A/N: Hello, lovely readers! Did you miss me? I'm so sorry for this horribly late update, but I have a good excuse, I swear! I'm actually a college student (studying engineering) and we've just gotten through the first month of school, so things have been a little crazy. I hope to update more often, and the next chapter will be much longer, but here's something a little fluffy to brighten your day! I hope you like it! Please read and review!

"Darkness cannot drive out darkness: only light can do that. Hate cannot drive out hate: only love can do that."
― Martin Luther King Jr., A Testament of Hope: The Essential Writings and Speeches

Severus Snape was not in a good mood.

Causing an accident in the lab was embarrassing enough, but to have Miss Granger walk in on him like that? What was he thinking?! And that wasn't even the worst thing.

Severus sighed as he ran his hand through his new hair. The explosion had burned his hair all the way to the scalp, and Miss Granger had tried her best to regrow it, but magic could only do so much. He had styled it in the only way he knew how; the way his father always had. Shorter on the sides, longer on top, parted to the left. Originally the eerie resemblance to his father had startled him, but he was slowly getting used to it.

The new hair did have its advantages, however. He no longer had to tie it back when he was working, and he didn't get as overheated when he was brewing for long hours in the lab. It also suited his face much better, once he looked at himself in the mirror properly. The greatest disadvantage, he found, was that he could no longer spy behind long curtains of hair, and thus it was far more difficult to observe Miss Granger.

She had taken the entire incident rather gracefully, he had to admit. She had healed him with impressive speed and apart from her original rant, had said nothing else on the matter. In fact, she seemed to be avoiding him as of late, and often became rather flustered whenever they were alone together. Does she?...no. No, that's not possible, Severus. Don't try to fool yourself. She's just embarrassed that she saw you in such a compromising way.

As if in some divine response to his very thoughts, the door to the laboratory burst open, revealing Miss Granger carrying a large tea tray.

So much for avoiding me, he mused. He regarded her carefully and acknowledged her presence with a nod of the head before turning head back towards the fireplace that he had been previously staring at.

"Do you require something, Miss Granger? As you can see, I'm so dreadfully busy."

"Not particularly, sir," she replied. "The weather's starting to turn really bad now, and it can get drafty when you're not brewing down here, so I figured you might want some tea." As if to assure him that her intentions were honest, she prepared a cup and outstretched it towards him. Severus eyed the tea warily, but accepted it.

"As you can clearly see, I have resolved the…draftiness."

"Yes, but a well-made cup of tea often warms more than just the body, sir." Hermione prepared her own cup and sat in the armchair opposite Severus, daintily crossing her legs. Severus raised an eyebrow at her, surprised at her boldness.

"Don't you have to be annoying somewhere else?"

"No, I'm afraid I'm free for the remainder of the school term. As are you, remember?"

The only response Hermione received was a rather menacing scowl.

"Sir, if we're going to be stuck in this house for the next year, shouldn't we at least attempt to be friendly with each other?"

"I have no obligation to be 'friendly' with a nuisance such as yourself."

"Nuisance?! I was the best student you ever had!"

"You were, and are to this day, the most annoying student I have ever had."

"I was hard working and attentive!"

"You were an over-achiever and a showoff. Excuse me, are."

"You were a completely unfair professor!"

"I rewarded those with a natural talent for the art of potions."

"And is my help-"

"Your presence is merely at Albus's insistence, girl,"

"-not a sign of my natural talent for potions?"

Severus rolled his eyes. "Are we going to forget the fact that it took you not two, not three, but four attempts to produce a sufficient cake for your own birthday?"

Hermione's brown eyes turned cold. "And are we going to forget that on that day, I potentially saved your life?"

Severus opened his mouth to retort, but closed it quickly, drawing his cheek between his teeth. The girl had a point, he potentially owed her a life debt. There was always the chance that he would have survived on his own, of course, but even still, he would have never been able to regrow his skin on his own.

"Fine," he conceded. "I suppose, if it would make this living situation more bearable, you may spend time down here."

"Excellent," Hermione replied smugly, scooting further into her chair. "Now, if we're going to be friends, I simply must know more about you!"

Severus groaned inwardly and pinched the bridge of his nose. How is it that regret could fill a person so quickly?

…..

Hermione lay underneath her covers that night, wishing for her mind to calm. She had ended up staying with Professor Snape for nearly four hours that afternoon, although he had refused to answer any of her questions for the first forty-five minutes. After that, however, he had caved and Hermione had a completely new side of the dark Professor to analyze. He was an only child and both of his parents had died when he was still at Hogwarts, and he had no family to speak of. A half-blood, he had not been well received in Slytherin house, but was tolerated for his skill in academics and his knack for inventing rather nasty jinxes. By the end of the second hour, she had broken past another wall of his and learned much nicer things about him. His favorite color was surprisingly not black, but hunter green. He enjoyed music, but only classical muggle music. During his summers away from Hogwarts, he would take chemistry classes from a small muggle college. The Dark Lord had only allowed it under the pretenses of "learning the enemy's weaknesses." At the end of hour three, she had worn away even more boundaries. Professor Snape was extremely proficient at piano, but had not played in several months. He preferred Bram Stoker to Mary Shelly, and absolutely despised the telly.

Allowing herself to sink further into the unbelievably old mattress, Hermione smiled to herself and pulled the covers over her smile. As she drifted off into an easy sleep, the last thought to shoot through her mind was how unbelievably handsome Professor Snape looked when he wasn't frowning.