Understanding

All Harry Potter belongs to JK Rowling. All song lyrics and titles belong to Evanescence.


Understanding
Chapter Five:
Everybody's Fool

****Without the mask where will you hide?
Can't find yourself lost in your lie
I know the truth now
I know who you are
And I don't love you anymore
It never was and never will be
You don't know how you've betrayed me
And somehow now you're everybody's fool****


I ran from the dungeons as fast as I could, sobbing and gasping for air. As soon as I got to my room I locked myself inside and placed the most powerful silencing spell I knew.

Fuck graduation.

Fuck seeing my parents. They could wait to see me until the Hogwarts Express dropped me off the next day.

I was never leaving this room again until I could be sure I would not see, sense, or even hear mention the name of Severus Snape.

Oh my God. I had thrown myself at Snape. And he had pushed me away.

More like shoved.

Down a rock-encrusted hill.

Into a pile of horse shit.

That was rife with snakes.

Slimy, greasy, Slytherin snakes.

amn,amn, I hate Slytherins.

Wailing and moaning loudly, I lay down on my bed and buried my head in between two pillows. I didn't know what was worse, Snape not wanting me or the embarassment I was feeling now over my impulsive behavior. I hadn't really planned on that happening. I had never intended to hit on him. In fact, in an hour's time I had gone from hating him to wanting him to hating him AND wanting him.

But he hadn't wanted me. I was crushed beyond recognition at that thought. Snape, the man who, by all popular thought, was the least shaggable man at Hogwarts, thought I was unshaggable. What kind of a fucking troll was I that he had done that? How fucking low on the fuck chain am I?

I ran over the list of possible reasons in my head, each one depressing me more than the last. I was too young. I had bad hair. I had bad teeth. I was too fat. Or maybe he liked fat chicks and I was too skinny. Maybe he liked prissy ballerina types and I was too muscular and athletic. I couldn't see that being the case, but if I had learned one thing from Snape it was that I didn't know him at all.

Maybe I was too short. Maybe I was a bad kisser. Maybe my boobs were too small. Or too large. I don't know, I'd always thought they were just about right. Then again, thereneren't really for me to appreciate. I mean, I guess they could have been, but I didn't really think that sort of thing would float my boat.

Good God. What the hell had happened? I had only gone down there to apologize; how had it ended up with me very nearly losing my virginity? At least, that was what I imagined would have happened if he'd kept doing what he'd started.

What he'd started...

I sat bolt-upright in my bed, my eyes suddenly and shockingly dry, and gasped.

HE had started it!

HE had kissed ME!

I felt my insides begin to boil as I realized this was all his fault. HE had kissed me; HE had stuck his tongue down my throat, and HE had pulled me so close to him I could practically feel the outline of his underwear!

FUCKING BASTARD!

How dare he do that to me and then cast me aside? How fucking dare he? I had half a mind
to storm back down to the dungeons and tell him where he could stick that raging hard-on he'd been so keen to let me know about earlier.

But I wouldn't. Once again, Hermione Granger, seventeen, would be the adult while Severus Snape, forty, nursed his broken heart or whatever it was he was brooding over.

He was lucky it wasn't a broken dick.

Snarling, I sat on my bed, unconciously pulling my pillow into tiny bits of fluff. I was angry
now. Scratch that- I was fucking furious! He had wanted me, and he had known I had wanted him, so what was the big fucking deal? Why had he treated me like I was the least favorable thing he'd ever encountered in life? It couldn't be an issue of age. I knew Snape wouldn't develop new morals overnight especially when he could be following his dick to greener pastures.

Or any pastures at all, knowing Snape. I I needed to get back at him. Or fuck him. Either way, I could not leave Hogwarts hating I I thought I had gone down there this morning to prevent the uncomfortable feelings I was having now. Well, at least some of the uncomfortable feelings should have been dealt with this morning. I couldn't help it that the new bad feelings were magnifying the previous ones. I couldn't leave hating him, I was still in love with him, no matter how I tried to dissuade myself of the fact, and if I did leave without squaring things, I would only regret it and go over it again and again in my head until I drove myself insane.

