To Complicate

Disclaimer: Not Mine!

******

Hermione did not sleep at all that night. She lay awake in her bed, staring at the moonlight filtering through her window. How could she not have seen it? How could she know herself so little to not even recognize love? She lay in her bed fitfully, her eyes leaking constant tears. The emotion which consumed her entire body was so painful she imagined she would die.

Hermione Granger, War Hero, Dies Suddenly from Heartbreak, she thought bitterly. And she let out a short bark of laughter.

She was truly going mad.

Running her fingers through her wild hair, she decided to calm herself by attempting to figure out when exactly this had begun.

The summer after Voldemort was defeated was wonderful and sad, full of both celebratory parties and heart-wrenching funerals for lost loved-ones. She had survived the summer by clinging to her two best friends, and she had even shared a few more bittersweet kisses with Ron. Any possibility of a relationship with him slowly faded away as the long, sweet summer months dwindled into the fall. They were friends, and it felt right, somehow, to simply leave their romance with the faded summer nights.

She remembered with stunning clarity the night when Harry showed her Snape's memories. Snape was lying in St. Mungo's, recovering from Nagini's poisonous bite, and at the time, his survival was by no means certain. Harry reverently placed a Pensieve before her, and Hermione was struck to her very soul by the memories. This man, Severus Snape, her professor... she did not know him. She did not know this man who sold his soul to the devil only to reclaim it for unrequited love.

Hermione started visiting Snape at the hospital, reading snippets of the newspaper and sections of books to him, though he was unconscious. She brought him flowers and talked to him about her dreams, fears, even desires. As Harry became more involved with Ginny, and as Ron threw himself into Quidditch, Hermione found herself believing that Snape was her only true friend. She would spend her nights confiding in a man who could not hear her and would only sneer at her if he could. The Healers told her that she was the only person who visited him regularly, and thus a deep connection was born. Hermione began feeling... protective of him. She began to care for him as a man. When he finally awoke, a Healer Flooed her in the middle of the night to tell her the happy news. She cried, but did not visit him. A conscious Snape became in her mind the sneering and harsh Potions master of her childhood. He would not want her there. He would laugh at her foolish sentimentality.

Harry, Ron, and Hermione made a deliberate decision to return to Hogwarts in the fall to complete their N.E.W.Ts. Harry professed an eagerness to rebuild the school, and his mere presence at the institution guaranteed its success. Hermione wanted to take her N.E.W.T.s, and Ron followed along, as he always had. A small but insistent part of her was overjoyed when she discovered that Snape was returning to Hogwarts once again as the Potions Master.

The year progressed uneventfully, a novelty to Hermione and her closest friends. Harry and Ron maniacally devoted themselves to winning the Quidditch Cup. Hermione maniacally devoted herself to N.E.W.T. preparation. All was as it should be, but Hermione noticed that her eyes were increasingly drawn in search of her enigmatic Potions professor. She found herself searching for him, wanting simply to be near him. What was more, she thought nothing of this newfound attachment to her teacher.

Then, there was the matter of Ron and Harry's astute observation at breakfast. Professors Snape and Sinistra had indeed been spending excessive amounts of time together. Hermione had resolutely ignored this fact until her two best friends had unceremoniously thrown it in her face.

And now? Now, she didn't know what to do. She turned to lie on her side and closed her eyes, attempting to ward off images of a laughing Severus with wife and child.

******

The next night found Hermione reluctantly following Harry and Ron up and up to the Astronomy tower for their night class with Professor Sinistra. Dragging her feet, Hermione turned to look at Ron.

"I don't feel much like going to class tonight."

Ron laughed. "Funny, 'Mione."

Harry chuckled and vigorously rubbed the faded scar on his forehead. "We're learning about the movements of Jupiter's moons and their effects on planetary balance... or alignment. Or something. You want to miss that?"

Hermione glared at him. "Well, sometimes I just don't feel like going to class."

Ron shook his head. "Hermione, do you remember third year? Time-turner? You always want to go to class."

Harry smiled in agreement. "Yeah, come on."

"All right, fine." Hermione sighed. She really did not want to go to class and see Sinistra, smiling and happy. But this was an important class; she couldn't very well rely on Harry and Ron for notes.

The trio reached the top of the Tower and assumed their custom positions on the balcony. Harry adjusted his telescope, cursing as he fought with the machine for dominance.

A hush fell over the students as Professor Sinistra walked in and began handing out assignment sheets. Hermione heard two Hufflepuffs on her right whispering about how happy Sinistra seemed lately, causing her to cringe.

"All right now, class. Fill these out and give them to me at the end of class, please. Note in particular the odd movements of Adrastea. If you have any questions, please ask. I'll be here."

A seventh year Hufflepuff whose name Hermione couldn't remember spoke.

"Professor?"

"Yes, Ellery?"

