A/N: This is my first fic after a six year long hiatus. I'm now twenty and I'm inclined to believe my writing has changed just a bit from when I was fourteen, so I've changed accounts.

I've always enjoyed Snape, but it wasn't till after the seventh book that I felt that he was my favorite character. Now that the final movie is out, I feel the need to write about him. Life had gotten in the way of writing for quite a while, but now I finally have time, inspiration, and the proper ridiculous friends to blackmail me into continuing.

Please keep in mind that I do not have a beta reader and that I am American. I'm not going to try and make my writing sound more british, because I've tried and it failed stupendously. If you would like to beta read for me or brit-pick, that would be much appreciated. You can put that in a review or pm me.

I really hope you like it, and please whether you liked it, hated it, or loved it, review it! Reviews keep me alive and make me a better writer.

Disclaimer: I don't own Harry Potter... but I do own a 10'x5' canvas poster from Deathly Hallows Part One thanks to my neighborhood theater.

It was not what one would call a pleasant evening. The air was thick and the halls seemed almost darker than the night before. Never-the-less, it was an environment that he considered safe.

Severus Snape was not the average war hero. True, he had been instrumental in the Dark Lord's demise; also true, he had helped Harry Potter to realize what had to be done to defeat him. However, Severus sought neither fame, nor glory-only the isolation he had grown so accustomed to. He wanted nothing more but to shrink back to the solitude of his quiet house at Spinner's End and spend the rest of his days drowning in fire whiskey and misery. But for now, one would find said man in his chambers at Hogwarts, his home of sorts for far too long.

If one went looking for the tired potions master, they would find him in his cheerless chambers within the castle's dungeons, furiously scratching away at an unfortunate student's parchment. The student who had the misfortune of having their essay marked this fine evening would not find themselves pleased with the marks they received. It wasn't the atrocious weather, the upcoming exams, or sheer number of cauldrons that had exploded that day alone. No, it was a silly girl whose only mission was to pester him to the brink of madness.

She was the young and vibrant new addition to Hogwarts staff. And she had made it her mission to befriend him. At a very young twenty-one, the woman had been the youngest professor to walk the halls, save for him. She was the same age he had been when he assumed his post of professor. While his reasons for accepting the post came from trauma and desperation, she had no such reasons. She found the world of academia to be "inspiring and enlightening." He sneered at the thought. Inspiring indeed.

She had caught him at dinner one evening during her first week and began to gush about why she had been so interested in the position as Charms professor. "I've always just loved school. Whenever I had too much to deal with and my world was crashing around me, I found solace in learning…"

Who knows how long the insufferable woman had kept on her monologue. He had stopped paying attention with in the first few moments.

Ironically enough, that woman had been the only staff member to even talk to him when he returned to teaching. He had spent over three months in the hospital wing after his near death experience with Nagini. He shuddered, brushing away the thought quickly. Most didn't even know that he had lived much less that he would return to teaching. The morning he walked through the doors of the great hall dressed in his usual teaching robes came as a shock to more than a few staff members. Still, the news of his true involvement in the war changed little when it came to other's treatment of him. Most avoided him like that plague as usual, and those who tried to be friendly and perhaps strike up a conversation didn't last long. It wasn't long before no one spoke to him, and he was content in that. It had been three years since the Battle of Hogwarts, and he had truly been quite happy not talking to his fellow teachers and being overly harsh to the dunderheads he taught. Oh, he had not been welcoming to her. He criticized her lack of experience, her horrendous teaching skills, and abhorrent choice of friends, but she seemed almost pleased. She would just laugh or smile up at him as if he had complemented her. Was she daft? Of course not! She just delighted in tormenting him, for that was the only logical conclusion. Even though he gave her neither warm replies nor any reasons at all to converse with him, she was determined at the very least to talk at him.

She would plop herself in a chair next to him at dinner (and breakfast when she caught him) and immediately start in on her day. She would occasionally ask him questions and for his thoughts on a subject, but he simply responded with either a glared or a shake his head. He would never understand this woman. Why did she insist on this overly friendly nonsense? It had been almost an entire year of her constant twittering and still he didn't have a clue of what to make of her. She was transparent as glass and as thick as cement in the same moment, and he had no idea how to handle it. It wasn't so much that she was not bright, she had earned the "brightest-witch-of-her-year" title. He admitted it freely. She was brilliant, beautiful, generally too happy to be considered human, and for some reason she had made it her mission to befriend him. He let out a ragged sigh.

