Love Potion

Lolita

Hermione squeezed her books tighter to her chest. Her heart pounded, thumping so loudly she was sure everyone around her could hear.

She took a deep breath and turned the corner into the doorway. Before her lay the ominous Potions classroom, with a few groups of Gryffindors and Slytherins slowly trickling into the classroom, ready for double Potions with Snape.

Hermione's whole body was trembling, she could barely hold her books. As she sank into her assigned seat, the bell rang, and Snape walked in, his black robes flowing behind him.

He wasn't making eye contact with Hermione, although she struggled to catch his attention. He launched immediatly into a lesson about the effects of the Broter curse while taking regular doses of Moonlint potion.

Hermione couldn't pay attention at all, her mind was so precoccupied. Though she didn't quite understand it herself, she knew one thing for sure- there was no one she'd rather be with than Severus Snape. Throughout the class, she couldn't keep her mind off last night, after the potion... and the kiss. It burned on her lips, a painfully sweet yet bitter reminder of her impossible love.

The word "love'' startled Hermione, but she knew in the deepest parts of her living existince that it was the only word even close enough to describe her feelings for her teacher.

When the end-of-period bell rang for the second time, all the students had packed up their stuff and left, but Hermione stuck around outside the classroom door. Waiting for Snape, Hermione fiddled nervoulsy with her sachel straps.

When Snape finally strolled out of the classroom and saw her, he was startled. So startled, he dropped the papers he was holding. Scrambling to help him pick them up, Hermione and Snape suddenly bumped heads.

"Oww..." Hermione stood up, rubbing her forehead. "Sorry."

"What are you still doing here, Miss Granger? Why aren't you going back to your dormitory like the other students?" He asked, his silky voice strained.

"I- well-" she stumbled over her words. Suddenly, she snapped. She knew what she wanted, and knew he wanted it too. "Well- oh, Severus, why are you being like this? I know you love me, and I love you!"

"Miss Granger, I do not love you," he retorted harshly, "I am still your teacher, you will address me as Professor Snape. Whatever you think went on last night- it doesn't change that fact, I am still your teacher, your elder, and this... this... whatever you want to call it, doesn't exsist. I'm sorry, Herm- Miss Granger."

Hermione's cheeks burned in chagrin. She lowered her eyes, and turned slowly away from Snape. Her heart throbbed in her chest. Stupid, stupid, stupid!

Seeing her in so much pain, Snape cringed. He didn't want to love Hermione, the show-offy little... oh, but what was he thinking? He knew, deep down inside, that he did love her, he did want to be with her. Before he knew what he was doing, he had Hermione pinned up against a wall, his strong arms trapping her into his embrace, and their second kiss.

Passion coursed through Hermione's body, and, forgetting her surprise, she was kissing him back. Snape was so immersed in their kiss, he lifted her off her feet, holding her waist, pressing her hard against the wall. Their lips moved together, one motion between two people.

Hermione's legs wrapped around his waist, her arms around his neck. The closeness of his warmth- his body burned her skin, a fire kindled by his presence, heated by her passion.

It wasn't long before Hermione had dropped her forgotten school books, her bag falling to the floor with a thump that neither person heard.

When they broke apart again, Snape and Hermione were both gasping for air. Hermione gathered her breath and whispered, "Maybe you do know what happened, Prof-"

"Just Severus," he replied, giving up on any reason to fight the facts. He loved Hermione and he couldn't deny her anymore. "But only when nobody is around. Nobody can know about this, Hermione. You cannot tell anybody!"

She nodded and stepped away from Severus. "Nothing happened," she said softly.

Snape, overtaken by a wave of realization, suddenly looked around. "We can't be seen together. It's too risky."

Hermione giggled, then said quietly, "It's like Romeo and Juliet!"

Snape thought for a moment, then said, "No, more like Lolita."

Hermione screwed up her face. "Lolita? What's that?"

"It's a book by a muggle guy named Vladimir Nabokov. It's about a relationship beween a middle-aged guy and a twelve-year-old girl. The novel is quite disgusting." He looked down at his hands in realization. "I'm disgusting. Pulling you into a relationship... I mean, having you waste your love on me..." He turned away from her, his face clouding over with self-hatred. "I'm so sorry, Hermione."

A tear slid down Hermione's face, and she stepped closer to Snape. "You're not disgusting!" she said. "And you're not pulling me into anything. I chose to kiss you last night, and I brought this upon myself. Don't blame yourself, Sev."

The nickname "Sev" rang through his ears, and suddenly it wasn't Hermione standing there, holding his hand tightly in her own- it was Lily Potter. Lily, sweet Lily, with her soft voice and caring nature. Lily, who, like Hermione, was forced to live among Muggles. Lily, who loved Severus Snape enough to stand up to James Potter... but not enough to not marry the jerk. But she had loved James more, she belonged with him. And just as Lily had, Hermione would one day grow up, get married to someone her age, have a real relationship. A true love.

And Severus would leave her memory all together, she would forget him and move on. And Severus knew that one day, his beautiful Hermione was going to become something even more lovely, and she would belong to another, more suitable man. And he was willing to let her go, only not because he wanted to- but because he loved her enough to let her go.

But for now, pulling Hermione close and kissing her softly once again, he'd focus on his time he did have with her.