Disclaimer: All publicly recognizable characters, settings, etc. are the property of their respective owners. The original characters and plot are the property of the author.
A/N – This was written about three years ago and was originally posted as two parts. It is now in three parts and after editing out the bits I didn't like and altering things to my current tastes, I am now reposting this here and at other archives. I hope you enjoy this and rest assured I am working on something new.
A big hug and the most indulgent and expensive chocolate truffles must go to WriterMerrin for rescuing this story and making the suggestion of posting it in three parts. Thank you so much my dear - I'd be lost without you!
--
At the end of it all, it had been a beautiful, intelligent girl with a riot of brown curls who had made him pause. Voldemort, the foul manipulator, had read him like a book the moment his thoughts had lapsed towards her. She had been captured then, and used against him. Eventually, Potter delivered his final blow to the Dark Lord, and Snape had been cast into the background. This was despite the fact that every strategy, every bit of information and every little detail that helped Harry Potter reach the final battle had come from Severus Snape himself along with countless other hard-working Order members.
It was true that Snape hated publicity and would never have wanted all of the fame and medals, but he had given up so much of his life for some small acknowledgement that he was forgiven for his mistakes as a teenager. The dark side had exploited his greatest weakness - had tortured him and left him on death's door, but not before they had told Hermione Granger that she had only been kidnapped because Snape was in love with her, already the most powerful young witch of her generation.
He was pathetic, and he knew it. He had purposely removed himself from the eyes of the public, just so that the media couldn't get their claws into him. He had no intention of running the risk of seeing Hermione Granger after her discovery of his long-harboured secret. He was lucky that it was only she who had discovered this. She would likely sneer at him and think him a filthy lecher for having feelings for her. It had been two long years since that fateful day, and he had managed thus far to avoid nearly everyone he knew.
The only problem in this entire situation was that he constantly received owls from said bright witch. He convinced himself that it was 'just business'. He had left Hogwarts and had begun his own private brewing company for potions which, oddly enough, he supplied to the apothecary that Hermione happened to run. She was unaware of the fact that it was he who brewed her potions, and he intended to keep it that way.
After all, the only time he left the security of his own land or manor was when he attended the occasional Potions convention. He blinked out of his musings just as an owl swooped in through his office window and dropped a roll of sealed parchment in front of him before retreating to its stand.
'What have you brought me today, Archimedes? Some delightful poetry from my beautiful Gryffindor?' he asked his black hawk owl sarcastically, tossing him an owl treat.
The owl ate his treat and gave a soft hoot, making Snape proud of how well he had been trained. He cracked Hermione's dark blue seal and unfolded the letter, taking in the precise rounded cursive of Hermione's writing. Much like the woman herself, the text was flawless in his eyes.
--
Mr. Prince,
As I have been a client of your brewing company for the past year, I would be most gratified if you would consider allowing me to include a special order service in my Apothecary to be available for my customers. The reason for my request is the result of an increase in interest in special potions and medicinal ones that I have not the time to brew for myself.
I kindly ask that you consider this and reply as soon as you have come to a decision, and I will draw up an appropriate price drafting so that you receive extra for specialty Potions. As always, I am extremely grateful for your support and partnership in both my Diagon Alley and Hogsmeade Branches.
I remain faithfully, your servant,
Hermione J. Granger
--
Severus read over it again and tapped thoughtfully on his chin as he began to think on a response to her request. She had been polite and fairly straightforward in her offer, not asking too much, but obviously trying to come across to him as a woman who was serious about her business. It was quite refreshing to receive such a letter, so he took out a fresh piece of parchment and a quill and decided to pen down a brief response.
--
Miss Granger,
I am aware of our current arrangement and am willing to allow such special orders to occur. I will post you a list of potions that I am not currently already sending you post haste and will be happy with any price list that you believe appropriate. I look forward to continued business with you.
Your most humble servant,
M.J. Prince
Persuasion Brewing Company Director/i
--
After reading through to make ensure that he had not misspelled anything, he folded it carefully, sealed it with a drop of silver wax, and pressed his seal into it. He walked over to Archimedes and attached the letter to the bird's leg, carrying him out to the window and sending him off.
'Take it to my Hermione,' he told the bird as it took off into the night.
