Yeah, this is J.K. Rowling wasting her time writing fan fiction. Especially HGSS, because she didn't write anvil sized hints for RWHG in almost all the books. I'm totally getting money from this. Not. If I owned Harry Potter I would've written HPDH very differently, especially regarding the whole Snape dying part. I mean, I know she couldn't very well have an HGSS relationship after being such a RWHG shipper, but couldn't she at least have let him live and be happy? Was that so much to ask after he had such a crappy life? Ah well, at least we can fantasize in fan fiction.

The Bookworm

A small pop heralded Hermione's arrival outside the Hogshead, laden down with many shrunken bags and shivering in the cool breeze. It was dark and the moon was only a sliver tonight. Snape wasn't there, and Hermione's bags were growing heavy. Even though her library was the size of a baby watermelon, it still weighed the same as a whole library. She was glad to have Crookshanks with her, who even though he was in his carrier gave her moral support at least.

"Miss Granger." She heard in the voice that drove icicles of fear into Snape's student's hearts. She tried to whirl around, but her bags slowed her down. It was more a slow turn. There was Snape with the smallest smirk on his face, which for him was the equivalent of a Cheshire cat grin. Hermione had always hated Alice in Wonderland.

If he had been Harry she would've scolded him in heart beat, but alas for the respect that is due Professors, especially one you're going to be living with for the next 2 years.

"Good evening Professor, I thought you weren't here yet." She tried to keep her voice pleasant, but she couldn't prevent a drop of venom penetrating her voice. Snape's smirk grew even wider as he spoke in what she thought was a mock offended tone.

"Miss Granger there is no reason for you to take that tone with me. I'm merely keeping you alert. What if I had been a rogue Death Eater? If you had been keeping proper vigilance you would not have been startled."

Hermione had to literally bite her tongue to keep from snapping at him. Hermione had a temper, but Snape was a professor and respect always overrode any of Hermione's other feelings about a person. She took a quick breath and thought about what he'd said. It was reasonable, just like his N.E.W.T. had been. Difficult but reasonable. But she still hated that self satisfied smirk on his face.

He watched her internal struggle with a sneer, and decided he'd waited long enough.

"Come Miss Granger; take a hold of my arm so we may Apparate." She obeyed, and he turned back to her for a second. "I never agreed to the cat." She looked down at Crookshanks.

"But you never disagreed to him either sir." He nodded his head slightly.

"Fair enough." He twisted away from her and they were Apparating.

Hermione gasped for breath as she landed on the soft mud of a riverbank. She looked down at her feet. They were liberally coated in a mixture of mud and litter, while Snape's feet were firmly planted on broken concrete. Figures.

Snape jerked her away from the mud and up the riverbank, Hermione peering around her, trying to get her bearings. He rushed her through a small river-gate, and down a narrow cobbled street. There were brick houses on both sides, most of them boarded up and abandoned. She wrinkled her nose as a foul smell hit her nostrils and looked around for the source. She got a good look at the river and that was all she needed to know. The remains of an old mill was there too, which seemed to have been out of operation for several years. There was only the ancient chimney still standing erect, and it was the house that this chimney looked likely to fall on at any moment that Snape stopped and opened the door.

She entered a small sitting room, all four walls covered in books. Some people would've called the room oppressive. But to her it was like discovering a dragon's horde, with rare and out of print books everywhere. She didn't notice anything else about the room; she was far too busy browsing the shelves as Snape put the wards up. Snape broke her out of her reverie. "You'll have plenty of time to look at those later. But it's almost nine o'clock, and I keep early hours. Follow me if you want to sleep tonight, unless you like lumpy sofas." She finally ripped her eyes away and took a proper look at the room. It was covered with school year's worth of dust, the sofa did look lumpy and she hated sleeping upright in a chair. She hoped her bedroom was cleaner than this.

She expected Snape to go to the doorway at the other end of the room, but he waved his wand at the wall behind the armchair. It opened onto a small staircase, and he started up it. She followed and when they were at the very top of the staircase there was no doorway. Did he expect her to live on the stairs? But no, he was opening a trap door above them and a ladder descended just like at Divination.

She set her bags down at the bottom and followed Snape up the ladder. Snape had stuck her in the attic. He hadn't even bothered to clean it out a little. It was full of all sorts of trash, all of it covered in thick dust. Melted cauldrons, broken quills, and deflated footballs. She didn't know why the last one was there, but she didn't see a bed anywhere. Then Snape pointed it out to her underneath a pile of what appeared to be old newspapers and dirty rags. She shuddered, and reached for her wand to levitate the junk off her bed, and then perform a quick Scourgify. It wasn't there. She patted at her pockets, looked around the floor, even checked behind her ear like she was Luna Lovegood. No wand.

