Opening author's notes:
I remembered this morning I had forgot my disclaimer so here goes- The wonderful universe of Harry Potter belongs respectfully to JK Rowling and WB. I am in no way claiming to be the creator of any established characters, nor am I receiving any profit from this work of fiction. Now that that's done, please enjoy!
Hermione awoke to the heavenly smell of bacon drifting from a tray near the bed. She guessed the elves had declared her healed since her tray held the more appealing spread of bacon, scrambled eggs, sliced tomatoes and toast. She made a quick trip to the loo and straightened out the clothing that she had fell asleep in, noting in the mirror that her bruises were now gone. She found a toothbrush and paste waiting on the counter for her and gratefully brushed her teeth, feeling more human after completing the task. She rinsed a couple of times to banish the baking soda taste from her mouth and then lingered in the doorway, staring at the room. The room was cozy, it almost seemed like something she would have chosen as a bedroom. It was simple, the color scheme carrying the midnight blue from the study with the dull grey on the bed linens. She bet he would agree with her that busy patterns did not belong in bedrooms. She kept her own bed linens simple due to patterns often made it difficult for her to sleep. She glanced at the bookcases and found an urge to explore but stomped it down. She felt like it was snooping unless he had invited her to peruse. She suddenly felt restless; the weight of having spent most of the last few days in bed registering on her mind. She walked over and made the bed then scooped up the breakfast tray, making her way back to the study.
Finding no one in the study she made a beeline for the couch, depositing her tray on the coffee table. She spooned some eggs onto a piece of toast and placed a tomato slice on top, taking a bite and sighing in content at the coolness of the tomato and crispness of the bacon. Besides the half piece of toast she had ate last evening she realized she had no idea how long it had been since she had ate. She eyed the glass sitting on the table and slowly picked it up, uncertain of its contents due to the glass itself was dark. She cautiously took a sniff at the glass, dreading the smell of pumpkin juice. Instead she found the smell of oranges and pineapple filling her nostrils. She eagerly took a sip, relishing the cool, tangy combination as it slid down her throat. Pumpkin juice may bring a comfort to children raised in magical households, but to Hermione she missed the more tame orange juice she grew up with.
As she went back to noshing her toast she looked up as a door opened and her professor entered the room. "I was just coming to rouse you, Miss Granger." He stated in greeting. He noticed her tray sitting in front of her. "Is your meal to your liking? I ordered it myself. I hope I remembered correctly that you were not really inclined towards pumpkin juice."
She was baffled for a moment of how he could even be aware of what she liked, but then a memory came of a morning where they shared breakfast in the potions lab due to she had came down first thing in the morning to check on a brew. She had been so surprised that day when he had offered to order breakfast so they could continue their conversation. What surprised her even more was he remembered her requesting orange juice over the standard school beverage. "Thank you, sir. Everything is delicious." She replied, offering a small smile in gratitude.
"Did you sleep well?" He inquired, settling into one of the chairs opposite her.
"I feel much better."
He nodded in acknowledgement. "Our discussion will be brief this morning. I'll then allow you to floo to the infirmary so you can exit for your quarters. Your classmates believe you have been isolated there in recovery. No doubt Potter and Weasley are waiting to escort you back to Gryffindor. I have spoken to the headmaster this morning while you slept and we have come up plan to try and cover our current connection." He stretched out his arm and held a sealed scroll towards her.
Hermione stood and took it, breaking the wax emblem and read for a moment in silence. Her eyes grew large and she looked up at him as she clutched the paper tighter. "This is- is a…" She trailed off, feeling slightly dazed.
"An offer of apprenticeship." He provided. "I had intended to extend one at the end of the school year, but circumstances have made me hasten my decision. I know someone of your caliber would feel offended if this was offered simply as part of a ruse. I assure you that I feel you have earned this. I have a hope that maybe somewhere in all of this I can actually mentor to you so you can one day become a potions mistress."
"I'm- I'm honored sir." She felt a blush creeping across her face.
He waved her off. "No need for that Granger. You have earned it after all."
She noticed the change in address. "You called me simply Granger." she inquired.
