Hermione forced a smile and gently pushed her mother's hands away from her bodice. "Stop fussing, mother." Her voice lacked annoyance. She smiled again, indulgently.

Mrs. Granger had tried her best to accept she was saying goodbye to her little girl and she was determined this would be the happiest day of Hermione's life. She consoled herself with the thought of grandchildren.

"Are you sure you don't want a drink of water or something, Hermione? You look so pale." She stepped closer and pinched Hermione's cheek.

Hermione swallowed and repeated herself. "No, I'm fine. Really. Just a little nervous."

Jane Granger smiled. "Don't worry, dear. He's a good man." There came a knock on the door of the dressing room before she could say anything further.

Hermione's father opened the door. "Is my princess ready?"

Hermione glanced up at her dad, who had a strained but genuine smile on his face. Hermione blinked rapidly, trying to keep the tears at bay.

She quietly answered, "No."

Joseph stepped closer to his daughter, taking in her angelic appearance. Her hair was up in a bun, with a few loose tendrils framing her face. Her dress had a beaded bodice with a soft skirt that skimmed neatly down to the floor, no poufy Cinderella dress for her. Simple and soft, that was his daughter. The calla lilies she held further emphasized her sweetness, softness, and smartness. Joseph was so proud of her and could barely speak. He lifted a hand to softly brush her cheek.

"Butterflies, Hermione? I thought you outgrew those."

Hermione swallowed again and looked closely at her dad. Her mother and father had always been happy together. Both equals, same tastes, both dentists. They had met at a dental convention and had never looked back. She wanted what they had. They still managed to laugh and be affectionate with each other. And they had her, said they were blessed, and never thought of another child. They wanted to expand their business, travel the world with her on summer holidays, and be a close family.

Hermione wanted to be that happy. To feel loved and cherished by a true soul mate.

These weren't butterflies that were worrying her. They were small warning bells that were gradually growing louder and more insistent.

"Dad…" Her voice was barely a whisper.

"Shh… come on, can't have my girls' makeup ruined." He forced a cheeky grin and held his arm out for hers. He knew if she started to cry, he wouldn't be able to help it either. And then Jane would cry and it would be a mess.

Hermione looked down at his arm and shook her head. She looked back up. "Dad, I can't. I can't do this."

"Sweetheart?" Mrs. Granger came up beside her.

"I don't… I don't love him. I don't want to marry him. Oh, I can't!" She implored her parents to understand. She felt awful. This wasn't what brides were supposed to say before their blissful union, was it? And she had said she'd marry him. What kind of cruel woman said yes when she didn't mean it?

She had meant it. Hadn't she? Like her mother had said, Ron was a good man. He was funny and stuck by her always. He was awed at her intelligence but… he wasn't right for her. She knew it all along but she thought their friendship would be enough. She knew now, with absolute certainly that it wouldn't, couldn't be enough. Not for her. Not now and not later.

"Honey, are you sure? You haven't just got cold feet?"

Hermione shook her head again. "I thought since we were friends…that maybe…I can't marry him. I can't." The full weight of her decision came down on her then. It was the right choice to make. She was glad she had seen it in time, but she still felt horrible.

"Of course not, Hermione. If you don't love him, mind, body, and soul, there's no question." Mrs. Granger squeezed Hermione's hand.

Hermione nodded, her mind made up. She turned to the chair behind her and set down her bouquet. She gathered up the small clutch purse that held her wand and turned back to her parents.

"Could you..." She couldn't bring herself to say the words.

"We'll take care of it, sweetheart, and we'll be here when you need us." Her dad gave her a quick hug before watching her dash out the door, turn the corner, and disappear.

Hermione ran out of the small churchyard, her tears falling strong and fast now. When she was out of view of the building, she closed her eyes and apparated, barely thinking of her destination.

When she opened her eyes, she was standing in a dark, deserted street. As she glanced around her, she noticed the familiar shops of Hogsmeade.

"Right." Hermione hitched up her dress and made her way determinedly to Madam Rosmerta's. If this wasn't an occasion to get completely pissed, she didn't know what would be.

