Disclaimer:- My plot is mine, however, I neither own nor earn anything from this story. Harry Potter and his world are the intellectual property of J.K. Rowling and her affiliates.

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A/N:- I wish to explain something to you dear readers before you read this story. This was the very first HP story I ever wrote, I abandoned it two thirds the way through and started to write 'The Tedium of Time', and I borrowed heavily from this story for Tedium, so to those kind souls who have read 'The Tedium of Time' I feel that I should say, there will be scenes in this story that will feel familiar, this is an entirely different story to Tedium but there are similarities. In fact the story has the same feel as Tedium has, to me anyway, even though it is set after Hermione's schooling, but unlike Tedium there are no other pairings (although other relationships exist within the story) It is strictly a SS/HG, except maybe with a hint of AD/MM.

Of course it goes without saying that this is a SS/HG ROMANCE, it is AU and OCC and there will be lemons at some point. Also it is by no means canon compliant. If any of this bothers you, please just move on to another story. Just saying

I would also like to mention that the storyline alludes to torture and rape, but there is nothing graphic depicted, just a warning for anyone sensitive (I know I like to be warned of these things)

Many thanks to Golden Asp for betaing this.

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Chapter I – An unexpected reaction

Hermione Granger arrived at the Apparition boundary of Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, wishing she could have just apparated straight to the castle. She was late, and knew she had taken too long to make her decision, and that wasn't even mentioning the fact that she was still entirely unsure that she should have come back at all.

After years of disillusioned confusion she had become lethargic and a sense of defeat had finally overtaken her, seeming to seep into the very marrow of her bones, usurping all other sensation. Mind you, she had accomplished a lot of deep thinking about her place in the world during that time, and she had finally given in to the pull of her magic and decided to answer Septima Vector's latest owl.

Since she had distanced herself from the magical world, her former professor's owls had been arriving fairly regularly, and even though she had never responded to one of them it seemed that the professor still wanted to offer Hermione an apprenticeship.

Hermione had to admit to being very touched by her former professor's faith in her; she was entirely unsure she could actually manage to face the pain that she felt would assault her daily from her experiences at the end of the war… and subsequently her final year at Hogwarts, or for that matter if studying Arithmancy would actually satisfy her. She had an affinity for the subject but she most certainly did not love it as she did Potions.

The only thing that truly brought her mind to life was Potions, regardless of how the Hogwarts Potions master had pushed her aside, berated and belittled her with his special mix of caustic comments. No matter how he rebutted her—especially during her disastrous last year—his class had remained her favourite. He had always been her favourite teacher although she could never work out why; Severus Snape was the most exasperating man she had ever had to deal with.

It was one of the reasons Hermione had retreated to the Muggle world. After everything that had happened she didn't have the courage left for another rejection, so she had never asked him for an apprenticeship. Even though Professor McGonagall had actively pushed her to follow her dream, she was painfully aware that Severus Snape just did not take apprentices.

She knew he had even turned Draco Malfoy away, and Hermione had always thought Malfoy was one of his favourite student. To make it even more confusing she had learnt after leaving Hogwarts, that Draco was in fact the Potion master's godson.

To his credit, the man had arranged for Draco's apprenticeship with another master, and although Hermione knew that with her NEWT scores it would have been easy for Professor McGonagall to find another master of Potions to take her on, and indeed her head of house had offered, but after everything that had happened she just didn't have it in her to start again somewhere else. Even a Gryffindor's courage wasn't limitless, and she was already hiding enough pain from people, she couldn't have dealt with anymore.

So, after discussions with her parents she had decided to do the next best thing and complete a degree in Organic Chemistry in the Muggle world, even though deep within herself she knew she was doing the wrong thing allowing her parents to convince her to attend a Muggle University. The main reason she took their advice was that after the horror of the war against Voldemort, Hermione really wished to put everything else out of her mind, and thus reasoned that a break from the wizarding world may ground her a little.

The university requested she sit an entrance exam, as for some reason it appeared that her academic record had been misplaced. Of course Hermione knew the reason. She could have used magic to confound them, but the young woman reasoned that she would only be harming herself if she didn't remember enough of her Muggle Chemistry to gain entry, so she sat the exam, and despite her state of mind she passed with flying colours, as anyone who knew her would expect.