"You have always been too sharp-witted to slide anything past you." He responded, his voice almost sounding pleased. "Yes, with your new roles as apprentice and…" he searched for a word. "servant, I need a term that defines you as not my equal. I think while I am your mentor I shall use Granger to address you and for the instances where I am Master I will address you as Pet." He watched her blush deepen and felt a faint stirring of discomfort from her. "I mean no disrespect Granger, but you must realize that your new role makes you beneath me. Hopefully these names will make the transition easier for you. By simply noting how I am addressing you, you should be able to discern how you should interact with me. In the classroom setting we shall of course maintain the formality that we have always had."
"How should I address you?"
"I believe professor will work for in the labs or during studies. You may call me Severus during informal times when we are in privacy. You should only address me as Sir or Master if you are serving me or in the presence of anyone you know to be on the Dark Lord's side."
"I understand sir."
"Good." He stood up and Hermione did as well. "It is a Friday. I've been informed that you have been given the day off to recuperate and catch up on any studies you may have missed. The headmaster has granted your companions the day off to make sure you rest. You will meet me in the potions classroom at eight this evening so we can start to lay the groundwork for both your apprenticeship and what memories I will provide to the Dark Lord." With that he swept out of the room and left her alone with the scroll still clutched in her hand.
Hermione sank back down onto the couch, feeling slightly numb. With all the events that had transpired over the past few days, elation should be the most remote emotion to her, but she could not help it. She broke into a grin as she carefully sat the scroll down beside her so she could finish eating. She was an apprentice. She felt certain that Severus Snape was unaware he had just fulfilled one of her dreams.
*~~~~~*
"'Mione!"
She temporarily had her breath stolen from her as both Harry and Ron crushed her in a death grip of a hug. Normally she would feel annoyed, but at the moment she felt warmth knowing they were trying to show her in their own way their concern. The moment she had stepped out of the infirmary they had tackled her, and entangled in their arms she realized how much she had missed their companionship. "Honestly!" She huffed at the two, trying to sound her normal bossy self. "I'm fine. No need to tackle me."
"Blimey, 'Mione. You had us worried sick." Ron said, a wounded expression written across his freckled face.
"Is there anything we can do for you?" Harry asked before she could even respond to the redhead.
"Walking me to my room so I could study would be lovely," she replied with a smile.
"Oy, she must be alright if she wants to study." Ron muttered under his breath.
She grinned at the boys and looped her arms through theirs, pulling them off towards the staircase. "Come on. You can tell me all about the lectures I missed in Potions class." She laughed as the boys groaned in unison and made her way to the dormitory, feeling better than she had since she first awoken.
The boys hung around her for awhile as expected, making sure she settled down comfortably onto one of the couches in the common room and getting her all the supplies she needed so she did not overexert herself. When it became obvious that she really did intend to ignore their request for games of exploding snap and chess to study, Ron wandered off after a while. Hermione was able to block out Harry's staring for about twenty minutes before she sat her book down and pointedly looked at him. "Yes Harry?" she prompted.
"I was just wondering if you needed to talk or anything." The young man sighed, then ran a hand through his hair, making it stick up even more so. "I may know what you're going through, and I'm a pretty good listener when given a chance."
A mixture of emotions swept through her as she looked at him. Pity. She knew Harry had endured Voldemort and Death Eaters trying to kill him first hand. Anger. How could he really have any idea how she felt? He had not been raped and tortured. Shame. How could she mad for a friend wanting to help her? Guilt. Even though part of her wanted to talk to her best friend and lean on him for support, she knew she could not risk giving away information that may put their professor at risk. "I appreciate the offer, Harry." She said at last. "But everything's all hazy. I think they used a memory altering spell on me."
He nodded at her, his green eyes sorrowful. "Right. Well, if you do need to talk, I'm here for you 'Mione."
She offered him a warm smile. "Thank you Harry."
He reached out and squeezed her hand for a moment then walked off to go find Ron. The rest of her study time was spent uneventfully and before she knew it, the clock began to chime the dinner hour. She gathered her supplies up and deposited them into the trunk at the foot of her bed then grabbed a hair tie from her nightstand and twisted her hair into a sloppy bun on the back of her head. She had still not been able to convince herself to change her clothes and simply slipped on her favorite pair of worn in trainers to wear down to the evening meal. She made small talk with her dorm mates at dinner, surprised that everyone avoided the subject of her abduction. She figured their head of house may have had something to do with it. She left the Great Hall promptly at seven and made her way to her room, curling up with her transfiguration textbook on her bed until the clock next to her bed read 7:45.
