Pictured: Severus and Hermione in her sixth year // Artist: Wild Angel
I’m afraid I probably would have gasped and been slightly nauseated by such a suggestion, and not because Severus was somehow an undesirable wizard by any stretch of the imagination (he’s a better looking fellow than he’ll ever give himself credit for), but because, well, he was my professor. The idea would have been unthinkable.
And yet, it was one of those natural progressions that, for lack of a better explanation, simply “happened.”
I don’t regret the friendship we struck up, which was instigated by me and took a lot of considerable time and patience to come to fruition. But I fell in love with him, and that couldn’t be helped. I could have suppressed my feelings, but it would have been a lie.
Severus is the love of my life, whether others think how we came together was appropriate or not, it is what it is. And I wouldn’t change a thing.
I would have, first, uttered something along the lines of how they should “watch their tongue” and, second, hex them to make sure my point was well-understood.
Do I wish Hermione and I had met under different circumstances, perhaps outside the classroom setting, for one? Absolutely.
But to say that I wish we hadn’t fallen in love in the manner in which we did would be to deny my underlying feelings and regard for her that developed over the course of that last year, before I became the Headmaster and the war broke out.
I love my wife. I cannot change that she was once my student, nor that I was once her professor.
Like Hermione, I wouldn’t go back and change it, even if I could. The idea of not having my wife and children in my life now is simply incomprehensible.