Disclaimer / A/N:
1. Harry Potter, etc. belong to JK Rowling.
2. Anything you recognize probably wasn't my idea. I can't read every single HP fanfic, so I don't know everything everyone has written, though.
3. Even though HGSS student-teacher stories are my favorite to read, I don't support that kind of relationship in real life...
4. I'd just like to point out: this is fanfiction. it is inherently AU. That being said, this particular story is AU in that Voldemort didn't make Horcruxes, so when he died on Halloween 1981 and gave Harry the scar, he died for good. Snape is just bitchy over Lily dying and his childhood. Which, let's be honest, is enough to give anyone a permanent bad mood.
5. I originally meant this to be sort-of a songfic, but I got this idea that was just way too good to ignore... You'll see what I mean in the next chapter.
Thanks so much for reading my story!
-KJ
Hermione huffed a sigh of relief as she sat bolt upright in bed, already realizing that her nightmare had been just that – a dream. She'd taken her Potions NEWTs the previous day; she didn't need to worry over them anymore.
At least the dream hadn't woken her up in the middle of the night; it was only minutes before she normally got up. Hermione slid off the bed and padded silently over to the bathroom; her roommates wanted every spare second of sleep they could get, so she always stayed silent until she reached the common room. After showering and dressing in a clean, perfectly pressed uniform – the same she wore every day, blouse, skirt, and pullover – she pulled on her tights and picked up her mary-janes. She couldn't put those on until she reached the common room – the satisfying clicky noise they made would wake her roommates.
Harry waved to her from across the common room. "Ron already went down to breakfast, but I wanted to make sure you woke up OK."
Hermione smiled nervously. "Thanks, Harry. I'm not very hungry – too nervous, I suppose."
Harry nodded in understanding and took her hand to pull her downstairs. They waved to Ron as they entered the Great Hall, their hands sliding apart effortlessly. Harry and Hermione held hands often, but it didn't mean anything. They were siblings to each other, had been ever since Harry saved Hermione from the troll.
"Hermione, you have mail," Ron told her, pointing to the envelopes stacked against the coffeepot.
"Thanks, Ron," she responded, picking up the stack and flipping through it. A letter each from the Weasley sons not still in Hogwarts, plus another from Mr. and Mrs. Weasley. Everyone wished her luck, though each added a piece of advice for dealing with Professor Snape. Charlie, this year's DADA Professor, told her that his current tactic was really ignore and be ignored. Fred and George told her that if she ever wanted to prank Snape, they'd give her free Weasley's Wizard Wheezes products. Bill told her to be polite and just do her best. Mr. and Mrs. Weasley – well, more Mrs. Weasley – offered to send homemade sweets.
Hermione saved Percy's letter for last. Even though he wasn't particularly close to the rest of his family at the moment, the two of them had always been closer than they let on. Percy had helped her learn her way around during her first year, before Harry and Ron had made friends. She'd been able to rely on Percy for advice on obscure texts to use for essays her whole way through Hogwarts, and their conversations had evolved from simple requests for where to find information to debating the merits of various sources to debating the actual information.
Percy understood her, in a way that no one else did, especially not Ron and Harry. He understood her drive to include extra information in essays, just because she thought it was fascinating. He'd confided in her that he'd been the same way, still was mostly. Even though he worked for the Ministry, he still loved learning new information, and their letters were filled with long explanations of what they'd learned that week and commentaries on whatever the other had last written about. Often the letters would have commentary on many of the things they'd discussed.
Hermione sighed wistfully; she'd developed a crush on Percy in her first week at Hogwarts when he showed her around the library. It had only grown over the years.
When she reached the last page of Percy's letter, she finally reached the portion mentioning her new studies. He was obviously jealous of the opportunity, and begged for a promise to share any and all new knowledge she acquired. Hermione smiled, resolving to write Percy back the second her day finished.