Sighing as he watched his familiar fly off to his beloved, Snape contemplated finishing off his work for the day and indulging in a nice hot bath. He had every intention of falling asleep totally relaxed.
--
A hawk owl swooped through the open window of the Apothecary and landed on the stack of notes that sat precariously near the edge. Hermione walked in just in time to shift the pile before it toppled over and crashed to the floor. The poor owl would have been crushed by the weight of her unfiled paperwork. Detaching the note from the creature's leg, she gave it a treat before it took off again.
'Hmm… let's see what you have to say, Mr. Prince,' she murmured to herself.
Breaking the seal, she unfolded and scanned the contents of the letter, which was short and straight to the point. But that's what she liked about this company and the Director; he didn't bandy about with inane information and was reliable, always sending on time and offering his complete services. She also knew that he supplied for several other Apothecaries throughout Europe and that the Director himself had published three books: one on the uses of Dragon's blood and two others concerning potions and the properties of some ingredients and their uses.
She smiled and decided just to send him a write-up of the potions she would like to have on the request list in the morning. Securing the shop and office, she Apparated to her house in Aberdeen from the alleyway behind the shop. She got inside as soon as she could - autumn was shaping up to be rather cold. Leaves were everywhere on the ground. She hung up her coat and scarf in the closet beside the front door and took off her long boots.
'Hello, Crookshanks,' she said to her ginger half-kneazle as it wound around her legs in greeting, mewing softly. 'Are you hungry?'
Crookshanks' response was a louder, more insistent mewl and a nudge in the direction of the kitchen. She laughed and picked him up, cradling him as she went to find his food, and deposited him on the floor with a full bowl before him.
'You're really getting fat, Crooks,' she muttered as she walked across to put on the jug to boil water for tea.
She made and drank her tea slowly, savouring the warmth, before going up for a hot shower and pulling on her comfortable flannelette pyjamas. With the addition of bed socks on her feet, she clambered under the covers and opened a book. It was a book she had read many times before, but just couldn't get enough of - Jane Austen's Sense & Sensibility. It was a Muggle book, but she liked it and felt an affinity with the characters.
After a while, her eyes drifted shut and she woke for just long enough to mark her page and set it aside before extinguishing the lights and falling into a peaceful slumber.
--
Two months later…
Rubbing a hand over his tired eyes, Snape forced himself to concentrate on the task at hand. He had received a letter two days before from Aberdeen College, requesting that he deliver a weekly Potions lecture, essentially becoming one of their casual teaching staff. At first he had wondered if they had all gone mad, asking to hire him after all that had happened during the war.
Then after a while, he remembered that he had received the top N.E.W.T. score for potions in the whole of Europe, and after all, he was a famous and highly recognized figure in the world of potion-making. Aberdeen was the best Wizarding and Witchcraft College in Scotland, and of course, they only ever hired the best. Apparently he was the best they could find.
'What do you think, Archimedes?' he asked the owl who was currently perched precariously on top of his paperwork. 'Should I accept? It would only be one day a week.'
The owl hooted softly, and he made up his mind. He took a fresh bit of parchment and his finest quill and began writing a response. Perhaps it wouldn't hurt to teach the next generation of potion-makers something of worth?
--
Dean Grey,
I will accept your offer to educate your current Potions students so that they received the finest training possible. I will be free to teach every Wednesday, and shall begin as soon as it is convenient to the current timetable. Please recognize that this is purely an informal teaching post and that I will accept no proposals in the future for a more permanent position.
Regards,
Professor S. Snape
Potions Master, Order of Merlin: First Class
--
Snape smiled at what he had just written. It had been a long while since he had signed a letter with his own name and title. He had been working as simply Mr. Prince for so long that he had almost forgotten what a pleasure it was to sign his own name. He folded the parchment into and envelope and sealed it with his regular dark-green wax and the Snape family seal as opposed to the Brewing company wax and seal, and attached it to the waiting Archimedes.
'Deliver this safely to the Dean, and don't wait for a response,' he said just before his familiar flew away. He would find out soon enough what the Dean thought of his reply to her letter.