"Well, I'm in Divination with Professor Trelawney." The girl sounded proud, and Hermione would never understand why it was that people even confessed to being in Divination, let alone proudly trumpet the fact.

"Professor Trelawney says that the weird movements of Adrastea mean that the gods will smile upon summer unions. Is that true?"

Sinistra laughed. The tinkling sound grated on Hermione's nerves.

"I'm afraid I am no expert on Divination, Ellery. I will leave that to my esteemed colleague."

At that, Ron snorted and Harry openly laughed. Ellery threw an icy glare at the boys and then looked up at the night sky.

Ron, still chuckling, whispered. "I tell you, I am liking Sinistra more and more. 'Esteemed colleague,' indeed!"

Hermione glared at him. "Well, I thought it was downright rude. To make fun of Trelawney like that, in front of everyone!"

Ron cocked his head to the side. "Wh...What? Hermione... you hate Divination."

She sniffed. "Perhaps it doesn't quite have a... purely scientific basis, but still..."

Ron opened his mouth to say something but was cut off by an excited shriek.

"Oh, Professor! Look at your ring! It's lovely!"

Hermione quickly turned her head towards the noise. A group of tittering girls were surrounding Sinistra. The temptation was too great for Hermione to resist. She rose from her telescope and joined her classmates.

Sinistra was seated at her desk, a flush prettily spread over her face.

"Now, girls. Return to your seats. You have an assignment to finish."

"Let us see it again, Professor. Please?"

Sinistra smiled and waved her left hand at the girls. Hermione gasped. A large emerald stone set on a silver band twinkled merrily in the moonlight. Silver and green. If Snape were to get married, he would definitely choose such a ring. Hermione glanced down at her left hand, wishing desperately that the ring might appear on her finger.

A curly-haired redhead interrupted Hermione's thoughts. "When is the wedding, Professor?"

"Well, it's this summer. Severus and I..."

Hermione loudly cleared her throat. She certainly had no desire to discover the end to that particular sentence.

"Professor? I'm not feeling well. I think I need to go to the infirmary." It was not a complete falsehood. Hermione was beginning to physically shake again, and tears were starting in her eyes.

"Oh! My dear, of course! Here, let me come with you..."

"No! Er...no, thank you. I can manage."

Sinistra looked at her with concern, her eyes wide.

"Of course, Miss Granger. You can complete this assignment later."

Hermione turned around and practically ran from the Tower, refusing to look at Ron and Harry. She didn't want to see the questions in their eyes.

******

Hermione took the steps two at a time, hurriedly rushing back to Gryffindor Tower. She wanted nothing more than to throw herself in her bed and have a good long cry. And eat some chocolate. It was times like these that Hermione greatly regretted the fact that her two best friends were boys. Not that there had been many times like these. Even her jealous stint during her sixth year did not come close to this misery. Never before had her emotions manifested themselves into such strong physical reactions.

Hermione was not one for misery. She had previously thought of misery and heartbreak in abstract terms, distant and unrelated to her entirely. She had seen it, sure. Two years ago, when Thomas, a tall, rather gangly Ravenclaw had broken things off with Parvati, Hermione witnessed firsthand the girl's heartache, as evident by the copious amounts of tears and sleepless nights. It seemed as if this was to be Hermione's future.

And all because of her professor.

Lost in her misery, Hermione made her way back to Gryffindor Tower, wiping tears from her face. She paused as she reached the winding staircase leading to her rooms, surprised. Luna was on her hands and knees scouring the floor of the corridor and humming quietly.

"Luna?"

The blond Ravenclaw looked up. "Oh. Hello, Hermione."

"What are... well, what are you doing?"

"Looking for my earrings. I seem to have lost them."

"Your radish earrings?"

Luna blinked. "Of course not. The carrot ones. It's really a shame; I'm working on the entire vegetable collection. To loose these now is truly awful."

Hermione, momentarily stunned out of her misery, smiled a truly genuine smile.

"Have you tried Summoning them, Luna?"

The girl clambered to her feet and looked at Hermione, her silver eyes gleaming. "Well, I tried. But I fear it's too late."

"Too late? Too late to Summon them?" Though the War had endeared Luna to Hermione, the girl was clearly a few Sickles short of a Galleon.

"Yes." Luna nodded vigorously. "My father recently wrote an editorial for The Quibbler...some objects can escape magic, you see."

"Um... what?"

"It's how we wizards and witches lose things. Sometimes, things don't want to be found. Like my carrots."

Hermione shifted, uncomfortable. "Right... Well, good luck!"

Luna abruptly came disturbingly close to Hermione and touched her cheek. Surprised, Hermione took a step back and looked at Luna warily.

"It will be okay, Hermione."

Hermione blinked. "What are you talking about?"

"You're sad. Perhaps sadder than you've ever been before," Luna whispered mysteriously. "But you mustn't dwell on it."

