Bittersweet

IV.


Snape’s smirk softened into a warm smile. He looked almost handsome, in a way…


“Follow me.”


And follow that tall, devastatingly sexy man Hermione did. Why? Why NOT follow that arse! Any female with a clue certainly would. Hermione followed that arse right down to the dungeons, each footstep guided by her baser instincts and the occasional lusty looks Snape would turn his head to make at her every few meters. By the time the two of them reached Snape’s chambers (miraculously unseen by any other teacher, student, or portrait), Hermione and Snape had become fiercely eager to finish what they’d started in the corridor.


With a quick slam and warding of the door, the soon-to-be-lovers threw themselves at each other, lips colliding and tongues moving sensuously together. What little room there was between their bodies was quickly shrinking, their bodies being pulled together as if by outside force. This notion was the first to bring Snape back to reality. Reluctantly, he pulled away from a confused-looking Hermione and held her as far from himself as he could.


“Miss Granger--” he began.


“Hermione. Please.”


Snape stiffened and dropped his hands from Hermione’s shoulders. “Miss Granger. I don’t know what’s come over me, but I would not normally allow myself to even think of touching a student in such a manner as I have you!” There, a sense of morality!


Hermione’s frustration grew to its peak. Her hair seemed to electrify and come to life about her flushed cheeks. Snape’s eyes followed the curve of her tongue as she licked her lips before she said, “Professor Snape… Severus… Please. I want you.”


At this (now obvious) confession, Snape shivered. She wanted him! Him, the Greasy Git, the Big Black Bat of the Bottomless Dungeon. Her teacher. ‘Right, right. Must cease and desist any activities which could potentially have me sacked!’


“Miss Granger, please, keep away from me! This is not right. I am your teacher, you must remember that!” This did not seem to deter Hermione in the least, for she kept coming at Snape, the look in her eyes showing that she meant to devour him. That feral look… That wasn’t the Hermione Granger that Snape knew.


“MISS GRANGER! You are clearly under the effects of a lust potion of some kind!” Allowing himself to take her arm and guide her to a chair, Snape moved to sit before her so he could examine her fully.


Hermione’s eyes looked a bit glazed over with not only the standard constant lust that befell hormonal teenagers, but with a lust induced by magic. Her normally brown eyes were flecked with unnaturally bright green sparkles among her pupils. No, this certainly wasn’t normal.


Because it would not do for Albus Dumbledore to discover Hermione in his private rooms, Snape hurried a dazed Hermione (who was still attempting to paw at the multitude of buttons on Snape’s shirt) out into the corridor and toward the Headmaster’s office. Albus would know what to do. Hopefully.




“… And when I finally came fully to my senses, Miss Granger and myself were in my rooms, quite nearly engaged in a very inappropriate manner,” Snape explained to Dumbledore, who had lost the twinkle in his blue eyes the moment that Snape began speaking. This was a grave situation, indeed.


Dumbledore nodded solemnly, and with a snap of his fingers, a door to his left appeared in the wall to welcome in a house elf.


“Twinkie, take Miss Granger to Madam Pomfrey. She will likely know how to help the poor girl.” As soon as Twinkie had left with Hermione, Dumbledore turned his attention back to Snape. “As for you, Severus… I am not amused.”


“Albus, those actions were not--” Snape started. Dumbledore cut him off with a raise of his hand.


“Severus, I understand that you were under the influence of a stray spell. News traveled quickly through the castle of Mr. Weasley’s serious actions. Due to the weightiness of the situation, I was bound to find out sometime,” Dumbledore said.


“Bloody portraits…” Snape muttered.


“Now, Severus, you know better than to say that… After all, I believe a few of them are your ancestors.”


“Thank you for that unpleasant reminder, Albus.”


“You’re quite welcome,” Dumbledore chuckled. He turned serious again. “I must ask you now, Severus, if you feel any unusual feelings toward Miss Granger such as love, lust, or something equally inappropriate.” At seeing the suspicion on Snape’s face, he continued, “I am not seeking to punish you for something you have no control over, my dear boy! I am merely trying to help you.”


“I am sure whatever the idiot boy Weasley did will eventually wear off. His magic is weak enough that the effects cannot be permanent. Of this, I am sure,” Snape spoke firmly. “In fact, I have felt the effects of the spell weaken from the initial casting.”


Dumbledore perked up. “Oh? And what were these initial effects?”


Snape shifted uncomfortably in his seat. “The moment I saw Miss Granger after having the spell cast on me, I felt an extreme leap in my heart. In spite of my abhorrence of that awful cliché, I believe,” he spat, “that I fell in love ‘at first sight’ with Miss Granger.” Snape paused, and then almost whispered, “I am still under the impression that I love her, though not as much as I first did.”


