Disclaimer- I am not J.K. Rowling, as much as I wish I was, and therefore did not create these characters...I only like to mess around with them. :) I also did not write any of the dialogue in italics in the first section of the fic. These snippets are taken directly from Harry Potter and the Half-Blood Prince, pg. 619.

Title: Betrayal
(don't laugh at the stupid title, I couldn't think of anything better...)

Author: I'm sure you can all read the top of the page :)

A/N: I know this is pretty awful-I wrote it both quickly and a long time ago, but since it's been a while since I've done anything creative with my life, I thought I'd just post this and see what people thought of it. I was inspired, while re-reading the Half-Blood Prince while on vacation in Ireland, by the idea that if, persay, Hermione and Severus did have a relationship, her reaction to everything that happened would be very different from how we see it in the books. I had a vision of what would happen outside that office door, and decided to write the story that surrounds it. I also know that the ending is rubbish, I just wanted to play around with the idea and I decided to end it before I felt obligated to write an entire full length story on it. And without further rambling, this author's note will end. Enjoy :)

Phoenix song echoed across the grounds. The hospital wing was silent, its occupants lulled into quiet by shock and grief. Hermione Granger's mind, for once, was completely blank. The mournful sounds of Fawkes' lament constricted her heart, but coherent thoughts had been replaced by blurring images and emotions, flashing through her mind's eye. Dark eyes, a pale chest, slender fingers combing through her hair. Those sensations were interrupted as a question was directed at her. She fought through the fog of shock and heartbreak to comprehend.

"So if Ron was watching the Room of Requirement with Ginny and Neville, were you-?" asked Harry.

"Outside Snape's office, yes," she choked, "with Luna." She replayed those moments in her mind, and her eyes clenched tight. Staring at the door into which she had gone so often, Hermione had wondered how Harry would ever understand that Severus Snape was on their side. How wrong she was. Flitwick had hurtled into the dungeon, straight into Snape's office. Then he—Severus—came out, his eyes blazing with an unfamiliar look. His gaze fell on her, and the expression changed. He said Flitwick was hurt, staring at Hermione the whole time, and Luna went to help him. Hermione lingered, staring at the face she knew so well. He looked worried, but there was something else in his eyes. He took a half-step toward her, and his fingers grazed her cheek. There was a moment of silence, and suddenly his lips were on hers, a passion so familiar driving him that it took her breath away. No sooner than she had tangled her fingers in his hair, he pulled away.

"You must trust me," he had whispered in her ear, his hand still cupping her face. "I love you."

With that, he whirled around and disappeared down the hall, his robes billowing around him. Slightly shocked, Hermione went to help Luna.

"I was so stupid, Harry!" she cried in the hospital wing. "We just let Snape go," she sobbed.

"It's not your fault," Remus assured her. "Hermione, had you not obeyed Snape and got out of the way, he probably would have killed you and Luna."

He wouldn't,Hermione thought. But then, she didn't know anymore. The look in his eyes when he kissed her seemed so genuine, so sincere. He said he loved her. But then, he went and murdered the one person who trusted him more completely than anyone else, and destroyed her trust in him. Hermione couldn't help the tears from trickling from her bloodshot eyes.

The rest of the conversation about Dumbledore's death and Snape's betrayal passed by in a blur for Hermione, preoccupied as she was in her own thoughts. She returned to her dormitory that night, weary and dehydrated from her tears. She fell asleep wondering, how could he do this to me? To lie to my face and then kill Dumbledore? Why?

In the days leading up to Dumbledore's funeral, Hermione dedicated herself to helping Harry. The Daily Prophet reminded her each and every day that the man she had fallen in love with was still on the run, but she fought to ignore it and maintain the façade she had all ear, of deep hatred for Severus Snape, the murderer.

Though she had discovered the truth about the Half-Blood Prince halfway through the year, Severus—Snape, now, she told herself—had asked her not to share it. She reasoned that she could now, angry as she was, and did. Harry seemed as bitter as she felt, but not betrayed. No, she alone thought Severus as someone he wasn't; she alone put her trust in him. It was a feeling she would have to master, but each time she thought of the dark ex-Potions master, she could only picture his scarred chest, his black eyes softening as he saw her, and the vulnerability she had seen in him when he was curled up on his sofa with a book. All lies, she told herself, and she would remember the sight of Dumbledore's broken body at the foot of the tower, blue eyes no longer twinkling.

