Disclaimer: I own nothing.

Chapter Two

Hermione spent most of the next day in a slight panic.

Two hours before the students were due to arrive, she left the library and went back to her quarters to get ready for the Welcoming Feast. On her dresser was a large bouquet of Peruvian lilies from her parents, which had been delivered by owl earlier that day. The accompanying 'Kiss the teacher' Muggle greeting card had both made her laugh and a bit teary-eyed when she opened it.

Standing in front of her wardrobe, she ran a hand down the length of her new robes. With Ginny's help during one stressful afternoon in Diagon Alley, they'd settled on a style that was professional but not stuffy. She wore Muggle clothing underneath; the tradition of not wearing anything underneath your robes wasn't something she particularly cared for. The actual robes were navy with a high neck when worn closed, and tiny buttons on the sleeves. It wasn't until she came out of the changing room and Ginny had snorted that she realised it was similar to the robes Snape wore. Face flushing, she'd found this didn't bother her as much as it probably should.

Her footsteps echoed as she headed towards the Great Hall, wand tucked securely in her sleeve. The antechamber by the Great Hall was empty, save for one man. Snape looked every part the strict Potions Master in his full teaching robes, arms folded over his chest and eyebrow arched.

"Cutting it a bit close, Granger?"

Refusing to let herself be intimidated, Hermione shrugged. "Not at all. You haven't gone inside either."

Snape scoffed. "As Deputy Head, it's my duty to make sure all staff are on time for the Welcoming Feast." He cast a hand to the door, which opened.

"Show off," Hermione muttered.

Reaching her seat at the High Table, she noticed there were still a few seats empty. She folded her hands in her lap and huffed. She wasn't even the last one there, why was Snape acting as if they were all waiting for her? Professors Swannage (Defence Against the Dark Arts) and Moore (Muggle Studies) were the last ones to arrive and were given a stern look by the Headmistress. Minutes later, the doors to the Great Hall opened, and the students entered. As they divided into their houses, Hermione could feel the stares. She was used to it, but it never got any easier. Looking out over the student body, some students were pointing at her before turning to their friends.

"You're big news," Vector, seated on her left side, said cheerfully. "The students will be pleased you're back, I'm certain."

Hermione smiled slightly and fiddled with her sleeve. "I hope so."

The doors opened again, and Snape came striding through followed by a hoard of wide-eyed first-years. At first glance, Hermione counted at least thirty. Attendance had been on a steady rise the past few years, though some parents had been wary of sending their children to Hogwarts straight after the war.

Snape stopped in front of the Sorting Hat, and his cloak billowed as he turned to face the new students. Hermione bit her lip to stop herself from smiling. The Great Hall was so quiet you could hear a pin drop. The Sorting started, and she clapped enthusiastically for each new student. Around the 'M's, her stomach rumbled loudly. Vector covered a laugh with a cough, and Hermione's face flushed. Come to think of it, she hadn't eaten any lunch.

Once the last student had been sorted (Willows, Lisa to Hufflepuff), McGonagall stood.

"Let the Feast being!"

The cheer that went up from the students made Hermione nostalgic. After sitting on a train all day, the Welcoming Feast had always been a blessing. Snape sat down to her right, the sleeve of his robe swishing against hers.

"I hope you didn't frighten the first-years too much," she said casually as she put a piece of Shepherd's Pie on her plate. "If the parents write to complain, I bet the Headmistress will make you write the apology notes."

Snape scoffed. "Give me some credit." He drank deep from his goblet. "I do my bullying in the classroom, thank you very much."

The snorting laugh came from nowhere, and Hermione covered her mouth with her hand. Snape looked amused as she tried to pull herself back under control.

"Are you quite done?"

Putting a hand on her flushed cheek, Hermione smiled. "You're funny, Severus. Has anyone ever told you that?"

His eyebrow arched so much it almost disappeared into his hairline. Two months ago, the look on his face would have scared her into silence. Now, she fancied she knew him enough to know when he was truly angry and not just miffed. It was the reason she grinned cheekily before turning back to her food. Why she'd used his first name, she wasn't sure. Anything to distract from her own nerves, she supposed.

