A/N: Emily, thank you for betaing this for me- you're a godsend. Or something similar considering I'm atheist. Readers, any mistake left or bad writing style is purely my own, she's done a wonderful job! I shall have to lock her up somewhere so she cannot run out on me. Readers; thankyou for… well… reading!

Dedication: This is for Lilly. We had a wicked time in Barcelona where she stole all my free time by making me her own personal writing and having me do her a Dramione (represses a grimace). She also bete'd my written work while I we were there. To a great friend and a fellow writer and fanfic reader!

Disclaimer: JK is my goddess. I follow her faithfully, even if I do occasionally have her characters commit sins in my writing ;). The world is hers and we all love her for it. I'm simply having a little play. I make neither money nor anything else from this with the exception of the pleasure of writing and possible reviews. No copyright infringement intended!

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Chapter 1- Price of Apprenticeship

It was quite remarkable really, that Harry had done it. It had been a struggle, many had died on both sides; dear Ginny, George, Dennis Creevey, Hannah Abbot, Mrs Weasley, and Hagrid were among the casualties on their side. Lucius Malfoy, Rookwood, both the Lestranges and several dozen much lower ranking death eaters on the other.

Hermione had not come out unscathed off course. The dark red angry scar, which ran from her cheek to her waist, was nothing compared to the terrible grief that had gripped at her since the war- slowly turning her insides to shreds. Time is a healer. Well. She'd scoffed at that phrase when her dad had tried to comfort her. The hurt of loosing so many close friends was so real it seemed impossible that it would ever go away, or even lessen. Worse yet was that she had had to keep it hidden inside when ever she was with friends (those that were still alive at any rate) because she was supposed to be the calm logical one, and she could tell the others need her to be strong. Especially Harry. Her father was right though; time did heal her. A slow and painful year after the war and grief had stopped shredding her from within. Two years later and those rips in her were healing. She was starting to feel herself again.

Two years since the war. Two years of rebuilding. Two years of helping the ministry. Two years of helping the sick. Two years of rounding up death eaters. Two years of building funds for witches and wizards left in poverty. Two years later. Two years later and Hermione was finally ready to fallow her own desires. She'd done her bit to help, far more than many others in fact, and would still help when she could of course. Now she was healed inside, healed enough at least.

An apprenticeship. That is what she wanted; preferably in potions, though she would probably be contented with Transfiguration or Ancient Runes.

Potions however, caused a problem- Snape. Dumbledor's murderer- except it had been more euthanasia considering Dumbledor had ordered Snape to do it, even to the extent of bringing in a life debt. It had all come out in his trial with the help of some memories Dumbledor had left behind to be viewed in a pensieve, even the fact the Snape had tried to persuade Dumbledor to let him die rather than killing him. No, Snape's spying history wasn't the problem at all.

It was Snape himself that gave Hermione cause to rethink what she was about to do. He was well known for being as bitter as ever, if not more so. Hermione seriously doubted he was about to take golden trios appointed know-it-all on as his apprentice. Unfortunately for Hermione, however, he was probably the greatest potions master in the country (who was still young enough to take an apprentice and not at deaths door) and Hermione was damned if she'd through away the chance of learning from the best.

Well, that had been her reasoning at any rate. It was quite different standing outside the door to his quarters feeling remarkably like a schoolgirl again, even if she did lack the school robes and Griffindor crest.

Oh well, might as well grab the bull by the horns, or the hippogriff by the talons if you prefer wizarding terminology…

She knocked.

"Enter."

She opened the door. Snape's office was much as it had been in her youth, with slimey potions ingredients lining the walls. Snape himself was to be found sitting behind his desk marking essays. He gestured to the chair opposite with out looking up. Hermione sat down smoothing her dark green layered robes with brown embroidery. Her hair had been pulled back and tamed into a plait with a few curls falling down to frame her face. A glamour covered the scar on her face, not so much out of vanity, but Hermione found it made things easier and less uncountable for other people she was talking to. It was almost habit for her to spell one on each morning now. Almost.

Snape on the other hand, looked much as he always had- sallow skin, hooked nose, little beady black eyes and matching black curtains of hair falling across them, greasy from potion making.

"Miss Nerggra-" He started to say looking up, then gave a start when he saw who was sitting in front of him. His eyes past over what would have been visible of her scar had it not been for the glamour. Can he see it? Hermione wondered uncertainly, when his eyes still lingered there for a few seconds she started to feel ever so slightly out of her depth. She wasn't used to people commenting on it any more. But when Snape spoke it was as though the moment had not happened.

"Miss Granger" He sneered "I cannot begin to imagine what might motivate you to grace me with your company" the sarcasm on that phrase was hard to miss "but you would have done better to make an appointment, I am currently expecting some one."

"You were expecting Nihomiere Nerggra, correct?" Hermione asked patiently. Snape stared at her, frowning for a few seconds before sighing and leaning back in his chair.

"I had assumed the strange name was due to the owner of it being foreign, but I suppose it is an anagram. Perhaps you would elucidate your reason for contacting me under a false name?"

" I hardly expected you to talk with me about the possibility of an apprenticeship if you knew it was the 'granger know-it-all' whom you were in contact with"

"The fact that I wish to have no further contact with the majority of my former students, let alone one of the golden trio, is really rather a truism as you just implied. So now that I have confirmed your supposition perhaps you would desist of this façade and leave?" His words had that old dangerous yet silky quality to them, but it didn't intimidate Hermione, not any more at least.

"I could but I will not," Hermione replied stubbornly, folding her arms across her chest, "you know full well that if I were any one else my marks would have you seriously considering me by now!"

"Perhaps." He allowed grudgingly. "But as it is you I am not. Now cease wasting my time and get out!" He snarled, his patients apparently worn thin.

"Not until you consider me based on my merits rather than the title being friends with Harry has given me," she calmly refused.

"Miss Granger!" Snape barked standing up to tower over her from the other side of the desk, "This is becoming tedious! Go and find Minerva or Sinistra to pester, I am sure either would not turn down your brains- but I will not take you on as my apprentice! How can I make that more clear? Leave. Now!"

Oh for Morgana's sake! Hermione thought irritated. What's it going to take to get this git to listen? Desperate times call for desperate measures: time to appeal to his slytherin side.

"I'm sure you could think of some reason to reconsider," she suggested innocently then blushed realising how that could be interpreted "that is, I mean-"

Snape's disgusted snort told her that he had understood the reason for her embarrassment.

"I suggest in future you rephrase such offers." He drawled, but then to her surprise he sat down once more and gazed at her thoughtfully. "As it happens though, there may be something you can help me with. You are aware, I assume, that the death eater trials are nearing an end?"

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A/N: I hope that's grabbed your interest… rateing is for later on but I'm generally bad at ratings so I was being safe. I hope you enjoyed it! Feedback/comments/concrit warmly welcomed.