Dumbledore paled. He had not realized how serious this was. “Severus, please tell me. What exact words did Mr. Weasley inadvertently use?”


“He said Amordestino.”


“Oh dear…”


Severus raised a hand to cover his face, making a slow rubbing motion over his forehead. “Explain what you mean by ‘Oh dear’, Albus.”


Dumbledore cleared his throat delicately, paused, then said, “There is only one other instance that I know of in which this spell has been performed. From what I can remember, and that is less than you might think, the spell affected both parties involved. This means that not only were you affected, because you were hit with the spell, but by falling in love with Hermione caused the spell to affect her in a similar way.”


“So I suppose you’ll say it is my fault that Miss Granger attempted to have her way with me?”


“Yes, of course! Had you only fallen in love with Harry Potter, things would have been so much easier…”


Snape frowned. Dumbledore was twinkling again. “I’ve never known you to joke with such serious subjects, sir.”


The old wizard sobered. “I am sorry.” He turned in his chair to face Fawkes’ perch, which was next to the Headmaster’s desk. “I suppose I should also tell you that you should be fine in a week or so.”


“Thank Merlin for small favors.” This would put Snape at an inconvenience, yes, but not as bad a one as he had originally thought. Now eager to return to his chambers, Snape stood from his seat and started inching in the directly of the door.


“You’d ought to be going, Severus. I wouldn’t want for something to happen in the dungeons whilst I had you detained up here in my office.” That bloody twinkle… Professor Dumbledore knew Snape too well.


“Thank you, Headmaster.”


“You’re welcome, boy. I will see you at dinner, yes?”


Snape sighed, exasperated. “But of course!”


And with that, Snape glided out of the room, his black robes billowing behind him.


Dumbledore chuckled. “What a drama queen…”




“Are you sure you’re all right now, Miss Granger?” Madam Pomfrey was hovering eagerly over Hermione, who was sprawled out over one of the beds in the infirmary.


“Yes, Madam Pomfrey, I’m fine! Please, I have so much work to do…”


“Well, all right. I’ll let you go. But promise me that you’ll come back after dinner for a quick checkup!”


Hermione nodded and left as quick as she could. She really didn’t like hospitals and infirmaries. They gave her goose pimples. She must have had a traumatic experience in one when she was little. ‘But that’s neither here nor there,’ Hermione thought.


Hermione was so eager to return to her studies that she didn’t even realize the effects that Snape had held over her, nor did she realize how quickly she had returned back to her previous state after being removed from his presence. She didn’t even realize that she’d damn near shagged her teacher until that evening at dinner, where Harry and Ron pointed out that Snape was not present at the High Table.


Hermione’s eyes widened when she remembered what had occurred. She’d kissed Sev--SNAPE! The greasy git, the Potions Master, her teacher! Oh, this wasn’t good… She glanced up at Dumbledore and was surprised to see that he was staring right back at her with a slight frown on his face. ‘Shite, he knows!’ Hermione thought anxiously.


Picking up her fork and knife, Hermione pretended to eat her food, thought she was only pushing it around on her plate. How could she eat when the butterflies in her stomach were fluttering so violently?


A few minutes passed before she heard a voice behind her say, “Are you quite finished playing with your food, Miss Granger?”


Turning around, Hermione saw Dumbledore waiting for her. Wincing at his foreboding expression, she tried gracefully to rise from the bench, but her foot caught. Stumbling out of her seat, Hermione managed to avoid hitting Dumbledore, who merely motioned for her to follow him out into the corridor.


Once they were out of the hearing range of the suit of armor standing guard outside the door to the Great Hall, the Headmaster laid his hand on Hermione’s arm to stop her.


“Miss Granger, I have been informed that you came under the control of the Amordestino spell. Is this correct?”


She gulped. “No, sir. It was Professor Snape that Ron managed to hit. Professor Snape jumped in the way of the curse.”


Dumbledore’s eyes widened momentarily, then returned to their normal state. “He jumped in the way of the curse? Was it headed in your direction?”


Hermione thought back to what had happened. “Actually, no. Ron had aimed at Harry, hoping to ruin any caring feelings Harry had for Ginny. Professor Snape thought that he meant to say Amordesino.”


“Professor Snape is likely right on that count. I will not deny that Mr. Weasley’s knowledge of this spell is distressing to me. I would never have thought that a son of Molly Weasley would ever dislike a person enough to perform it.” The old wizard leaned against the nearest wall looking somewhat dumbfounded. “Miss Granger, do you know what would have happened if Ronald Weasley had correctly performed the Amordesino?”


“Harry would have fallen out of love with Ginny.”


