Chapter 21

Hermione stayed out of the bedroom, reading her crafting books on the couch by the fire and, alternatively, pretending to read them while worrying about Snape's reaction to her prying. She was sure that a private person like Severus would hate her invasion, that he would yell and hiss and be so angry he'd never speak to her again. Finally, Snape came down the stairs, eyes bleary with his hangover. Hermione bit her lip but nodded to him, with a vial in hand. Her shame from the previous night flooded through her, and she couldn't meet his eyes. Her magic seemed to clutch to him in desperation, pulling at him and trying to keep him. It only made her more nervous. He was definitely going to send her away now. She sat up and didn't look in his eyes, not even when he took the vial from her.

"For hangovers," he guessed. "Have you had any?"

"I'm fine," Hermione insisted guiltily. "I tried, but I don't think I can get drunk. Sorry."

Snape groaned at the revelation. "You dealt with me completely sober?"

Hermione nodded, her heart tearing. "It makes what I did even worse, I know. I'm sorry, Severus."

She heard Severus sigh. He sounded disappointed in her, she thought, so when Severus scooped her up into his arms she was still with shock. He picked her up as easily as a sack of potatoes before sitting down on the couch where she had lain, her perched in his lap. He held her tightly, as if at any moment she would leave. She held him the same way. They held each other for a long moment. Hermione wasn't willing to speak first, so they sat there, wrapped in each other, until Severus was ready.

"There are some things I can't tell you yet," Severus's lips were at his ears, his voice begging and sad. "And there are some things I can't tell you until the Dark Lord is well and truly dead. Do you understand that?"

"Yes," Hermione whispered, afraid of what was coming next.

"So long as you accept that, you never need to be afraid to ask me anything," Snape told her, his hand stroking her back tenderly. "I'm mad that you went to Lupin, of all people, but I'm not mad at you for wanting answers. Tonight, if you like, we can set aside some time to talk about what you learned from the wolf and take it from there."

"Wait, you're not going to yell at me?" Hermione asked, surprised. "Get mad at me? Tell me you don't want me anymore?"

Snape brought her face down to hers for a tender kiss. Her tension left her at his intimate acceptance, and she melted into his lap. When he pulled away, he held her face in his large hands and looked through her with his black, unfathomable eyes.

"Hermione," he said softly, "don't think for a moment anything you could do would make me want you less. I will not yell at you. I will not raise my voice to you. I will not hurt you, no matter what you do to me."

"What?"

Severus shook his head, as if shaking out a thought. "Hermione, I promised myself a long time ago that if there was ever a woman who cared enough to endure my presence and to trust me with her feelings, I would never give her a reason to be afraid. Even if I thought you'd done something wrong, I would never want you to be afraid of me. Sorry, maybe, but definitely not afraid. In my mind, yelling at or demeaning a woman in your care is nearly as bad as beating her. I will not be that man, and I hope you'll never need to worry that I will be."

"But I went behind your back," Hermione insisted. "I didn't even wait for you to tell me no, I just ran off with the first bit of information you gave me. You deserve to yell at me, you deserve to be upset."

"I gave you a fraction of knowledge last night in my stupor, which is entirely to blame on me getting drunk in your presence," Severus stated as if it was an obvious explanation. "Any person would have wanted answers, but you, witch, you are the most curious of all the students at Hogwarts. Of course you would go seek out answers. I could not expect anything else of you. Why would I be mad for you following your nature?"

Hermione's eyes welled up in tears. "How can you just forgive me?"

"Because you are you," Snape stated simply. Seeing her confused face, he continued. "Would anyone believe Hermione Granger would take advantage of someone? Never. You care so much about everything and everyone, so much so you feel guilty for getting what limited information the wolf could provide to you. You would never do something to hurt me intentionally, and that makes your actions more than forgivable. They don't even need to be forgiven."

Hermione kissed him furiously, tears streaming down her face at his admission. She loved him, loved him with her whole heart. She would die for this man.

"You are too good to me," Hermione whispered, her voice thick with tears.

"I don't deserve you," Snape whispered back, his voice sounding much the same as hers, "and if I don't deserve you, I certainly don't deserve to hurt you in any way. Never believe you deserve any ill-treatment, Hermione."

"So we won't argue?" Hermione teased lightly.

"Oh, we'll argue," Snape promised, his eyes lightening with a portion of mirth. "You thrive on debate, little witch, and I would never deny you the opportunity to go up against a superior opponent."

Hermione openly scoffed.

He smirked, then, tenderly, placed his forehead to hers in a sign of intimacy and trust. "But I will not sacrifice what you're giving me for any perceived wrongs or rights. I'm far too self-serving for that."

He looked like he was going to keep going, so Hermione latched herself to his mouth to show him just how much his words meant, how she felt, how much he meant to her in return.

Hermione sighed against his lips. "I don't deserve you either."

When they finally got to breakfast, Dolores Umbridge's seat was no longer next to hers. Whether she had taken it up with Dumbledore or whether it was a convenient move to place another new Professor next to her, she wasn't sure. Professor Plank seemed a genuinely nice guy, but she worried over Hagrid's absence. She knew he was visiting his family's giant clan, trying to convince them to their side, and he was set to return a couple of days ago. Worse, the new Professor's presence made his absence painfully clear. She may know he was missing, but that's because she was in the Order; to have this new professor here plainly showed that the Order was up to something, and anyone with half a brain could figure that out.