There was only one piece missing—his motive. Hermione understood his reason for killing Dumbledore, he was a Death Eater. But she could not fathom a reason for toying with her, unless he only wanted to break her heart.

The day of the funeral arrived, a gorgeous summer day that mocked the mourners with its beauty. Hermione felt numb as she followed Ron, Harry, and Ginny into a row of chairs on the great lawn. A small, stuffy man stood and spoke a bit, and Hermione fought to pay attention, fought to keep her mind from straying to the man responsible for the Headmaster's death. She failed, and again found herself dwelling on the brooding man haunting her dreams. Tears flowed in a steady stream down her flushed cheeks. Ron attempted to comfort her, but strangely she was repulsed by his presence, but she had to play along and lean into his warm shoulder, her face finding his collar. Even that simple motion made Hermione feel like she was betraying Severus. With a vindictive smile, hidden in Ron's robes, she clutched him closer, pouring all her anger and hurt into the gesture. Her smile faded and she sobbed harder when she realized Severus was gone, and would neither see nor care about her revenge.

That night Hermione was back in her own home, having been greeted by her tearful Muggle parents at Kings Cross. She moved slowly through the house, feeling nervous and out of place in her childhood home. She already knew that she would need to hide her parents somehow, and had an idea of how to do it. The idea of making her parents forget her broke her heart, but she knew it was necessary.

Still, Hermione moved about the house in a trance, preoccupied with was had been and what would come. She didn't notice the looks her parents exchanged, their worried eyes following her through the house. They knew better than to ask, but still they wondered, like they did every summer, if they had made the right decision in letting their only child live in a world so unlike their own.

Hermione lay awake in bed a week after her return from Hogwarts. She was reading a book about Horcruxes with half her mind, the other half focused on memories yet again. She remembered her return to Hogwarts after a summer at the Burrow, totally convinced of her feelings for Ron as far more than friendly. But in their first Defense Against the Dark Arts lesson, something about her professor drew her eye. His silky voice, the hostile eyes that looked into her soul. He was intriguing, and the way he talked about Defense made her rethink her favorite subject, which had been Potions. Hermione found herself thinking about Snape more and more, but only when he cropped up in several dreams did she acknowledge her feelings.

It was strange, she reflected, how their relationship began. She had gone to his office to discuss a paper like she did with several of her teachers, and he had kissed her then. He promptly threw her out on her arse, but Hermione never forgot the look in his eyes before he devoured her mouth. Nearly a month passed, and Hermione and Severus exchanged little more than heated looks in class, usually following when she challenged a viewpoint on fighting Dark magic.

After receiving a P on an essay with no further explanation, Hermione had marched into Snape's office, furious, without knocking. Upon realizing what she was seeing, Hermione stopped short, her rage deflating. Snape was sitting in the stiff chair behind his desk, his elbows leaning heavily on the desk, his hands supporting his head. With his hair falling around his face, he had looked so dejected, lonely, and helpless that she couldn't bring herself to be angry.

It didn't take her long, however, to recover her anger when he noticed her. He had snapped, raged at her for not knocking. Her ire up, she had yelled back at him when he demanded that she leave.

"I'm not going anywhere, you greasy-haired bastard!" she had screamed, flinging her hands onto the surface of his desk. He had risen, leaning menacingly over her, but she stood her ground.

"How dare you talk to me like that," he had hissed, ice and venom lacing his tone.

"You gave me a P. For no reason!"

Snape was silent. Finally, he drew himself up. "Your essay on the Killing Curse was abysmal," he said quietly.

Hermione could have punched him. "It was not, and you know it! I clearly explained the effects, the consequences, the psychological eff—"

Her irate tirade was cut short as Snape swooped down and claimed her lips in his. He brought his hand around to grip her head and pull her closer, even with the desk between them, and she snaked an arm around his neck. So lost in the feeling of his lips moving against hers, she had forgotten what she was doing and with whom. It felt wrong, but felt so right at the same time. In any case, Hermione was helpless as Snape deepened the kiss and maneuvered around the desk to stand closer to her. He gripped her waist, holding her close as he continued to kiss her, passion and lust dictating his movements.