Not that that was far from happening already. The logical Hermione Granger was quite dumbfounded with the new emotional one; I was beginning to thin mys myself in the form of two separate people. I was crying at odd intervals, raging at nothing in particular, and depressed and morose for days at a time. The old Hermione would have told me to snap out of it a long time ago. The old Hermione would not have allowed things to progress this far. True, she probably would have ignored the conflict entirely, but at least she wouldn't have had to deal with any of these shitty emotions. The old Hermione would have gotten over herself. The new Hermione had absolutely no de to to do anything of the sort. It was if feeling so awful was the only thing reminding me that I was alive, and alive was something I convinced myself I had to be happy to be. Too many people I loved were not alive now, and I could not be so selfish as to wish death on myself when they had had absolutely no choice in their own demises.

But Snape continued to run rampant through my brain, and I flopped over on my bed again, at once emotionally exhausted. Why Snape, Hermione? Of all people- of all men- you had to pick the most arrogant, stubborn, sarcastic jackass of all. I knew it wasn't entirely my fault that I was so enamored with Snape. Fate or circumstance or whatever you wanted to call it had thrown us together, and I guess even at seventeen my biological clock was ticking and I could simply wait no longer to have a man bed me. At least, my body was *trying* to get me to listen to its insane requests to fuck the greasy Potions Master. Right now, though I knew he was damn sexy and I did still have acruch on him, I didn't think I'd ever lay a hand on him again. He'd hurt me too badly. Again.

But maybe... Maybe my body had the right idea...

A light bulb flashed in my head, and suddenly I was very eager to attend graduation and very, very eager to borrow one of Lavender's very, very, very low cut dress robes. Glancing at my watch, I gaped realizing I had only two hours before the cermeony was to start. If my half-hatched plan was to work, I would have to get a move on now! I hastily collected Lavender from the common room and demanded the world's fastest makeover. She only smiled and said she was glad seven years of badgering had finally paid off and I finally wanted to look like a girl.

Yeah, okay. You win, Lavender. Whatever. Just make me sexy and leave me alone.

And that is exactly what she did. One hour, several charms, and one tight, low-cut dress
later, I was ready to face Snape. My plan was to corner him afterward and either have my way with him or hex him sexless. Thin line between love and hate, and all that.

I was a bit excited and anxious so I decided to go to the Great Hall early and see if Professor
McGonagall needed any help with the preparations. As usual, she was glad for my help ("You're the only one who ever takes any initiative, Hermione.") and put me to work immediately. I busied myself for the entire remaining hour, humming happily to myself and practically flitting from task to task. I had no reason to, so I did not return to my room before the ceremony.

Consequently, I never saw the small owl tapping insistently and repeatedly on my window.

****

I have said it before, and I am quite sure I will say it again.

I am a complete and utter fuck-up.

I, Severus Snape, had faced Voldemort and his Death Eaters without a single qualm, and I was scared shitless of Hermione Granger. That tiny little girl had destroyed my resolve more assuredly than any evil I had ever encountered.

I closed my eyes on the immense self-hatred flooding over me, and I forced myself to think of her . God, she was beautiful. Her skin was so flawless (except when I made her cry, of course), her eyes so alert and bright. She had the cutest, most perfectly formed lips which had tasted so good under mine. In fact, the experience of her mouth in general had been astonishing. She had been sweet and soft and giving. And she had wanted me. She had wanted me and I had pushed her away.

Again, I reiterate, I am a complete and utter fuck-up.

I had convinced myself she didn't want me, but even a minute after she left, I was battling with myself to go after her. Of course she had wanted me. One generally doesn't try to grab another's crotch if she doesn't like him. How could I have been so ridiculously self-involved to think she didn't like what I was doing? Besides being a perfectly willing participant in our kiss, I had almost physically felt the arousal coming off her. I had almost smelled how wet she was. She had wanted me very badly, maybe even rivaling how badly I wanted her.

And I had left us both unsatisfied.

God, I SUCK!

My mind kept showing me her face as I'd rejected her, her lip quivering, and I kept pushing the image away in favor of much more appealing, much more imaginary images.

