AN: I've done it. Yes I'm sorry but it had to be done. I have given in to the biggest cliché in Harry Potter fanficdom. Brief Summary: Snape needs apprentice. Hermione becomes apprentice. Apprentice and master fall in love and have lots of sex and babies….welll…kinda. Anyway, sounds familiar? Author cringes and hides face in shame. That said, please read!
"Excuse-me sir –"
"No."
"But sir –"
"No."
"Well that's not fair."
With a sigh, Snape looks up at me from his grading. "Life isn't fair, Miss Granger."
I frown. "You remind me of my mother."
I notice his mouth twitch at the corner before he comments dryly, "Well, I bet she's an attractive woman."
I can't help but chuckle quietly. It seems the slimy git has a sense of humour. "I just want a chance, Professor. It's tradition that each teacher takes on an assistant. I'm a seventh year and I'm more qualified than any other – "
"Silence!" Snape spits at me, rising to his feet. Actually forget the humour…just a slimy git. "Do you honestly think I would take on you as my apprentice? It is tradition for myself that I take on a Slytherin each year. Someone much less interfering and conceited than you."
All right, I'll admit, I can be interfering, but conceited? Since when am I conceited? I make a haughty noise then argue back, "Well tradition also dictates that you take on the most able student in your class, and I'm sure Dumbledore would agree."
Rubbing his face in one hand, Snape puts his quill back down on the desk. "Why, if I may ask Miss Granger, do you wish to be my apprentice? Is it simply to irritate me, because I must say you are doing an admirable job at that already..."
"No," I begin slowly, ignoring his second jibe about my personality and explain: "To be accepted into Salem's After-school of Witchcraft and Wizardry, if I wish to take a course in Healing, I need to have taken a class of Advanced Potions with top grades and to have worked for a year as a Potions Master's apprentice."
"The answer is no," Snape says simply, sitting back down, picking up his quill and returning to grading. I wish he'd stop doing that. It's getting very tiresome.
"Sir, please."
Snape looks up. I can see he's slightly shocked that I'm actually pleading with him. And yes, ok, I, Hermione Granger, have resorted to pleading. Desperate times call for desperate measures. He sighs. "And what personal gain will I achieve from this apprenticeship, Miss Granger?"
Smiling slightly, I say, "Well you'll never have to clean out another cauldron again." Obviously he doesn't respond well to jokes and after seeing his stony face, I continue, "I'm to help you do whatever you need me to, and during free periods I come down to the dungeons and help monitor your classes. And as I am, excuse me, slightly more able than any other student, I will be able to brew any potions you need me to." I pause. "It'll make your job a fair bit easier."
Neither of us speaks for a moment, then Snape finally mutters, "I can't believe I'm even considering this."
"You're – you're considering me, sir?"
Snape's cheeks colour slightly and he clears his throat. "Well, it so happens that you're the only student who has asked me."
My insides are twisting and the realisation of what he's saying begins to sink in: he has to accept me. I'll get to be an actual assistant! And sure, maybe a year with Snape won't be fun, but then I'll get to go to Salem's After-school, the best Magical After-school in the world, with the most talented witches and wizards. They have the hugest labs there where all sorts of magical experiments –
"Miss Granger! Will this be a periodic thing? Because if you continue to daydream while I am speaking to you then I am afraid that it will be frankly dangerous for you to become a Potions Master's apprentice."
"Sorry, sir, I just…" I try to think up an excuse but fail miserably. "I won't do it again," I finish lamely.
---
"Excellent, Severus, excellent. Miss Hermione Granger is the best student in her class. I would have been very surprised if you had taken on anyone but the best," Dumbledore says. He then turns to me and smiles warmly. "Although Miss Granger, I think Professor Flitwick will be upset. I rather believe he was hoping to take you on himself."
I smile shyly back at Professor Dumbledore, who claps his hands together. "Right, well Hermione, I will have your things moved down to Severus' rooms and –"
"What?" Snape and I both cut in. Snape's rooms? No…that can't be right.
"Yes, all apprentices have adjoining rooms to their Master. Come now, Severus, you've had an apprentice before. Surely you haven't forgotten. Hermione will have her own room and bathroom connected to your suite. Which means you'll have to move your cauldron collection, Severus."
I look from Professor Snape, who is very red in the face, to Dumbledore, whose eyes are twinkling most merrily. A cauldron collection? I almost want to laugh, but realise that would not be a good idea, considering the circumstances. Then I remember that I will be sharing living quarters with Snape and the mad desire to laugh fades rather quickly.
"Right then, you're things will be moved down and you begin today. I expect you to use your free periods to help Professor Snape. You will of course have free time in the evenings to spend with your peers if Professor Snape does not need you."
I nod, quite speechless, suddenly realising just how much time I'll be spending with Snape this year. Salem's After-school of Witchcraft better be worth this.
---
"Do you find your rooms adequate, Miss Granger?" Snape asks, smirking at me over top of his Daily Prophet. I frown. The green sludge covering the bottom five inches of my robes smells and I know my face is red with annoyance: an obvious indicator that in fact, my rooms are not fine.
"The toilet's broken," I tell him. He shakes out the paper and hides his face behind it.
"Yes, I was aware of that."
That sardonic bastard. He let me go in there and flush it knowing that the thing would in fact not flush but spew up its contents, and all over me no less.
"I can call up a house elf to have it fixed," he says and I can hear the mockery in his silky voice as he suggests the use of slave labour.
"No, I – I'll fix it."
"Well, I knew you were quite talented Miss Granger. I did not however know that your skills included Muggle plumbery."
"I don't think 'plumbery' is a word sir," I say and turn my back to him, walking back to my rooms to change. I'll fix that bloody toilet; just to wipe that stupid smirk off of his face…I'll show him.
A few moments later he has entered my room (without knocking I might add), a large dusty book in his arms. He clears his throat and reads, "Plumbery: noun; the occupation of a plumber, installing and repairing pipes and fixtures for water or gas or sewage in a building." He gives me a dry look, snaps the huge dictionary closed and leaves the room, not closing the door behind him.
This is going to be a very long year.
Please review! Reviews make me happy. Happy authors write quickly. hehe, but seriously, should i keep going with this? coz im not too sure. xxx