It seemed like years before they broke apart, each panting from the effort. As Snape looked down on her, it finally occurred to them what they had done. She took a half-step back, shocked, and Snape dropped his hands as though he had been burned.

"Out," he'd said quietly. Confused and hurt, Hermione had stormed out of the dungeon to sort out her feelings.

Several days later, she had returned to his office, demanding an explanation of what had happened. Again, she walked in on the same scene of dejection, with Snape's head in his hands. He looked tired and beaten, and when he finally noticed her there was no anger, only resignation.

"I'm sorry," he had whispered. And she melted. Thus began their secret, passionate, and eventually loving relationship.

From afternoons spent studying in his sitting room to midnight walks on the grounds, Hermione found herself spending most of her time with Severus Snape. No longer dangerous, mysterious, or ornery, she saw him for what he really was—a lonely man searching for what was right, trying to balance the terror of his past with the happiness of his present and the promise of his future. And he found the love and emotion he thought he never deserved.

A tear ran down Hermione's cheek as, in her bedroom in her parent's house, she felt again the sharp pain of the loss of the love of her young life. She endured again the stab of his betrayal, of his lies. Angrily, she swept the tear from her cheek. "Enough," she said out loud to her empty room. "I'm stronger than this, he's not worth this."

"I hope you don't mean that," a soft, familiar voice whispered from near her window. She whipped around, her wand at the ready in an instant, before shock made her freeze.

Severus Snape stood at the window, looking haggard and tired (which she noted with some satisfaction). It took all of her self-control to not hex him into next week, but she kept her wand at the ready, her hand trembling slightly at the ire building within her.

"Hermione…" he said, taking a step forward.

"Shut up," she hissed, her eyes narrowing. "You have ten seconds to tell me what you're doing here before I call the Order."

Snape's dark eyes glinted with sorrow at her words. "I—I'm here to tell you—"

"8—7—6—" she growled.

"Hermione—"

"4—3—2—"

"I'M SORRY!" he roared, surprising them both. Hermione cast a quick Silencing Charm around her bedroom, shielding the sounds of their conversation from her parents.

"I'm sorry," he said again, more softly this time. "I should have told you, I should have trusted you, I wish I had—"

"Told me what?" she shrieked. "That you were always just a Death Eater scum, that you never loved me, that you'd been plotting with Draco—fucking—Malfoy to kill Dumbledore?"

"Hermione, please—" Severus started, but she cut across him again.

"Don't start with me, Severus. I can't believe I ever even thought I loved you…were you always planning on betraying me?"

"Goddamnit, Hermione, I love you!" he shouted. "Just let me explain!" He stepped closer to her, his eyes wide and begging. She didn't move her wand, but also didn't react when he came to cup her cheek. She merely pressed her lips together and waited.

"He planned it, Dumbledore did. To protect Draco. He asked me to kill him when the time came, took advantage of my loyalty to him. It was never my idea, I would never dream of killing the one man who was like a father to me. You know that, Hermione, you know me," Severus finished softly, rubbing his thumb across her cheek. A tear slipped from beneath her clenched eyelids and he wiped it away.

"How can I trust you?" Hermione whispered. Her heart constricted at the mere sight of him, and yet she couldn't shake the desperate grief that had gripped her at seeing Dumbledore's broken body at the base of the Tower. There was no discrepancy of the facts, and Severus had just admitted to killing Dumbledore. How could he expect her to forgive him?

"Just look at me, Hermione," he said, lifting her chin to make her look into his eyes. There was a pause, and then he lowered his head and pressed a soft kiss to her lips. The familiarity of the action twisted her heart, and she couldn't help but return the kiss. "I love you," he whispered in her ear when they broke apart. She remained silent, not being able to bring herself to return the words she so desperately wanted to say.

Looking disappointed, Severus kissed her again and then took several steps back. "I'll do whatever it takes to prove it to you," he promised. He squeezed her hand and began to leave. When she made no move to stop him, he crossed the room to the window. "This won't be the last time you see me, Hermione." A few seconds later, he was gone, having climbed out the window and crossed the yard.

When she heard the crack of his Disapparition, Hermione collapsed on the carpet of her bedroom floor, emotions swirling within her.

"I love you too," she whispered to her empty room. "I just can't."

A/N: I told you the end was awful...but let me know what you think in any case. :)