Disclaimer: Though I'd LOVE to own the Harry Potter series, it belongs to the amazing J.K. Rowling.

A/N: This is my first ever fan fiction and it has not been beta-ed. I really want to improve my writing skills so... please R&R. Critics will be highly appreciated!

I am the only being whose doom

No tongue would ask, no eye would mourn;

I never caused a thought of gloom,

A smile of joy, since I was born.

In secret pleasure, secret tears,

This changeful life has slipped away,

As friendless after eighteen years,

As lone as on my natal day.

There have been times I cannot hide,

There have been times when this was drear,

When my sad soul forgot its pride

And longed for one to love me here.

But those were in the early glow

Of feelings since subdued by care,

And they have died so long ago

I hardly now believe they were.

First melted off the hope of youth,

Then fancy's rainbow fast withdrew,

And then experience told me truth

In mortal bosoms never grew.

'Twas grief enough to think mankind

All hollow, servile, insincere -

But worse to trust to my own mind

And find the same corruption there.

Emily Brontë, I am the only being whose doom

"Dunderhead," he muttered under his breath, drawing yet another big red cross on some poor first year student's essay on the functions of bezoar.

In his eighteen years of teaching, Hermione Granger was the only one who was able to answer his question correctly in First Year.

Granger.

Outside, a bell chimed as the clock struck at midnight.

Snape sat back, uttered a heavy sigh, his hands absentmindedly went to his neck, gently touching the part where a long and ugly scar lied.

Of all the people in the Wizarding World, why did it have to be Granger who saved his life from the Shrieking Shack?

"Insufferable know-it-all. It's all that bloody girl's fault." he snarled.

But if it hadn't been for the girl, you wouldn't have realized you have developed certain feelings for her.

"I'd better be off doing my rounds. I sure can't miss a chance deducting house points from the little brats who break the curfew, can I?" He loudly exclaimed, trying to push that thought away.

"Why did you bring me back here? Why did you even care?"

"Because you are the bravest man I've ever known. You're a hero, sir. And you deserve every right to live with your name cleared."

"Stop," Hermione withdrew herself from Ron's tight embrace, catching her breath after their daily intense snogging session.

"What's wrong," Ron grunted, wanting for more. "Tonight is supposed to be special. It's our anniversary."

"I know…but we may get caught."

"It's not that we're the only ones out here. Harry and Ginny have sneaked out way before us under the Invisibility Cloak, doing Merlin-knows-what in the Room of Requirements." Ron mumbled.

"But they're not prefects and this is not the point. If any professors find us kissing in the corridors late at night, we'll be in deep trouble."

"Oh, I get it now. You're telling me that you have chosen your prefect badge over me. How very predictable of you, Hermione, always the one who plays by the rules."

"Ron, please," she begged, "You're speaking too loud. Someone may hear us."

"So it's always me who's at fault, huh?" Ron's temper was rising. "Why did you even come out at first place anyway?"

"For Merlin's sake, Ron, stop yelling at me or I swear I'll ---"

"Give you two detentions for the rest of the month. Fifty points from each of you." A familiar voice hissed behind them.

"Always a step before the others, Miss Granger."

"Why thank you, sir. I'll take that as a compliment."

Why was his stomach full of butterflies when he saw her flashing him a radiant smile?

"Sir, I ---"

"Silence! I will not tolerate such public display at Hogwarts. Do not think that you'll have any privileges just because you've saved my life, Miss Granger. I didn't ask for it and I certainly will not thank you for it."

He smirked. "Rumors have it that you're intelligent, Miss Granger. Perhaps the other professors have thought too highly of you. Why, first Potter in your Forth Year and now Weasley. I thought you have better tastes than that…or is it that you want your future husband to be an idiot, so that you can manipulate him easily later on?"

"Professor Snape, how could you?" Granger blushed heavily. "And I didn't expect you to ---"

"What? I detest at mid-phrases." He snapped.

"To know….to know about Harry and me."

"Ah-hah! So there really was something between you two back then, eh? I guess Rita Skeeter isn't that bad of a reporter after all… think I might as well write to the Witch Weekly about the truth…" he said, totally oblivious to the presence of the two Gryffindors.

Granger and Weasley's eyes bulged in shock.

"What is it? So a wizard cannot read the Witch Weekly?"

Wait, did he just tell them his utmost secret? Dang.

He cleared his throat uncomfortably. "Tomorrow at seven, my office. Do NOT be late."

Granger snapped back to the present. "But, sir ---"

"No more 'buts', Miss Granger. If I see you two showing public affections again, be rest assured that your lips will be pressed together for the rest of your life."

He smiled cruelly when he saw Weasley staring at him in fear.

"One more thing," he hissed. "If I ever hear any rumors about my certain…hobby, I'll personally make sure that you two will be transfigured into something far worse than a ferret. Yes, Mr. Weasley. I know a lot more Dark Magic than Barty Crouch Jr. Does the idea of turning into a spider suits you? Better face your worst fear, don't you think? As for you, Miss Granger, how about a chipmunk? I understand that this non-magical creature has those big teeth like yours."

"Is something the matter, professor?"

"No, Her---… Never you mind. Five points, Miss Granger, five points from Gryffindor for meddling in other people's business."

Snape turned away abruptly, silently cursing himself for being caught staring at Granger again like a love-sick puppy.

Feeling humiliated, Hermione quickly clasped her hands over her mouth, trying to hide her already normal sized teeth from the world. After glaring tearfully at Snape one last time, she fled.

"Eat slugs, Snape," she heard Ron yelling at a distance. "Mione, wait!"

"Can I ask you a question, sir?"

"Have my attempts to stop you in the past seven years ever proven to be successful?"

She gave him an uncertain smile. "Well, then… Sir, do you still love her? Harry's mother, I mean." Her voice was barely audible but he heard them well enough.

Suddenly losing his ability to thrust his sharp tongue at her, he merely gaped.

"Professor, I… I'm so sorry. I…"

He stood there for quite some time, as if being petrified, watching her running away from the laboratory.

"No, Hermione. Not anymore." His whisper was carried away by the wind.

"Why," For the umpteenth time in his life, he asked himself. "Why?"

Was driving people away from his life the only thing he was good at?

First Lily, now…HER.

Why did he bring nothing to his loved ones but sorrow?

"Guess the bat in the dungeons will always stick to what it is," he spoke under his breath, a bitter smile playing at the edge of his mouth.

Oh yes, he could love alright. But he could never feel loved in return.

Not now.

Not ever.

A/N: Phew. This is it, guys! Thank you so much for sticking with me to this very end. This is certainly not the best SS/HG fanfic that you've ever read but hopefully it's not the worst... Thank Merlin that this story hasn't bored you half way through. Anyway, why don't you leave me a review and tell me what you think about it? Thankies! =]