Home | Members | Help | Submission Rules | Log In |
Recently Added | Categories | Titles | Completed Fics | Random Fic | Search | Top Fictions
Angst

Anxiety and Adoration by articcat621 [Reviews - 9]


Would you like to submit a review?

A/N: I’d like to thank crmediagal for her help with this prompt. I'd also like to thank KyrieColors and dragoon811 for their wonderful help beta'ing. I appreciate all you ladies do for me. This was originally written for the HP Mental Health Fest 2015 on LJ. I hope everyone enjoys! xx

Disclaimer: JKR owns the world and characters of Harry Potter, not me. I'm not making any money from the posting of this story.




Anxiety and Adoration

Hermione sat at the corner of her table in the library, a frown on her face. There was just far too much work to do and no time to do it in. O.W.L.s were quickly approaching, and there was no way she would be able to get all of her studying done on time.

While starting Dumbledore’s Army had seemed like a good idea at the time, Hermione was quickly growing to regret it. She was glad to be getting actual experience, but it was becoming time-consuming. The D.A. meetings were cutting into her homework schedule, setting her time table back. She wouldn’t have time to do it all. There was no way.

Feeling apprehensive, Hermione checked her watch and saw it was close to curfew. She gathered up her things and flicked her wand, re-shelving the materials she was done with. She decided that she would take a short walk to the kitchens for a cup of tea before bed. Perhaps that would calm her nerves.

As she walked down the abandoned halls, Hermione couldn’t help but continuously think of all the work she needed to get done. How was she supposed to finish her essay and proofread both Harry’s and Ron’s? Plus, she still needed to read ahead in her Arithmancy textbook. On top of schoolwork, there was just so much going on. She needed to stop Harry from antagonising Umbridge, along with planning out which spells Harry would be teaching the DA. It just wasn’t possible. Her mother’s birthday was coming up— had she sent a letter? Hermione couldn’t remember.

And I need to study for my History of Magic exam. But wait, which goblin wrote the treaty that ended the rebellions? Why can’t I remember! I need my textbook! Her heart began to race wildly.

And their O.W.L.s. How was she supposed to prepare for them? Her fingers began to tingle, and she started to feel lightheaded.

“Oh, sweet Merlin,” she gasped, recognizing the symptoms. She was about to have another panic attack.

Looking around, she saw there was a small alcove up ahead. She rushed towards it, feeling her body began to shake uncontrollably. Ducking into the alcove, she sat on the floor and wrapped herself into a small ball. She rocked back and forth, trying to stop the irrational fear flooding her mind. She gasped for breath, tears welling in her eyes.

There’s nothing I can do. I’m going to fail my O.W.L.s. They’ll probably kick me out of Hogwarts. I’m never going to see Ron or Harry again.

The thoughts continued, and she felt herself losing control of reality.

Will they snap my wand? Will the Ministry erase my memory? Maybe I’ll end up no better than Lockhart.

Her hands tightened on the handle of her bag as she tried to remember to breathe. Her heart thudded loudly, as if it was trying to escape the confines of her ribs.

My parents will be so disappointed in me. I bet they’ll wish they had a smart, prettier daughter.

Tears welled in her eyes as she shook her head, her hair tumbling about haphazardly. She wanted nothing more than to pull her hair out as it would serve as a distraction to the thoughts.

What would my life be like outside of Hogwarts? I’d have no friends. No one would want to date me. I’m going to grow old alone.

Alone. All alone.

A crazy, insane witch with no one who loves her. I’m so pitiful
.

A strangled sob escaped her lips. She couldn’t take any more. She released her bag, allowing her fingernails to press into her palms.

Suddenly, there was wandlight shining in her face. “Miss Granger?”

Hermione recognized the voice of Professor Snape, but she couldn’t look up. She squeezed her eyes shut, wishing the chest pains would stop. She just wanted it to be over.

“Are… Are you in need of assistance?” he asked quietly, concern in his tone.

Still, she didn’t respond. She couldn’t bear to. The thought that her Potions professor had just stumbled upon her while she was having a panic attack was enough to worsen the pain. She gasped for breath.

“Miss Granger!” His voice was urgent now. She could hear a hint of panic in his voice.

Hermione felt fingers grasp her chin and tilt her face upwards. She saw his dark eyes staring at her and saw her own reflection. She looked pitiful. Her hair appeared wilder than it usually did, and her cheeks looked blotchy from her tears.

Professor Snape dropped his hand quickly, as if he had been burned.

She closed her eyes and tried to pretend that he wasn’t there. This was more than embarrassing for her; she was mortified. Closing her eyes, she focused on her breathing. She heard Professor Snape sigh. He was standing rather close to her, but instead of being suffocated by his presence, she felt somewhat comforted. His robes were likely hiding her— should anyone else walk by they would not notice her. In and out. In and out. In and out. She repeated the mantra in her mind, and eventually her breathing began to even out. Her hands were still shaking, but it was not as bad as it had been moments ago.

“Miss Granger.” His wandlight illuminated the small alcove completely. He took a step back, giving her some room to breathe. He Conjured her a glass of water and held it out for her. “You’ll need this.”

