Ceye's note: Hello everyone, and welcome! This was written for NaNoWriMo. I do hope you enjoy the ride! First off…

The Goblet of Fire

* 1 *

"I'm back! Oh, sweet Hogwarts!"

Hermione was beyond ecstatic to be back to a learning environment after a long summer at home; she had grown up on school and studying, and thus school was where she felt most at home. The enthusiasm of her friends, Harry Potter and Ronald Weasley, however, was nowhere near as tangible as hers.

Their fourth year was about to begin at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, and there were already a number of events that had been planned for this year. For one, the Triwizard Tournament, an event that had not taken place for over a century, was going to be hosted here. They also had an…interesting new Defense Against the Dark Arts professor (who had already transfigured Draco Malfoy into a bouncing white ferret in the first day, earning him a good reputation with the Gryffindors despite his creepy, ever-swiveling blue eye) after Remus Lupin was forced to retire the previous year due to his being a werewolf now being public knowledge, thanks to a spiteful Professor Snape.

She and her friends had been terrorized on the Hogwarts Express, Hagrid had started them on caring for abysmal creatures called Blast-Ended Skrewts, and Harry and Ron were already in deplorable moods; despite all this, however, Hermione couldn't help but have a strong bout of intuition that this was going to be a good year.

Ceye's note: Now let's get started, shall we? :) Straight to the classes!

As Hermione stirred, she watched Snape glide around the classroom to inspect everyone's work, focusing primarily on that of the Gyffindors. He wrinkled his nose as he scowled at the egregious looks and smells of the hopeless, haphazard confections his class had come up with.

Hermione looked over to Draco Malfoy at the sudden sounding off of his malevolent, evil chuckle. Follow his eyes, he saw that a very hysterical Lavender Brown was casting her puffy eyes in his direction and then crying over her cauldron. It was empty.

Malfoy must've disposed of it all, Hermione thought angrily. She would've said this aloud to her friends Harry and Ron, but they were both skipping Potions that day to work on their History of Magic essays, or so they claimed. Hermione was sure they just wanted an excuse to sit out of Potions, and that she would end up doing their essays for them with enough shameless prodding.

When Malfoy caught her staring scathingly at him, he grimaced, as if viewing a detestable rodent. She mouthed "You are disgusting" at him, feeling slightly awkward without the backup of her friends, and turned her nose up in a huff before he could mouth anything back. Cautiously she began gathering a bit of her potion into a vial before the bell rang lest Malfoy vanish the contents of her cauldron, too.

Hermione was upset. She knew exactly how it felt to have a whole period's worth of work thrown away because of a stupid prank from Malfoy. And she knew Snape wouldn't do anything about it, not with his Slytherin nepotism, so she didn't even bother to point out Malfoy's deplorable antics.

Snape, as if she had said his name aloud, looked her straight in the eyes. He followed her quick, angry eyes through each movement as they darted to Malfoy, and then to a sobbing Lavender and her empty cauldron. The frown in his face deepened further with each heave of Lavender's shoulders. Coming to Hermione's desk, his cloak swishing behind him, he peered into her cauldron. He then took a single look at the contents of Malfoy's.

"Miss Granger, remain after class," he drawled, not commenting on her work and averting his eyes again. This usually meant he could find no flaw in it but, being a heartless bastard, would not compliment it, either.

Hermione lifted her gaze and was unsurprised to find Snape scowling around at the room. Growling, she stood and walked around her desk to hand to him the sample of her potion, sitting back down in her seat afterward to wait for everyone to leave. She knew Malfoy was staring at her with glee, but she wasn't going to gratify him by looking annoyed by Snape's request.

When the room was vacant beside the professor and a single confused student, Snape's towering, bat-like figure approached Hermione and he started: "Miss Granger, I must ask if my directions are truly that unclear, or does no one in your House know how to read?"

Hermione was taken aback. She thought for sure she was held there to be scolded about scowling at Malfoy.

"Your directions are very clear, sir. I think potion-brewing just takes a special kind of touch. But I certainly don't think it's just those in my House who are incapable of producing an accurate potion," she added indignantly.

Snape ignored her last comment. Hesitantly, he went on, granting, "Yes…you seem to have some grudgingly impressive skill in certain matters." He paused, eyeing her malevolently as well as even suspiciously.

"And this is not the first time I've witnessed it. Your…" he started, pausing for the right word, "…unusual prowess also surfaced in that essay on werewolves of yours I assigned when favored Professor Lupin was here, an assignment that everyone else seemed to have spent hours drooling upon instead of writing. I would have had a more tolerable time grading parchment ripped to shreds by hounds and pieced back together than I did mulling over entire essays sputtering nonsensical rubbish."

Hermione allowed herself to chuckle, despite the sinister expression on Snape's face. "To be honest, Professor, without having done that essay last year, I wouldn't have known Professor Lupin was a werewolf."

Snape looked down his nose at her. "That was my intention, but it seems you were the only student to have gotten the message."

Hermione, now flabbergasted at having been complimented multiple times by the hook-nosed and stern man she had come to associate with everything unpleasant at Hogwarts, shifted her weight uncomfortably.

Professor Snape went silent. He then turned on his heel and walked into his personal storage room, fumbling around for a while until he emerged carrying something that appeared quite small in his clenched fist.

"I am simply curious to know if you are interested in more in-depth lessons of potion-making," he drawled measuredly.

Hermione was taken aback, unsure how to react to such a bold proposal from a professor who had barely ever spoken to her, let alone done so kindly, before. She stood, splaying her hands on the desk.

"Professor, wouldn't that be considered cheating? If these potions are on our practical examination then I would have an unfair ad–"

Snape cut her off, scoffing: "I assure you, Miss Granger, none of the recipes I would be teaching you will be included on the exam; they are far too complex for the fourth-year simpletons in my class. And I can be sure of this fact because I am, of course, the one who makes that exam." How the silly girl could possibly and narcissistically think he would divulge exam secrets to her, and her alone, was beyond him.

Hermione's face colored, feeling stupid. "Of course, sir." She looked at him sheepishly, feeling ridiculously presumptuous.

"Are you interested or not?" Snape snapped, clearly still surprised at himself by even having asked the question at all.

The situation was more than curious. After having asked her to stay after class to invite her to harvest his more developed knowledge of potions in several after-class lessons, Snape's already unnecessary defenses were up higher than ever. This encounter, to Hermione, rather than being seen as pleasant, seemed rather suspicious.

"Yes, of course, sir," she repeated, watching him carefully.

Snape opened his hand to reveal one small puffer fish eye. "Good. Then we shall begin."