Severus seemed to agree. It was not only dangerous for the Order for Hagrid to be missing, but to Severus himself. He would need to report to the Dark Lord soon, she knew, and tell him what Dumbledore said of Hagrid's absence. Even if he lied outright that he had no idea, Voldemort would be able to guess where the half-giant had gone.

Hermione didn't have too much time to worry about it, though, as she was beginning her morning with two classes, both Gryff/Slyth classes, first and second years. She'd be done for the day after that, but the fact that she couldn't even observe Severus before plunging straight in had her anxious. Severus released her from breakfast early to prepare.

She hurried to her little station in the corner of the Potion's classroom and went through her lesson plans. That was where she was when she heard footsteps in the corridor. It was only seven thirty, still a half hour to class. Breakfast had just ended. She snuck to the door to listen.

"I can assure you, my apprentice is being taught to temper herself," a familiar voice drawled. "I've administered her discipline for her outburst over dinner and she is aware that her behavior is unacceptable, particularly in front of the students. You needn't concern yourself. I am, after all, quite a competent master."

"I just worry about her influence, Severus," a sickly-sweet voice replied. Umbridge. "We wouldn't want our youngest charges learning disrespect from someone like her."

"I will be overseeing the bulk of her lessons, Dolores," Snape replied firmly, "and should she fail me in any way I will be sure to correct her. While my apprentice does lack in many of the social refinements you might find in a more distinguished person, of course, she is the youngest graduate of 200 years and I must make use of her. If I hadn't taken measures to ensure her acceptance of me as her Master, she would have accepted an apprenticeship with Minerva. Surely that would be . . . undesirable for your aims?"

She could practically hear the horror on Umbridge's face. "Oh, I agree, that could well have been disastrous. No, quite right, best she learn to behave from you, and I trust you will bring her up to standard. Yes, I'll see to it her placement with you isn't questioned, but then again, I wouldn't worry. You, of course, have the confidence of Lord Governor Malfoy and some of the senior members of Wizegamot."

Her tone shifted from polite to more . . . calculating. "But speaking of our esteemed Deputy Headmistress, I fear Minerva lacks the temperament for the true discipline that many of these students need."

"She is far too charitable to many of her little cubs," Severus' voice held obvious disdain, "but whatever her deficiencies in discipline, her talent in teaching Transfiguration is well recorded. There is no doubt that her mastery in the subject does credit to the school."

"Yes, well, certainly so," Umbridge agreed reluctantly. "Still, her light-handed approach doesn't make for the most well-behaved of houses, does it Severus? I wonder how she earned her position of Deputy."

"Indeed," Snape drawled. "Dolores, I thank you for this stimulation conversation, but unfortunately I have an apprentice to correct and a classroom to prepare. I must beg my leave. Unless there was another grievance I need to address?"

"Oh no, Severus, you were very helpful," Dolores tittered.

"Should my apprentice lose her senses again, do bring it to my attention," Severus offered. "I can trust you will do the same for members of my house?"

"Of course!" Umbridge proclaimed. "I'm going to be quite busy making changes around here, you know, and I don't think the other heads of house will be quite as willing to conform as you are. It's going to drive me to distraction to handle even three houses on my own. I am glad to have you to rely on, Severus."

"I am at your disposal," Snape replied deferentially. "Dolores."

Hermione skipped away from the door quickly and plopped herself into her desk chair before the door opened to reveal her paramour. She raised his brow at her, then rolled his eyes. He knew she'd heard. Before she could comment, he cast a series of charms on the door and came to stand in front of her small desk.

"I assume you heard my discussion with Umbridge?" Snape quirked his brow.

She nodded.

"Questions?"

"You're so . . . charming to her," Hermione said with a cringe. "How on earth can you avoid gagging?"

Snape rolled his eyes. "You are very much a product of your house. Most people would question the content of the conversation first, but no, it's the lack of vomit that warrants your concern. I'll have you know, little witch, that the rest of us understand the need for making allies in less desirable people."

"And in exchange for her deference," Hermione noted, "you punish me?"

Snape's eyes darkened. "It would be my pleasure to punish you, Hermione. You need only say the word."

Hermione felt a shiver down her spine at his seductive tone.

"Still," Snape's tone became more serious, "your offense gave me an opening to earn her confidence and to facilitate a defense for the students in my house foolish enough to earn her censure. These are opportunities that I cannot pass up on. Dolores Umbridge is more than just unpleasant, and she has plans that we need to know in order to deter. Surely you understand the need for a two-faced alliance."

Hermione nodded sadly. "Friends close, enemies closer. Still, she's horrible. And she's expecting me to treat her with respect now? I'm not sure I can do that."

"You need to trust my judgement, Hermione," Snape insisted. "If you want to give her her due, fine, but it must be discreet and untraceable. There will be opportunities to stop her and upset her along the line, but you must be patient and wait for them."