It was because of the woman's puzzling enthusiasm that he was grading the essays before him with a more… critical eye. And, for the record, he was not taking particular notice of the mistakes of Gryffindors. To do such a thing would be unethical. He set another essay aside and moved on to the next. Reading the first line of the essay he sighed, dipped his quill in ink, and scratched a sloppy "T" into the margin. He tried to concentrate on the papers, but she kept invading his poorly occupied mind. Blasted woman.

And she would be there any moment.

He didn't know what he was thinking when he agreed to help her, but it was exactly ten seconds after the words left his mouth that he realized it had been a tremendously bad idea.

She sat next to him as usual, but the lack of incessant chatter was immediately apparent. She looked a bit… tired, for lack of a more fitting term. He should have been rejoicing in the silence, but he found he was more curious than elated. She spoke barely two words together and mostly pushed her food around her plate. After her unusually short dinner, she hurried out of the Great Hall without so much as a good bye. Considering she talked him to near deafness every other evening for the past months, this sudden change peaked his curiosity. But, despite her behavior he made no move to ask anyone about it and went straight to his chambers after eating. He would not waste another moment thinking about it.

It was a few minutes after two in the morning when a quiet knock at his chamber door woke him. He jumped from the bed, cursing. With all those years as a spy, the quietest damn thing would wake him. He moved towards the door thinking that he might as well hex whoever it was while he was up. He reached the door and flung it open, putting on his famous death glare. Oh, how he hoped he would be taking points from Gryffindor this early in the day. The harsh words he had prepared died on his throat as he stared out into the corridor. He stood at the door in shock for a moment before composing himself. She was at his door at two in the morning. He suddenly had the urge to take her by the shoulder and shake her repeatedly.

"Professor Granger," he drawled out, "Is there some logical reason as to why you are currently standing at my door at two in the morning?" If there was anything that irritated him more than an insufferable know-it-all, it was an insufferable know-it-all that woke him in the middle of the night. He was too busy thinking of ways to seek revenge to notice her expression at first glance. After a moment of contemplating possible plans for retribution, he took a good look at her. Her cheeks were flushed, and her eyes were blood shot. He paled. He had no idea how to react to this woman in normal circumstances; he was really out of his depth now. She seemed to be staring intently at the floor of the hall, her embarrassment and nervousness almost tangible. He attempted to soften his tone, but it more than likely came off as harsh and snarky as usual. He had never been very accomplished at playing nice. "Granger?" She looked up at him before quickly rubbing both her eyes with the heels of her hands. It seemed she was trying to will the tears away. He went with what seemed to be his only course of action and moved aside, motioning for her to enter. She quickly entered, avoiding looking at him. She sat down in a chair near the fireplace and released a long sigh as her shoulders sagged.

"I'm sorry Professor, but I had no idea who else to come to." She made a point to look into the flames, the light dancing across her face. "It's horrible." She leaned forward and covered her face with her hands, her elbows resting on her knees. His gaze slowling lowered from her face down. It was then that he noticed what she was wearing. A short, and fairly transparent, night dress. The hem of the dress only went down to her mid thigh and hitched up as she sat down, making it difficult to concentrate once more on not staring. Her creamy skin glowed in the firelight as she sat back and began to play with a strand of her brown hair, obviously trying to figure out where to start or what to say. With that dress on, her frizzy and messy hair spilling over her shoulders, and sitting in his chambers in the firelight, it was a continuous struggle to convince himself that the image did nothing for him. Honestly. She was a colleague, and half his age, not to mention insufferable. She began to speak again and he forced himself to look away from her shapely legs.

"I've been having nightmares. Terrible nightmares. I've had them ever since I came back here. I mean, It's not every night. I'm blessed with nice dreams on occasion." she stool a glance at him with what appeared to be a blush gracing her cheeks. It was more likely to be the fire, though. "I delt with the dreams after the war, but coming here made them so much worse." She stood, raking a hand through her tangled locks. "Being here and seeing this place again has brought everything back I guess. Sometime I feel that I can see all of it as though I am seeing it for the first time. Please…" she trailed off, looking straight into his eyes. With a wild look in her eyes, she suddenly moved to sit next to him on his couch. "Professor, I'm fairly talented at all I put my mind to, but I'm no potions mistress and I was wondering if you knew of anything that could help me. Perhaps we could work to devolpe something to help not only myself, but others who fought in the war. I can't shake these nightmares, and I'm starting to fear for my health, if not my sanity." She looked so vulnerable then, sitting next to him. He could see the beginnings of fresh tears prickling at the corners of her eyes again.

"Professor Granger-"

She gave out a laugh then, cutting him off. "It's Hermione. We've been working together for months now and I've come to your rooms in the middle of the night. I think we've reached that point." She gave him a watery smile.

