained. He relaxed slightly.
“Only the first time I’ve called you Hermione in your presence,” he admitted before he could stop himself. “Why do you cry?” he asked.
“Because… because this is the first time I’ve felt truly wanted.” Another tear trailed down her left cheek. He wasn’t sure what to do with a crying woman, but he had the strong urge to hold her to him and never let go. And, for once in his life, he let his urges have free reign. At least she seemed to welcome the comfort and wasn’t trying to hit him or run away. She actually clung to him like a lifeline, which rather baffled him.
“Would you like some tea?” he asked tentatively. He felt her nod against his chest and disapparated them to Spinner’s End. They reappeared at the end of a short walkway, because his wards wouldn’t allow apparition into his house, though they were practically on his doorstep. “Hermione, as much as I’d enjoy holding you like this forever, if you want tea, we have to go inside,” he said gently. He heard a sniffle and watched her wipe her nose on his cloak, which surprisingly made him smile a little.
He unlocked the door and led her inside. His home wasn’t much, but it was better than it had been. When he had been in hiding for ‘killing’ Dumbledore—stupid people should have known the old coot wouldn’t die so easily; though, he did die at the hands of Voldemort eventually—, he’d had time to clean his sorry excuse for a home. He noticed Hermione looking at his vast book collections—which reminded him that he needed to expand the interior to help make room for all of his books that seemed to be stacked everywhere around the house—and smirked in satisfaction, knowing she would probably ask him to lend her some of the books. He circumnavigated the piles of books in the sitting room to lead Hermione to the couch, and then he went to the kitchen to obtain the tea things.
Somehow, he knew that things just might work out in his favor for once.
A/N—This is my first SS/HG fic… in fact it’s my first fic in the Harry Potter Universe; though, not my first fic…. If ya’ll want me to write more please tell me… I may be able to appease the varied masses’ appetites… maybe.