Hermione sank back into her seat, her heart already tired and the day only just beginning. "What are the chances of her finding a reason to give Harry detention within five minutes of meeting him?"

Snape sighed. "There's no need to find a reason. She is a mouthpiece for the Ministry propaganda within the school. She will deny the Dark Lord's return, and Potter will defy her. No need to find a reason when you can provoke one."

"Why does she like you, then?" Hermione asked. "Surely as a Death Eater you would be the first able to confirm his return."

Snape was silent.

"You haven't confirmed it?" Hermione demanded. "Why?"

"I have two masters, neither of which wish me to do so," Snape answered stiffly. "For Dumbledore, it is for my own protection; I ended the previous war redeemed for my choice in the eyes of the public. To say I had returned to his side and seen the Dark Lord would be devastating to both his and my public image."

"And You-Know-Who wouldn't want you to confirm his return anyways," Hermione finished, her heart heavy.

Severus was in the middle of a war, on both sides, and he hid it so well that sometimes even she forgot that if Voldemort called, he would answer and do whatever was asked of him. Like she would if he were in danger. The thought stopped her. She would do what was needed if he was in danger, so why couldn't she do it when he wasn't? He wanted her to act respectful to Professor Umbridge, for his own benefit, so she should do it. No, she would do it.

"I'll help you with Umbridge," Hermione murmured. "Whatever you need, Severus, I'm here."

With that, the stiff demeanor of Snape melted. She rose from her desk to embrace him and they shared a tender kiss.

"Are you ready for your first day of teaching?" Snape murmured to her, cupping her cheek.

She groaned. "Don't remind me. I'm so worried they aren't even going to listen to me. You heard what the Slytherins thought yesterday."

"Your classes won't think so," Snape pointed out. "You're a gorgeous witch willing to spare them lessons with Professor Snape and his point-heavy hand."

"Severus," Hermione laughed.

"And if they don't respect you, you take points," Snape finished. "In the first and second year classes, a single loss of points is often enough to silence them for a whole period. You'll do fine. Their practical lessons aren't until later this week, at any rate, so you just need to hold their attention for lecture."

"And how do I do that?" Hermione challenged, her tone teasing. "I'm not quite as dramatic as you."

Snape smirked. "Well, if you were to lose these concealing robes . . ."

He unbuttoned the red robes with one hand, his other arm holding her tight against him. With her corset-top now revealed to his perusal, his hands ghosted over her breasts through the fabric, making her moan.

"I can guarantee at least half the class will provide you their undivided attention," he promised, his voice smooth and deep, vibrating through her. When he used his voice on her she couldn't have cared less. She just wanted his undivided attention.

"You are a dangerous man, Severus Snape," Hermione breathed.

"I believe it was you who wanted me, witch," he murmured low in his throat. "Having second thoughts?"

"Never."

That was the right answer. She knew he felt more than inadequate at times, but whenever she told him she was sure, she wanted him, or any variation he kissed her as if to reassure her that he was worthy of her choice. "I love seeing my insignia on you, Hermione," he growled against her lips. "I feel as if I have a claim to you."

"You do," Hermione assured him breathily, claimed another kiss. "I am yours."

He captured her lips firmly then, taking her breath away. After a moment, he broke away from her. "Apprentice Granger, I believe you have a class in ten minutes, and they may need to be able to open the door."

Hermione chuckled, but nodded as she disengaged from Severus' embrace. Conjuring a reflection of herself, she grimaced at the tendrils falling from her attempt at containment.

"You wrecked my hair," she complained.

Snape chuckled behind her. "I think you look thoroughly ravished."

"Exactly," she answered primly. "It's not how I should greet my class."

She heard him put down something behind her before she saw him appear next to her in the mirror with an intense look. "Allow me."

Severus slowly unentangled her hair from its elastic containment, letting it fall feely to its full waist-length curls. His fingers brushed through the messy tangled, brushing over the best of curls. Eventually all pretense fell aside and he pressed his lips to her neck.

"I prefer your natural hair," Snape murmured into her neck, raising her heartrate. "Your long curls that frame your face and drape down to your petite waists . . . You look like the nymph you are, free and beautiful and wild."

"Mmm," Hermione sighed. "Severus, I need to let the class in."

"You were so stressed," he defended with a teasingly low huskiness to his voice. "Have I relaxed you sufficiently, my witch?"

"You may have done too well at that," Hermione admitted with a blush.

Snape kissed her neck on last time and released her. "I look forward to seeing your teaching style, Apprentice Granger."

"I strive to impress you, Master," she teased.

"Witch," he growled. "Admit the runts before you tempt me into actions you are not yet prepared for."

Hermione blushed, but refused to go to him for another kiss. Instead, she stomped forward to the door and released the warding before opening it wide, revealing a set of small, concerned first-years.

"Come in and take your seats," Hermione instructed. She looked over each student as they entered, trying to upraise them before they could her. A few Slytherins had obviously been in the common room the night before and probably heard the older students berate her after she left. They had their heads lifted high, sure of themselves. The Gryffindors had obviously taken to heart the Weasley twins' chanting the night before, because they gave her wide smiles which were returned affectionately.

