A/N: I'm havin some trouble with uploading these damn chapters properly, their turning out all clumped together and hard to read, sorry 'bout it. Just gimme a bit 'till I manage to get the hang of this. This chapter is rated pg-13 manly for language, the higher rating will come in effect later on in the story.

The Beginning to the End

Hermoine quickly stuffed her quill and books into the tattered sack she called her schoolbag. It was amazing how much weight the cloth could withstand, it had held tomes of books, it was more likely her shoulder would pop off before the bag ripped. Cursing under her breath she desperately tried to find her potions book, how could she? The first day of her 7th year potions class and she'd over slept! It was so unlike her she worried if something was wrong, but that thought was banished as fast as she flew down the stairs. Only one thing was on her mind, she had 2 minutes to make it to the dungeons, and everything was against her. She stumbled over Crookshanks who'd slunk out of her room. "Shit!" she mumbled as she grasped onto the velvet red armchair for support. Racing down the corridors she practically jumped the stairs that led to the dungeons; she was almost at the door when she heard her watch beep 10:07, start of 2nd period. Bursting through the heavy wooden door she almost slammed into the back of Snape. "What is the meaning of this Miss Granger?" Snape swirled to look down at her. Black cloak billowing like a bat from hell, the gaunt face peered at her from deep, cold black eyes, staring her down from his long nose.

She swallowed and looked down at the stone floor, "I'm sorry sir, I. I overslept. It wont happen again, really." She bit her bottom lip in nervousness. There was something haunting about him; his presence was overwhelming and mysterious. She felt so weak and vulnerable under his intense gaze, yet she forced herself to look into his eyes; they were like a shadowed pool.

Snape snapped at her,"10 points for being late and 5 for disturbing my class!" Without a second glance he turned and proceeded to the front of the class. Hermoine stood rooted to the spot, 'disturbing the class?!' Class hadn't even started! She silently fumed, damned jackass.

"Hey, Hermoine! You okay?" Ron's whisper reached her ears, snapping her out of her thoughts. "Yea, sorry, What'd I miss?" She quickly made her way towards Ron's table where she sat next to Harry. "Since when do you oversleep?" Harry turned to her, "You sure your not sick?" Hermoine rolled her eyes, just 'coz I dozed a little longer than usual doesn't mean I'm sick. You do it too!" It hurt, she wasn't sure why, but it did. When they did it no one found it unusual, but for her? Heaven forbid.

"Look, it's just that, well, its just not like you." Harry fumbled with his words; he didn't mean to offend her.

" 'Mione what he means is that your always so." Ron paused, " punctual, that's all." Harry looked at Ron, "Is that dictionary I bought you for Christmas actually paying off?"

Ron playfully punched Harry in the arm, but as his cheeks coloured a dark crimson they told exactly what Ron flipped through before going to sleep. Harry buried his head in his sleeve to keep from laughing as Hermoine just shook her head.

Hermoine leaned her arms against the desk; head resting against her palm, eyes tracing the waving grain of the smooth wood. She let Snape's voice wrap itself around her, if she was gonna give this greasy bastard any credit it was that his lectures were by far more captivating than any other teachers. His voice was like smooth velvet, enticing, heavy, and relaxing. Everything he said etched itself in her memory, every gesture that came with those words, if she wanted she could've replayed the entire class with stark clarity. Potions were her favorite subject, though she'd be damned before she admitted it. There was such precision involved with this magic, one wrong move and everything was a waste, it took so much patience, not many people had the skill to excel at this art. Although she loathed to say so she admired Snape for his skill with the ingredients, this and he was her most challenging teacher. Not like the others who praised her with every assignment. No, he was never pleased; nothing was good enough, and she strived to be the best. She would impress him, it was one the things she had promised herself she would accomplish before leaving Hogwarts.

She watched him, the fluid motion of his hands, like a dream weaved around her she saw, heard only him. The potions class seemed to end all to soon for her, quickly writing down the assignment, she walked to the door. Pausing at the doorway she looked back into the dungeons, the torches flickering along the cold stonewall cast long shadows to fall across the desks like fallen men. Shelves were lined around the room, dark bottles of ingredients lined in alphabetical order row upon row, stood like the ranks of soldiers. The tables were set into two columns, their polished surface glancing off the light cast by the torches, and at the front stood Snape's desk. It was a large table; made of mahogany the rich brown a sharp contrast to the entire room. Every sheet of paper had its place, every speck of dust knew where to lay, order reigned supreme in this cavern, like the man who now sat hunched over the afore mentioned desk.

He turned his head to look at her, cocking an eyebrow he asked, "What is it now Miss Granger? Wanting to spend some more quality time because I'm sure I could arrange for you to wash something."

"My apologies Professor, I was just." she trailed off. What? Was she gonna tell him that the dungeons looked a bit drab and he should redecorate. It was a tad medieval, and with a splash of colour his students might enjoy the class more? She almost laughed at the look she was sure she'd get. Not to mention the points that would be taken off for being a smart ass.

"Just what exactly Miss Granger? An invitation to a tea party?" His voice dripped sarcasm, the velvet turned to a whip.

" Umm, I just blanked out for a moment, sir." Her voice resounded through the empty classroom. Hermoine cast a quick glance at him, as the pale light seemed to soften the sharp angles of his features, a rose tint scarcely etched itself across his cheeks and for once in her life, she assumed that Professor Severus Snape may be a small bit attractive. Quickly turning she ran for the staircase, the cobbled hallway a grayish blur under her feet.

Severus Snape let out a tired sigh as he laid his head against his folded arms. The black material of his robes felt soft and smooth against his cheek as he closed his eyes. Gods, he didn't know if he would've made it 'till the next class if it weren't for the lunch break. The ever constant pulsing in his head was driving him insane, he was so tired of teaching these classes. None of them cared a fuck's worth about potions, they didn't understand the beauty of the art, and none of them even had the potential to try to. All except one. He had felt her enraptured gaze on him throughout the entire class, she seemed to crave for every word, but what else could he expect? It was the Granger girl. She treated all the other teachers the same, although it would have been pleasant to believe in the naïve thought that he was exceptional. He scoffed at the idea, if only. If only.

A/N: yup this is the second chappie, I once again apologize if it loads all smunched together again, if you want more you've gotta review! I can't continue if no one's reading Luv ya all, Cathy ~.^