Understanding

See all other disclaimers- I'm tired of writing it!


Understanding
Chapter Four:
Going Under

****Blurring and stirring the truth and the lies
So I don't know what's real and what's not
Always confusing the thoughts in my head
So I can't trust myself anymore
I'm dying again
I'm going under
Drowning in you
I'm falling forever
I've got to break through****


The morning of graduation loomed and the only thing I could think of was how glad I was to be going home for the summer and getting out of this goddamn castle and away from my formerly-esteemed Potions Master. I would never show Snape exactly how much his comments had hurt me, and I would never let him know that in those mornings after the slaughter, he had been my solace and I had fallen in love with him. It didn't matter to me that he had tried to apologize and that he seemed genuinely contrite and had allegedly been much kinder to his students since I told him to fuck himself. After allowing me to see him for who he truly was, I could never forgive him for cutting himself off from me as he had and for acting so bloody childishly.

We shared a bond no one else in the whole world could claim to share. We two had been the sole survivors of a terrible battle and had seen everyone we loved fall around us. We had held each other and comforted each other, and I had thought we had connected in that time, but, as one of my favorite television personalities would say, I was obviously "dead-ass wrong."

I spent the morning of graduation packing up my room and crying quietly. I thought it was strange that I hadn't cried much in the beginning. In the beginning, there had been outbursts, but the majority of my days had been spent with dry eyes. Now every little thing I picked up to pack reminded me of one of them. A stuffed frog I had named Trevor. A book on love potions from Ginny. The last sweater Mrs. Weasley would ever knit for me. Harry's invisibility cloak. A half-finished essay on human transfiguration I had been proof-reading for Ron. Everything, it seemed, caused my eyes to leak and my nose to drip. I hadn't felt the loss of my friends so acutely until I prepared to leave Hogwarts myself.

Sighing deeply, I picked up my scrapbook. I suppose I was a glutton for punishment because I opened it and began to weep loudly and openly even from the first page: my Hogwarts letter. The following pages included stupid little souvenirs like an advertisement for Olivander's and the price tag that had hung on Crookshanks' cage the day I bought him. I saw pictures of myself with Harry and Ron from every year since the first. Harry's sixteenth birthday party. Celebrating the day they won the Quidditch cup with all three- Harry, Ron, and Ginny on the team. Of course, my high marks were in there as well. Passing by all the glowing reports from McGonagall, I slowed as the pages flipped to the one and only time Snape had written a comment (well, a good one) on my work. I felt the corner of my mouth tilt up as I saw the small "Excellent work" scrawled in the corner by my name. It must have taken him so much effort to write that simple phrase.

Oh, Snape. Snape. What was I going to do about Snape?

Though my mind told me I was perfectly content to hate him, my heart told me otherwise. He really was a good, honorable man when he wasn't being an asshole. And even then, he was still a *good* man even if he wasn't a *nice* man. He had proven his allegiance to the Order and to Dumbledore over and over again, and maybe, I thought optimistically, there was a good reason for his horrible persona. I mean, Harry had told us what he'd seen in Snape's pensieve and maybe episodes like that had scarred him for life.

The theory sounded like bullshit to me, but Muggle psychologists were always going on about unhappy childhoods being the root of all evil. Personally, I didn't buy it. My childhood had been perfect and at the height of my popularity I had had a grand total of two close friends. If unhappy childhoods brought such death and destruction as Muggles would lead you to believe, why, may I ask, does my life suck ass right about now? My parents loved me. I had had everything I wanted without being spoiled. Anytime I was home, I never missed a night telling them I loved them before I went to sleep. My childhood was just about as good as the Bradys, so why was I so depressed?

Drawing my attention back to the book in front of me and gazing down at the spiky writing, I absentmidedly ran my fingers over it and closed my eyes. It suddenly seemed rather silly and childish of me to hate Snape. Well, to hate him any more than I had before this whole mess started. Yes, he had said some pretty hurtful and unprompted things, but, really, had it been so out of character for him? As long as I had known him, Snape had made rude comments and reduced students to tears. Why should he change now?

