Summary: Hermione's first few weeks at Hogwarts. Some mysteries are revealed.

A/N: Thanks for all the enthusiasm for this little tale. Hope you all continue to enjoy it.

Chapter 2

The Welcoming Feast had been fun for Hermione. She had received a warm greeting, especially from the Gryffindors, when she was announced as the new Potions Mistress. She'd waved and smiled at the children and felt happy about her decision to teach.

Now, sitting on her recliner, she mulled over the first day of classes. The seventh-years had been somewhat difficult. The Slytherins had challenged her expertise, causing the Ravenclaws to regard her skeptically.

Hermione eyed the class. Making a snap decision, she mentally threw her lesson plans out the window and walked over to the cabinet, pulling out a cauldron. She brought it over to the table in front of the class and went over to the storeroom, pulling ingredients off the shelves. Once she'd amassed what she needed, she looked up at the class.

"Who has heard of the Goblin flu?" she asked.

She pulled the knot grass to her as she looked around the room. Three hands were raised.

"Mr. Horton, what is it?" she asked as she chopped.

"The Goblin flu was an illness that affected Goblins only. It lasted for a year and was so severe it killed a lot of them."

She put the knot grass into the cauldron and placed about a cup full of water into it as well. She started the burner and began to stir.

"Correct, Mr. Horton. Today's class will be a demonstration of a potion I created several years ago to counter the Goblin flu. She noticed a couple of students' eyes widen at her statement.

As she worked, she explained how the flu had hit the Goblin community and tore through it, killing hundreds.

"It took weeks to figure out how to cure the disease. By replacing the Bicorn horn in Pepper Up Potion with a tiny shard of Erumpet horn, I was able to create a cure for the malady."

She took a tiny sliver of the horn and added it to the potion, stirring five times clockwise and five times counter-clockwise. She worked for about half an hour, continuing to explain the steps to the potion. With a final stir, she looked back to the class.

"Gather round and take a look," she called to them.

The class surrounded her cauldron as she took a wooden spoon and scooped some of the potion into it. She let it fall from her spoon back into the cauldron as the students noted its viscosity and red color.

"Without this potion, the Goblins would still be plagued with this illness, and it's possible that by now they would be extinct."

After the demonstration, she saw respect in the students' eyes and knew she had earned their trust. She smiled as she thought of Severus. His constant chiding for her to do more than quote books had led her to push herself to experiment. Without his pressure when she had been a student, she would have never been able to find a cure for the Goblins, nor make the other countless potions she'd created to help an underprivileged part of the magical world.

Pulling a stack of papers onto her lap, she began to grade the first-year's parchments. She worked for a bit but after a while noticed something tugging at the corner of her mind. She put her quill down onto the paper as she looked around. Immediately, her eyes were drawn to the painting over the fireplace. She watched the waves crash onto the shore for a few minutes and then picked up her quill and began to mark again.

A few minutes later, she felt unsettled once again. Her eyes perused the room and settled on the shore painting again. She felt drawn to it. Blowing a curl out of her face, she placed her papers beside her and rose. Approaching the painting, she felt it almost call out to her.

Her eyes narrowed and she pulled her wand out, casting several spells to see if there was anything evil weaved into the picture. She found nothing, but still, the painting pulled at her mentally. She came up to it, lulled by the waves. She felt as if she were standing right there almost feeling the water splash on her face. Shaking her head vigorously, she sighed and turned from the painting. She didn't have time to play around with oddly hypnotic paintings. She had papers to grade. Returning to her seat, she grabbed her quill and continued to mark her first-years' papers.

oooOOOooo

"Good morning," Hermione said to Neville as he settled in next to her.

"Hi, Hermione. How are you doing in those cold dungeons?" Neville asked with a smile.

She grinned at him. "Oh, it's not so bad. At least not yet. It's hardly cold outside. Besides, that's why we have warming charms."

Neville chuckled. "How has your first week been? Are the students being good?"

Hermione took a bite of banger and chewed reflectively.

"I'd have to say yes. There have been some melted cauldrons here and there, but thankfully no explosions. And I'm positive none of the accidents were on purpose."

"That's good. In my first week, someone disillusioned a cactus and put it on my chair. Thank heavens for Poppy, or I'd have not been able to sit for a month."