He sat back in his chair and sighed, wondering just what it was that Hermione was doing at that very moment. He often wondered as he sat alone in his office, whether or not she was working, or teaching, or reading, or even going out on a date with some other dashing fellow. During those times, he had migraines and often felt regret and jealousy among other things. Shifting his mind to the stack of orders on his desk, he stood to retrieve them and walked towards his laboratory to begin. Now that he was teaching again, he couldn't afford to let things pile up.
--
Severus Snape strode into the lecture theatre confidently, robes whipping behind him and swirling dramatically as he walked in - the very same way as he had always done at Hogwarts. He was singularly proud that he had not lost his presence and intimidating gestures. He would have everyone's attention before his class began, or he would not begin to teach at all until he did. He had planned it so that his class was never boring. It would neither carry on for too long, nor would it be so short that he did not impart the necessary information to his students. He was demanding and would weed out the stragglers. Not one of them would fail his potions class that year.
'Get out your notebooks and open your texts to page 359,' he said smoothly as he walked to the front of the room, pointing his wand at the board so that the class notes for that lesson would appear.
Every student hurriedly obeyed and was scrambling to get all of their things so that they didn't anger their new, scary professor, who had been rumoured to have been not only the nastiest Potions Master in Europe, but a former Death Eater. As he surveyed the crowd he took note that very few of those present had actually attended Hogwarts. From what he had been told, many were exchange participants from various Universities in Europe and America. They whispered a little, and Snape smirked inwardly. He had already frightened them with his entrance. This was going to be all too easy.
'You will not need to hold private discussions in this class. Any student that does... will find themselves punished,' he barked sternly. 'I am Professor Snape, and I am your new Potions instructor for your Wednesday class. Before we begin, I will tell you all that there will be no tomfoolery in this room. The moment you pass through the doors of my classroom each week, you will be silent and attentive. If not…' he paused and looked straight at a particularly arrogant blonde chap. '…you will be asked to leave, or receive a punishment befitting your crime.'
By the end of this, Snape was positive that he had even the tough boy shaking in his boots, if the fear in his blue eyes was any indicator. Smugly, he tapped the projector with his wand, and slides began to appear on the board in accordance with the topic for that day.
'Now,' Snape began. 'Can any of you tell me what the difference is between Monkshood and Wolfsbane…?
Not one hand rose up, and the dunderheads simply looked around at each other, trying to see if anyone actually knew the answer. He had only asked the question to gage the level within the classroom. Clearly, Snape thought to himself, he was going to need to start from scratch. And then he heard it. The classroom door opened at the back, and a sweet, familiar voice spoke.
'Professor, there is no difference. Monkshood and Wolfsbane are one and the same.'
He looked towards the back of the classroom, and what he saw was most alarming indeed. Hermione Granger, in all of her glory, was approaching the front seats with a bag over her shoulder and a book in her hand.
'You're late,' he stated curtly.
'Yes, and I apologize, Professor Snape, but I was speaking with the Dean,' she delivered flawlessly, making his heart skip a beat.
'Very well, take your seat and keep silent,' he said, trying not to look directly into her warm, coffee eyes. 'Raise your hand if you wish to ask or answer a question.'
He was no nicer to her than he had been to any of the others, and had even sneered a little as he spoke to her in an attempt to exaggerate his indifference. What on earth was she doing in his class? If he had known, he would have never accepted. Class went on, however, with Hermione asking and answering most of the questions just as he had expected he would from the moment she walked in. The only difference was that now, he was in love with her. Back then, she had just been a major annoyance. When he had finally finished covering all of the topics for that day, he turned off the projector.
'Class is dismissed. I shall see you all here on time next Wednesday,' he said, putting an emphasis on the attendance time.
All off the students practically fled from the room, scared out of their wits by their new Professor. One student, however, lingered behind a little - an intelligent, witty and beautiful student.
'I see you have already created your intimidating persona, Professor,' Hermione said as she put her book in her bag and stood. 'They're like first-years.'
'I don't see how that is any of your business, Miss Granger,' he said curtly, clearing the notes from the board.
She laughed softly and went to the door to leave. 'Have a nice week, Professor, and I'll make sure that I get here on time next Wednesday,' she said before she slipped out.
Snape stood there, confused and dazed by what had just transpired. She had not taken offense to his belittling remarks, and had ignored his indifference and acted as though he were just any other person, not a man that she despised. She had laughed at him and had bid him a pleasant week. What the hell was going on?