However, entering the Muggle world once more had proven a huge mistake. After really not having lived in their world for eight years Hermione found it was now a far too uncomfortable and foreign existence for her. Everyone seemed to get on her nerves with their petty problems and tempers; after all, Hermione had fought in a war beside her fellow witches and wizards before she had graduated from school, for Merlin's sake. She often caught herself thinking, Goodness, was I ever as shallow as these people?

This comment was often followed by, and what is that girl wearing, surely that's indecent? During her time in the wizarding world, Hermione had become used to the Victorian style of dress, and even though she hadn't embraced it, she had thought about doing so, quite often in fact.

The outfits she often saw women wearing in the Muggle world just made her cringe at their inability to cover a girl's dignity. Worse still, the entire time Hermione constantly felt the push to go back to her magic. She even locked her wand away to try and escape its pull, and was shocked and a little horrified to find that it called to her like a child in distress. After a time, she found she was forced to use her wand to sate the excess magic that built up inside her.

Some more soul searching followed, and then another owl from Professor Vector and this led to some serious discussion with her academic advisors and she was accelerated to complete her degree ahead of time.

So, here she was. Hermione sighed as she looked up at the huge castle. And now I'm staring another destiny in the face. This one will almost certainly contain all those very painful memories images and feelings that even after three years I haven't been able to shift from my mind.

"I must be mad! What's drawn me back to this place?" Her muttered thoughts were like shards of ice from a tree in winter, and they jarred and fractured what little resolve she had left.

After the war against Voldemort was won Hermione had decided, no matter how broken she was, she was going to complete her magical education. After all that was what she had fought for, but the going had been tough, but it could have been a lot worse. At least her two former friends had taken the Ministry's offer to war veterans, but there were still so many raw wounds, hurts and friends lost. Nevertheless she had ploughed through that last year and graduated.

After that she knew that a little distance for a while might be a good thing, but her experiences at the Muggle university hadn't solved anything, and it instantly hit her full force now exactly how entirely misguided she had been. Standing at the gates, she suddenly realised that the combination of that now familiar, queasy nausea and a definite sense of home were fighting for supremacy in her stomach.

This sense of home didn't stop her hitting the gates in frustration, because they were locked. She was late, and she couldn't get in. She watched as said barred entrance gave off a shimmer of blue light, complete with sparks and a dull clang in protest as she felt the magic prickle at her hand.

All she could do was send her Patronus ahead and wait until someone came. Pulling her wand from her robes she concentrated on something vaguely happy, and hoped for the best.

"Expecto Patronum," she muttered and actually jumped when the wispy blue otter sprang to life from its end. The fact that she had not been able to think of anything like a happy thought before uttering the spell made her surprised that her Patronus had actually appeared at all as she watched it cavort in front of her. She gave her message to the playful little creature, and it sped off up the drive to deliver it. Hermione hadn't thought to ask it to find someone specific, there was only the vague thought that anyone would do at this late hour.

Hermione watched after the trail of blue, and near the top she saw it stop then a moment later dissolve. Someone had received her message, she hoped they wouldn't take too long though as it was getting very cold. She was very shaken. She had forgotten how beautiful a Patronus was and wandering over to the grumpy wooden seat by the gate she sank down onto it.

Of course the seat complained. "Uff, don't ask first, will you?"

"Oh shut up," she replied irritated, her mind and body were now in complete turmoil, and her stomach was rolling mutinously. She had to smile though when she heard Crookshanks joining in, howling and spitting in bad temper in his carrier, at least she had someone in accord with her.

Then her mind went back to the wisp of blue disappearing up the drive. The witch hadn't seen her Patronus for some time, and couldn't help thinking that even though it still rollicked and played as always that its eyes reflected the emptiness and bone-chilling loneliness she felt. She hugged her arms around herself, as if trying to protect the remnants of her shattered heart and soul as she fought the sting of tears that she knew wouldn't come, while she waited in the cold September evening.