Dumbledore gave a grim smile. “More than that. Harry would have lost any emotional feeling he had toward Miss Weasley, even that of mere friendship. The spell is meant to sever all emotional ties between the two people, including any feelings Miss Weasley had toward Harry.”


Hermione gasped, catching on. “So what Ron ended up saying… Amordestino… He just tweaked the original spell a bit?”


The wizened wizard nodded gravely.


“Then,” she continued, “the new spell would force emotional feeling between the person the spell was cast on and someone else?”


“I’m afraid so, child.”


“Do you think the spell would always force love?” Hermione nibbled on her lip.


“Yes, I believe it would. The original spell, after all, was mainly intended to end any love existing between two people.”


“Two people… Oh! Oh, no…”


“You’ve come to realize your part in this, Miss Granger?”


Hermione looked down at the stone floor in front of her and nodded. Dumbledore came away from the wall and walked forward to rest a hand on the young Gryffindor witch’s shoulder.


“Then I must ask you to try and stay away from Professor Snape as best you can for the next week. I shall let him know that you will not attend Potions. I feel that would be too great a risk to take.”


“But, my marks--”


“--Will not suffer. You shall be given a set of notes through Harry who will obtain them from Professor Snape.” Upon seeing the look on Hermione’s face, he continued, “It is not an inconvenience to Severus. He has notes on all of his lessons written up for any student that misses a class. Surely you knew this?”


Hermione laughed bitterly. “He’s never made this fact known to the Gryffindors, Professor Dumbledore.”


Dumbledore backed away as if to reenter the Great Hall. Before turning, he looked down at Hermione’s face.

“Miss Granger, you should know that although Professor Snape’s prejudices are unfair, they are not unjust, though he should not have kept them for this long,” he explained. “In school, Severus was bullied most by the Gryffindors. The next largest group of tormentors were from his own house, but he could not retaliate. Thusly, he has maintained his ill nature toward Gryffindor House for years. Any man forced to endure what he has endured needs an outlet.” Dumbledore looked over his shoulder at the suit of armor who was clearly straining to listen in on the conversation. He leaned forward. “Do not think that he is completely excused for his indiscretions, Miss Granger. He suffers in ways that I will never know.”


Hermione paled at this. It was true: Snape felt justified in hating the Gryffindors because of what they must have done to him while he was in school. Snape was repeatedly punished by the Death Eaters, among them his tormentors from school, but only did so for the good of the Order! What a life he was forced to live…


“Think on what I have said, Hermione.”


She looked up, surprised to hear her first name. “Of course, Professor Dumbledore.”


A warning glance overcame the wizard’s features.


“Take care.”




“’Mione, are you sure you’re okay?” Harry looked more worried than usual.


“Honestly, Harry! I’m fine.”


Ron cut in, “Then why did Dumbledore pull you out of the Great Hall for a private conversation, if not for something horrible?”


Hermione thought to herself for a moment, debating whether or not she could sincerely trust her two best friends to keep her secret. Deciding they could, she pulled them close and whispered, “Come with me. I need to tell you both something.”


Following Hermione through the corridors, the boys kept shooting glances at each other, both anxious to hear the news uneasy about what it might be. Finally the Trio arrived at the Room of Requirement, performed the necessary rituals, and entered.


“Please, Hermione. I’m dying to know what’s going on!” Ron exclaimed.


Hermione’s hands twisted and pulled at each other of their own accord. “It’s horrible. Remember, Ron, the spell that you tried to cast on Harry in Potions?”


“The one that ended up hitting Snape? Yeah! I’ve still got detention for that, the greasy git…”


“Ron!” Hermione cried. “You aren’t helping!”


Ron had the decency to blush at his minor outburst. “Sorry, ‘Mione…”


“Please, just… don’t say that in front of me anymore. He’s part of the problem.”


Harry’s eyebrows crept high above his brow line and toward his hair. “What’s Snape done?”


Hermione glared over at Ron and began, “Because of this prat and his bloody spell, Snape and I have been forced into loving one another.” Here, she ignored the gasps from her friends and went on to describe how Ron’s defective spell had affected the two victims.


Harry came out of his stupor long enough to ask, “And you’ll be fine in a week, give or take a day or two?”


The Gryffindor witch sighed. “Hopefully. I don’t think I can stand to miss class for much longer than that.” Ron’s grimace prompted her to add, “I don’t want to fall behind in Potions, after all.”


“As if you could,” Ron snorted.


“Oh hush, you!” Hermione said, finally smiling a bit.


Ron smiled back for a moment. “Honestly, Hermione. This is just bloody weird. You and Snape? Harry and I were talking about this just the other day, how similar your personalities were… But actually falling in love? We didn’t think that would ever happen while you were still here at Hogwarts.”