The last paragraph surprised her the most. Percy wrote that Charlie had told him that she was now allowed to make trips of her own into Hogsmeade, since she wouldn't be following the normal student schedule. Hermione hadn't heard this yet, and she was surprised that Percy had heard of it first, though who he'd heard it from didn't really surprise her. Charlie was the only Weasley still on speaking terms with Percy after the family schism; he'd been in Romania when it happened and thus had a more objective view.
But Percy had not just told her of the new allowance, he'd asked her to meet him at the Three Broomsticks the next time she could get away; he hoped that lunch today or tomorrow would work. Hermione perked up; maybe Percy wanted something more than just their friendly letters? She hoped so.
Δ
"Good morning, Professor Snape!" Hermione called cheerfully as she walked into the classroom.
"Miss Granger," he acknowledged. "Your schedule for the first month is over there." He pointed to his desk.
"Thank you, sir!" she chirped. As she turned for the desk, Snape couldn't help but notice the tendrils of her excessively curly hair escaping from the ponytail bun she'd pulled it back into.
"Miss Granger, I hope you can find a way to control that hair of yours," he said mildly. "It wouldn't do for it to contaminate one of your potions."
Hermione frowned before picking up the schedule. "We're not starting today, sir?" disappointment warred with anticipation in her tone.
"Good God, no!" Snape exclaimed. "I've classes all day today, as you ought to know."
Hermione nodded briskly, already planning mentally what she would wear for her meeting with Percy. "Is it all right then, sir, if I go to Hogsmeade to pick up some books?" The lie slid smoothly off her tongue.
Snape nodded, although he hoped she wouldn't be getting Potions books; he had a very specific reading list for her, and all the books on it could be found in his personal library. He had no qualms about lending her the books, for Miss Granger considered books to be a deity on par with Christ. "Very well. What are you planning on getting, Miss Granger?"
Hermione had another lie ready. "Oh, just a book a friend suggested." Though now she'd have to get a suitable book at Hogsmeade's bookstore, Quill and Page.
Δ
Hermione snuggled her hands further into her pockets as she paced toward Hogsmeade. She was meeting Percy in just twenty minutes! Her mouth curved up in a delighted smile.
But Percy was late. Hermione arrived at the Three Broomsticks two minutes early and plopped herself down in a booth after carefully checking for Percy. She checked her watch every twenty seconds for twelve long minutes before finally ordering a hot chocolate from Madam Rosmerta.
Where is he? Hermione wondered.
After twenty-five minutes, Hermione had finished her hot chocolate. She ordered another.
After another hot chocolate, she ordered a grilled cheese. When that was done, she asked for a slice of apple pie, heated.
When Percy finally arrived, an hour and a half late, Hermione was steaming mad. "Where on earth have you been, Percy?! We agreed to meet an hour and a half ago!"
"Oh," Percy replied vaguely. "I thought..."
Hermione's eyes narrowed in suspicion and anger.
"I'm really sorry, Hermione," he told her. "I just got out of a meeting that ran longer than I thought it would, and I really did think that we'd agreed to meet later." He sighed heavily, sure that Hermione would stay angry.
"Oh, that's alright, Percy," she said instead, surprising him. "But I've already eaten, so I guess the trip's been rather wasted."
"Oh, no, Hermione, I'm sorry." Percy slumped a bit in his seat.
She shrugged. "Well, I wouldn't mind another hot chocolate." She eyed him speculatively. "What's the legal age for liquor in the wizarding world?"
"Uhm," Percy coughed, "Twenty. Why?"
"Oh, just curious," Hermione replied airily. "I am a bit surprised that it's not seventeen, though."
"Hmm, well, I guess legal adults aren't responsible enough to drink," Percy replied teasingly, reminding Hermione that she was, in fact, a legal adult in the wizarding world – her birthday was at the end of September, so she was one of the oldest in her year at Hogwarts.
"Do you think I'm responsible enough to drink?" she asked curiously.
Percy, who'd just taken a sip of the water Madam Rosmerta had brought him, spit it out all over the table.