It appeared autumn was upon them with vengeance, as the cold was quickly seeping into every pore, and she could feel a slight chill on the back of her neck.

Hermione wondered if her bone crushing fatigue was simply tiredness, or was it hunger, nerves and everything at the same time. Then she found herself concentrating on a tiny light as she made out a luminous wand tip coming into focus. Then she heard the faint crunch of strides on the gravel as the owner of the boots came towards her down the drive, she sighed, knowing she would be admitted.

The Gryffindor witch had not even given a thought to who might come, and suddenly found herself curious as to which individual had answered her plea. Whoever it was they had not seen fit to respond to her message before heading towards her, but she was at the point of not caring.

The seconds ticked by and she found a sound slowly invading her consciousness, a moment later she found herself sitting bolt upright and fighting to stay still, as drawing a quick gasp of recognition she heard the all too familiar ominous rustle of a certain person's robes.

Even after three years absence it was a sound that still sent shivers through her as it had for the years whist she was a student here, as he had slunk with cat-like stealth around his lab. The only indication he was near being the slight rustle of his robes and the intoxicating mixture of herbs, sandalwood and smoke that followed him as he appeared to watch and wait for the tiniest error before pouncing with the before mentioned feline grace of attack.

Abruptly Hermione's stomach twisted. What the hell was that? That's a feeling I haven't felt since... Oh God! Hermione fought the urge to actually leave. If he still hates me, I can't handle that again.

She rose shakily from her seat, she was now feeling completely at sea; surely she didn't still have a crush on her former Potions master. Hermione reluctantly forced her feet to move back towards the gate, desperately not wanting to think what she was starting to realise, as she watched the light drew closer.

The moon suddenly burst through the clouds and cast its shimmering glow on the situation, and as she raised her head on reaching the gates it dawned vaguely that she was staring up into his fathomless dark eyes, eyes that seemed to register surprise and something else before they settled back into their usual cool stare.

Eyes that instantly sent shivers of the kind she didn't want to think about through her, some undefined feeling that quivered somewhere below her navel in the pit of her stomach. She had felt it many times in her last year as a student, but had never had the courage to find an explanation for it, but now her mind had just put a name to it.

Did she have the courage to continue now? No, her head screamed at her. No, no, NO! Hermione suddenly realised there was another voice now crying to be heard inside as she stood transfixed, gazing into his eyes, was it her heart? She had heard that strangled voice before and she did now what had done then, she ignored it.

After a brief moment and a barely audible intake of breath the trade-mark eyebrow rose and his silky baritone drawled in clipped tones. "Miss Granger?"

Hermione's stomach lurched again, and the richness of his voice made the shiver in the pit of her stomach quiver anew, although her brain only slightly registered it as she tensed waiting for the inevitable sarcastic comment that would follow his statement.

When to her shock he refrained from continuing, and merely continued to watch her. Trying to appear calm as she could, Hermione responded, "Good evening, Professor."

His head nodded in recognition and he tapped his wand on the gates, murmuring the words that created a portal through the wards. Hermione watched as the blue shimmer drew back like curtains being opened, and while still watching her he opened one gate and ushered her through.

"I am very sorry to draw you away from the warmth of the castle on such a chilly night, Professor," she commented timidly, to try and relieve the awkward silence.

Much to her surprise, her former professor again refrained from commenting further and simply answered cordially, "I was on my way to the Forbidden Forest when your Patronus intercepted me." After a slight pause he added, "So it was no trouble." He seemed to be appraising her as he surveyed her from head to toe while tapping the gates again so they resumed their former state.

Hermione visibly shivered as the backlash of magic rippled past her senses. He saw this and his expression changed for a moment into something undefined, but then her head lowered.

"I am certain your former head of house is awaiting your arrival in her rooms," he stated, not all together unkindly. "You should hurry, it is quite cold tonight."

This confused Hermione slightly, surely he meant Professor Vector, but there was no way she was feeling brave enough to disagree with him. She might have been a Gryffindor but she was no fool, only those with a death wish were that stupid. Hermione was intensely aware she was still under his appraising gaze, then in the blink of an eye, as suddenly as his almost cordial remarks had impressed her, she heard him mutter coolly.

