Disclaimer: I am not J.K. Rowling. I do not own anything even slightly related to the

copyrights of Harry Potter. I am not making any money from this.

To everyone who read this a couple of days ago: I kind of freaked out because I forgot

the disclaimer, and was afraid of getting a lawsuit slapped on me, so I took everything

down. Then, I discovered that I'd accidentally deleted Chapter 1 from my computer, so

there are some slight altercations to the first chapter. I hope I made it better though,

'cause it felt really awkward. Also, please review, and don't judge me too harshly 'cause

it's my first fanfic.

A Beginning

Hermione waited outside of Great Hall, sitting on one of the small, uncomfortable

wooden chairs. What was taking so long? The Transfiguration exam had ended five

minutes ago, and the Potion's exam had a very small group, so what was taking so long?

She thought back to how she had come to be sitting outside Great Hall. After the Last

Battle, she had asked Headmistress McGonagall if she could possibly come back to

Hogwarts and complete her 7th year. She had readily agreed, saying it was the least she

could do since Hermione had helped defeat Voldemort.

"Granger, Hermione…" floated through her agitated mind. She jumped up, and opened

the doors of Great Hall. It looked much the same as it had during her O.W.L.s. From the

same small, individual tables, to the large teacher's desk with a myriad of potion's

ingredients on it. It was almost identical. Almost. Instead of the plump, cheerful, ancient

witch sitting at the desk, there sat one of the greatest Potions Masters in the world.

Professor Snape.

He suddenly looked up at her. She froze, like a mouse caught in a snake's hypnotic gaze.

She finally broke the gaze, sitting down at the nearest table. What had been in his eyes?

She had almost thought it was guilt, but what on earth did he have to be guilty about?

This was Snape, the master of indifference, and what on earth did he have to be guilty

about regarding the loathsome know-it-all? She shook her head, as if trying to shake such

ridiculous thoughts out of her bushy head.

She took a deep breath, and looked up, folding her hands in front of her, in her perfect

"I'm here and ready to learn" look. Fortunately, he had turned his attention back to the

desk of ingredients before him. She looked around to see if everyone was settled down

yet.

She noticed a few people giving Snape uneasy looks. She rolled her eyes. The Ministry

had spent 3 weeks confirming Snape's innocence. Everyone knew that he'd killed

Dumbledore on his orders, to help save Harry, Malfoy, and Snape himself. More people

had benefited from Dumbledore's death than if he'd lived, because Snape had completely

confirmed his loyalty to Voldemort, even though he was still spying for the Order.

She shuddered to think about the different interrogation methods that the Ministry must

of used. They had not dealt kindly with any Death Eaters during, or after the War, and

Snape was Dumbledore's killer.

She turned her gaze back to the desk. There he was again, staring at her with that almost-

guilty look. This time, he broke it first. He stood up and started pacing in front of the

desk.

"I am genuinely astonished that so many of you sit her before me today." He began in his

soft, velvety voice. "Not only because of your lack of abilities, but that Longbottom did

not manage to kill at least half of you with an exploding cauldron."

Hermione snorted quietly at his exaggeration. There were only six students in the Great

Hall. The cream of the crop Potion's students. Snape was much harsher on his grading

methods than Slughorn ever had been, causing many grumbles among the students from

Slughorn's old class.

Harry had been disappointed too, but he'd quickly gotten over it. He was too busy

planning his wedding to Ginny, too be held that summer so Hermione could attend

without missing classes. Hermione loved visiting the Burrow, with Mrs. Weasley running

around with cake samples, and Ginny shoving wedding invitations in Harry's face,

demanding that he choose between off white, or cream white.

However, there was a certain emptiness to the Burrow as well, a kind of hole that Ron

had once filled. Everyone felt it, when Mrs. Weasley started to set his place at the kitchen

table, and then had to rush from the room sobbing. He had died throwing himself in front

of Harry, to save him from a Killing Curse.

Hermione almost broke down right there during Snape's endless speech of what idiots

they were. Ron had proposed to her only 2 days before his death, and she'd never given

him an answer. She'd just said, "I'll get back to you when this nightmare is over." She

took a deep, shuddering breath, and tuned back into Snape, who was just wrapping up.

"The potion you will be brewing today is the Draught of Living Death." Everyone gasped

at this news. Snape smirked at the astonishment on their faces. "Yes, I'm glad you all

understand how difficult this is going to be." He turned to walk back to his desk.

The Draught of Living Death was a potion that sent it's victims into such a deep sleep,

that many times, people mistook them for dead. Many tragic poems spoke of loving

mothers burying their supposedly dead children. It also happened to be the hardest potion

that the Ministry would allow Snape to set them as an exam.

Hermione sighed. She expected no less from a teacher like Snape. She stood up, and

began to get ready to make the potion.