As I watched his lips descend on hers, I could almost feel my heart shatter into a million pieces. But what hurt even more was when she withdrew, breathless, and looked deep into his eyes. “I love you so much,” he whispered. “So very, very much.” Then he claimed her lips once more. I turned away, and went to lick my wounds in silent.

When did I first fall in love with her? I cannot say. Maybe I always did, but didn’t realise it until it was too late. The pushy, bushy-haired know-it-all Gryffindor prototype.

Krum in fourth year was never really a threat. And I hadn’t really discovered my feelings for her at that point, and although she looked amazing at the Yule Ball, I hardly noticed.

In sixth year she dated Ron. I hated watching them together, holding hands, kissing. I didn’t say anything, of course, what could I have said? But I was secretly elated when they broke up. She was free once more. Maybe now I could pursue her.

I had it all worked out. I would ask her to spend the summer with me at graduation. She would accept, and then I’d have a couple of months before she went off to university. I would make her see how perfect we were together. I knew I could make it work.

Maybe if I had told her sooner things would have ended differently. I was so sure that waiting was for the best, after all, I wanted romantic settings to admit to my feelings, and halfway through N.E.W.T’s is hardly a good time to pronounce your undying love for anyone.

On the day of graduation she went up with everyone else to collect her diploma, looking every bit the passionate scholar she always was, passing with Honours, top marks in her N.E.W.T’s, the whole hog. No one expected any less. I spoke to as few people as possible, and then searched everywhere for her.

Just as I was walking along the borders of the Forbidden Forest, almost giving up hope of finding her, unable to figure out where she could possibly have gone to, I saw a small clearing, surrounded by trees, with a river running away into the forest. There was a flowing, beautiful fountain, surrounded by bright summer flowers in bloom, and a large rock, on which she was seated, rich blue dress robes pooling around her tidily. It was the first time I saw something I didn’t want to. The first time she broke my heart without even knowing it.

In front of her, there was a dark-haired man, down on one knee, holding up a black velvet box. He whispered the words almost silently, but I still heard. “Hermione Granger, I love you with all of my heart. Would you do me the honour of being my wife?” The look on her face was of pure joy. She let out a gasp of delight, took his hand, pulled him up and embraced him. Then she said the words I had prayed I would not hear. “Of course I will, my love!” He took the expensive engagement ring out of the box and slipped it on her finger. I could tell she was elated. I turned and walked away, not willing to hear any more.

Their marriage was that Christmas, half a year later. It was beautiful. Much as I hate to admit it, it was the most wonderful sight I had ever seen. White lilies surrounded the walls of the Great Hall; He stood there, tall and proud, obviously barely able to suppress the urge to run to her. And she. She was incredible. A long, white gown of lace and satin flowed down, accenting her curves, making her look even more lovely than usual. She had a look of barely suppressed joy that matched his. She walked down the aisle with Ginny Weasley as her Maid of Honour and her Muggle father by her side. They had somehow combined Muggle and magical weddings. The result was amazing.

When Albus got to the “speak now or forever hold your peace” bit, I was sorely tempted to yell that I objected, to run up there, gather her in my arms and take her far away. But I knew it was far too late to object. The look on her face when she whispered, “I do,” took my breath away. If only it had been my eyes she had stared into as she said it, my lips she kissed afterwards.

The newly married couple took the first dance. Watching the elegance and grace in their movements, even I had to admit they were amazing. They looked as if they had been made to fit into each other like that. I was growing more jealous by the second. The two wandered around for about twenty minutes as people congratulated them, before escaping the hall. I had a feeling they were going to their bedroom, and, more importantly, bed. I made my excuses and went to drink myself into a stupor at the Hogs’ Head Inn, not caring for the dirtiness of my glass, or the watered-down Firewhisky. Once I’d drunk enough, it still helped me forget.

They had announced her pregnancy at the party tonight. Their one-year anniversary. Happy bloody Christmas Eve. After a while, they had wandered out to the place where I had seen him propose to her, almost 19 months before. I was used to seeing them together by now. But the few beautiful, completely intimate moments I had accidentally witnessed still shattered my heart. And I wasn’t convinced it ever would heal. As I walked away, I heard the words I shouldn’t have had too, should have been out of hearing range for. But the wind carried them, so I heard her say it.

“I love you too, Severus Snape.”

~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~

Disclaimer: Not mine, J.K.R’s, not making money, etc.

A/N: Show of hands, who thought she’d gone and married Harry? Right until the end, I did but then I decided that these two have had enough angsty endings where they finish up apart. Harry has the world on a silver platter. Let HIM suffer. (I am aware that this is an extremely unfair view of Harry’s life, but do I care?) In case you couldn’t tell, this is Harry’s POV.