Forgetting for the moment her swirling emotions, she ordered a large bottle of Firewhisky in a calm voice. Rosmerta's eyebrows shot up at Hermione's disheveled Runaway Bride look but said nothing as she handed the drink across the bar and waited for her to fish out the few coins she had in her purse.

"Thank you." Hermione mumbled and took herself off before anyone could ask her awkward questions. Of course, the news that two thirds of the Golden Trio were due to become a combined half was all over the Daily Prophet and circulating through the general population.

Hermione took a large gulp of the Firewhisky, spent a few minutes coughing up half a lung, and then paced herself, both with her drink and her steps.

She was logical. Her decision to marry Ron had been logical. They were friends, he was one of the very few who could even put up with the annoying know-it-all, and he made her laugh.

But most of the time she was laughing at him.

Hermione gulped and took another sip of her drink as she made her way further from the town. The night was closing in but she knew the road and the hillside like the back of her hand.

How could she be so thoughtless? Was her happiness more important than Ron's? He had been so excited the past few weeks, that goofy, lopsided Weasley grin of his almost permanently etched upon his freckled face.

She had enjoyed planning the wedding. Ron, of course, was no good at anything. He was even late to the dress robes fitting. But it had been fun going shopping with Ginny, choosing her dress, the flowers, organizing the reception.

She had been happy herself. She had been excited.

But Hermione could see now that it had been for all the wrong reasons.

She barely noticed the gate in time before she walked right into it. With another large gulp of her drink, she turned her back on the wrought iron and slid down onto the cold hard ground.

Her mother would kill her for ruining her wedding dress.

Her wedding… Hermione's head fell upon her chest and she finally cried; horrible, choking sobs that scared a nearby bird from his perch.

All of her family and friends were there, and Ron's as well. How had he taken the news? Was he angry? Did he feel as empty as she did? Would he come running after her, professing his love and trying to change her mind? Maybe he'd turn to Harry and…

Harry!

Oh what must they all think of her?

"'Insufferable Know-It-All Flees Wedding As Cold-Hearted-Bitch.' I can see it now…"

Hermione sniffed and wiped her nose on her arm. She was heartless. Selfish, too, and deserving of whatever wrath her friends, family, and the general population decided she was fit for.

Hermione went to take another sip of her drink, only to find her bottle was empty. Unfulfilling. Broken promises. An entire life to be planned again, a whole new direction to be faced.

Hermione was not usually one to get it wrong but it seemed even she was capable of making mistakes.

Big ones.

Hermione swallowed and threw the empty bottle into the darkness in front of her, hoping for the satisfying shatter of broken glass.

"BLOODY FUCK, GRANGER!"

Hermione's head whipped up to stare into the angry black eyes of her former Potions Professor.

"Professor Snape?" Hermione blinked and frowned. "What are you doing out in the middle of nowhere?"

Glaring at her, and rubbing his arm, Severus cocked his head towards the gate.

Hermione turned around and exhaled. "Oh." The mighty castle of Hogwarts loomed down upon her. "Of course."

"I might ask you the same question."

Hermione pulled her knees up to her chest and wrapped her arms around them. "No reason."

"I find that hard to believe." Severus' eyes swept over her gown. "Honeymooning in the Forbidden Forest, are we? Weasley's outdone himself." Severus sneered and moved away closer to where the heavy gates joined.

Hermione glared at his back. "Oh shut up, you great bat. Ron deserves better than that."

"Oh does he? That'll be why you ran away then. You're not good enough for the orange one?"

Hermione stood up. "I didn't run away. I…I…"

Severus walked over to her. "First time you've failed at something, Granger? I'm impressed." Part of him told him to stop twisting the knife in. Wasn't it enough that she had found herself in this position? But no, Severus was full of Vilma's Vodka (one sip and you'll be into next week) and so he felt like releasing some steam. Was it his fault that she had decided to come to Hogwarts?