Slowly, Hermione looked upwards. She still shook slightly, although now she wasn’t sure if it was the after-effects of her panic attack or the look that Professor Snape was giving her. She shakily accepted the water, drinking it quickly. She gave him back the glass, trembling when their fingers brushed. He Banished it. “Sir,” she whispered. “I…I’m sorry.”

The professor shuffled his feet, emotion flickering across his face before he schooled his features. “There is no reason to apologise, Miss Granger. Panic attacks can be quite common during times of great stress.” Something in his tone of voice made her wonder if he suffered from panic attacks as well.

Hermione shakily got to her feet. She leaned against the wall for support, the rough, cold stones pressing into her. She tightened her grip on her bag, her stomach churning with nerves. “I’m fine, Professor. You can carry on with your rounds.” Immediately, her eyes widened as she realised she just dismissed a professor.

Professor Snape arched a brow at her. He seemed very uncomfortable with their situation. Hermione could understand why. He wasn’t particularly fond of her, despite her attempts to impress him in Potions.

“Sorry, sir,” she said softly, casting her gaze downwards.

“Miss Granger,” he paused, his gaze sweeping over her, “If you are in need of a Calming Draught, you may return to my office with me so I may give you one.”

Embarrassed, Hermione shook her head. “No, Professor, that won’t be necessary.”

“Perhaps a trip to the Infirmary, then?” His tone of voice changed slightly, leaving her to wonder if he was dissatisfied with her response.

Hermione shook her head. “No, sir, I’m fine. I’ll just head back to Gryffindor Tower.” She glanced at him and saw that he had a displeased expression on his face.

“I shall escort you.”

Her eyes widened and she quickly protested. “Professor Snape, that’s not necessary.” Her insides squirmed. What would happen if someone saw them together? Professor Snape was never even pleasant towards Gryffindors. Why would he offer to walk her back?

“It would be remiss of me as a teacher to allow you to walk back to your Tower on your own after having a panic attack. With my luck, something would happen to you and I would be blamed,” Professor Snape drawled, his eyes burning.

Hermione listened to his explanation, but she felt like there was something missing. She nodded. “Thank you, sir.”

“Do you require assistance walking?”

Mortified, Hermione replied, “No, sir.” Her body had stopped trembling, and she was back to normal. Her panic attacks did not usually linger long.

“After you, Miss Granger.” He gestured with his wand.

Together, the two of them walked to Gryffindor Tower in silence. Hermione’s heart hammered in her chest every step of the way. She tried to sneak a look at her professor once or twice, averting her gaze quickly when she saw he was looking at her with narrowed eyes.

Why was he being so nice? Hermione knew something wasn’t adding up. However, despite the strangeness of the situation, Hermione couldn’t help but be pleased that Professor Snape was finally paying her some attention. She had tried repeatedly to earn his approval, but never had. She worked twice as hard at Potions than she did with any other subject.

She glanced at him once more and was startled by the realisation that he was rather attractive. His hair fell just right, and she suddenly found she had the urge to run her fingers through it. The thought didn’t bother her as much as she thought it would. In fact, it didn’t bother her at all.

Professor Snape sent her a strange glance, as if he was confused by what was happening. He shook his head slightly before staring ahead once more. His jaw tightened slightly.

Hermione’s eyes widened when she realised that Professor Snape was an accomplished Legilimens. Oh, please don’t let him know what I’m thinking. Embarrassed, Hermione tried to keep her mind blank the rest of the way. She didn’t want to push her luck.

When they stopped outside Gryffindor Tower, the Fat Lady eyed them both distastefully.

“Lion’s mane,” Hermione said, and the portrait to swung open without comment. She turned to face Professor Snape. “Sir, thank you for escorting me back. I am…” she paused, trying to get her words right. “Well, I am thankful it was you that found me and not someone else.” She shuddered as she thought of Umbridge finding her in the alcove instead.

“As I said, Miss Granger, simply speak to Madame Pomfrey if you wish for a potion.” He gave her one last glance before turning and walking away.

“Thank you again, Professor!” she called after his retreating form.

Professor Snape stopped, not bothering to turn around and face her. “Oh, Miss Granger, ten points from Gryffindor for being out after curfew.” His voice had lost its understanding and gentle tone; it was once more bitter and cold.

Hermione scowled at his back, unaware of the smirk on her professor’s face. She turned and walked into the Tower, eager to get into bed.

She paused once the portrait slammed shut behind her. “He does care,” she whispered softly to herself. Professor Snape certainly cared more than he let on. He wouldn’t have offered to help if he didn’t. Merlin, he had even offered to brew a potion for her.

A smile appeared on her face. Professor Snape wasn’t that bad at all. In fact, Hermione thought he was rather nice, when there weren’t other people around. Sure, he had been his snarky bastard self at the end, but in a nice way. She couldn’t get over the fact that he had offered to brew for her.

Who knew that Professor Snape had a hidden sweet side? She recalled the way his hand had felt on her chin— it had been gentle. Butterflies swirled in her stomach. Yes, she’d certainly keep this all to herself.


Anxiety and Adoration by articcat621 [Reviews - 9]


Disclaimers
Terms of Use
Credits

Ashwinder
A Severus Snape/Hermione Granger archive in the Harry Potter universe

Copyright © 2003-2019 Sycophant Hex
All rights reserved