"Good gracious, Percy!" Hermione exclaimed.
"Uh, yes," he told her. "I do think you're responsible enough to drink. Although why you would..." He trailed off. "Alcohol tastes positively horrific."
Hermione shrugged. "I guess I'm just curious," she admitted. "I've never had anything alcoholic – my parents don't drink, they think it ruins teeth."
"Right, the dentists," Percy said.
"Would you mind ordering me a Firewhiskey?" Hermione asked.
Percy, guessing where the conversation was leading, did not look surprised, only resigned. "Sure, Hermione."
"Thank you, Percy."
When the Firewhiskey arrived, Madam Rosmerta was watching them with hawk's eyes – she wanted to make sure Hermione didn't drink it. Both sighed, and Percy took a small sip.
"Eugh," he muttered. "I always think it'll be better than it is." They waited until Madam Rosmerta was occupied with another customer and then Percy passed the glass to Hermione. She took a large gulp, and promptly choked.
She did manage to swallow the entire mouthful though, for which Percy was impressed. The first time he'd tasted Firewhiskey, it had ended up all over Bill's boots.
"Wow," Hermione murmured. "That's strong stuff."
Percy nodded with a tight smile. He always had a hard time holding his liquor, and while he didn't want Hermione to think him weak for not drinking as much as she had at once, he knew it would backfire on him. Nevertheless, the urge prevailed, and Percy, too, took a large gulp.
Twenty minutes later, the pair walked down the main street towards the bookshop. Hermione had mentioned needing to get a book as an excuse, so here they were. "What would you suggest?" she asked him. "Only I told Professor Snape that I was getting a book on the recommendation of a friend, and I'd rather not be made a liar."
Hermione could clearly hold her liquor better than he could, Percy thought. She seemed entirely clear-headed, while he could barely think straight.
"Right. Book. Recommendation," he muttered. "Let me think..." He paused for a moment, staring around the interior of the shop for inspiration. "Aha!" He strode towards a bookshelf, only stumbling a small bit on his way. Plucking a book off the shelf, he whirled to face Hermione and tilted into a bookshelf.
"Oh, Percy," Hermione murmured, grabbing his shoulder to haul him upright.
"You'll like this one, Hermione," Percy insisted, slurring the words a little.
Hermione glanced down to take a look at the cover; it declared itself to be A Witch's Guide to the Wizarding World. "Thanks, Percy," Hermione replied hesitantly. On the one hand, the suggestion could be taken to be rather sexist, but Hermione adamantly believed that Percy meant it in a good way. That he was acknowledging how hard witches had it in a magical world that clung to older ways of thinking.
Δ
Hermione sighed. Percy had walked her back to the gates and given her a rather sloppy kiss on the cheek; she'd turned and kissed him full on the mouth. He kissed her back, but after a minute they'd broken apart and stared at each other.
"Eugh," Hermione muttered. "That was like kissing Harry."
Percy had thankfully agreed that it was like kissing a sibling, and they'd decided to part ways as dear friends who'd had misplaced crushes on each other and never speak of the kiss again.
"Miss Granger," called Professor Snape, "We haven't discussed your new living arrangements."
"What?" Hermione asked. "I thought I'd just be staying in Gryffindor Tower?"
"Heavens, no," Professor Snape replied. "As an official Hogwarts apprentice, you are no longer a member of any House. You cannot win or lose House Points, you will no longer wear House colors, and you certainly will not live with any House. Your new apprentice robes are waiting in your new quarters."
Speechless, Hermione followed Snape down to a dungeon corridor she'd never been in before; it wasn't near the Potions classroom or anywhere she'd been on her rounds as a Prefect. Speaking of that, "Professor? Who's going to replace me as Gryffindor Prefect for my year?"
Snape smirked. Of course that would be her concern. "I believe that Miss Moon has been made Prefect."
"Oh, thank God it's Edna," Hermione whispered. "I couldn't bear it if Lavender got my place."