"I didn't fail!" Hermione clenched her fists. "I made a bad decision. I'm sure you're familiar with that, Snape. I don't love him and I never will. You think I should live a lie my whole life? I suppose some people get by that way but I couldn't do it. I couldn't marry him and be miserable the rest of my life. I'm sure he'd hate me for it. Although, whether or not he'll realize that…"

"Did I say I was the least bit interested in your tales of woe? I assure you, I have better things to do."

"Fine. Go do them. Go sulk in your dungeons on your own like you always do. I'm sure it's really healthy."

Hermione stalked away to a nearby tree, trying to tell herself she didn't care one whit what he said nor that she had tears running down her cheeks again.

She wanted a companion, she wanted to be happy; she wanted the fairytale ending. But she didn't want to cook and clean and bear children for Ron for the rest of her life. She didn't want to hear nothing but Quidditch talk at the dinner table. She didn't want his sloppy kisses trailing down her body for the next however many years before he tired of her bossy nature and unattractive body.

"Granger, I would appreciate it if you kept your thoughts to yourself. I have no desire to lose the contents of my stomach."

Hermione whipped around. "I said that out loud?" Hermione groaned. This day was just wonderful.

"Of course not. I just happen to be an excellent Legilimensand can read your mind through the back of your head." Severus rolled his eyes, found it played havoc with his developing headache, and quickly released the wards on the gates.

Hermione stomped after him. "You could have ignored me, you know. You could have gone quietly to your rooms and left me alone."

"I think you're failing to recall you threw a rather hard glass object at my person."

"Well, obviously, I didn't know you were there. You do tend to blend into the night."

"I fail to see how this was my fault. Go back to your husband. I assure you, I have no need of your stimulating conversation."

"He's not my husband. He's…he's not."

Severus turned around, extremely annoyed she had managed to follow him directly to his rooms. "Miss Granger. It's late. I'm tired. You clearly have some things to sort out. I would appreciate it if you would leave me alone."

"I…think I'm going to be sick."

Severus stared at his bathroom door. With a little time to his own thoughts, Severus mulled over what was going on. The Granger chit had not married the orange weasel, she had come running to Hogwarts- Merlin knows why- and she was now in his quarters.

He shook his head just before she emerged from the bathroom.

"I'm so sorry…" Hermione had felt queasy but the cold water on her face and a few minutes in front of the mirror telling herself to calm down, helped ease her stomach.

She still felt awful. She had never before picked a fight with a professor. She also hadn't purposefully tried to get drunk. But then again, she had never left her best friend at the altar either.

Noticing she did look rather fragile, Severus sighed and pushed Hermione down into a seat by the fire. She was shaking from the cold of the night air, and with her own uncertainty too, he supposed. He pressed a warm cup of tea into her hand and told her to drink up.

He sat down opposite her, and stared into the fire. His thoughts were interrupted by Hermione's quiet voice.

"Why are you being so nice to me?"

Severus looked up at her. He lifted an eyebrow, stalling for time. This really couldn't be construed as nice.

"I'm a cold-hearted, heartless bitch." Hermione's words were quiet but clear cut. She felt like throwing her teacup into the fire and hearing that smash as well. However, she would hate herself even more if, in addition to breaking Ron's heart, she managed to wreck Severus' home as well.

Feeling slightly better now he was back in his rooms, and noticing she seemed much less sure of herself now, Severus allowed himself to relax. Or perhaps he was finally becoming mellow from the drink. He smirked and chuckled quietly to himself. "You can't be cold-hearted and heartless."

Hermione stared at him. "Oh… I suppose not." Then she lowered her head and brooded into her teacup.

"You're neither of those, Hermione." He honestly hoped she wouldn't remember this in the morning.

"Yes, I am." She sounded like a petulant child.

Severus sighed and crossed one leg over the other, rested his arms on the sides of his chair, and focused on the girl…no, woman, in front of him. "I take it that you feel great remorse and unyielding guilt?"

Hermione's eyes were saucers filled with unshed tears. She glanced up at him and nodded, her throat suddenly tight.