"Hey- where are you off to?" Ron inquired as Hermione was about to exit the common room.
"I have an appointment with professor Snape. He's extended me an apprenticeship offer and we are to discuss the terms."
Both Harry and Ron paused in their game of chess to stare at her. "Apprenticeship? Are you serious?" Ron asked, gobsmacked.
"Of course I am Ronald," She replied, some annoyance seeping into her tone. "It would be foolish of me to turn down such an opportunity."
"Fine," He grumbled, turning his attention back to the chess board. "It's your funeral."
A scowl crossed her face, but she refused to retort and quickly exited the common room.
*~~~~~*
Severus looked up from the scrolls strewn across his desk as a knock sounded on the door to the classroom. A quick glance at the clock showed the time to be eight. "Enter!" He called out as he gathered the scrolls from his work space and deposited them into a drawer for when he could later finish marking them. Hermione entered the class, quietly shutting the door behind her and walked forward to stand in front of his desk. "Good evening, Granger."
"Good evening, sir."
"Did you have some time to look over my offer?"
"Yes sir. It seems fairly standard. Three years tutelage in exchange for either the rights to anything I may produce under your mentorship or twenty percent of my first years' revenue once I have found gainful employment as a potions Mistress."
"And what have you decided?"
"I'll take the option of paying you twenty percent."
"Ah," Severus raised an eyebrow at her. "You surprise me, Granger. Most apprentices balk at the twenty percent, but you have proven to be of the rare group that realizes if you were to surrender rights to something successful you may indeed end up losing more than what you would give up in wages."
"Royalties are the gift that keep on giving." She agreed, proving she really did understand what was on the line.
Severus gave her an admiring look. "I sometimes wish all students grasped the meaning of things such as you do. You have the contract?"
She produced it from the pocket in her pants where she had placed it after reducing its size. She enlarged it and handed it over to her professor.
Severus marked on the contract that she had chosen his form of payment would be twenty percent of her revenue and he then signed his name at the bottom. He motioned her towards the desk and held the quill out to her. "Once you place your signature at the bottom, this is a binding contract." He stated as it was required of him to do.
"Just as I am bound to pay, you are bound to teach." She replied as she signed her name under his. After she lifted the quill from the paper it briefly glowed and then rolled itself up and disappeared with a pop that startled her slightly.
"Where did it go?" She asked, bewildered.
"It is at the Ministry of Magic to be officially filed. All apprenticeships must be legally documented with the Ministry."
"Oh."
He reached into his desk and pulled out the parchments he had been working on before she came in. "Now that it is official, why don't we adjourn to my study and I will teach you my method for grading essays. You will start to come down in the evenings and grade any assignments I may have given for sixth year and under. I will still grade the seventh years' so you cannot be accused of favoritism among your classmates." He motioned at the wall behind his desk and it shimmered, revealing another door hidden behind an illusion shield. He opened the door and swept in with her following after him as he deposited the scrolls on the coffee table. Using his wand he adjusted its height slightly to make it more comfortable to write on and conjured floor cushions for them to sit on.
He noted how she looked surprised but she offered no comment, simply taking the seat across from him as he settled down onto a cushion. He was sure most of his students thought he was constantly proper; but the truth was after his required office hours he would retire to his study to grade papers while he sat on the floor leaned against one of his chairs. He found something relaxing in having his knees bent at an angle while an old potions text would rest against his legs with the parchment stretched across it, acting like a makeshift writing surface. Throw in a glass of brandy and a fire crackling in the fireplace and you had the way he preferred to spend most of his evenings.
"Numerous things go into grading a potions essay correctly Granger…" He began as he spread a scroll out across the table. She leaned over to listen to him and follow along with what he pointed out, her cinnamon eyes moving back and forth as she read the lines. Severus quickly found his rhythm and lost himself in guiding her through the landmine of a student's paper.
After he was certain she knew what she was doing, he divided the scrolls between them and retrieved a quill for her along with a bottle of red ink. He muttered an incantation on the quill and handed it to her. "It's charmed to mimic my handwriting. We can't have it looking like I'm slacking off to the students."