I suppose I was most hurt because I'd convinced myself I was more than just his student. In those minutes that he'd held me, I had lived out a million and twelve fantasies. I wanted so much to know him, to understand him. I wanted to hold him when he cried and have him reach for me in the middle of the night. I wanted him to want me. That night-morning-whatever it was, I had made myself believe I was something more to him than the bushy-haired, big-toothed, annoyingly know-it-all Gryffindor, and obviously I had been wrong.

But I could not make myself believe that I had really misjudged him that thoroughly. The way he had held me and the way he'd actually laughed in my presence indicated, at least to my way of thinking, that he felt something different, something stronger for me. Besides, I'd never known him to try and apologize to anyone before.

Sighing, I closed my scrapbook and decided I was going to make amends with Snape. Yes, he had hurt me; yes he had pissed me off more than anyone else ever had in my life. But, God, he was sexy, and in some diluted, perverted sense of the word, he was my confidant. I knew I could never leave Hogwarts without saying goodbye to Snape. I loved him. It was as simple as that.

As I made my way down to the dungeons, I noticed how few of the students were inside. It was a very pretty, warm June day, and I could understand why they were all outside, but I could no longer walk the grounds without seeing the bodies that had lain there. For a moment I thought it lucky that I was leaving today, but then, I never really liked Quidditch anyway, so even if I hadn't been graduating tonight I probably wouldn't have had any real excuse to go outside. No reason to go past Hagrid's hut. No reason to see where Ron Weasley had crashed a flying car, and definitely no reason to see the spots where my friends had fallen.

There was a significant drop in temperature as I entered the dungeons and I pulled my robes closer to myself. I briefly wondered if Snape liked it cold and this was an environmental spell or if the stone walls simply made this part of the castle freezing no matter the season. This, however, brought up the question of whether Snape's high-collared, button-up suitre are a precaution against the cold of the dungeons or if he liked the dungeons frigid in order to keep wearing his Batman costume. I mean, teaching robes.

Stopping in front of his door, I stared at it for several moments before raising my hand to knock. What if he slammed the door in my face? What if he rejected me again?

And suddenly I knew what my temper tantrum in potions class had been about. Of course, the majority of it had been the unwarranted insults, but I suddenly was sure his words had hurt me so much because they'd been a cruel rejection of me. His prickish behavior in the classroom had been rejection enough and I'd been crushed, but his insults and torment- they were meant to push me away.

Hermione, you really are a hormonal little girl no matter what face you try to put forward.

Feeling as if my fist weighed a hundred pounds, I slowly brought it down to knock on his door.

One, one-thousand.

Two, one-thousand.

Three, one-thousand.

Oh, well! Looks like he's not here, I'd better just-

DAMMIT!

Snape slowly pulled open the door, clad only in a white dress shirt, untucked and unbuttoned half-way and his signature black pants. His hair was damp and he smelled faintly of soap.

Well, I guess that answered that question. Guess he did bathe occasionally.

Ha! Lavender Brown owed me ten galleons!

Leaning against the door frame, Snape smirked at me and crossed his arms over his chest.

"Miss Granger, to what do I owe this pleasure?" he practically snarled, though there was more than a hint of mockery in his voice.

"I... I..." I stammered. God, he smelled good. And that chest... "I just wanted to apologize." Snape's smirk turned into a self-satisfied smile as he opened the door wider.

"Then, by all means, come in, Hermione."

****

From "Miss Granger" to "Hermione" in ten seconds flat. You're not too transparent, are you Severus?

She entered my quarters and I could tell she was nervous. I grinned a little inside. I guess I still had the touch as far as intimidation went. I offered her a seat and she took it quickly, perching on the edge and nervously fidgeting. I leaned against my desk towetowered over her. Deciding that Bad Snape was just too much fun to give up, I put on my Snapiest voice.

"Well, out with it, girl!"

Great, now she had tears in her eyes. The next time someone asked me why I
was such an asshole, I'd simply explain how much fun it was.

"I... I... Um..."

"T-t-t-t-today, Junior!" I snapped, entirely pleased with my level of sarcasm until
I saw her eyes, bright with tears, shoot up to mine.

"You know, that's not very nice," she declared bossily. "I'm just trying to tell you I'm sorry I disrespected you in class. But you hurt me quite a lot, you know." I had known I'd hurt her. I had done it on purpose, but I was now disgusted with myself hearing her admit it. I had a choice now, I could either continue the safe, proven way of dealing with students (biting wit and sarcasm), or I could apologize to her and hopefully open the channels of communication again.