When the clock chimed the hour, Hermione closed the door and took to standing next to Professor Snape, who was standing in place at the front of the room.

"There will be no need for your wands yet in this class," Snape barked, making several first-years scramble to shove them in their bags. "Potions class is not about incantations and wand movements like your other subjects. It is an exact science with set results for set behaviours. Your lack of ability to perform in this class is not a result of your perceived magical ability or talent, but of your intelligence, diligence, and study. If you wish to slack off in your studies, this is not the subject nor I the instructor to allow you. In my experience, lazy idiots end up covered in the contents of their cauldrons, missing fingers, or poisoning themselves."

He said 'poisoning' with such relish that Hermione saw several students visibly gulp. She fought to keep a straight face at Severus' obvious enjoyment.

"You were informed last night that the instructor for your year level would be Apprentice Granger," Snape continued, looking at his class. "That is correct. Do not think this means your incompetence will be in any way overlooked or your grading will be any easier, however. I will be here to observe. Every. Last. Lesson. I will not allow you to go undisciplined, and I will assist if necessary."

"He means if we mess up," one voice whispered.

"Five points from Gryffindor for speaking out of turn," Snape snapped at the offending boy. "Manners are important, even if you are correct. And you are correct, Mr. . . ?"

"Kent, sir."

"Mr. Kent," Snape nodded at the boy. "You are correct. If I am required to aid in your lessons you can assume you have made an error so egregious that there will be a significant loss of points. Do NOT allow this to happen."

He glared at the Gryffindor side of the room. "You will receive a grade for every class period, - including this one - every potion you brew, and then a midterm and final. If you wish to perform at even an acceptable level, you will need to perform well consistently. You all came with a Potion's Kit, size 2 pewter cauldron, and a copy of Magical Drafts and Potions, correct?"

Murmurs of 'yes' or 'yes, sir' chorused through the room, earning a nod from the Professor.

"Very well," he allowed. "Apprentice Granger, they are yours."

He swished his cloak as he moved around to take his seat behind his desk, eyes watching her and the class for a moment before opening a text to read. He was clearly doing this so she could teach as she wished, with no interference from him. She avoided feeling badly for her planned lesson, but she couldn't help it.

"Welcome to first-year potions," Hermione smiled. "I'm sure Professor Snape welcomes you to his class as well."

She could nearly hear the eye-roll behind her.

"I am your teacher for this year, at least," she told them, "so I think you and I should get to know each other before we go about the rest of the semester. I'm sure you all have questions for me, and I would like to get to know you a little bit."

She summoned a chair to her wandlessly and sat, lowering herself and making herself more approachable to the students.

"This is the only time this semester that I will allow personal questions to be asked during class," Hermione told them. "Ask anything you want. The only rule is that when you have a question, you raise your hand and when you're called upon you give me your name. Seem fair?"

The students nodded, so Hermione waved her hand. "Alright, who has a question?"

Nearly the entire class raised their hands. She called on the first row.

"You."

"Hannah Clements, ma'am," the tiny Gryffindor introduced herself nervously. "Is it true you're friends with Harry Potter?"

"Harry is one of my best friends," Hermione answered happily. "Has been since my first year. He's a perfectly normal guy, though, so don't feel shy about saying hi to him in the common room."

She pointed to the next hand.

"John Steinwick," the boy said. "Is Harry Potter telling the truth? Has You-Know-Who returned?"

A book snapped shut behind her. She turned to see Professor Snape no longer sitting there relaxed, instead glaring at her as if she had just killed someone. The room froze.

"Yes, Apprentice Granger," Snape ground out. "Tell us about the delusions of your supposed friend. That seems like a wonderful use of class time."

Hermione tried to guess what he wanted her to do. Deny it? No, he wouldn't expect her to. But anything she said reflected on him, and she frowned as she turned to answer Mister Steinwick.

"Harry is certainly not crazy, if that is your question," Hermione told him firmly. She should avoid answering. "But if you're the kind of person who believes nonsense tabloids like the Prophet, I'm afraid that no matter what I say you'll decide it's not flowery or elaborate enough to believe. So I'll simply say this; if you want to know the truth of what really is going on, you can't rely on what you read or hear. Take a look at what is happening. Take a look at the deaths all across the country that the Ministry ignores or writes off. Look at the death of Cedric Diggory, which was clearly the result of an Unforgivable. Look at the fear. Whether you believe You-Know-Who is back or not, something is clearly wrong and you need to prepare yourselves."

"Apprentice Granger," Snape snapped behind her, "now is not the time for your sanctimonious speeches. If you insist on using class time for this pointless activity, I suggest you move on to the next question."

Wrong response. Hermione felt ashamed but nodded, thanking John before pointing to the next hand. A Slytherin.

"Cassius Fawley," the boy announced. "And is it true you're only fifteen?"

"It's my sixteenth birthday on the nineteenth," Hermione told him with a secret smile. "Why, are you planning on getting me a present? It won't make me go easy on you, but it is a kind gesture nonetheless."

"Actually, I was wondering if you had a boyfriend," the boy announced with a wink, earning giggles from around the room.

