July 16, 2011
[Edited July 17, 2011]

This chapter was posted as "Meet the Master." It was a test run of Hermione's point of view.

Consider this chapter as a Prologue. It is written out of character for the innocent eleven-year-old Hermione. I'm keeping it because it may prove to be very useful at the end of the story.

Warning: Swearing and foul language in this chapter.

Future chapters, if this story is continued, will involve sexual encounters. If you're only here for the sex scenes, it'd be best to just head on over to my other HP fic until young Hermione grows up quite a bit. She's not going to shag Severus any time soon.

Memoirs of a Mudblood Succubus
A companion piece to Salubrious Snape Oil.

Prologue

Memory Gone Rogue
Chapter 1

Explanation
Neuropsychiatrists who study Post Traumatic Stress Disorder and similar ailments have discovered that memories are not stable. They can be changed. Every time a memory is recalled, it can be altered. Strong emotions, particularly negative ones that threaten our sense of well-being, create strong memories.

When Pessimism Changed Everything I Knew

This damn cauldron is fookin' heavy. Who the hell came up with the brilliant idea of breakin' kids backs with this pewter shit?

I nearly walked right off of those trick stairs. That would'a been a piggin' sight to see. Granger splattered on the castle floor. Too bad wizards are 'fraid of dogs. You'd think it'd be useful to have a Jezebel-licker around for catastrophic falls down seven stories.

Maybe that Filch bloke is a dog. Mr. Filch and Mrs. Norris. Mum and Dad will be happy to hear that being magical really means living in my so-not-favourite movie, The Adventures of Milo and Otis. Pardon me while I spew my guts into my cauldron. It might come in handy after all.

Potter seems to know where he's going. The Weasley guy, well, he is cute in a way but he treats me like shit. I don't know what the fuck his problem is. Is it me? 'Cause I get the feeling that everyone pretty much wishes I'd just go home. 'Kinnell! Why'd I have to start thinkin' 'bout home right before class?

More stairs? Dungeons? Haven't they taken the castle motif just a bit too far? And it's cold as hell down here. I'd be pissy living down here if I was in Slytherin. Can you blame them?

How can these students show up for class without their cauldrons? They all got the shopping list. I really am the only one here with a cauldron. At least I will be prepared for class. Unlike Potter and Weasley. That red-head has an ugly scowl.

Sigh. I could really use a nap before going to the library. Is this class ever going to start?

So this is the dreaded Potions Master, blustering into the class late. A jaded man with a dark secret. That's my guess.

Damn, this guy can give a speech. "Foolish wand-waving" to "ensnaring the senses" … sign me up for the poetry club. "Bottle fame"? No, thank you. "Brew glory"? I'll pass. "Stopper death"? Sounds useful.

Oh, shit, no! Did he really just call me a dunderhead. Me and my classmates? This is war. I did not ride a stupid train and get into a dumb boat to attend an insane boarding school just to be called a dunderhead!

Oh, goody. Attendance. I wonder if drumming my fingers is annoying Weasley. Maybe I should paint my nails bright red. But I don't do nail polish. Hell, I didn't even brush my hair this morning. And I slept in my robe. As if you've never done that-

"Her … my … omy-"

The man delivers the greatest speech I've ever heard in my entire eleven years of life and then he can't even say a simple name from a Shakespeare play.

"Hermione," I correct Professor Snape.

Wrong move, I guess. What's with all the rotten moods at this school?

Oh. So now he goes after Potter. The "celebrity". Something doesn't add up, here. If he really thinks Potter should be treated like all the rest of us, why is he deliberately calling attention to him? I'm going to figure this one out. Mental worklist compiled. I'll fit it in somewhere.

Ooh, I know the answer to this question! I shall prove it: I am not a dunderhead. Great, he only wants Potter to answer.

Yes, I know this one, too. Huff. If I stretch my hand really, really high in the air … okay, maybe I can stand up a little bit. You know, half-stand, half-sit kind of thing … movement always catches a teacher's attention. Except not this guy.

Oh, thank you, Potter, for telling him I have my hand up. But no, he insults me?

Yes, I knew that answer. I knew the answers to all of those questions. If he would'a let me answer them … but, no. It's all about Potter. But I guess it should be that way. He is a celebrity. I have my own clipping collection just about him. I'll have to start one on this teacher, too. Maybe. If I have time. Like I ever have time. Sigh.

Finally. Class dismissed. Oh, not carrying the cauldron again. Damn it.

Author Note continued:

Despite practically stealing the title from Memoirs of a Geisha, the story is unrelated to that novel, other than being written in first person. The storyline is based on my own Severus-centric fan fiction in progress, Salubrious Snape Oil. Here we find out Hermione's story (only so far as her relationship with Severus). Hermione narrates in a linear storyline, unlike SSO, in which she shows up in different ages and any damn time she pleases. In other words, in Memoirs, older Hermione won't show up until she's, well, older.

Most characters, settings and plot elements are based entirely upon J. K. Rowling's Harry Potter novel series. Some original characters and plot will be introduced. This, like all my fan fiction, is written for pleasure, amusement and development of writing skills.