Once pudding had been cleared away, McGonagall stood and addressed the Hall. Hermione hung onto every word – anything to get her knees to stop shaking. As McGonagall informed the students about Quidditch tryouts, Hermione felt a warmth press against her thigh. She froze.

"Breathe," Snape said quietly, moving his leg away from hers.

She took two deep breaths and regained focus just as McGonagall called her name.

"Please give a warm welcome to Professor Hermione Granger, who is taking over Charms due to Professor Flitwick's retirement."

Hermione's face flushed as applause and cheers rung in the air, and her cheeks hurt from smiling.

"Congratulations, Granger," Snape said. "The hard part is over, now all you have to do is teach the dunderheads."

–

Hermione's first class as a Professor was the sixth-year NEWT class. From her stance leaning against the desk, she watched the students find their seats and felt strangely nostalgic. The last time she'd seen these students, they had been fresh-faced second-years. Now they were almost adults. When the last student had found their seat, she pointed her wand at the door and closed it wordlessly before standing.

"Welcome to your first NEWT class in Charms. I am Professor Granger, and I hope at least some of you remember me from when I did my apprenticeship with Professor Flitwick." Seeing that the students at least seemed to be paying attention, she continued. "Now, Professor Flitwick is an amazing Charms Master and I will do my very best to not let him or you down. If there are any uncertainties, feel free to let me know. Are there any questions so far?" She was met with scattered 'no's' and the shaking of heads. "Right then, let's begin the class. Who can tell me the advantages of non-verbal spells?"

There were several raised hands, and Hermione smiled. This seemed to be off to a good start.

Unfortunately, her luck ran out sooner than she anticipated. Her last class of the day was fourth-year Gryffindor and Ravenclaw, and it was clear from the start she did not have their respect.

"Settle down, please!" She called out. For all the effect it had, she might as well have been talking to herself.

Huffing, she cast a non-verbal Silencio. Twenty pairs of eyes turned in her direction as the students found themselves mute. "That's better!" she said cheerfully as she lifted the spell. The silence that followed was a slightly stunned one. "While I am a big fan of discussion in the classroom, I expect you to be silent and pay attention whilst I am speaking."

A girl with dark hair and a Prefect's badge raised her hand. Hermione glanced at the attendance sheet. "Yes, Miss Walker, do you have a question?"

"I just wanted to take the opportunity, on the behalf of all Gryffindors, to say how pleased we are to have you as our teacher. I know you are a role-model to many of the younger students and it's a pleasure to be given the opportunity to learn from you."

Hermione would have been touched by the gesture, had she not shared classes with Draco Malfoy for six years and recognised when someone was brown-nosing. The smirks on the other Gryffindor students faces was also an indicator.

"Thank you, Miss Walker. While I don't think I'm a good person to have as a role model, the sentiment is appreciated. However," she channelled her best McGonagall voice, "I want to make it clear that just because I was a Gryffindor, it does not mean there will be any sort of preferential treatment. I care about your performance in my classroom, not your house affiliation."

She half-smiled as the Gryffindors seemed to deflate, and the Ravenclaws perked up. Now she had their attention.

"Right, now that we've handled that I think it's time to start the class. Today we'll be focusing on Summoning Charms. Please open your textbooks on page 14, please."

Turning to the blackboard, Hermione let out a shaky breath.

–

Practically collapsing on her sofa after dinner, Hermione closed her eyes. She was exhausted. Crookshanks meowed softly, then jumped up to perch on her chest. He sniffed her chin and gave it a lick before settling down.

Hermione smiled. "Hello, old man." She scratched behind his ear, and his purring vibrated on her chest. "What have you been up to today?"

He chirped and butted his head against her hand.

Lifting her head to look at him, she laughed. "Really? I'm not sure what Mrs Norris thinks about that. You're going to have to learn how to share."

Crooks' ears folded back and he jumped down to the floor, eyes fixed on the door. The knock that followed didn't surprise her. When she opened the door, however, she was surprised.

"Good evening, Severus." His eyebrow twitched at the use of his first name, which greatly amused her. "What brings you here?"

"I wanted to make sure you'd survived your first day." He smirked. "It would be bad press if the Brains of the Golden Trio fell victim to the little dunderheads on the first day of term."

Hermione laughed. "Yes, all that paperwork would not be fun. Would you care for some tea?"

"I have rounds."