Harry shot Ron an exasperated look. “She didn’t exactly ask to fall in love with Snape. It’s only because of your stupid spell that she feels anything other than the respect that she had before! Do you honestly think she would have fallen for Snape otherwise?”


“Although your point is good, Snape is practically the poster boy for Hermione’s type! I’ll admit that he’s smart and has that dark sort of mystery that made her like Krum. Hell, he’s even got a nose like Krum!”


“Will you two stop talking about me as if I’m not here?” Hermione protested. “And I do NOT have a type!”


Harry grinned at this. “You can’t deny that you like the dark, broody type, ‘Mione. Krum wasn’t the only one, either!”


A pink tint flushed over her cheeks. “Harry! You promised not to mention that!”


“WHAT?” Ron yelled. “Who? Which brooding idiot was it?”


Harry smirked. “Zabini.”


For some reason, Ron relaxed at this. “Oh. Zabini. It could have been worse.”


“He isn’t broody! Dark and intelligent, maybe, but definitely not broody!” Hermione interjected.


“Yes, he is,” Ron returned. “So it’s been established: Hermione has a type, and Snape falls soundly into it!”


“I never thought I’d see the day when you and I would be able to pinpoint her with something like this,” Harry said, shaking his head.


During all of this, Hermione was looking about the room, her face full of frustration, and then stopped suddenly. Closing her eyes and wrinkling her nose a bit, she was delighted to open her eyes again and spot a large, comfortable overstuffed leather chair in front of her. Taking a seat, she tuned back into her friends’ conversation.


“… But can you blame him?” Ron was saying.


“Blame who?” Hermione queried.


Ignoring Ron’s look of protest, Harry answered, “Snape. For falling in love with you. And I can’t blame him, either, as it was Ron’s fault.”


Hermione pouted a bit.


Harry chuckled. “Hermione, you must know you’re pretty. Hasn’t your mirror said anything about how you’ve blossomed into a young lady recently?” A smirk crept over his face as he spoke.


Hermione blushed. “Harry! You know I charmed my mirror to keep it from speaking. It was saying the most horrible things…”


“And when did you charm it?”


“The beginning of the school year.”


“There’s your problem. You’ve only recently become gorgeous, you know.”


“Oh, thanks Harry! You’re positively Slytherin.”


Harry wiggled his eyebrows. “Does that help win you over?”


She giggled. “Sorry, Harry. No luck.”


“Guys? Hello? Weren’t we talking about something important, here?” Ron said, distressed.


“Oh, right. Well, Hermione, we’ll help keep you as far from Snape as we can so you can avoid jumping him again. Does that help?”


“Yes, Harry. Thanks. Do you think we could keep this amongst ourselves, too? Er… At least no one else needs to know that I practically molested Professor Snape, or anything…”


Harry grinned, “Sure thing.”


Suddenly, a gentle growling came from Ron’s stomach. “Time for food!”


“You two go on ahead, I’ll catch up,” Hermione smiled. They looked skeptical for a moment. “Seriously! I’ll be there in a few minutes.”


“All right. See you in a few minutes, then.”


Once the boys had trooped out the door to the Room of Requirement, Hermione squinted and transformed her chair into a large, canopied bed. Sprawling herself over it, she gazed up at the ceiling, pondering her situation.


Her feelings for Professor Snape had really come up on her much too fast to be realistic, now that she thought back upon it. How had she let her emotions get so far away from her? There was nothing remarkable about Professor Snape as a person. He was still the same greasy-haired gruff professor that she’d had since she was eleven years old. Surely this spell had to be dark magic, for Hermione would never have known that she was affected had she not had her talk with Dumbledore earlier that day.


Severus… What a mystery he was. And yet, Hermione had never felt as if she knew anyone as well as him. Shaking herself, she was reminded that there was no way this could be possible. How could she know Sev--Professor Snape better than Harry or Ron? Absurd. Clearly, the spell was still affecting her strongly.


It was lucky for Hermione that the spell would fade in a week, after which there would be no more crazed, lusty obsession about Professor Snape. She wished desperately that this would be so.


Funny thing… Severus was hoping the same thing, too.

-----

Author’s Notes: A bit longer chapter, there. Only a couple more and then this will be a completed story… And it’ll end the way I say it will! Ha! There’s no point in trying to convince me now. I’ve even had dreams about this story, which shows how pathetic I really am. Blah blah blah, thanks SO much for all your reviews (continue, continue!), I’m glad you read my story up to this point and I hope I don’t disappoint anyone too much when it ends… :/


By the way (not really)… Happy November!