"Good evening, Miss Granger." His having patience seemed to unexplainably evaporate, he abruptly turned on his heel and stalked off into the forest beside the path.

Professor Snape's abrupt departure left Hermione standing there with her mouth open. What the hell was that? Anger started to curl out of her chest, watching as he was being rapidly swallowed up by the darkness. Then another thought came to her, he hadn't had to come and open the gates for her, he could easily have pawned her off on someone else and suddenly she found his usual abrupt coolness confusing in the light of his earlier unexpected civility.

Hermione decided she should repay his actions, and after remembering her manners, she called after him. "Good evening, Professor, and thank you." She saw the shadowy figure come to an abrupt halt and appear to stiffen, before recovering to resume his steam engine like progress into the forest and out of her sight.

She stood watching where he had disappeared for some time, before reaching into her robes, drawing her wand and muttering, 'Lumos,' before she started up the drive. She made slow progress, turning every once in a while trying to understand the unexplained empty feeling that his departure had given her. Hermione found if she looked to the place where she had last seen him the sensation abated a little, but she also kept looking over her shoulder with the strange feeling she was being watched. Then shrugging, she thought to herself, Don't be stupid you're just being paranoid.

xox

Severus Snape stood leaning up against a tree, out of sight as he watched the young woman's progress up the drive. He was softly knocking the back of his head on the rough bark. What's going to happen to her now in light of what occurred yesterday? he wondered. He looked after her once again, and groaned. The fact that she was here again filled him with horror. How am I going to deal with this? I bet Dumbledore is responsible for this. Damn, the old meddler and his confounded plans, screwing around with the young woman's life, just like he does to everybody. He ducked his head further back into the shadows each time she turned around, it was almost like she could feel his regard and it struck him that there were not many people who were that perceptive.

While he was watching her at the gate he had noticed that she looked so tired and drained, like she hadn't slept well for a long time, and he didn't want to admit how much that had bothered him. Her eyes were sunken, and darkened with black circles. He had always envied her the life in those pretty brown amber-flicked eyes, but during her last year here they had appeared almost as dead as his own. He had wished at the time that there had been something he could have done to help her, but that would have been inappropriate.

He pushed himself off the tree as she reached the top of the drive, and sighed. To see that nothing had changed after three years, well that was troubling, and he couldn't help pondering the circumstances that may have led to her loss of passion being so permanent as he resumed his walk towards his destination. He had heard rumours from Draco that there had been a nasty split between her, Potter and that stupid oaf Weasley, but surely that could have been fixed.

Abruptly a sudden notion terminated his train of thought. Why am I concerned, nothing has changed? Why the hell should I be troubled with Hermione Granger? She hates me, he looked to the top of the drive again. I saw her tense at the gate when she recognised me. Then something made him stop, and he muttered aloud, "But I've never given her any reason to feel any other way." Severus felt a pang of guilt at this, and then he reconciled it with his next thought. At that point she was a student—regardless of her being above age of consent in her final year—it couldn't have been any other way.

Another thing was that he had resigned himself to the fact he wouldn't survive the war, let alone have any hope for the future. The fact that he had narrowly avoided his intended fate still astounded him, but to come back to teaching and fall for the charms of Hermione Granger… he shivered, and now she was going to reside in the same castle again... He didn't even want to contemplate that, would it be a blessing or a curse?

He started walking again, only to stop with his next questioning thought. He wanted to know what had happened to her, and this scared him. That meant he was still vulnerable, that he still cared.

Oh, who am I trying to kid, of course I still care, but can I let myself? Really, out of all the people who resided in the countless rooms and halls of that enormous stone edifice to wizardry ego and short sightedness, I'm the very last person she would ever willingly confide in, let alone tell her deepest secrets to.

This hurt him more than he was able to acknowledge.He abruptly felt a pang of emotion constrict his chest and he scolded himself. "Bloody hell, man, you know she hasn't come back to you. So get a grip and deal with it," he muttered heatedly to no one in particular, but he couldn't help wondering angrily, Why the hell is fate such a nasty fucking bitch? He stalked off towards the moon flowers once more.