Loving Torture

The other teachers had begun to notice. How could they not? Hermione Granger had always been the school's best student, but lately her grades were being beaten by Gregory Goyle. It was only a matter of time before McGonagall stepped in and forced Hermione to explain why she had become this wreck of witch. Severus couldn't allow that to happen.

She walked through school in a daze, bumping into people and not even having the presence of mind to stop and apologise. And her eyes that had so often held that spark of life, shining with curiosity and the eagerness to learn, looked dead and dark, as if her soul had vacated and her body was just running on autopilot.

Having to teach her was the worst. Well, these days he didn't actually teach her as she didn't pay any attention to anything anymore, but having her in his classroom, so close yet so far away, was a torture far worse than anything The Dark Lord had inflicted on him.

Her friends knew, of course. In the early stages, when she had been in a frenzy of first love she had confessed to them, much to Severus' chagrin. They had done the noble thing, tried to warn her away, told her she'd only get her heart broken. 'He wouldn't do that to me,' he had overheard her saying one afternoon, sounding breathless and excited and completely happy. 'This is for real.'

And it had been for real. Of course it had. Severus was not a man to take such things lightly. But it couldn't have lasted. He had known it from the start and he cursed himself for ever taking it past that first kiss. He was too blinded by the whirlwind romance to pay much attention to the sensible part of his mind that constantly tried to remind him that she was young, impressionable, she would fall, and she would fall hard.

The trouble was, Severus had fallen just as hard. If not more so. But the difference was Severus had some experience in caging his emotions and feelings. For the most part he was able to block out that pain, except when he was near her. If he walked past her while she was mechanically stirring her cauldron, he would catch her scent in the air and he was assaulted by memories of her had tried so hard to forget. Memories of lazy Sunday afternoons reading books by the fire, of goodhearted debates where they would try to out-do each other in intellectual points, of long nights tracing every inch of her body with his lips, many hours spent in bed, on the hearthrug, the desk in his office, his favourite leather armchair, the shower, spending hours learning each others' secrets.

It was during one such trip down memory lane that he was interrupted by the hissing sound of a cauldron melting. Longbottom wasn't in this class anymore. He knew who it was. He turned and looked at her as she watched the process of the metal collapsing with a detatched expression, as if she had fallen asleep standing up, not caring that the potion was spreading across the floor and people were jumping out of the way in order to prevent infection.

Potter and Weasley threw him twin angry glares, fully blaming him for Hermione's current state. And right they should. It was all his fault.

He ordered everyone out except Hermione, who looked as if she hadn't even registered the fact she was alone with him once more. He spent a minute repairing the damage and magicking away the potion before approaching her. She looked up at him with those hauntingly empty eyes.

'This has to stop,' he said to her, hating the pleading note in his voice.

'What does?' she asked, sounding dull and flat and so completely different from his Hermione.

'This. This behaviour. You need to get a grip on yourself.'

For the first time in weeks he saw something flash in her eyes. Anger. 'Get a grip on myself. That's a good one, professor.'

'Hermione, this isn't the way to -' he began, but was interrupted by her hissing voice.

'Don't you even try to dictate how I should go on with my life. It's because of you that I'm like this in the first place.'

Severus hung his head. 'I know. If I could take it back -'

'Take it back?' she said furiously. 'Take it back? That's new. So now you're saying that you regret the whole thing? The whole - the whole relationship? Because I remember you saying many times that it was the best eight months of your life.'

'It was. You know that. But that's not the point. You can't go on like this. The faculty are starting to question it. They're discussing different ways to help you. To make you talk.'

'And we wouldn't want that,' said Hermione scornfully.

'No,' said Severus, 'we wouldn't. If they were to find out now, well, it would make ending it a complete waste of time.'

'Do you think I enjoy this?' demanded Hermione. 'You walked away leaving me empty and I can't stand it. You allowed me to fall in love with you, to get completely lost in the experience and then you snatched it away, and it's killing me!'

'I know,' said Severus quietly. 'I know. I'm so sorry -'

'Don't you dare say you're sorry!'

'Darling -'

'No!' shrieked Hermione, taking a step back. 'Don't do that. Don't call me that, you bastard. Have you any idea what you've done to me?'

'If it's anything like what I'm feeling, I can certainly imagine.'

'I don't give a damn what you're feeling,' she said. 'You're the one that decided it had to be like this.'

'Do you think this is any easier for me?' asked Severus, losing his temper slightly. 'It's tearing me apart. Being near you, seeing you ... remember my past Hermione, remember all those things I did as a Death Eater, and take pleasure in knowing that staying away from you is the hardest thing I've ever had to do.'

She stepped close to him, balled her fists into his shirt. Severus held his breath against the sensations. 'Then why?' she pleaded, giving his shirt a little tug. 'Why do it?'

Against his better judgement, he lifted a hand to cup her cheek. She closed her eyes, leaning into the touch. 'You know why.'

'I can't live with this pain,' she whispered.

He lowered his head so that his forehead was resting against hers. 'You will,' he murmered. 'It'll get better. You'll - you'll meet someone else -'

'No,' she whispered fiercely. 'I won't. I don't want to. How can anybody else ever compare to you?'

He understood what she meant, because he felt exactly the same.

'I know it seems like that now, but ... God, darling, I don't know what to say to make this any better.'

She covered the hand that was cupping her cheek with her own. 'Tell me you loved me, Severus. Tell me that it at least meant something to you.'

'You meant everything to me. You still do. I love you, Hermione. Can't you see that that was the reason I had to do this?'

She smiled faintly, turned her head to kiss his palm, and stepped completely away from him.

'If I were to die tonight, I know that I at least had your love. That's enough to take with me.'

Severus didn't really register the meaning of her words until much later that evening. Sitting in his favourite armchair in front of the fire, trying to not remember the many times he had made love to Hermione in it, he recalled their conversation, and the last words she spoke to him.

He sat up straight in his chair, dropping his whiskey glass, his heart beating violently. Surely she wouldn't ...

Harry Potter burst into the room, making Severus jump a foot in the air. How he had managed to get past Severus' wards was anybody's guess. His face was red and he was shaking severely. Severus stood up to meet him, his stomach churning horribly.

'You bastard!' Potter shrieked. He shoved Severus, and Severus allowed him. His back hit the wall but he paid no mind.

'Tell me ...' he whispered.

Potter glared at him, tears that Severus hadn't noticed before making their way down his cheeks, and thrust a bit of parchment into his hand.

With a feeling of great foreboding, Severus looked at it.

If I couldn't have him in my life, I couldn't live at all.

Severus hoped she had done it magically, and not in the more nauseating fashions the Muggles were fond of. He really didn't want to see any blood.