A/N: Thank you to all my reviewers, I'm glad you like this new story! I will try to update as much as I can, please bear in mind that I currently have lots of coursework and am engaged with another fic also. (I Don't Want To Be Alone) Please review!

2nd Post: I have just reposted this chapter. It has now been beta-d - thanks Tara (Nekopen). Also, if anybody wants to know when I update my stories by e-mail, please e-mail me so I can store your address. No spam, please.

Civeta, JennyRad, Ariana Althena Evergreen, CrazySwimmer27, ShagsTheDustmop, Karen Amora, RebelRikki, EvieBlack, SenshiofTerrah, Ponine5, Leah-IvyWine, Sarah- thanks so much for your reviews, they made me smile.

Rosmerta- Yes, it does seem that there is a little OOC-ness here, lol, but I guess that's the point in this story. The "opposite" thing has a little twist to it than usual. There is also some explanation here. Thanks for taking the time to review.

The-Rouge-Thorn- I'm sorry, but I do not think Tonks is married. Intrigued and puzzled by your comment, I searched book V and other sources on the net, but found nothing about this marriage. Perhaps you misread the description of the Black family tree. I briefly thought you were right, but I found I had misread it too. Her father is listed there, though. Even so, if she were married, there was a war and all. It isn't likely there were nil deaths and her husband could have been a victim. Thanks for your review; I appreciate your telling me this.

WinterSolstice- I love your reviews! They mean a lot to me. Thanks.

1. Her Return

The sun was just breaching the treetops of the Forbidden Forest as a lone figure made her way up the path leading to Hogwarts. Her long robes gently swept the ground as she walked briskly forwards, taking in the sight of the castle ahead of her.

In one tightly clenched hand, she carried a small, green suitcase, engraved with two initials.

Suddenly, her steps slowed to a halt. Her gaze drifted across the grounds, towards the trickles of light that were dancing across the lake in the distance. She was motionless for a few moments, her eyes transfixed. Then, just as swiftly as she had stopped, she began walking again. Her eyes did not come across a face peering from the tallest tower in the castle.

 A firm resolution came over her face and her mouth was set in an almost concreted line. She ascended the stone steps leading to the castle entrance. Taking a deep breath, but still keeping her focus, she placed one hand on the ornate iron doorknob.

Severus could feel it again. That brief time in which he knew there were precious days left until the rabble of raucous students filled the castle for yet another year. As usual, he spent most of his time alone, gathering his thoughts, preparing. It wasn't often he spent time away from the blissful peace and quiet of the dungeons-but today was an exception. Today, there was something he wanted to see.

The New Defence Against The Dark Arts teacher was arriving, and that had piqued his interest. There hadn't been occasion for a new DADA teacher for years, as Lupin had kept the job for the longest time yet. The fact that she was a woman was curious: the last had been Umbridge, which wasn't a pleasant experience for anybody.

His long strides ate up the distance as he traversed the dungeon's narrow corridors. He soon made his way up the stairs that led to the entrance hall, with footsteps echoing into the darkness behind him.

He crossed the silent, empty room. Pausing at the foot of stairs, he considered where he wanted to go. The staff room wasn't an option; anyone there would immediately try to start up a conversation and he wasn't in the mood to exchange idle gossip. There was only one piece of news he was interested in- the identity of the new professor. Just as he climbed the first step, he heard a telltale creak form behind him. He turned to watch as the entrance door open slowly, almost cautiously inwards.

At once, he guessed who this visitor might be. A woman, draped in long robes and carrying a miniature suitcase, entered. She looked back to watch the heavy door slam shut, and turned to face him. Severus stared at her and barely managed to suppress a gasp

It couldn't be. The thin line of a mouth, the tightly pinned back hair...it couldn't possibly be. But it was.

Hermione Granger.

If the girl -woman- before him held any shock at seeing him, she didn't show it. She actually seemed almost scornful of his stunned expression. She raised one perfectly arched eyebrow.

"Professor Snape. It has been a long time."

"Indeed," was the only word he could muster. It wasn't exactly eloquent, but it seemed to fit with his 'dark and brooding' reputation, so he went with it.

"Could you tell me where-"

"You have arrived at last!" A voice rang out from the top of the staircase. Albus Dumbledore stood smiling down at her.

"Professor Dumbledore," replied Hermione, nodding to him.

"It is lovely to see you, Miss. Granger."

"The same to you, Headmaster, but I believe my title is Professor Granger," she answered smoothly.

Hermione's comment did nothing to diminish the beaming face of the older wizard. In fact, it made him smile even more.

"Come, come," he said gesturing to her. "The others can't wait to see you."

"If you wouldn't mind, Professor, I'd rather take my belongings to my quarters and perhaps get some rest."

Dumbledore frowned slightly but then relaxed into another quick smile. "Very well. I'm sure they will be just as eager to greet you when you've had some sleep."

Severus watched the two, considering whether to leave, until Dumbledore spoke to him.