--
Hermione watched and listened intently as she learned from her former Hogwarts professor and current College professor at the front. Ever since that first Wednesday in his classroom, she had chosen a more discreet position in the classroom towards the back. She didn't raise her hand as much and always arrived early. She couldn't bare his coldness towards her, and the less she gave him to insult, the better off she would be.
For some reason she had wanted, from the second she had realized that Severus Snape was going to be her Professor again, to impress and please him. She knew that it would be hard, but she would do anything to gain his approval. It had been years since she had seen him, since her kidnapping and the discovery of his feelings for her. In his first class he had been so unfeeling and cold towards her that she would hardly have guessed he had ever had feelings for her at all.
In the end, the only conclusion she could come to was that he hated her again. After all, the way in which she had discovered him had been in the worst circumstances, and she didn't want it to be a bone of contention between them. He had saved her from death, had loved her, and she liked this man. She wanted to be liked by this man. And that was why she was trying to prove herself to him, to be more than just some silly girl that he once knew.
'Miss Granger, are you paying attention?'
Her eyes snapped to the face of the man in her thoughts, and she blinked in shock. She had totally zoned out and had no idea what he was talking about. 'Sorry, Professor, I lost track,' she apologized, blushing.
He had a smug look on his features at that, and he crossed his arms, forcing a frown to harden him. 'You will stay behind and see me after class, but for interest's sake we are currently studying the topic of water plants and ingredients,' he said sardonically, looking away from her and throwing a question at another unsuspecting target.
Hermione concentrated for the rest of the while, and when the days' work was done, she packed her bag and remained behind as requested. 'What did you want to see me about, Professor?' she asked, trying to sound more confident than she felt.
'You were daydreaming in my class, and I will not tolerate it,' he answered back immediately. 'You are the brightest student in this class, and although you might not understand, I need to make it seem as though I punish this sort of thing. I will not punish you however. I believe that you have already an extensive knowledge in this field. But I do have a reputation to uphold.'
Hermione nodded in understanding, seeing for the first time in ages the near-normal Snape that had once been revealed in the heat of a war. 'I understand Professor, and I do not mind being made an example of in class, however, I wish you wouldn't be quite so horrid.'
He smirked at that. 'But Miss Granger, is that not my reputation?' he queried.
She smiled. 'Of course, and I suppose you have your reasons,' she replied before pausing briefly to think. 'I suppose if I asked you to join me for lunch so that we could discuss Potions, you would say no, correct?'
He raised an eyebrow at the suggestion and decided to keep her unstable for the time-being. 'On the contrary, Miss Granger, I will join you on the condition that this is to discuss Potions only,' he answered simply.
Hermione nearly fainted. He said yes. 'Where would be acceptable?'
'It is not my decision,' he answered seriously.
'How does the Three Broomsticks sound to you then, sir?' she offered, praying that it didn't seem too much like an outing with a friend. She didn't want him to be scared off by her so soon. 'It's not far away from here, and we could Apparate. I promised Madame Rosmerta a visit soon anyway.'
'Alright,' he conceded.
He had to admit, it had been quite a long while since he had entered the long-familiar establishment himself. They Apparated within seconds of each other and hurried from the winter chill into the warmth of the glowing, cheerful pub. They located a fairly private table and placed their lunch orders with the owner herself, before they relaxed slightly.
'What exactly did you have in mind to discuss with me?' Snape asked, breaking the silence first.
'Well, as you know, I did mention Potions, but it isn't just the subject in itself that I wanted to talk about,' she began casually. 'I have been attending your classes and other lectures in order to gain knowledge enough to qualify for testing to become a Potion's Master.'
'You want a Master's in Potions? Why?'
'Well, I always wanted to have plenty of options for my career, and while being a qualified Apothecarist is all fine and good, I want so much more than just that,' she answered, taking a sip of her butterbeer. 'I fear I will be studying for the rest of my life, unable to decide just what I want to do with it.'
'Ever the ambitious one, Miss Granger. It often surprises me that you weren't sorted into Slytherin or Ravenclaw,' he said in a voice that was almost kind.
'Well I might have been if it weren't for my Muggle background, or reputation for being brash and forth-coming,' she quipped.