But I knew the first would not work with Hermione. Besides the fact that I knew sooner or later she'd blow up and tell me to fuck myself again, I just couldn't deal with her like any other student. She wasn't any other student. She was the woman I wanted more than anything in the world. I knew she planned to take the next school year off but had been offered the Charms position for the year after. If I played my cards right, I could actually have a friend for once in my life- maybe more, and if she decided to come back to teach, I could have a colleague I actually liked and could share ideas and debates with.

She wouldn't be too bad to sit next to in staff meetings, either.

"I admit that my words were uncalled for."

Damn. I had opened my mouth with every intention of an apology but had managed only a weak admission.

Hermione gazed up at me with narrowed, distrusting eyes, and I was at once abashed. She may have been young, but I would not bet on anyone's ability to find a woman my own age as intelligent, both in education and common sense.

"That's it?" she asked disbelievingly.

Saw right through that one, then?

"You insulted my friends. My *dead* friends, and all you can say is that it was 'uncalled for?'"

I could almost see the wheels in her head, the struggle of whether to forgive me evident on her face. It was almost scary to watch her think- almost like a bad accident on the Quidditch pitch. You don't want to look, but you can't tear your eyes away.

"Hermione."

Oh God. Vocal cords working of their own accord.

"I... I'm... I apologize." There, was that so hard? "I should not have said the
things I did. They were meant to hurt you, and I'm sorry." Hermione was still looking up at me, but she softened somewhat. It didn't take long before I was looking quite inappropriately at her lips.

"Thank you, Professor Snape. I'm glad I came to talk to you. I'm glad I didn't leave hating you."

She had hated me? Wow. I had never heard Hermione use the word 'hate' in
reference to anything other Malfoy, Trelawney, or lima beans.

"It's just that," she continued, her voice shaky and apparently on the verge of tears yet again (must look into an anti-crying potion. I cannot deal with one more set of soaked robes). "After... you know... when... when we were... in the Great Hall..."

I was suddenly sure my fate was sealed. She hated me. I had taken advantage of the situation when I had held her. I had taken too much liberty.

"I just kind of thought we would become closer after that night," mumbled Hermione, her face now red with embarassment and nerves.

I looked at her in shock, and if my whole body hadn't been numb after that revelation, my jaw would have dropped. Nervously, Hermione stood and closed the distance between us. Looking into my eyes, she tentatively took my hand. I felt panic rise in my chest and an overwhelming sense of disbelief swept over me. She can't... She doesn't want me. She's just emotional. She's been traumatized. She's been through too much and it just happened to be me there with her that morning.

"It hurt me a lot that you didn't talk to me for those couple of days afterward and that you acted like nothing had happened when classes started again. I mean, I didn't expect you to want to have slumber parties or anything-"

Well, she was wrong about that.

"-but I know we have something in common that no one else in the world does, and I thought, especially since I was almost out of school, you'd maybe want to be my friend." As she finished, she looked up into my eyes quite innocently and, I'm still not sure if it was intentional or not, licked her lips.

I don't know if there was something in my eyes that gave me away or if she was simply in need of a comfort of which she was completely naive, but she moved closer to me and, dropping my hand, placed hers on my hips. Instinctively, I reached for her and held her close, not protectively as I had before, but as a man holds a woman, her hips close against mine, almost posessively so. She smiled shyly and without any thought at all, I bent to kiss her.

Her lips were soft and I felt her soft sigh as I brushed against her. She kissed me back, sweetly but intently, and I squeezed my eyes shut, hoping that if this was a dream I would never wake. I felt her tiny hands on the back of my neck and entwining in my hair as one of my hands cupped her face, the other pulling her closer into me. She shivered and moaned into my mouth as she felt exactly how aroused I was, and I could feel her smile through the kiss.Taking the opportunity to slide my tongue into her mouth, I began to kiss her passionately and she returned it with fervor. She sighed again and rubbed against me shamelessly. One of her hands ran down my neck to rest on my chest, the area left naked by the unbuttoned shirt, and I covered hers with my own, feeling my heart thud under them, as I kissed her deeply. Suddenly, I felt her other hand slide around my neck and down my chest. But it didn't stop. That precious hand slid lower and lower until...