At first, they were innocent enough. Hermione in my arms, asleep against me again. But thoughts of sleep brought up thoughts of bed, and thoughts of bed brought up different thoughts all together. Soon in my innocent thoughts, she was kissing me. Soon in my increasingly-less-innocent thoughts she was curled up against me, rubbing sweetly against me. Soon in my not-even-close-to-innocent-anymore thoughts, her little hand had found its way to the destination I had not allowed it to access earlier.

I will not jack off to a student.

I will not jack off to a student.

I will not- oh, dammit, there I go.

My fantasy became more complex and she was working me expertly. Everytime I was on the edge she pulled back and tried something different. I imagined her exquisite mouth on me and then, just as suddenly, I imagined myself inside her.

I moaned aloud at the perceived sensation and felt my release speeding ahead. Without
knowing it, I began whimpering her name, begging her to finish, and racing to the conclusion. My voice became louder and more insistent.

"HERMIONE!"

I came with a flourish and was bucking off the chair. Gasping for air, I lowered myself and collapsed, suddenly exhausted. I closed my eyes, litey sey seeing stars and decided a leisurely afternoon basking in afterglow was in order.

And through the rush of blood in my ears, I heard a loud, angry knock.

Oh shit!

Oh God!

Oh no!

The knock sounded again, though my head was clear enough now that I could tell it was at the window and not at the door. Thank God! It wasn't Dumbledore ready to fire me for having inappropriate contact with a student. It was not Hermione come to kill me for what I'd done to her. Or worse, to cry about what I'd done to her. It was just as bloody owl.

Cursing the bird's persistence, I hastily wiped my hands and zipped my pants. So much for afterglow...

Hurrying to the window, I opened it and pulled the letter from the bird's beak.

"Don't even think about it," I snapped as the stupid thing sqwaked at me, demanding a treat. I
raised my hand to threaten it, and it flew off promptly, squeaking and I'm sure cursing me in its own bird way.

The letter was on a vaguely familiar type aperaper, though I struggled to place it. The seal on the back was familiar, however. The seal of the Order of the Phoenix.

Great. Probably another gala Tonks was throwing to celebrate the end of the war.

Reading the scroll, I felt my world crash around me.

Oh fuck.

Hermione.


*****************A/N*********************
Thank you to all who reviewed the last chapter, but I am more than a bit discouraged that there were so few. I don't think I can continue whoring myself for reviews like this; it is most exhausting!
And NO ONE knew that the greatest sports entertainment announcer ever to live, WWE Raw's Jim "JR" Ross says "dead-ass wrong?" I'm sad. If you don't watch WWE, do yourself a favor and watch it- it is human drama at its most basic.
*hops off soap box*

deblovesdragon: THANK YOU SO MUCH FOR YOUR REVIEW! I hope this is soon enough, and I hope you liked it. The reason why this story is nowhere near the end and why they will not have to meet up again in the future is coming in the next 2-3 chapters, I think. But they may be slow coming if reviews keep ng sng slowly. I'm being pissy about it right now...

Deb: THANK YOU FOR REVIEWING! I'm glad you get so into stories! I do, too (I've called GrrArrg evil at least twice). I hope you liked it and are not disappointed!

star no star: THANKS!!! Thank Lincoln for me, too, will ya? I'm sure he's enjoying it as well! And just for you, I have a new desire to sneak at least one fart joke in here for you somewhere! Keep reading! No really. Keep reading. I shall die if you stop...

GrrArrg: You can give yourself a hell yeah! But don't start talking about yourself in third person like the Rock. Yeah, I'd love to chat sometime, but if you think I'm gonna tell you what happens before you update Strong Enough, you are sorely mistaken. If reviews keep not getting posted, though, I may have to just start e-mailing chapters to my faithful until more people demand it! I am incredibly pissy right now, sorry. Christmas spirit, you know?
Oh, looks like I have the astrological skill of Sybil Trelawney! I am a Gemini, so I guess the whole things-in-common thing has nothing to do with birthdays. But anyway, glad you liked it, hope you like more, and hope you tell all your friends to read and review. I told mine, but they live in my head and don't get out much!