Hermione laughed, then immediately covered her mouth to stop the escaping laughter. "I'm sorry, I shouldn't laugh. It's just . . . Mister Fawley, which of your classmates dared you to ask that?"

The boy, not used to being caught, finally looked a little embarrassed.

"It's alright," Hermione said. She mentally crossed her fingers and answered his question, "No, I am currently not in a relationship. To those of you who are about to ask, I am NOT dating Harry Potter, and I'm NOT dating Viktor Krum, although we do still owl each other every now and again. Did that answer your question?"

The boy nodded. She thanks him and called on a girl in the back row.

"I'm Helena Avery," the little girl announced. "I was wondering how a Gryffindor like you came to be Professor Snape's apprentice."

Hermione nodded, but hesitated, hoping Snape would interject. She hadn't asked what their cover story was, and she wasn't willing to do it.

Hearing her hesitation, Snape interjected. "After receiving her NEWT scores, Headmaster Dumbledore approached me to apprentice Miss Granger. You will find, Miss Avery, that houses no longer matter when you graduate, only how you conducted yourself. Apprentice Granger's scores speak for her, and they speak highly."

She motioned to the next student. "What did you score?"

The rest of the class was relatively easy. When they finally ran out of questions, she took them through their Potion's Kits and familiarized them with their equipment, including reminding them to never sharpen their knives magically for class, as it would affect the magical properties of whatever they're cutting. By the end of class, she was happy and feeling like her earlier mistake was forgotten. Almost. When the First Years started carting out of the room, Severus pulled Hermione towards his desk and cast a Muffliato around them

"That was not wise, Hermione," Snape told her sternly.

"I know," Hermione sighed. "But if I didn't answer they'd think he hadn't come back."

"Your response was fine," Snape dismissed quickly. "I was referring to letting yourself be questioned by toddlers in the first place."

"So . . . not doing that for the second years, got it," Hermione affirmed.

"Good girl," Snape approved, smirking at her. His eyes darkened slightly. "In case you were wondering, I consider you very much in a relationship, little witch. Don't you forget it."

The second years had a harder time calling her Apprentice Granger, but overall the class went well. She prepared them for the potions curriculum for the year, and got them to cut Murtlap Tentacles for their next lesson.

The next lesson was the one she was dreading; Fifth Year Double Potions. They had 25 minutes before that class was supposed to start and Severus, sensing her nerves, took her aside and into the supply cupboard.

"You have no reason to be worried," Snape told her emphatically.

"Tell me what I need to do," Hermione told – or begged – him. "I don't want to mess up in front of Malfoy."

"Do everything I say and nothing I don't," Snape said simply. "This is not your class to lead, Hermione, it is mine. You will stand at my side and listen as I give them instruction. When I tell you, you will walk around and make sure your idiot classmates don't muck up the Draught of Peace. If you do something I wouldn't want, I will tell you. If your classmates disrespect you, I will punish them. That is all there is to it."

Hermione took a few Occlumency breaths, trying to clear her mind, but nodded.

"Good girl," Severus approved gently, brushing his hand over her curls gently. "Now, come help me set up for the lesson."

Unfortunately, Harry and Ron decided this would be the first day in recorded history where they would come to Potion's early. Professor Snape was putting away the minced Murtlap tentacles and Hermione had on a set of protective gloves and was dividing up the powdered moonstone manually when Harry and Ron gingerly entered the room.

"'Mione!" Ron and Harry were clearly relieved not to see Professor Snape around, so they deposited their cauldrons and books onto their desks and ran up to greet her.

"That outfit is . . . different, Hermione," Harry noticed, especially noting the corset.

"It went with my boots," Hermione joked at him. "Hey, if I live in the dungeons, might as well look a little like I fit in. Mrs. Weasley would never let me wear it, that's for sure."

"You look hot," Ron grinned. "Wanna go to Hogsmeade with me?"

"In your dreams," Hermione teased her friend. "So, what rumours are circulating that brought you down here early? I know there has to be at least one."

"Did a first year really ask you out?" Ron asked her, clearly excited.

Hermione looked at Harry with an incredulous look. He shrugged. "The first years kept coming up to us asking if we were going to beat him up for you. We told them you can handle yourself."

Hermione rolled her eyes. "Honestly. I stupidly opened myself up for questions and a first-year asked if I had a boyfriend. He didn't ask me out."

"Thank Merlin for small mercies," she heard Severus drawl from behind her. "I was nearly forced to take points from my own house for propositioning a member of staff."

Hermione laughed before she could help herself. Ron and Harry looked at her like she was insane. She coughed awkwardly.

"However, it will be my pleasure to take five points from you, Mister Weasley, for the offense," Snape jeered. "Five points, Mister Weasley. Apprentice Granger is off-limits to students, is that clear?"

"So she can't date?" Ron demanded. "Who do you think you are?"

"Ron!" Hermione chastised quickly. "He is my Master, remember?"

"Mister Potter, Weasley, is there a reason you're distracting my apprentice?" Snape intoned with menace.

"We're here early and wanted to talk," Harry snapped at him. "Is that not allowed?"

"Harry!" Hermione yelped.

