A/N: I'm baaaack! This chapter is a bit short, but I figure it's better than nothing, especially after such a long while. I don't really have any excuse for my absence, other than that things have been uber insane, and I find peace in fanfiction. So here I am, peace-seeker extraordinaire! Remember, the Muse's favorites snacks are chocolate chip cookies and brownies! (And reviews.) :D

Also, when I was re-reading the story, as all naughty authors must do when centuries go by between updates, I found Snape was rather too nice in the previous chapter for my tastes, at least at this point in the tale. So, being a lazy schmuck today, I decided to make him a douche in this one, rather than rewrite the previous. If you feel like hitting him, then I've done my job.

Oh, yes. I almost forgot. As far as disclaimers go, there's a bit of naughty language/brief description of sexual acts in this chapter.

All your base are belong to JKR.

Hermione gulped, filled suddenly with hope for...something, as well as a warm feeling that soon resulted in her becoming distinctly wet between the legs.

"Do you have any idea how much paperwork is involved in being the Potions Master?" Severus groused. Hermione simply stared at this non sequitur. Transfiguration essays were also beasts to mark, she was sure, so she couldn't imagine why he was singling out potions. She actually couldn't imagine why he was bringing this up at all.

He turned dark, glittering eyes on her, and she squirmed with renewed hope.

"A lot," he told her unnecessarily. "It gets old, Miss Granger. Almost as old as those knickers."

Annoyance at this jibe meant she got her voice back, at least partly.

"Your point, Snape?" She prided herself that she sounded cold enough.

"My point, my dear, is that a Slytherin is never "nice" for nothing. We snakes expect...what is that Muggle term?...oh yes, a return on our investment." He rubbed his hands together.

At this point, Hermione was certain she'd have to change her underpants. But before that, she'd have to do laundry. Ugh. She huffed inwardly at this, wishing she weren't so negligent when it came to washing her things, and then promptly remembered she now had house-elves for that.

"Which means," he continued briskly, ignoring – or perhaps not noticing – the hope she was afraid was written all too clearly and pathetically all over her face, "if I am to help you clean up this room, I will be expecting your assistance with grading throughout the academic year."

"You're mad!"

He simply sat back on his heels, smirking at her. "I assure you, Miss Granger, I am not mad. I am simply taking advantage of a situation in which I find myself."

She spluttered ineffectually for about half a minute before she could even form a sentence. The deceptively fluffy dust clouds forming in the far corner of the room distracted her momentarily. They looked like they were up to no good.

"Firstly, I am perfectly capable of cleaning this room myself, so while I appreciate your oh-so-generous offer, you can take said offer and shove it. Secondly, grading assistance for an entire year is hardly a fair exchange for a tiny bit of help with cleaning."

The smirk persisted on his face. "While I applaud your use of the -ly adverbs, I will not, as you so eloquently put it, shove anything, nor will I be dragged into haggling with a chit who is so resigned to be an old cat lady that she wears blue tents and octogenarian knickers."

This was so pointless and incongruous and just plain cruel that Hermione gaped at him.

Crack! She hardly realized she had slapped him across the face, until she saw the hand print blossoming on his damned aristocratic-looking cheek. Even the sinister dust bunnies stopped whirling at that.

There. Surely that would show him. Now he would leave her alone.

If he had raged at her, or hurled invectives at her a la school-time, professor-mode Snape, or even threatened her, she would have been less surprised.

He laughed. She had never heard Snape laugh before. It was a deep, rumbling sound that sounded like dark velvet, and dark chocolate, and dark, tantalizing wine all wrapped in one. Lost in the sound, she gawped at him as he leaned towards her.

The closer he got, the more her stomach swooped. She had never felt like this before. He was so overwhelmingly big and male, and he smelled good, causing her appreciation to manifest itself not only in her pink cheeks, but in other places far lower down. She found her lips parting, head turning up...

...oh. He had reached past her for the book on the bedside table.

Well. That was rather sad. Instantly, she faked a sneeze.

He quirked an eyebrow at her. Obviously, he wasn't fooled by her attempt at explaining away her pursed lips and half-shut eyes, and she wasn't surprised, because it had sounded weak even to her ears, but at least he didn't say anything.

"As I was about to say, before I was attacked so viciously and undeservedly-" (Hermione blatantly rolled her eyes; obviously, he had a lot to learn about what not to say to women) "-you obviously do not know the first thing about cleaning if you are in possession of such a tome. Either let me help you, or resign yourself to giving up your Saturday deciphering household spells written by-" Here he paused, examining the cover, then dragging a finger under the name of the author as though to ensure that what he was seeing was, in fact, reality. "-Maude Marian o'Sunnyday." His lip twisted with disgust, an expression Hermione knew was mirrored on her own face.

"Maude Marian o'Sunnyday," he repeated. "What the fuck?"

Hermione couldn't suppress a giggle, not least at the slang term coming from his lips. It was the first time she had ever heard him use naughty language, and she supposed he was beginning to come to terms, at least subconsciously, with the fact that she was no longer his student.

This led, naturally, to imagining other naughty language coming from him.

"Spread your legs for me," he'd say. Or perhaps, "Let me lick your pretty pussy until you scream." Hermione read harlequins quite a lot, and therefore had plenty of material readily available for just such imagining purposes. Just the thought of his low, rolling voice forming such words made her blush and wriggle. The fact that this was her former Potions teacher didn't squick her at all. No. Sick fuck that she was, she was rather attracted by the notion of calling him sir in bed. She just bet he made women do that all the time, over-important, devastatingly sexy power-tripper that he was.

She blinked through the haze of her decidedly non-sharable thoughts to find him observing her, his head cocked on his shoulders in the manner of a pensive raven, and she wondered if he'd just been in her mind.

"Yes," she blurted, more to dispense with the moment than anything. Also, she wanted to hear his voice more. For that to happen, his caustic personality unfortunately also had to be in the room. "Your assistance would be welcome, Professor Snape," she added with what she hoped was more dignity.

"Well, then, let's get started." He rose gracefully from the floor, and she was struck by his height. Had he always been that tall? He towered over her. Then again, she was vertically challenged at 5'2", but she still didn't remember him being this much taller than her. Why, he had to have her out-sprouted by a foot at least!

The dust clouds in the corner seemed to take his height as a challenge, and rose up tall and formidable.

"Chop chop, Miss Granger," he barked, and she hopped up instantly like an obedient child. "Watch and learn."

And with that, he proceeded to prove that in addition to Potions Master, former Evil Minion, and Sneaky Spy Extraordinaire, his resume ought to include the title of Capable Cleaner. Where exactly the man had learned to do all of this, she had no idea, but being Hermione Granger, she did indeed watch and learn.

Unlike Hermione Granger, she was distracted by the view, and watched more than she learned.

;)

A/N: By now you have all probably figured out that even though I am writing from different POVs each chapter, I always give the other character's insight in the next one. We shall see what's going on in Snape's head soon enough. I haven't forgotten about the reward for my 100threviewer; stand by for that! :) Also, advance thanks to anyone who has continued to read this since its beginning, despite the recent lapse between updates.