He could almost feel heat rising to his cheeks. He was her ex-Professor though, and almost twice her age. Old enough to be her father. He had seen and done things in his life that most people could hardly fathom. He wasn't affected by her as if he were some school boy crushing on a pretty girl out of his league. At least, that's what he tried to convince himself. "Hermione, then, you are well known for being quite keen on research, surely you have come across many potions that would help. There is no reason for you to need my assistance." She took a deep breath at that and lowered her head.

"You are correct on that count, Professor. I-"

"Severus"

She looked a bit startled. "I'm sorry?"

He sighed. "If you insist for me to address you by your first name, then you might as well address me in the same fashion. We are colleagues after all." He almost rolled his eyes at his last statement. It was still hard to think of the young woman as anything but a ridiculous Gryffindor, determined to run his class and break rules, but he had to admit she had grown up. She seemed pleased by this turn of events and continued on.

"Severus…" His name on her lips was cruel. He didn't know exactly why, but he could feel something like a knife dig into his chest when she uttered it. Just what was he thinking, letting her talk to him so familiarly? "It's true that I have looked through all of the books at quite a few libraries on the subject, but I couldn't find anything that would suit my needs. Most are dangerous and the user may easily grow dependent on the potion. That is the last thing I want. Truly, Severus, I wasn't looking to see if you knew of one that would work, but to ask if perhaps you would work with me to try and discover some method that would help me while not causing harm. Perhaps something that would let me control the dream when I thought a dream was turning into a nightmare. I don't know if I'm even making sense right now. It's just… this last one has really shaken me."

He knew that it took a lot for her to overcome her Gryffindor stubbornness to ask for help. He should have mocked her mercilessly for not being able to complete her task alone, and thrown her out. He should have thrown out some sort of snarky, biting, response, sure to make her cringe. But he didn't. "Alright Hermione. I'm sure there are many more war veterans who could use a remedy to their sleeping problems as well as a way to alleviate the nightmares. I will work with you." He could see her soft eyes brighten at this. "Though, we will not start on this project tonight. It's late, and some of us do not enjoy being woken at this hour." He could have sworn she turned a few shades darker. "Go get some sleep. I have enough cauldrons decimated daily by the lovely students of this school, I don't need professors coming in and taking part in the destruction." He added his trademark sneer to the last part. He didn't want her to get comfortable with him. She talked to him enough as it was. He couldn't imagine what horrors would befall him if she thought of him as a friend. She stood up abruptly from her seat, making her way over to the door.

"I doubt that I'll be able to sleep right now, Severus. I can't tell you how much this means to me." She gave him a bright smile. To his horror, it looked for a moment if she might hug him. He began to back pedal. He had a reputation to protect.

"Don't go getting any ideas, Granger. I've been asked by many healers at St. Mungo's to look into this over the years. You were just the last straw." Her smile stayed in place, obviously not taken back by his attitude.

"Don't worry Snape, I know better than to suspect favoritism." She said with a laugh in her voice. She walked out his door and into the hallway and turned to face him.

"Glad we are on the same page." He replied, rolling his eyes. "We may meet tomorrow evening after dinner to discuss this further." She gave a slight nod.

"That sounds good. Well, goodnight Severus." She began to walk down the hall before turning to him once more. "And thank you." He stood there in his door way looking after her until she was out of sight.

She really was insufferable.

And here he was. He was waiting impatiently for the woman to get there and was trying to grade essays to take his mind off of it. This only made things worse, and didn't help the students' grades either. She was late. He was very punctual himself and couldn't understand why anyone would be late for any sort of arrangement, unless they were heading off to be kissed by a dementor. He supposed he wouldn't want to be on time for that. He gave a loud sigh and threw the quill onto his desk. Ridiculous! How could she get up extraordinarily early just to catch him at breakfast, but when he was finally waiting for her, she's late? It was completely unfair!

Sure enough, a quiet, familiar, rapping was heard at his door not a moment later. He rose from his desk rather abruptly and made his way to the door, flinging it open with a bit more force than necessary. "You. Are. Late." He glared pointedly at her. She looked entirely unaffected, though.

"You said after dinner. You never specified an exact time, and I had to gather my books." She said brushing a piece of hair over her shoulder. He almost thought she looked down right amused.

He rolled his eyes at the rather impressive stack of books that were hovering behind her and moved to the side to let her in. "Let's get started, then." He pointed to a door on the far right of the room. "That door leads to the lab. You may find a place to put your books there. I will be there in a moment." He needed a drink. She was pushing his buttons and had only been in his presence a few minutes. This couldn't possibly end well.

He entered the lab a few moments later, carrying a few books from his private library. He stopped short when he got a good look at Granger. He almost started sputtering out some sort of questioning nonsense, but took a deep breath instead.

