Know-it-all and the Slytherin

Disclaimer: The characters are not mine. They belong to JK Rowling.

Authors note: This is set six months after the downfall of Voldemort. Not DH compliant. Probably not HBP compliant either.

Chapter 1

"Severus, really, you must learn to control your temper. You have frightened off every single Healer that has come to treat you." Minerva McGonagall, now Headmistress of Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, chirped irritably.

"I do not wish to be bothered, Minerva! Leave me to die in peace!" Severus Snape screamed angrily causing the walls to shake.

He turned from the older witch and stalked swiftly into the shadowed corner where his worn throne like chair sat.

Minerva watched him woefully then turned and left through the door slamming it behind her. A picture that had been on the wall now laid shattered on the floor.

Severus stared at the picture angrily. How dare that Scottish tart of a witch! Had he not done everything in his power to make sure her tartan clad ars would be free of the tyranny of the Dark Lord?

And to be the way he was now. This was his thanks. This was his punishment. He hated the world. He hated them all and no amount of chirping was going to change his mind. He was now damned and he accepted his outcome.

Minerva heard the picture fall as she slammed the door. She didn't care. She didn't stop. Severus was stubborn to be certain. She had hired every available Healer in Britain. She'd also had every available Healer in Britain run from the dungeons screaming.

By the time Minerva had reached her office she had cooled her head to think. Perching in her chair she pondered on her available options. Surely someone would be willing to treat Severus. He had to be cured soon. His mind depended on it.

But who? Who could be patient enough to put up with his tirades and his gentle enough to deal with his rage? It had to be someone courageous. Someone who would be able to research the rare disease. Someone who pick through countless number of books and read every word looking for a clue to a cure.

Minerva suddenly had a thought. She sat straight up in her chair; leaned over her desk; grabbed her quill and began writing. Writing to Hermione Granger.

It had been six months since the fall of the wizarding world's Thomas Marvolo Riddle aka Lord Voldemort.

Hermione had lost many of her friends and acquaintances but had gained her freedom. Sometimes Hermione wondered if the countless number of lost lives measured up.

Hermione had studied independently and within three months had learned enough to become a Healer. She had studied night and day locking herself into her room coming out only for food or restroom breaks.

With the help of her hero money from the Ministry she had opened a small Healer's office underneath her flat in London. It wasn't much only two rooms. One room for examining and one room for the reception area. She didn't have enough money to hire a staff.

Of course, she didn't have a large clientele only her friends and a few others. Therefore, her need for a staff was not a priority.

Currently, Hermione was giving a thorough check-up to her closet personal friend Ron Weasley. They had been dating for six months now. Hermione feared Ron's attachment was greater than hers.

"Hermione, is this going to take much longer?" Ron whined as he lay in a paper gown on a cold plastic bed.

Hermione pushed a stray lock of curly, frizzy hair that had fallen out of her tightly pinned bun behind her ear subconsciously as she held her wand over Ron's still healing ribs. Three weeks previously, he and Harry Potter had been playing Quidditch. Ron, being the show he is, tried to do a particularly difficult maneuver when he fell from his broom about 20 feet.

The result had been three broken ribs, a sprained ankle and many cuts and bruises.

"Ronald, be still," Hermione warned.

She finished her examination walking to her quill and parchment to record her findings. She turned to see Ron had put his clothes back on and was staring at her anxiously. She looked down to her notes then back at Ron. Her face blank.

"Well, the swelling seems to have gone down and the bruising is completely gone," she paused as Ron gave her a wide grin, "but I still wouldn't recommend playing Quidditch until the swelling has subside completely."

Ron's grin faded into a frown.

"Bloody hell!" he squealed, "still no Quidditch?" He jumped to his feet angrily.

"I wouldn't recommend it." Hermione replied tiredly.

"You wouldn't recommend it? But that doesn't mean I can't play then? "Ron said his grin returning.

"You can do whatever you'd like Ronald Weasley but if you get hurt again find another Healer," Hermione huffed angrily turning away from the negligent redhead.

Ron walked towards Hermione placing his arms around her waist turning her to face him. His mouth inches from hers.

"I'm sorry," he said softly.

He inched closer to her.

"I won't play if you don't want me too."

Her only reply was a weak smile.

"How about you and I spend the rest of the day indoors?" Ron whispered suggestively pressing his lower regions into hers.

Hermione smiled and leaned forward to kiss Ron when a loud rapping startled her. She jumped back and found a black and white owl fluttering near her window.

She unlatched the window to let the bird in. The salt and pepper colored owl stretched out his tiny foot towards Hermione. She untied the parchment unrolled and read carefully.

Miss Hermione Granger,

I am pleased to offer you the position of assistant Medi-witch here at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry.

The term starts in two weeks. Please send your reply with Percival (my owl).

Sincerely,

Minerva McGonagall

Headmistress of Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry

Hermione looked up at Ron awed.

"What is it? Who's it from?" he asked cautiously after watching the emotions flicker across his girlfriends face.

She handed the letter silently to him. She began walking about the room mentally packing her things. Ron read the letter silently then looked up to Hermione. The look on his face stopped her in her tracks.

"Ron?"

His face contorted with anger.

"You can't possibly go Hermione. What about the shop?" He said

"I'll close it down, Ron. I'm not making that much money with it. I'll make much more at Hogwarts."

"What about us?" Ron spat.

Hermione stared at him awestruck.

"What about us?"

"You can't possibly expect us to work if you're moving to a different country."

Hermione felt her heart break.

"You're going to break up with me then?" She said steadily.

"If you take this position you better believe it." He said defiantly.

"Then consider us done then. I think you should leave Mr. Weasley." Hermione said shakily.

Without another word. Ron turned and walked out the door slamming it shut behind him. The picture of her mother hanging beside the door fell to the floor and shattered. Hermione stared at it angrily then the tears began to fall.

Alright, I already have this story completed. However, I will not update a chapter until I have 5 reviews. So it is up to all of you to give me your feedback. I hope you have enjoyed. I wrote this when we were without power for 4 days. Writing by candle light without distractions is nerve-racking