"Five points for cheek, Potter," Snape ground out. "I suggest, if you are here early in the future, you find your seat and prepare for the lesson. You'll need the additional time to even perform moderately well, if I recall your dismal performance from last year correctly."

They looked ready to pounce on Severus, who was enjoying every second of the interaction. She needed to diffuse the situation before it got worse.

"They are students, Master Snape," Hermione said deferentially. "Can I instruct them on the potion for today?"

Snape's glare was lessened when he looked on her. "Very well. I suppose Potter could use the additional assistance. Finish dividing up the moonstone and fetch the syrup of hellebore from the store cupboard and then you may pursue an academic discussion with your peers before the lesson begins."

Hermione jumped to perform his instruction. Harry and Ron trudged over to their table unhappily, determined to ignore Professor Snape's instruction to read ahead. Finally, with ten minutes left before class, she put the vials of hellebore on the supply table and jumped over to her friends' table, happy with Severus' concession. She found out quickly they were not.

"How can you let him boss you around like that, Hermione?" Harry demanded when she came over.

"He's really not that bad, Harry," Hermione defended him quickly. "He just . . . hates people."

That came out wrong, but her friends both guffawed at her descriptor.

"I didn't mean it like that," Hermione snapped. "I'm his apprentice, I'm supposed to do the grunt work for him. It's not really bossing me around. And you know, if you earned his respect, he really is quite pleasant company."

Her friends clearly didn't believe her.

"And overlording over your dating life?" Ron demanded, angry. "That's wrong! How do you not cuss him out when he does that?"

Hermione tried to reply as casually as she could. "He expects me to work hard for my Mastery, Ron. I'm not supposed to have spare time to date, let alone allow my focus to be anywhere but my studies. Most Masters expect the same thing."

She was out of time; the first of the Slytherins were coming in. She took their potion text from them and opened it to the Draught of Peace before putting it on the table. "This is what you're brewing today. Don't forget the hellebore, and make sure you stir your potion while adding the powdered quills so you don't add too much and overshoot the turquoise colouring."

Then, leaning forward, she whispered, "Should I come see you in the common room tonight?"

Both boys nodded eagerly.

"We'll let you in at seven," Harry told her. "Unless . . . you're a teacher, don't you have the passwords?"

"Only for Slytherin," Hermione admitted. Seeing their excited looks she shook her head. "Don't even think about it."

She left to go to the front of the classroom and approached Severus. He cast the ward-like muffling charm non-verbally again and leaned in to speak with her.

"Your friend asked you to Hogsmeade," Severus commented, his eyes narrowed.

"He's been doing that since we made up for the Yule Ball fiasco," Hermione dismissed his concerns easily. "He wasn't convinced I was a girl, and so he sometimes reminds me that he remembers. It's what friends do."

"Really?" Snape quirked a brow. "I'll suspend my disbelief."

"Are you going to treat Harry this way all year?" Hermione asked. "Not that you don't normally, but . . . I mean, you got more comfortable with me. You could-"

"Even if I didn't despise Potter and his attitude," Snape replied, "how do you think the Dark Lord would react to know I treated his enemy with even a modicum of kindness?"

Her stomach sank. Of course.

"The same way he'll react if I disobey you publicly," Hermione acknowledged. "I understand. I just wish . . ."

Snape nodded sympathetically. She wished she could kiss him, but even if the class couldn't hear their words, they would still see even the slightest affection she offered him. Still, her magic surrounding him gave her a portion of the intimacy she craved, and she relished in the feeling in its place.

He leaned closer to her, his eyes intense. "Should I survive the conflict, and should you still want me by your side at the end of it, I will consider reconciling with Potter. Please understand that I'm not dismissing your friends out of sheer prejudice."

"Severus, it's fine," Hermione comforted him. Her magic encircled him in a happy embrace. "Ready for your first class of the day?"

Snape growled at her. "Impertinent chit. Watch your mouth before I'm forced to occupy it."

At her blush he dismissed the charm. "You may wish to spend this time recording your grades for the students while you have a free moment, Apprentice Granger. Your evaluation of their daily performances is essential for their grade, after all."

He motioned to her corner with the desk, and she understood that as his direction for where she was to begin the class. She quickly ducked over to her station and took out her potion's text and her attendance roll. She wasn't yet comfortable giving them grades for just showing up, but no one had done anything wrong. She proceeded with the mundane task of giving them all perfect scores for simply showing up. She was grateful for the task when Draco Malfoy walked in.

He strutted into the classroom like he owned the room, and in a way, his tattling mouth did. She felt his eyes over her immediately.

"Good morning Professor Snape," Malfoy said loudly, making her eyes involuntarily spasm to his before she stared back down at her parchment. "How is it having Granger around?"

"Apprentice Granger, Draco," Snape chastised quickly. "Is there a point to your question?"

"I was just wondering if she was doing a good job meeting you needs, Professor," Malfoy mocked.

"Shut it, ferret!" Ron yelled.

Hermione forced herself to keep her face neutral.

"Five points from Gryffindor, Mister Weasley," Snape snapped. "Unless you'd care to enlighten me to why you deemed Mister Malfoy's question inappropriate?"