Professor Granger was not wearing appropriate potion brewing attire.

He glared at her pointedly before going to put his books down on an unused counter. She was wearing a dress that hung to her every curve and stopped just above her knees. He began to think she was doing this on purpose. That thought in mind, he hoped she would not need to be bending over to pick anything up.

"Well Severus, where should we start?" She asked, stretching her arms above her head and yawning. He could have sworn his eye twitched. That damn dress. She gave him a rather curious look and he realized that he had frozen on the spot, staring blatantly at her thighs. She began to fiddle with a strand of hair. "I realize what I'm wearing isn't the usual attire for potion making, but if we do start testing I want to be comfortable for sleeping. I'll be putting an apron on when and if we begin brewing, of course." She proceeded to take a hair-tie from around her wrist and pull her hair up into a high pony tail. She had a bag along with the stack of books and began to rifle through it, finally pulling out an apron. She pulled it over her head and tied the back before looking back to him. "Severus?" She gave him a curious look. "We are starting soon aren't we?" Apparently he had been caught staring. Again. He wasn't staring though. He was just thinking about why she had brought an apron with her instead of coming in appropriate attire and just happened to be staring intently at her legs and possibly her chest. He cleared his throat.

"Yes, we'll be starting now Granger." He sat down on a stool next to her and began picking up a few books. "You do realize that we need to do quite a bit more research before we start the brewing process, don't you? Even a Gryffindor would realize that you can't just jump head first into a project of this nature. And, when we get to start brewing, we won't immediately just start getting you to down it like pumpkin juice. Please think things thought when you are dressing next time." He gave her a glance out of the corner of his eye and started flipping through pages of an issue of The Practical Potioneer. He noticed a slight pink tint to her cheeks and the corners of his mouth twitched. Mission accomplished. "We need to be looking for attributes in various potions that serve our purposes and ways to add those attributes to one potion, while attempting to reduce any and all negative side effects. You aren't going to find directions on how to do this in Hogwarts: A History or any of the other utter rubbish you seem to enjoy." He gave her a cold stare. She sent him a glare right back, not backing down in the slightest.

"I realize that! I was just… I'm rather desperate to get rid of the nightmares or at the very least get some sleep, and I was just not thinking when I got dressed. I didn't want to stay in my teaching robes. They're too constricting." Her face had gone a shade darker as she spoke and he took pride in knowing that he had caused this reaction. He smirked.

"Well Hermione," her name slipped of his tongue in an almost seductive manner. "You should think before you wear such suggestive attire," he leaned towards her giving her his best seductive smirk, "or you may give a man the wrong idea." He smirked at her stunned expression before turning back to his reading. Wait. Where on earth had that come from? Suggestive attire? Had he really just said that? Say something insulting! Quick! "Well, if you want to be some sort of help when you are finished acting like a gaping fool, you can start going through these books and compiling lists of potions that have the effects we are looking for. The Draught of Peace would be a good place to start." She seemed to blink a few times taking in all of the information before quickly opening one of the books in front of her.

Four full hours had passed in silence in the potions lab. The list was growing exponentially and still there wasn't much of a dent in the reading material. So many potions had similar effects, that many on the list were almost repeats of a previous one. They supposed they would get to that later. Hermione stretched and waved her wand lazily. "Mmm…" she stretched again, "I think it is time we call it a night, Severus."

"Yes, I think that we have gotten all we can for now. We will have more time to dedicate to this over the weekend. Would you like to start again on Saturday?" He almost gave a sort of hopeful look, but skillfully held it back. He was not hopeful for this girl to take up his time on a Saturday. Lost in his thoughts, he almost didn't hear her reply.

"That sounds agreeable. I think we made significant progress tonight, even if we have quite a bit of work ahead of us."

He almost snorted. "I think we have much more than a 'bit' of work ahead of us. I'm warning you now Granger, this is going to be a long project with hard work and will take more than a little time." He raised an eyebrow as if to challenge her.

She gave him a bright smile. "I'm ready for it." Damn her and her Gryffindor brazenness. She quickly stacked her books and put her apron back into her bag and stepped toward the door. "See you Saturday, Severus." She gave him and smile and pulled the door open.

"Granger-"

She twirled around. "Yes?" He couldn't place the expression on her face.

"We haven't discussed a time and we need to decide due to your obvious problem with punctuality." He said smirking. Her expression changed to one of mild aggravation and her hands moved to her hips. "I think that meeting here at eight AM sharp would be acceptable." She groaned but accepted, then turned back to the door and left hastily. He knew she loathed getting up in the morning on Saturdays. He felt almost gleeful as he collected all of the books and began to put them back.

At least she would make things interesting.