Cupido Declaro, The Final Act

Cupido Declaro, The Final Act

It was a beautiful Saturday afternoon as Snape walked toward Hogsmeade once again. Typically, he would enjoy such glorious weather. Today, it just seemed to taunt him. Each step brought him closer to Hermione and fed the storm raging within him. A week had passed since his last trek to the village, and his time was up. He had to face her today, and he was going to have to do it without the aid of the spell and with full knowledge of his feelings. The question was what was she feeling?

He was certain that Hermione would have researched the curse thoroughly to the extent of all of her rather formidable abilities. Has she been successful in her search? Does she now understand the spell's effects and the implications? If she understands my true feelings, how does that make her feel? Disgusted? Angry? Or is it possible that she will accept my affections, as Minerva suggested? There are just too many possibilities!

Snape had survived two wars by being prepared for every possibility. He never entered a situation without first obtaining all possible information. His current dilemma, however, simply had too many unknowns for his liking. For that reason more than any other, he dreaded the upcoming confrontation.

To make matters worse, this was a Hogsmeade weekend, and the village would be teeming with students. He had waited as long as possible before making the trek to the village, hoping that the majority of students would either already be gone or be preparing to head back to the castle post-haste. Also in his favor, the apothecary was not exactly the students' most sought after shop in town. With a little luck, his meeting would go unnoticed by his pupils.

Taking a deep breath and praying to whatever deity might listen that this encounter would not result in humiliation, Snape pushed open the apothecary door. Hermione stood behind the shop's counter, helping Mr. Somerby, a Hufflepuff fifth-year, with his order. She looked up at him as he crossed the threshold, but her expression hid any indications of her emotional state. Mr. Somerby visibly paled at the sight of his Potions professor.

"Miss Granger. Mr. Somerby." He acknowledged each with a nod of his head.

"It's good to see you again, Professor," Hermione replied, her voice conveying pure professionalism.

"G-Good afternoon, P-Prof-fessor Snape," Mr. Somerby stammered.

The young man hurriedly paid for his purchases and scurried out of the shop, leaving Snape alone with Hermione. Uncomfortable silence reigned for several minutes. Hermione showed no intention of initiating conversation. She would choose this moment to become speechless.

"Hermione, I... ," he started, but then changed his mind. "Hermione, is Mr. Anderson in this afternoon? I have an order to place. I would also like to speak with you, but feel that the conversation will fare better without interruptions."

Hermione's eyes narrowed slightly, scanning up and down his person, appraising him. After a few more thoughtful moments, she appeared to reach a decision.

"He is. Please wait here, and I will get him for you," she said, then disappeared through the doorway behind the counter.

A few minutes later, Garrett Anderson came bustling through the doorway. Hermione followed behind him, appearing completely calm. "Professor!" Mr. Anderson exclaimed. "It's so good to see you. I apologize if I have kept you waiting. How can I help you today?"

"Your apologies are quite unnecessary, Mr. Anderson. I have just recently arrived. I do have a favor to ask of you, however. You see, I have an order I need filled, but I also have some news I need to deliver to your apprentice. As the news is of a rather personal nature, I thought Miss Granger might be more comfortable if the discussion occurs in a private environment. Would it be possible for me to have a few moments of her time?"

The robust man gave Snape a look of surprise, but quickly replaced it with his professional smile. "Think nothing of it, Professor. I do hope everything is alright?"

Snape wasn't quite sure how to answer that question; their discussion was none of the man's business. Hermione had given him no indication as to her feelings, and Snape was unsure what to expect. But since Mr. Anderson had offered him a way to hold the discussion in private, Snape ultimately decided to answer honestly.

"I am uncertain at this time. I am hoping Miss Granger will be able to shed some light on the situation."

There, he thought smugly, an honest answer, yet ambiguous enough not to give anything away.

Stealing a quick glance in Hermione's direction, he noted that she was once again assessing him.

"Well, I do hope that everything will work out for the best then. Just leave your order with me, Professor, and I will have it ready by the time you return," Mr. Anderson replied. He then turned his attention to Hermione. "Miss Granger, perhaps we should just call it a day for you today ... you did start very early this morning. Just review for the brewing before tomorrow morning."

Hermione nodded her understanding, and Snape thanked Mr. Anderson for his help. The two then left the shop without exchanging a single glance.

Once outside, Snape led Hermione over to a small wooden bench near the edge of town and gestured for her to sit. He sat beside her and turned so that he faced her.

"Hermione, I owe you an explanation. When I was here last weekend, I thought that Mr. Creevey had miscast the spell. I hadn't realized that the spell had worked, and I was also unaware of its actual effects. Regardless, I..." he shifted slightly. "I apologize... for the scene I created and for offending you in the process."

Hermione caught his gaze with hers before he could drop his eyes. "Professor, I did find a book in the Hogwarts' library that had some information on this particular spell," she paused for a moment, appearing to choose her words carefully before continuing. "You said that you didn't know how the spell worked. Were you aware of your feelings before you were hit with the hex?"

