Bittersweet

“In three words I can sum up everything I’ve learned about life: it goes on.” - Robert Frost


V.


After about a half an hour or so of lazing about in the Room of Requirement, Hermione began to feel extreme hunger pangs and forced herself to leave the comfortable bed. Walking as slowly as she felt possible, Hermione avoided the infirmary as long as possible before entering just after three Hufflepuffs who had singed eyebrows and shocked looks upon their faces.


‘I hope I can get this taken care of quickly,’ Hermione thought to herself anxiously. Waiting patiently while Madam Pomfrey took care of the three dim-witted students, Hermione moved forward to speed along the process.


“Thank you for remembering to return, Miss Granger,” Madam Pomfrey said with a smile. Quickly taking her wand into her hand and casting the necessary diagnostic spells, she discovered that Hermione was in good health and showed no clear effects of the spell. Madam Pomfrey was forced to admit that Hermione was well enough to survive the night back in her own chambers.


As Hermione drew nearer to the Gryffindor Common Room, her thoughts began to return to the older, dark professor and the spell that had somehow bound their emotions to one another. There was no present physical or magical evidence that she was currently under the effects of the spell, so then why were her thoughts of Professor Snape still inappropriate and so unladylike? The spell (or was it a curse?) was projected to last another week, so the disappearance of all of its traces from her system made Hermione curious. Perhaps she was making a bigger deal of it than it was. Madam Pomfrey could make mistakes, after all. No one was capable of being perfect. Not even Hermione Granger.


*****


The next few days passed slowly for both our hero and his heroine. Hermione was absent from every Potions class, and opted to continue studying for her N.E.W.T.s in the Library to make the most of her time. Professor Snape did not notice at first that the attitude of his entire class shifted slightly at the loss of his most apt pupil, but by the third day he came to the conclusion that the whole of the student body of Hogwarts were dunderheads. Excluding Miss Granger, of course.


Occasionally, he would see her passing through the corridors or at mealtimes in the Great Hall. He made no attempt to see her on her own, for any interaction between them would surely lead to disastrous results. The evidence from their last encounter was enough to persuade him from giving her plenty of space.


The space, however, did nothing to dampen his feelings for the girl. His heart throbbed as much as it did when he was first cursed, though he never told Dumbledore as much. He knew that it would cause too much frustration to bring up his emotional status, and that the trouble it would lead to would do more damage to his reputation than was necessary.


After all, what had Severus Snape prided himself more on than his self control?


Absolutely nothing. It was because of this that our hero slowly began losing hope of ever overcoming the curse of Love.


*****


By the end of the week, Hermione had studied so much that she felt sure that she would pass all her examinations at the end of the year with the best marks possible. In fact, she would not even be surprised if she exceeded even her own expectations and set a few records for highest scores achieved in the last several centuries, or some rubbish of that nature.


What worried her more was the looming date of her reintegration into Potions. She knew she would be able to keep herself from attacking Professor Snape mid-lesson, but she knew there was no possible way for her to pay attention while her lusty thoughts would keep her distracted.


Finally, the day came. Hermione came to stand in front of the gargoyle at the bottom of the stairs to the Headmaster’s office, spoke the password, and climbed up into the Hell awaiting her.


Reaching Professor Dumbledore’s cozy little den, she obeyed his request and sat in one of the two chairs in front of his large, cluttered desk. Taking a cup of tea proffered by the older wizard, Hermione sat in silence for a few minutes before the staircase began to groan and creak again, and Professor Snape entered.


Seeing the object of her obsession again did little to help Hermione remember her stance. She would let nothing get in the way of her education, much less a curse that just would not go away.


Dumbledore cleared his throat and readied himself for his business tone. “Miss Granger, a week has gone by since your encounter with Professor Snape. I trust that by now, the effects of the Amordestino spell have left you both and I can trust the two of you to return to your normal schedules?”


Staring determinedly into the wrinkled, blue eyes of her Headmaster, Hermione replied, “Of course, Professor Dumbledore. I am ready to resume my Potions classes.”


“And you, Severus?” Dumbledore asked. He had a stern look upon his face, showing obvious discontent, but said nothing else.


Silence for a moment. Then, “Yes, Albus. Miss Granger’s presence will no longer be any more of a nuisance than it was before the curse was cast.” Though the words held malice and held no good intentions, Snape’s tone was weary and resigned.


“Then I hereby give Miss Granger the privilege to resume her normal schedule. Feel free to ask Professor Snape for any extra help on the work you have missed,” Dumbledore said curtly.


“I’m sure there will be no need,” Hermione spoke up. “I’ve been keeping up to date with the class work.”


“Very well then. Severus, you are no longer needed here.” Snape left the room in a hurried fashion, leaving Hermione and Dumbledore alone.


“Miss Granger, if you ever wish to talk to me, about anything, I would be more than happy to listen and attempt to rectify any problem that should arise.”


Hermione smiled. “Thank you, Professor Dumbledore. May I go to breakfast now?”


“Yes, yes you may. After that, would you please try and make time to spend your day outside? Your skin has become very pale in the past week. A bit of sun would do you a great deal of good.”


Smiling again, Hermione exited through the same door as Snape. She only made it about halfway down the corridor before she felt her chest swell and she succumbed to the urge to collapse upon one of the stone benches against the wall.


‘I will never be ready,’ she thought remorsefully. ‘Never.’