Hermione looked up towards the ceiling, blinking her eyes rapidly. How could Luna tell? What did she know?

"I...How can you tell, Luna?"

"It's in your eyes. The sadness."

A tear slid down her cheek. "I... I don't know what to do, Luna. I don't know what to do. I fear... I fear so much. You don't know what it's like, to watch as your only chance for true happiness slips away. And I can't do anything about it!" Hermione sobbed, and Luna comfortingly put her arms around her, pulling her in for a fierce hug.

"I don't know much about love, Hermione. But I do know you. You are the strongest, bravest woman I know," Luna stated matter-of-factly. "And you can overcome this."

Hermione smiled through her tears. Luna, always there when needed. She never asked for anything in return. Perhaps Hermione did have a girlfriend.

"But," Luna continued. "Guard your thoughts. Don't let the Kinkleboos in."

"Wh...What? The Kinkl... What?"

Luna smiled patiently. "The second-cousins of the Dementors, you see. They are attracted to misery and can control your thoughts, make them dark."

"Oh. Right. I'll look out for those," Hermione said, hoping desperately she wouldn't laugh.

Luna nodded in agreement. "No one wants their thoughts tinged with darkness, Hermione."

With that, Luna smiled lopsidedly and skipped away.

Bewildered, Hermione continued her walk towards the Gryffindor Tower.

******

Hermione woke up early to grab breakfast alone. She did not want to face the boys, as they would undoubtedly pester her about her admittedly bizarre behaviour. She was also sure to avoid the sight of Snape and Sinistra so early in the morning.

She quickly dressed and pulled her messy hair back into a loose bun. Grabbing her wand, she quietly snuck out of her room, so as to not disturb her bunkmates at this early hour. She felt considerably better today. The talk with Luna had helped her tremendously. She was strong, and she could overcome this! She would have to, as she had simply no chance for capturing Snape's attention away from the beautiful Astronomy professor. Last night in bed Hermione had contemplated the seductive powers of heavy makeup and shortened skirts but laughed. She was not yet that desperate, and surely the ink stains on her hands and the overflowing book bag on her back would entirely ruin that particular image.

The Great Hall was almost completely empty. Two Ravenclaws were conversing quietly at their table, and a handful of Slytherins were hurriedly shovelling food into their mouths. Professor Flitwick was sipping tea and perusing the morning's Daily Prophet. He waved merrily at her from across the Hall.

Hermione took her seat at the Gryffindor Table and piled her plate with eggs. Food suddenly sounded appealing to her once again. Perhaps it was her new outlook, her new determination to somehow live through the acute emotional mess that was becoming her life.

She eagerly poured ketchup on her eggs and reached for a piece of toast. She felt famished.

Suddenly, Hermione paused, her butter knife poised above the jam. She thought she had heard...but no. It couldn't be. Professor Snape never took his breakfast so early.

His voice, however, was unmistakable, and Hermione fearfully looked towards the doors of the Great Hall. Snape, his dark hair tied regally in a clasp on the back of his head, entered the Hall, Sinistra lightly touching his arm as she glided along next to him. Hermione stared at the sight in horror, and her knife dropped from her hand, clanging loudly against her plate.

The two professors looked towards her, Sinistra's eyes wide with compassion and Snape's narrowed to small slits. Sinistra whispered something in Snape's ear and he nodded once. She released his arm and headed towards Hermione with determination.

"Miss Granger," she said as she sat down uncomfortably close to Hermione on the bench. "I do hope you are feeling better, my dear."

"Oh... yes. It was just some nausea." Hermione deliberately scooted away from her professor. What did the woman want from her? An admission of defeat? Congratulations, perhaps? Surely, Sinistra was mocking her, with her perfectly manicured nails, her alabaster skin, and her long black hair which curled attractively around her face. Hermione considered herself in comparison...nails often bit ragged after a late night study session, skin often blotchy with imperfections, and her horrid, horrid hair, which frizzed terribly, framing her heart-shaped face in a persistent halo of fuzz. Glancing quickly at Snape, she noticed her professor was watching the exchange intently, his dark eyes glittering. Though he was not conventionally handsome, Hermione felt a strong burst of emotion start painfully in her heart and settle deep in her stomach at the sight of him. Was he handsome? Perhaps not. But alluring in ways she could not name, yes.

With a start, Hermione realised that Snape had apparently noticed her attention and was gazing at her curiously. She blushed and quickly forced her eyes back to Sinistra.

The witch was also looking at her curiously, and she placed a cool hand on Hermione's forehead.

"Why, my dear, you feel quite warm! Let me take you to Poppy."

Hermione pulled away from the offending appendage and violently shook her head.

"No, no. It's just a bit hot in here, I think."

Sinistra nodded understandingly. "Of course. If you need anything, Miss Granger, please do not hesitate to ask. I'm always here for my students."

