Finding Love
Status: In-Progress
Pairing: SS/HP, Ron/Hermione
Rating: PG13
Disclaimer: This story is based on characters and situations created and owned by JK Rowling, various publishers including but not limited to Bloomsbury Books, Scholastic Books and Raincoast Books, and Warner Bros., Inc. No money is being made and no copyright or trademark infringement is intended.
Author's notes: -
Summary: To find love is like to seek for a treasure. You have to take courage to find it, added with a small dose of foolhardiness.
Chapter 17
In the last forty years alone, Severus could claim he had witnessed all there ever was to life - both terrible and miraculous - and thought nothing would surprise him anymore.
Though that night, he was forced to amend his opinion about it.
He had - he couldn’t think of a better word to describe it - gaped (quite unsightly look to have on him, he was sure) when Potter had uttered the statement that, while astonishing and unbelievable as it was, had no chance to be interpreted wrongly.
Because it had never crossed his mind, not even a little, that there could be any relation between them, anything but as former teacher-student, nemesis, or sometimes allies, as they had nothing in common, and as different as night and day, and nothing-nothing whatsoever reason to think otherwise, except for the fact that Harry Potter could make him happy just simply by talking or smiling at him.
Love as he knew, tend to have that kind of nauseous effect on anyone, and unfortunately, no matter how much he struggled, he wouldn’t be the first one to be exempted from it.
But to think that the other party would actually want him as a friend; overwhelmed him in a way nothing else could.
He hadn’t so much shed a tear since Lily had died, but today his eyes were burning, and it took every ounce of his will to control his emotions, to not let it fall.
Potter didn’t mean it, he tried to tell himself. He only said it on a whim.
He’d be a fool to believe it, leaving himself wide open for immense pain later.
But he was only a human and hope… hope was such a wild, uncontrolled thing; it flickered from nothingness into something tangible in a mere leap of faith, yet he also knew that it could burn him quicker and nastier than a flame could do to moths.
There couldn’t be a price in existence higher than that, still, he couldn’t convince himself, that he should just forget, that he shouldn’t trust.
XxXxX
And so days later, Severus paid dearly for it; he suffered, his heart embittered because more than anything, just for once, he really wanted to believe it, to believe that Potter, even just a little, cared.
He was an idiot.
As usual, Harry-sainted-Potter was above all reproach.
Should Potter choose not to show up again in front of him for an eternity after dropping such bold statement, then it was Potter’s right to do so.
However, it was also his right - a pathetic creature he was - to wallow in self-pity and self-hatred.
Love had always blinded him and stripped him off his logic, sanity, and pride.
So how could he be so naïve, so trusting, even so much to give it the benefit of the doubt, when it had given him nothing in return but humiliation and pain?
End of Chapter 17
A/N: Full-blown angst. Sorry, I’ll try to make the next one longer.
Pairing: SS/HP, Ron/Hermione
Rating: PG13
Disclaimer: This story is based on characters and situations created and owned by JK Rowling, various publishers including but not limited to Bloomsbury Books, Scholastic Books and Raincoast Books, and Warner Bros., Inc. No money is being made and no copyright or trademark infringement is intended.
Author's notes: -
Summary: To find love is like to seek for a treasure. You have to take courage to find it, added with a small dose of foolhardiness.
Chapter 17
In the last forty years alone, Severus could claim he had witnessed all there ever was to life - both terrible and miraculous - and thought nothing would surprise him anymore.
Though that night, he was forced to amend his opinion about it.
He had - he couldn’t think of a better word to describe it - gaped (quite unsightly look to have on him, he was sure) when Potter had uttered the statement that, while astonishing and unbelievable as it was, had no chance to be interpreted wrongly.
Because it had never crossed his mind, not even a little, that there could be any relation between them, anything but as former teacher-student, nemesis, or sometimes allies, as they had nothing in common, and as different as night and day, and nothing-nothing whatsoever reason to think otherwise, except for the fact that Harry Potter could make him happy just simply by talking or smiling at him.
Love as he knew, tend to have that kind of nauseous effect on anyone, and unfortunately, no matter how much he struggled, he wouldn’t be the first one to be exempted from it.
But to think that the other party would actually want him as a friend; overwhelmed him in a way nothing else could.
He hadn’t so much shed a tear since Lily had died, but today his eyes were burning, and it took every ounce of his will to control his emotions, to not let it fall.
Potter didn’t mean it, he tried to tell himself. He only said it on a whim.
He’d be a fool to believe it, leaving himself wide open for immense pain later.
But he was only a human and hope… hope was such a wild, uncontrolled thing; it flickered from nothingness into something tangible in a mere leap of faith, yet he also knew that it could burn him quicker and nastier than a flame could do to moths.
There couldn’t be a price in existence higher than that, still, he couldn’t convince himself, that he should just forget, that he shouldn’t trust.
XxXxX
And so days later, Severus paid dearly for it; he suffered, his heart embittered because more than anything, just for once, he really wanted to believe it, to believe that Potter, even just a little, cared.
He was an idiot.
As usual, Harry-sainted-Potter was above all reproach.
Should Potter choose not to show up again in front of him for an eternity after dropping such bold statement, then it was Potter’s right to do so.
However, it was also his right - a pathetic creature he was - to wallow in self-pity and self-hatred.
Love had always blinded him and stripped him off his logic, sanity, and pride.
So how could he be so naïve, so trusting, even so much to give it the benefit of the doubt, when it had given him nothing in return but humiliation and pain?
End of Chapter 17
A/N: Full-blown angst. Sorry, I’ll try to make the next one longer.