*****


When Hermione arrived in the Great Hall, she felt a tremendous sense of displacement. Gazing about the room, she could see that nothing was out of the ordinary. Her friends were all seated at the Gryffindor table, chatting and eating their dinner cheerfully without even the slightest negative emotion apparent on any of their faces. How could so many people live such simple, satisfying lives? Hermione had never noticed before the constant happy nature of her classmates, excluding the Slytherins. Sure, there were a few students that stood out as the serious, intense intellectuals, but they clearly did not suffer from any forms of anxiety or personal stress. In the middle of the Great Hall full of witches and wizards, Hermione felt alone in her plight.


Realizing that she’d stayed in one place for too long and was beginning to attract attention to herself, Hermione stood up straight and strode purposefully down one of the aisles between the tables to where Harry and Ron were seated. Slipping between the duo, she quickly began filling her plate with the food resting in dishes in front of her. A few minutes passed before she realized that Harry and Ron were staring at her with great interest.


“What?” Hermione asked, exasperated.


“Oh, nothing…” Ron replied.


“You usually don’t even look at the food until we force you to think about eating,” Harry said staring pointedly at the plate topped with food sitting in front of the Gryffindor know-it-all.


“Is it a crime that I’ve decided to eat, then?”


“No, not at all,” said Harry, looking even more suspiciously at her by the second.


Glancing up at the High Table, Hermione noticed Professor Snape’s seat was empty. He’d evidently decided to take his breakfast in his chambers that morning rather than face her. He had to know that she hadn’t told the truth that morning. Her care for him had to have shown plainly on her face.


‘Fine. If he wants to avoid me just because he knows the truth, I will manage.’ Finishing her breakfast, Hermione sat back and made one final resolution.


‘I will forget that I ever thought I loved Severus Snape.’


*****


March, April and May all came and went, leaving the students of Hogwarts with the final month of the school year: June. In days, exams would be over and the seventh years would graduate, and the summer would begin, along with the rest of their lives.


Severus’ mood had not changed a bit since he came to the conclusion that he would never recover from the curse. He had come to accept that his heart would forever be enslaved to the one woman that would hate him simply because she had once been forced to love him.


There was little doubt in his mind that Hermione -- Severus could no longer think of her as Miss Granger -- had long since abandoned her love for him. She had merely been forced by the spell that had taken such a strong hold upon the two of them and relished her freedom from Love.


The days leading up to the final day of school passed much too quickly for Severus. Exams were over, and all that was left was the leaving feast. Nostalgia not being a common emotion at this time of year, Severus would rather refrain from attending, but as the Slytherin Head of House, it was expected of him.


The feast and ceremony were pleasant enough, if you were a student. Every feast was always the same to Severus: Hufflepuffs would cry, Gryffindors would sniffle but hold the tears in, Ravenclaws would be excited to begin their careers, and Slytherins would sulk. There was little point in repeating this charade year after year. There would be some students that would keep in touch with each other, but the majority of them would forget about their childhood friends as soon as they settled down in their new, adult lives. This would have disgusted Severus if he cared about any of the idiots at all.


The one he did care about certainly wasn’t an idiot. She’d even made the top of her class, although that was hardly a surprise to anyone, herself included. Her speech made on the behalf of her class was nothing short of the usual moving, emotional drivel expected of each valedictorian, yet she presented it with the air of someone that really did understand the significance of this last ceremony. Severus marveled at this girl -- pardon, this woman -- for her absolute wisdom, both in practical arts and in the ways of the world. Hermione Granger really was the brightest witch of her age.


Severus snorted at this thought. These pathetic feasts always caused him to think in clichés. Ah, she was stepping down from the podium. Dumbledore would now move on to the next part of the ceremony, and call out the names of each of the graduation seventh years and reward them with their diplomas. Most of them didn’t even deserve those scraps of paper, in Severus’ opinion.


Then, Severus felt all eyes on him. Oh, right. He was to shake hands with the students as they passed by to receive their certificates, along with the other Heads of the Houses. Shaking the sweaty palm of student after student bored Severus into a stupor, when he finally heard the name, “Hermione Granger.”


Suddenly, Severus felt an overwhelming surge deep in his gut. Feeling light and fluttery, he struggled to remain standing as the brilliant young witch came up to him after receiving her rolled parchment from Dumbledore. Taking the small, feminine hand in his own, he made eye contact with her for the first time in several months.


The instant his dark eyes made contact with the warm brown ones before him, Severus felt his entire world spin round his head. Hermione’s face showed genuine warmth and displayed a certain softness that Severus could now associate well with love. Realizing himself, he allowed her to draw her hand away. She blinked, and their connection was lost. Dejectedly, Severus forced himself to quell the rising wave of sorrow at his loss.


Hermione Granger would never be his.


Each of the students having received their diplomas, the traditional shower of hats rose up in the air to rain back down upon the newly certified witches and wizards. Through the steady downpour, Severus cast one last look upon her. She was looking back at him, smiling, yet there were bitter tears in her eyes.


Hermione knew that look on his face: Love. She felt it too, she was certain. The one thing that still plagued her was the thought that perhaps one day, she would awake and her love would be gone as a result of the spell having faded away after so long. This one possibility also kept her from her beloved for the one most important reason: Severus could also wake up one day and find that he hated her, once again. Ron’s spell had effectively prevented two people from ever having a relationship, though they were not the same people that he had intended. Because Hermione could never be sure of Severus Snape’s true sincerity, their relationship was doomed before it could ever begin.


She loved him.


He loved her.


They may have had a chance if not for the curse. Because of Amordestino, they never would know.


Regardless, they lived on: Bittersweet ever after.


-----

Author’s Notes: Thanks for reading to the end of my story. I hope you enjoyed it, to some extent. I love reviews, so feel happy to leave them. Any comments or criticisms are welcomed with open arms.

Until the plot bunny hops again,
SiriuslySevered