Snape was uncomfortably aware of the heat rising in his cheeks. Leave to a Gryffindor to immediately plunge into the heart of the situation. "No, I was not. Emotions are very dangerous, even deadly, when one is a spy. And when attempting espionage in the presence of a skilled Legilimens, control and emotional evenness are vital. I have spent most of my life suppressing a large percentage of my emotions in order to survive," he answered, tearing his gaze from hers. "As such, I am not accustomed to analyzing my feelings."

"I see. How then can you be sure that the feelings are real?" she asked softly.

Snape's eyes snapped back up to look at her. Fighting to suppress his sudden and increasing ire, he drew another deep breath and slowly let it out before answering. It would not do to offend Hermione if he wanted to try to court her.

"Hermione, I have no doubt that you read the same text I did, as it was the only one I could find that even mentioned that abomination of a spell. You saw and heard the evidence yourself. And after having been forced to confront these feelings for the last five days, I can assure you that they are in fact real."

"How can you be so certain? You said yourself that you believed Dennis miscast the spell?"

Snape sighed heavily. Could nothing in his life simply work out? "Nothing happened upon impact. I didn't know the spell could lie dormant. Once I knew the spell's effects, I was surprised to discover that you were my heart's desire. However, after several days of introspection, I have discovered many clues that previously went unacknowledged. I should have noticed my growing regard for you a long time ago. I didn't. As I said, dealing with my emotions is hardly my forte."

Hermione remained silent, but Snape recognized the considering look on her face.

"Hermione, why didn't you ask to apprentice with me?"

She looked up at him in confusion. "Erm, well, I, ah... to be honest, I didn't think you would even consider it. There was little point in asking only to be rejected."

Well, Snape, old boy, it's now or never. She's been brutally honest with you. She deserves to finally hear the truth. Please, Merlin, don't let this be a mistake.

"When I heard that you had accepted an apprenticeship in Potions, I was deeply hurt that you had not come to me, though I did not delve into the feelings at the time. However, over the last few days, I have given the matter quite a bit of thought. I have been completely dishonest with myself and unjust to you. You are an extraordinarily talented and bright Muggle-born and a shining example of just how far off the mark Voldemort's basic fundamental beliefs really were. When you were my student, I had to play the role of a Death Eater. I could never have shown approval of your abilities, let alone help you explore that potential. I should have been honest with us both after the war and given you the praise you so rightly deserved. I am sorry, Hermione. I am very proud of you. In many ways, I admire you. I should have told you that."

He saw unshed tears forming in her eyes as he spoke. She believes me. Thank Merlin! It would have ripped out his newly discovered heart if she had jeered at his confession.

"The spell has ended, correct?" she asked.

"Indeed, it has. I can assure you I will be granting The Bard a wide berth for quite some time."

"So now what, Professor? How do you feel now?"

Snape allowed himself a small smile. "My feelings for you remain intact. As to your first question, that depends entirely on you."

"I never shared my classmates' opinions of you, Professor. I have always respected your intellect and have been awed by your bravery ever since I understood your role in the war. By the end of my Hogwarts career, I had moved well beyond simple respect and admiration. I wanted you to see me as a woman. I had seen past your roles and personas. You were a man to me ... an

intelligent, brave, alluring, cantankerous man. I wanted you to care for me in the same way I had begun to care for you, but gave up hope that you could ever return my affection. That is why I became so upset last weekend. I thought that you had discovered my secret and were using it against me."

Snape shook his head, silently denying the accusation.

"I would very much like to get to know you better, Professor, if you are willing, and see where life takes us from there."

Snape smirked. "Perhaps we can start with you calling me something other than Professor? Hermione, I'd much prefer to hear you call me by name."

Hermione smiled beautifully. "I'd like that too, Severus."

The sound of his name on her lips caused Snape's breath to hitch and stomach to lurch slightly, but not in an unpleasant way. Hesitantly, he reached across to caress her cheek with the back of his hand. The sight of her eyes fluttering closed and her head tilting into his hand were all the encouragement he needed. He tenderly kissed her lips.

Her arms snaked around his neck as she returned the gesture. He pulled her closer, deepening the kiss. She tasted of tea and honey. Her lips were soft and eager, and her body felt warm against his chest.

When they finally broke apart, each gasped a bit for air. He held her close for a few minutes more before opening his eyes and being forced back into the reality of his ordinary life. For a few precious moments, he felt like he had his princess. He was happy, truly happy.

It was then that he noticed Dennis Creevey over Hermione's shoulder, standing stock-still and staring wide-eyed at the couple on the bench. His eyes flashed in panic, and his stance was taut with tension. The boy looked positively ill. Serves you right, you meddling little prat! I hope you have nightmares about this for weeks. He smirked evilly.

Hermione turned, following his gaze, and burst into laughter.

The boy fled in the direction of Hogwarts, running as fast as his legs could carry him, no doubt terrified of Snape's retribution.

Snape's smirk intensified. I got the girl, and I believe that incident qualifies as my revenge. The little wanker will be terrified for the remainder of the year, looking over his shoulder, petrified with fear that I will appear to exact my revenge. In the meantime, I will be enjoying the luxury of pursuing my own interests with the beautiful, intelligent, young witch of my dreams. Hats off to you, Mr. Shakespeare. "All's Well That Ends Well" indeed.