The Hand Of Fate

He didn't really ever think that he'd get what he wanted. From the beginning he knew that it was not meant to be; she'd never have him, and even if by some miracle, she did, something would come and take her away again, like everything else that had been good in his life.

And then it would hurt. God knows he'd had enough of that to last him a lifetime. So really he was just protecting himself.

So why the hell was he hurting so badly? It was like someone had taken a heavy weight and placed it on his chest; crushing his heart and making every beat feel like a hammer was smashing him up from the inside.

It was unbearable to look at her- when he did his pulse quickened, he could feel himself sweating and it became a conscious effort to breathe steadily.

Yes- Severus Snape had got it bad. Real bad. And the most ironic thing was that the person he craved was none other than the classroom know-it-all, Miss Hermione bloody Granger.

The logical part of him was disgusted. She was a bossy overachiever always sticking her nose in where it wasn't wanted. But the thing that he found most disturbing of all was that she was a student- a minor- a child for God's sake! Although admittedly when he's last taken a good look, she didn't look like a child...

He shook himself. No- mustn't go down THAT road, because it just wasn't going to happen.

And anyway, why would she want him? She was a teenage girl, ready to have fun and go off into the world, to meet others her own age and find herself a successful career. Whilst he was here, skulking around the dungeons, breathing down pupils necks and getting his kicks from terrifying first years.

He frowned. Yes, life was not sweet. If fate was a person, it really had it in for him. He felt like it's personal punch- bag, ready to take the knocks and blows without any resistance or objection. And the next blow was just around the corner; he could see it coming a mile away. But still he didn't raise an arm to defend himself, or duck to avoid it; he just stood, ready to receive the blow.

He was brought out of his musings by a knock at the door. Severus shook himself and stood up in irritation, annoyed to be disrupted from his grim thoughts.

"Come in."

The door opened and in the doorway, her face half in shadow, half bathed in flickering light from the fireplace, stood Hermione Granger.

Calm, be calm now Severus. Don't loose your head. Treat her like everybody else.

But as he looked at her; her strong, prominent features partly illuminated in the glowing firelight, he found that he just couldn't. Try as he might, he could only see a beautiful, stunning young woman, and it was all that he could do to not walk over to her, take her in his arms and kiss her until neither had any breath left in their bodies.

He stopped himself. What the hell was he thinking of? If he had indeed done what he had just been contemplating she would have broken away from him, a horrified, confused look on her face and then fled. Who in their right mind would want to be touched by him, Snape, the greasy git with the hooked nose, thin lips, sallow, pale skin and lank, greasy locks of dark hair.

He wasn't good enough for her. He knew it, and it hurt. Badly.

His mind, however was drawn back to the present when she opened her mouth and began to speak.

"Er...um...professor. I need to tell you something about... stuff."

"Yes Miss Granger. Say it and then leave, if you would. I do not take kindly to students interrupting my valuable study hours", he said, pulling himself together and then finishing it off nicely with a cold sarcastic smile.

But inside he was curious. Her usual self- confident exterior was nowhere to be seen and he could see her hands, twisting and figiting, an clear and obvious sign that she was not at ease. For a moment she seemed to hesitate, as if fighting an internal battle, but then she lifted her chin slightly and looked into his face defiantly.

"I came here to tell you professor, something that I have to get off my chest. I... um, have, um..." She trailed off, her chin lowered and her body slumping, facing the ground, but still her eyes, black in the firelight, looked at him, unwavering.

"Oh, what the hell. Professor Severus Snape, I love you." And with that that she walked quickly up to him, placed both of her hands, clammy with sweat, on the sides of his head and kissed him, very certainly, on the lips.

Snape blinked, shocked into silence. Was it possible that this wasn't real- just another tantalising dream- he'd had enough of them. But no- the softness of her lips and the lingering taste of honey and ginger that he had tasted when their lips met, was real enough.

She studied his face, anxiously awaiting his reaction. Neither moved- both were looking at each other, unconsciously holding their breath.

He pulled himself together, and the reality of what had just happened struck him.

Hermione LOVED him. Loved HIM. For a moment this thought was all that he could process; it elevated him to heights he thought that he could never reach. He wanted to smile, to laugh, to run screaming through the corridors so that everyone would know.

But then relisation hit him. She was a student and he was a teacher. She was beautiful and he was ugly. She was kind and he was harsh and cutting. She was innocent and he was an ex Death Eater. The hand of fate was fast approaching him- he could see it coming towards him, about to strike the blow; ready to hurt him. And he was letting it.

Hermione saw the shock and horror in his face and began to turn away, backing away from him. He saw her recoil, hiding her face from his, knowing that she was trying to hide the pain and hurt from him.

Suddenly he could see that hand, reaching towards him, striking him down.

NO! He would not let it. He was sick of the pain he felt, sick of the constant aching for someone to understand, sick for love. And so he hit back, blocking fate's ugly hand, pushing it back.

"Hermione- wait."

She turned, tilting her head toward his, searching his eyed to try and find a spark of emotion that would indicate what he was feeling.

"I'm sorry Professor. I shouldn't have..." she began, but before she could finish he had wrapped his arms around her and was kissing her, slowly, but with so much passion, enjoying the feel of her skin; drinking in her taste and warmth.

When they eventually broke apart he looked at her, saw the smile on her face, looked into her eyes, and smiled back.

And you know what?

He didn't hurt any more.