"Oh my!" Hermione exclaimed. "Thankfully, no one has pranked me yet. I'm trying to instill the idea that pranks and potions don't mix, so hopefully, if they do decide to do something, it will be outside the classroom."

"I'd keep my guard up if I were you anyway, Hermione."

Hermione nodded. "I've been keeping a sharp eye out, especially on the older ones."

Neville was silent for a little bit and Hermione continued eating her breakfast. As she sipped a bit of her tea, Neville asked her a question.

"So, is it weird?"

"I beg your pardon?" Hermione asked as she looked over at Neville.

"You know… living in Snape's old rooms."

"Oh." Hermione thought for a minute. "Well, they're more comfortable than I had assumed they would be."

"That's not what I meant, Hermione."

"I know," she said as she grinned. "I'm just having a go at you." She thought for a minute. "At first, I was apprehensive. I must admit, his presence seems to be very strong in those quarters." She paused again. "Maybe it's just me projecting that, I don't know." She shrugged. "Honestly, I like it. I like knowing that I'm following in his footsteps and honoring his name."

Neville nodded. "I wish I hadn't been so scared of him as a student. Granted he was bloody scary, but I also needed to grow up some to appreciate what he did for us."

"Yes, we were easily swayed to think he was evil back then. I wish he had survived. I think he would have enjoyed his life without having to be under the thumb of two masters."

"Well, Dumbledore…"

Hermione's eyes met his, and her look made him stop speaking. "Don't start about Dumbledore. He was always self-serving. He told you he loved you in one breath and used you and plotted your death in the next."

Neville coughed. "Aren't you being a little harsh?"

"No, if anything I'm being too kind."

Neville's hands came up in surrender. "Okay, okay! Dumbledore was a git. I get it."

Hermione chuckled. "Anyway, getting back to your original question, I like my quarters, and I like the memories that are there. It makes me feel closer to him."

Neville gave her a curious look. "Closer? Why would you want to feel closer to him?"

Hermione shrugged. "I would have liked to know him better, you know? He was such a mystery when we were kids. He was so closed off. I bet he wouldn't be quite that bad now. He inspired me to study Potions myself. I'm grateful to him, believe it or not."

Neville's eyes grew wide. "You really are mental, Hermione, but I think I can see what you're saying."

Hermione chuckled at him. Finishing her tea, she stood.

"I'll see you later, Neville. Have a great day."

"You too."

oooOOOooo

Hermione was grading papers again. Two weeks into the school year, and she was seriously reconsidering how much homework she was assigning. She was also regretting being such an overachieving student. Really, there wasn't a need to add an extra few inches to an assignment. Those longer essays just made her cringe. She needed to officially apologize to her professors for being such a swot as a student.

It was pretty late in the evening, and she was almost done marking, but there were still a couple of papers left to grade. She sighed as she marked one up with red. Putting her quill down, she thought about a classroom full of students like her. The small pile of papers in her lap grew to three times the mass, and she saw herself never having a moment's rest as she did nothing but grade papers. At least the information would be correct, unlike some of the responses now sitting in front of her.

She smiled to herself again and picked up her quill to continue. As she looked at the paper, she felt a tingling sensation. She knew immediately what it was. The painting… again. It had called to her every night, and she had ignored the pull of it. She planned on doing the same thing tonight.

She moved to mark the paper, but her thoughts went to her discussion with Neville the week before. She looked around the sitting room. She did enjoy living here, and the thought that Severus once lived here as well gave her comfort. It made her feel closer to the man. He was someone she would have liked to be close to had he survived.

Her gaze was drawn back to the painting. Once again, the hypnotic waves captured her imagination. She wondered at its strange pull. At least she had determined there was nothing nefarious behind it.

She had reached out to Professor Slughorn, asking him about the painting. He had replied that it had been there when he took over the rooms and he'd never noticed anything unusual about it. He said he did enjoy the crashing waves on the rocks, but he'd never really felt drawn to the painting. An inquiry with Professor Langview had just come back earlier today and resulted in much the same response.

So, why was she drawn to it?

It had obviously been Severus' painting. Her eyes looked over the crashing waves once again as she wondered why it seemed special to her. It must have had something to do with Severus Snape. She felt an affinity for him, and those feelings colored her interpretation of her living quarters. Knowing the painting was Snape's probably affected her in ways it wouldn't affect others because of her feelings towards the man.