"Oh."

Crookshanks stepped out from between her legs, bushy tail swishing. He walked up to Snape and sniffed his leg. He then looked up at Hermione and meowed, as if to say 'not impressed', before turning his butt to Snape and wandering down the corridor.

"That was rude!" She called after him and got a tail swish in response.

Snape looked amused when she turned back to him.

"He's a half-Kneazle," she explained, "so he's very clever. He figured out Peter Pettigrew was an Animagus months before the rest of us did." He was also a good judge of which boys were unworthy of her time, but she wasn't about to divulge that information to a former teacher.

"Did he now?"

The pointed look he gave her made her blush. Remembering how she, how they all, had treated Snape was mortifying. She hoped he'd never find out about the other things she was responsible for, like setting him on fire and stealing from his private stores.

Snape snorted. "See you tomorrow, Granger."

It was strange, she mused as she sipped her tea a while later. Unlikely as it may seem, Snape was the person she felt closest to of her new colleagues. Who would have thunk it?

–

The weeks passed quickly; between classes, patrols and grading homework Hermione was surprised when she realised her 25th birthday was only a few days away. She had plans to meet up with Harry and Ron at the Three Broomsticks, and she was looking forward to spend some time with her friends.

On Sunday, she spent hours getting ready. Using half a bottle of Marlene's Magical Curl Crème, she managed to do an updo that hopefully looked elegant and not like she'd been dragged backwards through a hedge. Her eyeliner was only slightly uneven, but she knew better than to try applying it with magic. Still in her dressing gown, she took out the new lingerie she'd bought as a present to herself. Not usually one for fancy undergarments, she'd splurged a bit for the occasion. The bra and matching knickers were black lace with a delicate floral pattern making up the fabric.

Her favourite purchase though was the dress. It had short, flowy sleeves, a neckline that was lower than what she was usually comfortable with, and the maroon colour made her feel sexy and very grown-up. Fastening her necklace and spritzing perfume on her neck, she did a final mirror check. Biting her lip, she smiled. She looked good, and more importantly, she felt good. Her black pumps were transfigured into flats for the walk, and she donned her cloak before leaving her chambers.

It was a beautiful evening, with the slight chill of approaching autumn in the air. The sun was just setting, casting Hogwarts and the grounds in a golden glow that made her stop for a second and just look at the beauty of it. The walk down to Hogsmeade, which was usually a rather long one, felt much shorter.

The Three Broomsticks was quiet, only a handful of patrons were scattered around the room.

"Evening, Hermione," Rosmerta said, putting down the glasses she'd been cleaning.

Hermione smiled and removed her cloak. "Good evening, Rosmerta. Have the others arrived yet?"

"No, you're the first one. Would you like something to drink while you wait?"

"A glass of white wine, please."

Taking a seat, Hermione adjusted her dress and checked the time. She was ten minutes early, which surprised no one and least of all her.

Rosmerta came over with her wine and placed it on the table with a smile. "It's on the house."

Sipping her wine, Hermione waited.

Watching a few patrons come and go, she sighed. Where were they? Casting a Tempus, she frowned. They were supposed to be there 45 minutes ago. Neither of the boys was known for the punctuality, but they weren't usually that late. Now she was getting worried.

Just as she was about to go ask Rosmerta to use the Floo, there was a whoosh of green from the fireplace and Harry's head poked through.

"Hermione, are you there?"

Rushing to the fireplace, Hermione scanned his face for any sign of distress. "I'm here, Harry. What's wrong? Where are you?"

Harry looked guilty and ran a hand through his hair. "I'm in Surrey – it's a bad situation, Hermione. I'm sorry."

Hermione's stomach sank, and she ignored the bitter stab of disappointment. "Oh, that's fine. Is Ron there with you"

"Yeah, we were both called in." Someone in the background wherever Harry was shouted something at him, and he glanced over his shoulder before turning back to her. "I'm sorry, I've got to go. We'll meet up soon, okay? I'll owl you! Happy birthday, Hermione."

Harry disappeared and the Floo went dark, and her "be safe!" got lost in the ether. Staring into the empty fireplace, Hermione's vision blurred. Blinking furiously she pushed back to stand and wiped away the dirt from her dress.

"Hermione? Are you all right?" Rosmerta looked worried, her brow creased and lips downturned.