"It is my experience that the heartless do not feel guilt, nor even begin to understand the pain someone else may be going through."

Hermione's voice was a whisper. "Is that how you feel?" Hermione wouldn't state what she was referring to but she was sure Severus would know her train of thought. Harry had shown her all those memories when they had believed Snape to be dead, not merely missing, in order to decide if he should go public with the information.

Severus was quiet for a moment as he gathered his thoughts. "It is," he said softly. "The pain eases with time."

Hermione didn't feel as if she would ever feel less guilty than she did at that moment. But she wasn't going to argue when she knew Severus had more experience with that particular emotion than she did. Besides, she never expected to be speaking so freely with him. Somewhere in her mind, she suspected he would hate himself in the morning for being so forthcoming with her. But she was glad. It was an evening, despite how it came about, that she would cherish.

"I should never have said yes. My heart wasn't in it. It's always belonged to someone else." Hermione whispered so quietly, Severus nearly didn't catch her words.

Severus watched her intently, as he felt a sinking in his stomach. Of course it was too much to hope that now she was no longer going to be a Weasley that he would ever have a miniscule chance with her.

"Indeed, Miss Granger." He sighed and turned his attention back to the fire. It would be better for him if he never felt that most cruel of all emotions again. There was no place in his life for hope.

Hermione's head snapped up and she looked at his sharp profile. His customary scowl was back in place once more. "Miss…Granger?"

"That is your name, is it not?" Severus snapped, abruptly stood up, and briskly walked over to the drinks on the far wall. He stood with his back to her as he poured some scotch into his tea.

"Yes." Hermione sighed, placed her cup beside her, and slowly made her way over to where he was standing.

Severus stiffened as he felt her presence behind him. Why had he even let her into his quarters? What did it matter to him whether she married the weasel brat or not? Why should it matter that she was prepared to drink herself into a stupor at the gates of Hogwarts? He was certainly not her keeper and was no longer her professor.

"You're mad at me," Hermione stated quietly as she watched the muscles in his back stiffen.

"I am nothing of the sort," he growled in response as he slowly screwed the lid back on the bottle of liquor.

"You are," she insisted, "and I don't know why."

He didn't say anything, and remained standing with his back to her.

"Severus," she said slowly, his first name sounding strange on her lips. Her voice sounded odd. "Why were you out drinking tonight?"

Severus turned around, brushed past her, and stood in front of the fire. "My personal life is none of your business, Miss Granger."

"Sev-"

"And neither is yours any of mine. I do believe it is rather late. You should get home before your family sends out a search party."

Hermione swallowed. Just when she thought he was opening up to her, treating her as an equal, a friend, and here he was, building a wall between them again.

"Severus…" She placed her hand lightly on his shoulder, and felt him flinch. "I don't understand-"

"Of course you don't." Severus whipped around and glared at her. "You're just a silly little girl. Your biggest problem to date is that you finally came to your senses and didn't run off with the first witless imbecile that batted his eyelashes at you during your prepubescent years."

Hermione frowned, studied Severus' glowering face, smirked, then smiled, and finally burst out laughing.

Severus blinked, taken aback. He stood there awkwardly as she tried to bite back her laughter, failed miserably, and continued to laugh at him.

"I fail to see what's so amusing, Miss Granger." It irked him that she could feel such guilt for that undeserving twat and then have the audacity to laugh at him when all he had done all night was been hospitable to her. Well, you didn't have to teach Severus Snape a lesson twice.

"It's just that…that….oh, Severus!" Hermione's laughter slowly dissipated, and she smiled kindly at him. "Are you perhaps suggesting that I should instead marry a stubborn drunken git?"

Severus continued to frown. "Stubborn…"

"Severus, you goose. That's what's bothering you?" Hermione barely dared to hope. "That I…love someone else?"

Severus remained stoically silent. Anything he did say might be used against him.

Hermione stepped closer to him, placed one hand on his shoulder, and gently ran the other down his cheek. "I meant you."

Before he had time to process her declaration, her lips were pressing softly against his.