Hey all! This is my first ever attempt at fan-fiction or indeed any kind of writing other than short stories - this chapter is a bit shorter than future ones are intended to be but I guess we'll see how it goes. I'll try and update around once a week and once I get into the swing of things I'll set a day for regular updating. Thanks in advance for reading :)

All you need

"No Minerva. Absolutely not!" Snape hissed across the desk at his former teacher. "Satan will be building snowmen in hell before I agree to this."

"Severus," Minerva replied with that tone of voice that always let him know that if he didn't comply there were going to be sparks flying "If you can provide me with a rational objection, I would be delighted to hear it. If not then I am afraid that you are simply going to have to adjust to your new lab-mate." She sat looking at him with a look on her face that let him know that she knew as well as he did that he had no reason other than being a surly git to object.

He hated it when Minerva was right.

Unable to think of a combination of words that would get him out of this situation, Severus settled for a noncommittal grunt and a glare straight from the pit of Hades that would make even the most rowdy class cower in fear. Minerva, on the other hand, remained unmoved by this form of protest. In fact, she seemed to find it funny. "Severus, if the wind changes, you will be left permanently looking as though you have sat on a quill – actually come to think of it, that might be an improvement" she said with an affectionate laugh and a cheeky grin that weakened Severus' resolve, even if his face refused to show it. The only person who was remotely allowed to tease him was Minerva, and that was only after nearly twenty years of working alongside her. And she was by no means without limits.

After a few seconds Minerva dropped the grin and said, severe again "You know as well as I do Severus, that there is no reason other than your desire to live a life devoid of human contact for you to oppose this. The Order needs a secondary potion maker in case you are...otherwise engaged...and she would be an ideal apprentice. Even you can't deny that she has a talent for potions and a thirst for knowledge that rivals even yours". Why is she always right?

"As well as being an insufferable know it all" muttered Severus.

"I'm sure you'll learn to live with her Severus. If I recall correctly, you too were somewhat of a bookworm in school and you got straight O's in your OWL's. You may even find some similarities or areas of overlapping interest." Minerva rather doubted it, but she needed to find a way to get him to agree, and if by some miracle she could find his better nature, it made sense to try and appeal to it.

"Woman, I am nothing like Hermione Granger! She is a pathetically needy sixteen year old girl, constantly looking for someone to tell her how much better she is than everyone else at everything. I absolutely and categorically refuse to spend my free time pandering to her pathetic ego."

"Severus..."

"No! I'm telling you Minerva I won't do it. Short of Imperiusing me, you will not persuade me to spend a minute more with that girl than is absolutely necessary. It is .."

"Severus. This conversation is over. You will take Miss Granger on as an apprentice potion brewer or so help me I will hex you until your bollocks fall off" she snapped. She could tell that she had pushed him too far and that Severus had reached the end of his temper. He didn't say another word; just stood up with his face still fixed in the withering glare he had adopted to try to intimidate Minerva, and swept out of the office with his robes billowing behind him in the fashion that had earned him his nickname among staff and pupils as "bat of the dungeons". She was unsure whether his departure was an agreement or not and resolved to talk to him later once he'd calmed down. With a sigh, she returned to putting together timetables for the Gryffindors that would be returning the next evening.

Severus sat by the fire in his chambers in a very ragged old armchair in a stupor, with his wand hanging loosely from one hand and a bottle of Vodka hanging from the other. His mind was spinning in loose circles. Why was it always him? Sure, he'd done bad things throughout his life but what did he ever do to deserve this? On top of his duties as a spy, the Unbreakable Vow and his troubling commitment to Dumbledore, now two nights every week of his free time would be taken up teaching a sixteen year old witch who he had absolutely no respect for how to make some extremely difficult potions. Purgatory.

Why the fuck did Minerva think I would actually be ok with this? She must be going senile at last, thought Severus with a smirk. He would never admit it, but he actually respected Minerva McGonagall. Well, enough that he didn't try to zone her out when she was talking like he did with most people. He'd been doing it for so long that most people didn't even notice he wasn't listening, they just assumed he was a moody bastard which, to be honest, wasn't all that far from the truth. Mostly though, he just didn't want to hear what they had to say.

The only drink in the world strong enough to get me through this is cyanide, thought Severus to himself. Oh well, beggars can't be choosers he thought as he hauled himself out of the armchair and dragged his tired body across to the heavily warded bottom drawer of his bedside cabinet where he kept his escape route. Ah, sweet relief, he thought as he carefully unlocked the battered old metal box and examined the contents. Let's go for some muggle remedies tonight, he decided as he carefully removed a small plastic bag filled with a snow white powder. His fingers trembled slightly in anticipation as he opened the bag and slowly poured a very small measured dose across the surface of the cabinet. Since it would seem I'm so in demand, it would be a shame were I to overdose tonight. Tempting as it sounds. With a sigh of pleasure he busied himself with his escape. Exquisite, he thought as he let his mind drift into oblivion.

"He agreed!" Professor McGonagall announced cheerfully to Hermione the next day at The Burrow, while preparations were underway for their journey to Hogwarts later.

"Really?" asked Hermione somewhat doubtfully. She rather doubted that the positive ray of sunshine that was Professor Snape would renege on five years of hatred and torment so abruptly just because someone asked him nicely to. Frankly, it seemed more likely that Voldemort would ride starkers up to the headquarters of the Order of the Phoenix on a Crumple-Horned Snorkack and give Dumbledore a big wet kiss than that Professor Snape would agree to do give up his free time to participate in something that didn't cause suffering to a pupil.

"Well, at first he was somewhat...reluctant...but after some, ahem, gentle persuasion, he agreed it was a good idea." McGonagall replied with a small twitch at the corners of her lips showing the truth of the situation

Hermione mentally snorted. That sounded a bit more believable. Blackmail would certainly cause him to be a bit more gracious in sharing his potions lab two nights a week with a sixth year that he had on more than one occasion labelled an insufferable know it all.

If Professor McGonagall noticed Hermione's amusement, she didn't show it. "Your first lesson with him will be on Wednesday at 8 o clock. Thereafter, you will be having lessons with him every Wednesday and Friday at 8 until such a time as he believes that you are capable of brewing the many complex potions that the Order may require."

"Yes Professor. Thank you."

"Why are you thanking me Miss Granger? It is Professor Snape who will be teaching you. I merely informed him of your interest in the apprenticeship" Again, a faint smile tugged at the corners of Professor McGonagall's lips as she fought not to laugh.

"Of course Professor" Hermione's lips twitched in response to Professor McGonagall's amusement as she played along. "In that case would you please tell him how grateful I am?"

After Professor McGonagall had left, Hermione laughed out loud at the thought of Professor Snape being made to do something he didn't want to do. Serves him right. Probably the first time in his life; she thought. She had never liked Professor Snape, even if she was forced to respect him because he was her teacher. Truth be told, she was still bitter about the tooth incident in fourth year and felt not a bit of pity for him being blackmailed. She returned to packing her trunk more cheerful than before, as the image of Snape squirming with discomfort filled her mind.