Ron's face went red. "He-He was insulting Hermione!"

"Is that all?" Snape asked raging red-head. "Nothing specific, just that he insulted her? Well, Draco, what have you to say? Was your comment an insult?"

"Of course not, Professor," he said innocently. "Who would think that? I mean, besides Weasley, obviously."

"I didn't-"

Snape cut him off. "Enough, Mister Weasley."

"Hermione!" Ron begged at her, earning her looks from everyone in the class. Including Snape.

"Well, Apprentice?" Snape sneered. "Do you have some input on the matter?"

Hermione took a calming breath. "Ronald, I am perfectly capable of fighting my own battles so sit down and be quiet. I am not your peer in this room, I am Master Snape's apprentice and you would be well served to remember that."

At Snape's satisfied smirk and Ron's blustering exterior, she turned to Malfoy with a neutral expression. "Mister Malfoy, I thank you for inquiring as to my usefulness to Master Snape. It was very . . . thoughtful," Hermione nearly spat the word out. It became hard to obey Severus' directions with the blonde ferret smirking at her like he just received her for Christmas. "I'm certain you didn't mean any offense, and your handling of Mister Weasley's outburst was controlled where his was not. Take a point for your house."

At her final sentence, the class went silent, and Draco's smirk turned into a victorious smile. "Thank you, Apprentice Granger. Your time with our Head of House has obviously paid off."

Hermione gripped her quill tightly in her hand, but faked a smile. "It has been very educational, Mister Malfoy. Thank you."

Snape was clearly proud with her reaction to him. "As pleasant as this exchange is, I believe potions class is a time for potions, not lessons in decorum. Take your seats."

Malfoy slunk into his seat with Zabini to his side, his smile not waning in the slightest at his godfather's censure. She took a peek at Ron and Harry. They were both staring at her in blatant disbelief. She sent them an apologetic smile before focusing on Severus, who was now standing ominously in the front of the class.

"I could give you all useless welcomes and meaningless witticisms like your other professors, but I'm not here to pamper you," Snape began. "This is your OWLS year, and should any of you wish to continue in Potions beyond this year it will require consistent effort and study. I only accept Outstanding scores in my Sixth Year classes. Many of you have performed so dismally in previous years that to perform at that level for your OWLS would take nothing short of a miracle, but know that I expect even the most incompetent among you to achieve an Acceptable or face my displeasure."

She saw Ron grimace at Snape's declaration. "Since this is clearly a lofty goal, it is my duty to prepare you for the potions you may be required to prepare for your OWLS potions practical. Turn to page 79 of your text."

The class fumbled for a moment, except Ron and Harry.

"This is the recipe for the Draught of Peace," Snape informed them. "This is one of the more challenging potions that may appear on your OWLS examination, and as such will be used today to measure how far you still have to go in order to perform to an Outstanding level. You have the period to attempt a semi-potent brew of the potion."

Snape motioned to Hermione and she came to his side. "Apprentice Granger will be monitoring your progress with this particular potion. I will allow you to use her as a resource for today's lesson, and only today's lesson. All questions will be directed to her. Will that be an issue?"

A couple of Slytherin hands raised. "Mr. Zabini?"

"Wouldn't it be more useful to ask you, Professor?" the dark-skinned boy asked. "Considering you actually took your OWLS?"

"Your concern, while obviously shared with your peers, is ultimately unfounded," Snape corrected him coolly. "OWLS examinations are used by the Ministry and Hogwarts to evaluate your progress and to determine your academic future. Apprentice Granger's NEWTS are sufficient to aid you in a potion of this level. Miss Greengrass?"

"Apologies, sir, but is sufficient really what we want for our OWLS year?" she pointed out.

"Apprentice Granger, would you permit me to share your NEWTS scores with the class?" Snape asked her. "Or perhaps, as it seems this will be recurring an issue, I should put a copy on my wall."

She bowed her head. "Whatever you decide, Master Snape, but I'd be proud to have my results displayed so openly by you."

That may have been excessive, but Severus' eyes showed he was pleased. "Very well. Fetch them for me."

She ran to her satchel and retrieved the rolled-up scroll. With a simple charm, he copied it and enlarged it so the class could see and hung it on his wall. Everyone in the class rose to peek at the strange occurrence that was Hermione Granger's early NEWTS.

"Do you believe her score to be sufficient, Miss Greengrass?" Snape sneered at his student, motioning to her near perfect Outstanding. "I assure you, I did, however should your vast and infallible experience deem otherwise . . ."

When she didn't respond, he turned to her. "I didn't hear you, Miss Greengrass. What do you think of your peer's NEWTS score?"

"Her score seems . . . fine, Professor," Miss Greengrass replied diplomatically.

Snape smirked. "Ten points from Slytherin."

At their outrage, Snape snapped. "Silence! Ten points, five from Mister Zabini and five from Miss Greengrass for wasting the time that should be spent brewing by telling me how to conduct my own class. Does anyone else want to share their doubts as to my competence, or that of my apprentice?"

Silence from both sets of students. "Then I suggest you begin before you waste any more time."