And then she looked up. Snape was holding her wand, inspecting it. "May I please have my wand back sir?" She asked, sticking her hand out. Maybe he was just checking to see that his new apprentice had a wand in good working order. If only!

"No, you may not." She almost ground her teeth together, a habit that her parents had spent years training out of her. She hadn't even gotten close to doing it since she was 10.

"Sir, may I ask the reason why not?" She asked in an almost sweet voice. Snape didn't even glare at her. It was a more pitying glance, as if he were saying 'How stupid are you if you think I'm that easy to manipulate?'

"You may." He stayed silent. She recognized the trick. She could ask the question, but he could choose not to answer it.

"Why can't I have my wand back?" She asked point blank, no honey or even a sir.

"Because it is my habit to confiscate the wands of my apprentices until I deem they are worthy to have the responsibility of a wand. It gives them something to strive for in their apprenticeship, and the only other way to get their wand back is to quit." She was shocked. She hadn't anticipated anything like this.

"But how am I supposed to brew if I can't use my wand? Many potions require spells cast over them."

"You'll be brewing first year potions that won't require any spells. And if you absolutely require a spell cast, you can ask me nicely and I might consider doing it." First year potions! Did he think that she was a baby! She'd brewed Polyjuice Potion in her 2nd Year and read every potion journal she could get her hands on since. She was Hermione bloody Granger, the girl who never gave 50, she didn't even give a 100, she gave 120 to every subject she ever took. (She conveniently forgot Divination during this time, but we'll have to forgive her for it. Anger causes selective memory.) She turned away as Snape went down the ladder, grinding her teeth madly to keep herself from losing her apprenticeship. Both parties had to agree to sever it, and if she did something that would cause Snape to want to get rid of her, he would make her life a living hell until she caved.

She stomped down the ladder, grabbed almost all her stuff in the first load. (Anger also causes stupidity to increase.) The ladder almost toppled, and she had to drop everything to prevent it, wincing as she did so. Thankfully nothing hit Crookshanks, but he meowed very loudly in protest. She breathed deeply for a moment or two and went back down the ladder and brought her stuff up properly. She gingerly cleaned the bed off, and then realized that she couldn't unshrink her luggage. But she let Crookshanks out of his carrier laid a clean-ish blanket on the bed and sat down, petting Crookshanks. It was nice to have an ally in the house, a friend who would look out for her.

She sat there, stewing, thinking. She had always thought that Snape was reasonable. Difficult, sarcastic, maybe even a tad bit nasty at times, but never without reason. There was probably a reason to his taking away her wand. Maybe it was to remind her what it was like to be a Muggle, and to learn to appreciate her magic properly. Maybe it was like he said, a goal to strive for. Or maybe he just truly detested her and wanted to get rid of her as soon as possible. That would be consistent if she had asked him for the apprenticeship, but he had offered it to her. She wanted to think about it more, but it was very late, and she was so tired physically and emotionally that she went straight to sleep without even realizing it.

Oh, just when you think Snape was getting nice. (Evil laughter smothered.) He didn't even bother to clean her room out a little! That bothers me the most. You've had a long day packing, are tired of dealing with a very irritating man, and you are ready to go to bed, and what do you have to do? You have to clean rags with unknown grime on them and newspapers with mouse poop on them off the bed you will then sleep on. I had a ton of fun writing this chapter. I truly forgot how much fun it is to write fan fiction. Guys, I'm really sorry for abandoning this for almost a whole year. But my dad really doesn't like Harry Potter and every once in a while he goes on an Anti-Harry Potter rampage and I was a little wary of bringing the books out to check certain points. And then I forgot it. Yes I'm evil. Not even a good evil like Snape, a very bad evil like the Carrows. I will accept the tomatoes thrown with good grace and then go to my computer and write more. Even if you don't throw hypothetical tomatoes you still should. Anyhow. Kudos to everyone who guessed it was the Beatles! To all writers of fan fiction everywhere: Do not abandon your readers, or else the guilt and stench of tomatoes will follow you everywhere. You can insert your least favorite food in place of tomatoes and that will equal how bad I feel. I know this chapter's kind of short, but I have a load of ideas. Expect a chapter at the latest by the end of next month.