She seemed to fight back a laugh at his comment. "Of course not, sir."
They worked in companionable silence, the only noise the sound of quills scratching across parchment, the fireplace occasionally popping or crackling. He became so lost in the seeming peacefulness of the situation that when the pain flared through his arm it startled him worse than normal. "Hell," He hissed as he dropped his quill and grabbed his arm in reflex, his fingers locked in a death grip around the dark mark.
"Are you okay, Sir?" Hermione asked in concern.
He glanced up at the clock that rested on the mantle. How had it become so late without him realizing it? "I'm being summoned. I'm afraid I lost track of time. Come here Granger," He motioned her onto his side of the table, as he tried not to focus on the pain flaring up his arm. "I need to look into your mind for memories I might be able to alter to appease the Dark Lord." She seemed uncertain for a moment, but nodded her consent. He fought to push the pain down and brought hand to her forehead while locking gazes with her. "Legilimens!" He whispered harshly, connecting their minds.
He searched through the haze of her mind, shying away from the memories of her torture to find the scene of when she first awoke and their conversation. He twisted it in his mind, making him seem more detached and uncaring of her feelings. He found the memory of her stripping in the bathroom examining her body and altered it to include him standing in the way observing her, coloring his emotions to give off the impression of pleasure at seeing her broken and helpless as she realized she was under his control. He pulled out of her mind as he began to craft the last memory he would present to the Dark Lord.
"Grab your quill," He snapped as he moved his hand from her face.
*~~~~~*
Hermione took hold of his quill, adrenaline making her feel slightly jittery. One moment, they had been quietly reading papers, the next she had been sitting in front of him, his black eyes boring into her as he plundered her thoughts.
"Write yourself a pass to get you back to your dormitory. Sign my name at the bottom. After you do that, I want you to contact the headmaster by floo to advise him I have left. You are then to go to your quarters. Understand?" There was a heated look to his eyes that sent a trill of unease through her.
"Will you be okay, sir?" She asked, anxious at seeing him in pain.
"I always survive somehow Granger." He seemed lost in his thoughts for a moment as he stared at her and then he backed away, standing up. "We will speak later," He ground out then disappeared into his bedroom, leaving her alone.
Hermione hastily scribbled out her hall pass, watching the charmed pen scroll his script across the page in an elegant, lazy manner that was the complete opposite of how she knew if it had been in her control would have been chicken scratch. Even in her anxiety she had the brief thought of how she should charm one of her own quills to mimic her perfect cursive so she could write faster and avoid her handwriting turning sloppy when she did so. After she finished she scrambled from her sitting position and quickly grabbed a pinch of floo powder out of the box on the mantle and threw it into the fireplace. "Headmaster's office," she called out as the flames flared green and she stuck her head. "Headmaster Dumbledore!" She shouted into the office, feeling somewhat off balance at the disembodied sensation that always seemed to accompany floo communication. She could see his office as if she were crouched in his fireplace, though her vision was tinted green.
"Miss Granger? Why are you using the floo at such a late hour?" Albus Dumbledore asked as he appeared in the room in a dressing gown and cap.
"I was assisting professor Snape with grading papers. He wanted me to inform you that he has left the grounds."
The headmaster nodded solemly at her. "Thank you Miss Granger for relaying the information. I'm assuming you are on your way to your quarters next?"
"Yes sir. But-" Hermione paused. "Should he be alright sir? He seemed to be in pain."
"He should be fine. Nothing yet has been out of the ordinary. Now, I bid you goodnight. Be careful on your way to the tower."
The floo connection broke and Hermione snatched her head out of the fire, paranoid of being burned when the flames went back to normal. Being muggleborn meant part of her thought one had to be barmy to willingly stick their head into a fire. She returned to the coffee table and straightened up the scrolls, making two piles that held the papers they had each been grading stayed separate. She left her quill resting on the side that she had been sitting and quickly banished their cups that he had produced at sometime in the evening back to the kitchens. Tucking her hall pass into the pocket of her jeans, she took one last look around and wished he had not asked her to leave. As soon as the door clicked shut behind her, she felt the wards seal in place, locking her out. She made her way to Gryffindor tower, trying to ignore the worry that began to twist in her stomach.