Clearing her throat, Hermione forced a smile. "Yes, I'm fine. Some change of plans, that's all." Going back to her table and the half-empty wine glass, she put on her cloak. "Thank you for the wine. Have a good night."

Hermione started the long trek back to Hogwarts. It was fully dark now, and the wind was cold. She shivered. Not bothering to cast a Lumos, she stumbled more than once on the unlit path up to the Hogwarts gates. The lights from within the castle, which usually felt warm and inviting held no appeal to her. Something wet hit her hand, and it took her a few seconds to realise she was crying. Stubbornly wiping her eyes, she took a few deep breaths. This wasn't exactly how she envisioned spending her 25th birthday. Her stomach knotted itself. She should have taken her parents offer to go to London, but it was too late for that now.

She took out her wand when she reached the main doors, feeling the wards recognise her and allowing her to enter. The Entrance Hall was mercifully empty, and she took a deep breath to centre herself for the walk back to her quarters.

"Granger?"

Hermione's head snapped to the doors to the Dungeons. Snape stood there, looking confused.

"Oh. Hello."

He crossed the Hall in a few long steps. "What the devil are you doing out at this hour?"

She wanted to argue, to remind him she was no longer a student and therefore allowed to be out at whatever hour pleased her, but she didn't have it in her. "I was going to have dinner with Harry and Ron, it's my birthday, you see. But they couldn't make it. So now I'm going to curl up in my pyjamas with some wine and maybe a slice of cake."

Snape blinked, seemingly shocked by her outburst. "Come with me." He turned towards the stairs to the first floor, and Hermione looked after him in confusion. Sensing she wasn't following, he stopped and looked back. "Now, Granger," he barked.

The demanding tone triggered a lifelong habit, and she scurried after him. He led her up the stairs and down the east corridor. "Where are we going?"

He stopped in front of a nondescript door. "My quarters. Hold out your wand."

Hermione did as told, and watched as he altered his wards to admit her. "I thought your quarters were in the dungeons?"

Snape scoffed and opened the door, ushering her inside. "The Head of Slytherin has not always been the Potions teacher, and thus proximity to the dungeons is not necessary. It's sufficient that my office is close to the Slytherin dormitories. Sit." He lit a fire and stalked over to a glass cabinet.

Sitting on the forest green sofa, Hermione removed her cloak. Quickly transfiguring a galleon in her pocket into a mirror, she checked the status of her makeup. Her eyes were a bit glassy, but her eyeliner looked as uneven as when she applied it and there was no smudges on her cheeks. She returned the galleon to its original form and put it away.

Snape joined her by the fire, occupying the armchair across from her. Two wine glasses were placed on the table between them. Hermione reached for a glass, and as she sat back, Snape spoke.

"I can't say I'm surprised Potter and Weasley managed to muck up. It seems to be their speciality, no?"

"It's not like they forgot about it, there was an emergency at the Auror office. It's fine, I'll see them another time." She tilted her head. "When's your birthday?"

"None of your business, that's when."

"Spoilsport."

Shifting, Hermione fingered the pendant around her neck. Snape's gaze drifted down before snapping back to her face.

His black eyes seemed to draw her in, and how had she never noticed before how long his lashes were? The skin underneath his eyes was pale, with a slight purple hue that was evidence he was not getting enough sleep. Him clearing his throat made her look away, her cheeks flushing slightly.

"I'm not well versed in birthday celebrations, but I do believe some sort of cake is customary. Tolly!"

The crack made Hermione startle, and then there was a tiny House-elf standing in the sitting room.

"Master Snape called for Tolly?"

"May we have some cake, please?"

Tolly bowed and then disappeared with another crack. A few seconds later two plates with generous slices of carrot cake appeared on the coffee table.

There was a lit candle stuck in the frosting of one of the pieces, and Hermione chuckled.

"The House-elves really do know everything."

Snape smirked (or was it a smile?). "I'm sorry your evening didn't end up as you envisioned it."

Hermione smiled shyly. "This wasn't a bad substitute. I'm with a friend, I have wine, and there's even cake. What more could a girl want for?"

Chuckling, Snape raised his glass. "Happy birthday, Granger."

Grinning, Hermione blew out the candle.

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