I intercepted it and broke our kiss.

I panicked.

This could not be happening. Hermione Granger did not want me. She was
little more than a child, and I was a bad, bad man. I had done things she could never have even imagined. Not that that meant I was good at them. I had never had a willing partner, my only experience coming as result of the many rapes I had carried out on Voldemort's orders. I could not- would not- let her throw herself away on me. I could not bear the thought of my ugly, unskilled body deflowering her in any sense of the word. It was bad enough what I had already subjected her to.

"Hermione, we can't do this, " I managed to gasp even though her lips were again seeking mine out. "You're my student."

"Not anymore." She caught my lips briefly, but as I wrenched them away from her, she began to nibble on my neck.

"You are a student at Hogwarts." Oh, God! She was now licking up and down my ear.

"Not after tonight," she whispered huskily into the ear that was now so exquisitely sensitized by her tongue.

"Hermione." I pulled away from her and, holding her at arm's length, glared into her eyes.

"Severus." She was sizing me up, looking to see if my issue was with her status as a student or with her as a woman. Please, Hermione. Please understand.

"Hermione, I will not do this."

"Why not?" She was trying desperately to hold onto her sexual bravado, but I saw the faintest quiver of her bottom lip; her eyes became shiny but not quite tearful yet. She gazed at me intently with those big doe eyes, suddenly seeming every bit seventeen years old and vulnerable.

"Hermione."

"Don't you want me?" she whimpered, barely audible. Oh, God, yes! I want you more than anything in the world, Hermione! But I can't have you. You would never have me if you knew all I'd done and all I am.

The tears were there in her eyes now, but she would not blink them away. Her lip quivered visibly, and I hated myself for doing this to her. Why would it be so bad to give in? Why shouldn't I take her? She DOES want you, Severus. Don't fuck it up again! Take her, she wants you. Besides, how can there be hard feelings if she leaves tomorrow on that shiny red train? If she hates you you never have to see her again and you can get off in the process!

Do it.

Take her.

"Don't you?" she asked again, so quietly it sounded as if it hurt her to talk at all.

"That is not the issue," I growled, a mix of violence and desire evident in my voice. She picked up on the desire and tried to embrace me again, but I pushed her aside and turned my back on her.

"Severus-"

"Leave, Hermione."

Please. Don't let me hurt you any more.

"But-"

"Get out of here."

Please don't hurt me any more.

"I-"

"Hermione Granger, GET OUT OF MY SIGHT!"


*********A/N***********
Ten house points to anyone who knows which of MY favorite TV personalities says "dead-ass wrong!" Unless you're in Hufflepuff. Hufflepuffs shall be flogged.

Thank you:
Flick: See, I didn't even make you wait a whole week. But, again, I reiterate: the wait for chapters is probably (maybe) going ot get longer. I hope you liked this one!

Deb: Thank YOU for reading and reviewing! I'm SO glad you like it and I hope I do not disappoint!

deblovesdragon: Yes, it is a bummer that almost everyone is dead, but it IS a war... Besides, I'm not sure the killing has ended. You'll have to wait and see. Hope I wrote Hermione approaching Severus in way you COULD see. Thank you so much for reviewing!

HERMIONANDSEREUS4EVA!: Nice name...;) Thanks for reviewing- I'm glad you like it! It's fun to write, so I hope it's as fun to read!

Bree: Thank you for your awesome reviews, and as long as you review it, I'll write your name at the bottom of my story 'til the cows come home!

star no star: Umm... okay... you DO know I was JOKING about the fart joke chapter, right? Thank you once again for reviewing. You don't know how much the reviews inspire me (though in the case of your last review, they inspire me to not read my reviews at four AM when I cannot giggle out loud for fear of waking someone!) Thanks!!!!

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XxphoenixX: Thank you! Yes, I got a tad too excited writing Hermione's speech. Shoulda proof-read, but I am now too addicted to reviews to worry. Beta? I don't need no stinking beta! Just kidding! I know a lot of time passed, but you'll have to trust me for now when I say this is a far cry from over. I mean, I think I got, like, thirty more chapters sketched out. So don't think Sev and Hermy are out of the woods just yet!

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BTW, waiting PATIENTLY for Strong Enough...

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