The painting held no malice, so maybe she should just give in and touch the bloody thing.

She rose and moved closer to the painting. She felt it pull her even more. As she closed in on the picture, she felt some sort of smugness, as if it was finally getting what it wanted. Her eyes fell once again on the crashing waves. Without even really being conscious of it, she reached out and slid her hand down the side of the gilded frame.

Her mouth dropped open as the painting began to shake. She stepped back and glared at the landscape as it shook back and forth until it slid to the left. On the wall where the painting had been hanging was a small door concealing what appeared to be a hidden compartment.

She moved to the wall and touched the outline of the secret door. It magically swung outward revealing a beautifully carved wooden case that was about the size of a cigar box. Waving her wand over it, she checked it for hexes. Not finding anything nefarious, she pulled the dark box out and looked it over. The cover was emblazoned with a dragon that looked suspiciously like Dorlyth. She ran her finger over the carving and felt the scales on the dragon's body and the veins in its wings. It was a beautiful carving. The entire box was gorgeous.

Her curiosity got the better of her, and she lifted the lid. A puff of dust shot out and into her face. She began coughing as she waved her hand in front of her, trying to clear the dust.

Great, she thought. I've been poisoned!

She put the box down on the sofa as the dust filled her lungs and she began to cough. Running to get a glass of water from the bathroom, she drank it down and finally was able to stop the coughing fit that the dust had induced. She looked at herself in the mirror. Well, the good thing was she hadn't been turned into a hideous hag by the powder that had sprayed in her face. She looked just as she always had.

She removed her wand and pointed it at her face, casting some diagnostics. Her eyebrows knit together when she found nothing. Replacing her wand thoughtfully, she moved out of the bathroom and back to her sitting room. Hermione picked up the box again and lifted the lid. Within it, she saw a broken potions vial and a letter. She pulled out the letter and unfolded it, immediately recognizing the spiky handwriting of Severus Snape.

Miss Granger… Hermione

If the potion bottle is broken, then I am dead. You aren't aware of this, but Sybil Trelawney gave one more prophecy during the war. It is below.

"The maiden of knowledge returns to her beloved place of learning. She fills the void left by her soulmate. With study and determination, she will be able to bring him back to her."

Find me, my soulmate, and bring me back.

Yours,

Severus Snape

Hermione gasped and dropped the letter. Her hand came up to her mouth as she eyed the parchment lying on the ground.

Soulmate

They were soulmates.

They were soulmates? How could that be? What on earth was happening?

She collapsed back onto the couch. With a flick of her wand, the letter sailed back into her hands. She read it again… and again.

Could it possibly be true? Trelawney was a total charlatan, but she did utter the prophecy about Harry and the one saying Pettigrew would return to Voldemort's side. For being a total quack, when she did give a prophecy, it was real.

Her hand fell to her lap and her eyes went to the hole in the wall that had hidden the box. She read the letter again. It said she could bring him back, but how? Why couldn't the prophecy say how she could return a dead man to life?

Tears formed in her eyes. She had a soulmate, but he'd died years before she even knew about it. She had lost a chance at love. The fact that it was Severus Snape hadn't seemed to phase her. Her eyebrows knit together. Why wasn't she disturbed by this?

Had she subconsciously known all along they were meant to be together? She had always admired and respected him. He had been a silent mentor to her, and she had always wished he'd survived so he could live a normal life.

"We were soulmates," Hermione whispered as her hand came up to her mouth.

Some part of the bond must have been reaching out to her all this time, making her think about Severus Snape more so than normal. She only knew a little about soulmate lore. She wasn't sure, but she could imagine that bond being something that could transcend death.

"Oh, Merlin, I might be able to save him."

She put her head in her hands as tears flowed. "What do I do? What do I do?"

Her breathing was ragged, and she felt like she was about to pass out. She was never unprepared, but now she didn't even know where to start. She was going to fail, he'd stay dead, and she wouldn't know how to fix it.

Trying to control her breathing, she took in air deeply and exhaled through her mouth several times. Finally, she felt back in control of her senses. She read through the letter once more and looked at it with determination. She was exhausted and it was late. She'd do better after a night's rest. Folding the letter, she took it to her room, placed it in her side dresser drawer, got ready for bed, and despite her mind racing, was soon asleep.