"Thank you, ma'am," she said in reply, her voice shaky.

With that, Sinistra gracefully got to her feet and looked at Snape pointedly, shrugging her shoulders and gesturing discreetly to Hermione. She then walked to the High Table, her heeled shoes clicking with a confidence Hermione could never muster.

Snape, standing alone next to Hermione, shifted uneasily. Hermione watched his every twitch with heart-wrenching interest.

"Miss Granger," he murmured. "Could I perhaps speak with you?"

Her heart leapt in her chest. "Of course, Professor," her calm voice belying the panic that coursed strongly through her veins.

He looked away from her and sighed. "Would you mind going... elsewhere?"

"No. Not at all," she said, feeling as if she would follow him to Hades and back again if he would but look at her.

Leaving her breakfast abandoned on the table, Hermione hurriedly followed Snape out of the Great Hall. Students were beginning to trickle in for the morning meal, but Hermione spared them not a glance. All of her thoughts were strongly focused on the man before her.

Oh, how she loved him.

He led her through a winding corridor and into a hallway she had never seen before. He stopped abruptly and turned towards her. The wan morning sunlight streamed through the windows, lazily playing with the harsh angles and unforgiving lines of his face.

"Do forgive me, Miss Granger. I did not want other ears to hear this conversation."

Hermione swallowed. What conversation? What could he possibly have to say to her?

"Yes, Professor?" She nervously wiped her sweaty hands on her robes.

"Is something the matter, Miss Granger?"

Hermione noticed that his voice trembled slightly and he was fidgeting with the cuff of his shirt. He was nervous.

"I... I am not sure what you mean, sir."

He looked at her sharply. "Don't you? I believe you do."

As Hermione saw it, she had two choices before her. She could confess her feelings to Snape and risk being ridiculed and, worse, pitied. Or, she could feign ignorance and simply try to salvage a bit of her self-respect. She opted for the latter.

"No. There is nothing the matter. You are mistaken."

He shook his head and started pacing in front of her, his hands clasped tightly behind his back. "Then why did you come to my office that night, Miss Granger? Why... Why did you ask me those questions?" His voice was agitated, and he appeared positively unravelled. Hermione had never before witnessed her stoic, unaffected professor in such a state.

"It was a misunderstanding, sir," she whispered. It was very difficult to be in the presence of the man she loved and think rationally. Her thoughts were beginning to fray, and she wanted to tell him to stop pacing. He was making this very difficult. She was mortified to feel the bitter prickling of tears behind her eyelids.

"A misunderstanding? Then why are you crying?" He stopped his restless roaming and faced her, concern in his dark eyes.

"I'm not...I'm not crying," she said miserably, averting her gaze.

He stepped closer. "Hermione..."

And he reached out his hand and gently cupped her chin, tenderly turning her face towards his. It seemed to Hermione that time stopped in that sunlit passageway, as if her very life had been leading to this moment, standing in an abandoned corridor with her professor. She closed her eyes and concentrated on the feel of his fingers on her skin.

He was saying something, and Hermione struggled to concentrate on his words.

"...Aurora told me she suspected," he was saying, and Hermione suddenly realised that he knew; he had to know she loved him now. And he was getting married, and that woman had caused this situation. Sinistra knew, the witch, and she had told Snape to talk with her, and his hand, his hand that was touching her so intimately amounted to nothing more than pity.

So she stepped away from him, away from the warmth of his hand on her face.

She wiped the tears from her eyes and shakily faced him. "I'm so sorry, sir. I didn't mean to..."

He lowered his hand, confused. "Didn't mean to do what, Hermione?"

"I just..." She stopped, uncertain if she could go on without sobbing. "I just hope your happy, Professor. And Professor Sinistra was wrong, sir."

He stared at her blankly.

"She...she is?" His voice was hoarse. "Is that all? All you have to say? I don't think I quite understand... Surely there was more... and I wasn't mistaken..." He turned away from her, muttering to himself.

She stood very still before him, uncertain as to what she should do.

"Very well, Miss Granger. You may leave. I apologize for any inconvenience I may have caused you. Apparently, I misunderstood your intentions." His voice was cold and harsh. He had not spoken to her like this since well before the War. She felt eleven years old and incompetent once again.

He brushed past her and walked away. Hermione struggled to comprehend the meaning behind his words. He misunderstood her intentions? But then that would mean...she had to stop him, to find out what he meant.

"Sev...er, Professor! Sir." She yelled after his retreating form, and she ran along the stoned floor to catch up with him. She had to know what he meant.

He stopped and slowly turned around, his face impassive. She smiled brilliantly at him and opened her mouth to speak, but he cut her off.

"I have nothing further to say to you, Miss Granger."

With that, he left.

******

A/N Once again, thanks to my marvellous beta and to the admins at TPP.