"Severus?"

"Yes?"

"Perhaps you please take Professor Granger to her quarters? It's behind the portrait of Genevieve the Generous."

Severus nodded and began up the stairs. He took a right turn and led Hermione down a long hall. As soon as the Headmaster was out of earshot, she caught up to him.

"You can leave me now. I know full well where Genevieve is, I was just humouring Dumbledore." Her eyes were blank, but purposeful. A strange feeling shot through him.

With that, she swept soundlessly ahead of him, across the thick, red carpet, her robes gathered around her. A surprised Potions Master stared dubiously at her retreating back.

Severus Snape had changed; any fool could see that. He was no longer the greasy, sallow-faced Potions Master she remembered from her years as a student. He did at least have the whole 'dark and brooding' personality thing going on. Remus had told her in his letter to expect a change in him. The war had affected him seriously, he had said, made him realise how fortunate he was. The day Voldemort had died, a large part of Severus had died too. That at the least, was a good thing.

When she arrived at the portrait of Genevieve the Generous, Hermione peered at the frame that guarded the entrance to her rooms. It was just past the stairs that led to Gryffindor Tower. She knew, without a doubt, that Dumbledore had a hand in that.

"Hello?" she called. The portrait was of a scenic landscape. In the gentle breeze, fields of green grass rippled and the leaves of weeping willows whispered quietly to one another.

Out of the distance, a figure clothed in white made its way through the fields and eventually reached Hermione in her long dress, blonde hair and parasol. The woman in the portrait looked close to Hermione's age, but was painted at least a century before she was born.

She grinned. "Hello there," she said warmly. "I take it you are the new occupant?"

"Yes," replied Hermione, a little stiffly.

"There is no current password for these rooms, you may choose one whenever you wish."

"Thank you. Could I have a look around first?"

"Of course," the portrait swung forward, allowing her entrance. "Feel free to call me Gen, by the way," she called after her. "And don't worry about any gentleman callers you have...I won't say a word." She winked.

Hermione frowned as she went inside. Wasn't that behaviour a little improper for a woman of that time? Those thoughts were quickly knocked out of her head when she saw the room that awaited her.

"Wow, Dumbledore," she whispered, forgetting her previously firm composure. It was beautiful. Her spacious living room was decorated in the Gryffindor trademark colours. Gold trimmed drapes of crimson and tapestries adorned the walls, with gold trimmings. The furniture was carved meticulously from a deep mahogany wood and gleamed as if it had just been polished. There was a comfortable looking chaise lounge and several chintz chairs scattered around. Tall bookcases lined one wall and Hermione's fingers itched to pull out a few of the beautiful volumes displayed there. She restrained her impulses, and instead, crossed to the nearest door to see more of her beautiful new home.

The bedroom was just as magnificent. A huge four-poster bed took up the majority of the room. A dressing table, a chest of drawers and a large wardrobe accented the room as did a painting on the wall above her bed, which displayed a lion pacing back and forth. Hermione stared at the animal for a minute, and then composed herself enough to set her suitcase down neatly on the rug beneath her. Taking out a few hygienic necessities, she left the bedroom and entered the bathroom, which was behind the only unopened door.

Her mouth opened in surprise. It was like the Prefects bathroom, only smaller. Marbled steps led down to the deep bath, which beckoned to her.

Giving into her urge, Hermione locked the door, stripped off her robes and turned on the nearest tap. Hot water gushed from it, and a vapour slowly rose from the rising water. After adding some scented bubbles from another tap, she slowly descended the steps. She noticed a pile of a deep red, fluffy bath towels waiting for her by the side of the bath.

Allowing a rare smile, she sank into the steaming water. Just a contented half hour and she would be ready to put up her defences again. As much as she wanted to let go, she knew from experience that it would come back to her and punish her for forgetting the past, for living freely again.

In a dark laboratory, Severus tried fervently to maintain his concentration, until he realised, it was well and truly shot. His thoughts lingered back to Hermione. He'd never have thought that Lupin would choose her for the job. The years following the deaths of Harry, Ron and many of her other friends, Hermione Granger had disappeared. No one knew where she'd gone and he was sure she'd made certain of that. The much he'd heard of her since her return was that she'd changed.

Powerful certainly; most knew not to cross her. Many spoke her name in quiet respect, knowing she'd played a large part in the Dark Lord's downfall.

He'd seen many people react to the death of Voldemort in ways that changed their entire outlooks on life. Most were happier and optimistic, but many still had sunk lower than before. Countless innocent wizards and witches had been murdered in cold blood. The message of Voldemort's reign weighed heavily on many shoulders.

Seeing the changes in Hermione Granger had left him wondering. What had she gone through in the past ten years? The cheery optimism that she'd had inside of her had been clearly snuffed out. Her appearance and manner of speaking had been drastically changed for the worst.

He recognised someone in her. Someone he knew well from years ago.

In Hermione Granger, he saw himself.