Snape went back behind his desk to observe his class, leaving Hermione next to the table of supplies for the class. She observed neutrally as people came up to retrieve their ingredients. Harry tried to leave the syrup of hellebore, but she put a vial in his hand quickly. "You won't have time to come back up for it, Harry. Take it."

When the class saw her give Harry help, they started asking her questions on their own. She patrolled the aisles, watching for questions and errors. It was actually great to be able to help them without Professor Snape calling her out for it.

"Hermione!" Neville called out in a fit of panic as his potion turned a canary yellow.

"It's fine, Neville," Hermione said, moving to his side of the room. "You added-"

Hermione felt a spell shoot at her feet and instinctively reflected it. It wasn't until Malfoy tipped face-first over his desk and spilled moonstone into his face that she realized exactly what she'd done.

"Malfoy!" she cried out. "Don't open your eyes!"

Severus moved fast and reflexively, clearing all the moonstone from his godson's face before pouring a neutralizing mixture they'd prepared yesterday over Malfoy and into his mouth before the ingredient could start burning him.

"What happened?" Snape growled at his godson, not angrily, but in concern.

"It was Granger!" Malfoy coughed out. "She cast a tripping hex!"

"What?" Hermione cried, outraged. "You lying, vile-"

"Apprentice Granger!" Snape roared. "You will always address students with respect, is that understood?"

Hermione stepped back in shock and horror. She felt tears prickle her vision as she looked down. "Yes, Master Snape."

"Now, Apprentice, tell me exactly what happened," Severus ordered, his voice low and dangerous.

"I felt a hex and deflected it," Hermione told him. "It was reflex, I'm sorry."

"I see." He was quiet. "Apprentice Granger, regardless of whether you intended it or not, stray spells are always dangerous in a potions setting. To make certain you learn this lesson, you will be cleaning the classroom tonight without your wand."

"Yes, Master," Hermione muttered, refusing to look at him.

"That's not fair!" Harry yelled out. "He tried to hex her!"

"Five points from Gryffindor for your outburst, Mister Potter," Snape said quickly.

"Mister Malfoy," Snape continued, moving the infamous Slytherin to his feet, "I believe all the moonstone has been neutralized, but I will have my apprentice take you to the Hospital Wing to be sure. Will that be a problem?"

"Not for me." Malfoy shot a coy look at her. "Granger?"

"Not at all," Hermione said through clenched teeth. "It would be my privilege to make up for my error."

She went to the classroom door and opened it for the Slytherin prince. Malfoy pranced through the door, every bit the king he knew he was. She moved to follow him.

"Apprentice Granger?" Severus called after her. She turned to look at him, his harsh face the opposite of what he wanted to see. "We will be discussing this further after classes."

She nodded her head, and left the room with a slam of the door behind her.

Malfoy was waiting for her with a self-satisfied smirk. "Well, well, well, Granger, looks like I've gotten you to myself."

She rolled her eyes. "Malfoy, I may be your peer, but right now I am a member of the staff, and I'm escorting you to the hospital wing. Come on."

She started walking and was not surprised when he followed after a few moments.

"I'll give you that one," Malfoy sneered at her, "you somehow became an apprentice. But you saw how Snape reacted back there. I'm the important on here, Granger."

"Let me guess, you want something?" Hermione mocked. "Look, Malfoy, I'm Professor Snape's apprentice, he's already ordered me to treat you and your fellow Slytherins with respect. Anything else? All bets are off."

"I don't want you to behave, Granger." Malfoy suddenly jumped at her and pushed her off into a nearby alcove to pin her to the wall. She let him, for the moment. His silver eyes looked into hers without a hint of the violence she saw in Moody's. "In fact, quite the opposite."

His earnest expression made her fight of the impending grin. "Malfoy, I'm flattered, really, but I'm not your type."

"Damnit, Granger, not that!" Malfoy backed off with a frustrated rake through his hair. "I want you to fight the apprenticeship. I want you to make Snape release you."

That shocked Hermione right down to her toes. He had to know that Severus worked for Voldemort, which meant . . . was Malfoy concerned for her. He didn't want her to be used or killed by Death Eaters. He was looking out for her.

"Why would I do that?" Hermione demanded half-hearted, mind reeling at the implications.

"You don't want to apprentice to Snape," Malfoy tried. "He showed us your scores. You can apprentice with anyone in the country. I can introduce you to other Masters, better Masters. You don't need this."

"I want to stay at Hogwarts, Malfoy," Hermione countered. "Harry's here, Ron-"

"They'll want you to survive the year," Malfoy told her harshly. "Snape isn't a kind Master, Granger. You don't know him like I do. Please, trust me, you won't last a year with him. He'll hurt you. You need to find something else. Anything else. Study abroad, go muggle, become a freaking trophy wife – you're pretty enough – just get away from Snape."

Malfoy was trying to help her. It was too surreal. She needed to discuss this with Severus, but right now she was too disconnected by his extremes in her treatment. She needed time to think. Slowly, she nodded her head in fake acknowledgement. "I trust you on this, Malfoy. I don't know why," good embellishment, "but I do."

Malfoy visibly relaxed at her words before he offered her a smirk. "Now, you were taking me to the Hospital Wing?"