'Touché,' he said with a short bark of laughter. 'In any case, why is it that you wanted to discuss your plans with me?'
'Well, you are a famous Potions professional, and I was always told that if you want the best information, you have to go to the best,' she offered with a smile. 'I just wondered if you had any advice.'
'Perhaps,' he said, just as their lunch arrived in front of them.
They ate in companionable silence for a while, and when they were finished, they bundled into their coats and bid each other well until the next class.
--
Snape sealed the last of the boxes and attached the Portkey note to it, sending it off immediately to the client. He had completed his monthly replenishment of stocks in the various Apothecaries, including Hermione's, and had another two days until he had to teach on the Wednesday. He hadn't expected to be finished so soon, but then again, it would give him more time to catch up on his recent research.
As he searched for his journals, his thoughts travelled back to Hermione and their most recent lunch conversation after class. Ever since that first lunch, they had somehow agreed to meet after every class he taught, and they discussed everything from Potions to Arithmancy, even dwelling occasionally on his current research.
He enjoyed every second of every minute that he was able to spend with this wonderful, bright witch, but still remained indifferent as her Potions Professor, if only just a little nicer.
As he walked through his private labs, he collected his books and headed straight to his library. When he arrived, he saw Archimedes perched precariously on top of a pile of books, waiting, with a letter attached to his foot in a familiar rounded cursive. 'Thank you my friend,' he said to the bird as he removed it.
He was disappointed to find that it was addressed to Mr. Prince, but opened it, wanting to read what she had to say.
--
Mr. Prince,
Sorry if I may seem presumptuous, but it seems appropriate for me to suggest that perhaps the time has come when we might perhaps arrange a meeting. I make it a point to meet all of my business partners and so forth, and have up until now, decided to overlook the fact that we have never met.
I understand that you are a very busy man and run a large business that must call upon a large portion of your time, but I would appreciate if you would owl me a day that would be acceptable for us to meet in person. Please understand that should we continue business as we do now, I will, at the very least, need to meet you once.
Kindest regards,
Hermione J. Granger
--
Snape re-read the letter and felt the urge to kick something. She had always been content without meeting him in the past. Why the sudden interest after all that time? He looked back at it. He could always just say no. But he wasn't so stupid to risk losing her as a client that way. After all, her Apothecary chain was good for his business, not to mention that she was the woman he was in love with.
He couldn't bear to be rude to her, no matter whether she knew his name or not. He couldn't even do so while pretending to be someone else. Sighing, he knew that there was only one thing for it; he would have to arrange a lunch with her and show up - as himself. Hopefully she would not be too upset with him for not revealing his identity. If she was, he would accept it. After all, it was his fault for being so secretive.
He pulled out a sheet of parchment and began.
--
Hermione paced her bedroom at her house. She had been waiting for a reply for the last week from the Director of the brewing company she did business with. She had been so distracted on Wednesday that she found it hard to concentrate in class. Even when she had lunch with Snape, she was mostly quiet. But she couldn't help it. She really didn't want to lose the supplier, but at the same time she also really wanted a meeting.
After all, she was running a business. And although she had never been given reason to mistrust them before, she still felt that she needed just this one meeting to make sure that everything was fine. Finally, she heard the sound of wings beating as the black hawk owl dropped to her windowsill. She hastily went to it and took the note attached.
But when she went to open it, she noticed something was different. It was the seal. It was green, and was of a family crest instead of the silver. What on earth? She quickly opened it and then realized the writing was slightly different. It was neat, but the letters were spidery and familiar.
Miss Granger,
I do believe that I have a lot of explaining to do, and would appreciate if you would be able to make time to see me at lunch tomorrow. Perhaps you will oblige to meet me in the Red Room at the Leaky Cauldron? I have booked this private dining room and sincerely hope that I will be able to explain everything to you.
Until then, I remain your faithful servant,
Professor S. Snape
Hermione stared at the note, bewildered. This letter was from Snape, but the owl had been the very same one that had been delivering her notes from Persuasion Brewing Company. What was this all supposed to mean? She dropped the letter on the bed and sank onto it soon after.
And then it dawned on her. Snape was the Director of Persuasion. And he had pulled the wool over her eyes.
--
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