June 12th, 1996

Hermione is 16

Snape is 36

"Excuse me?" Snape's voice grated against Minerva McGonagall's nerves like a cheese grater against a particularly ripe tomato.

"I believe you heard me quite clearly Severus," Minerva snapped.

"Albus? Surely you'll put an end to this…madness!" Snape glared at the Headmaster, who was now currently sucking on a lemon drop in a thoughtful manner.

The entirety of the Hogwarts School of Wizardry and Witchcraft's staff and the most prestigious members of the Order of the Phoenix were now assembled along the sides of a quite long, rectangular, cherry-wood table. Small plates with assortments of chocolates and pastries were scattered here and about, although all that remained were a few lonesome crumbs that had found their way to the corners of both the Headmaster's and the Deputy Headmistress's mouths. There were a few coolers of iced tea (Albus wanted a little something off the beaten path of hot tea) hovering ominously above Mad-Eye Moody's head. It would be a good indication of the seriousness of the present situation that the normally paranoid ex-Locked-in-a-Trunk-for-Nine-Months-was-Not-Like-a-Return-to-the-Womb-whatsoever Professor not once eyeballed the demonic coolers in the duration of the assembly.

All in all, it was a darn tense moment when the meanest and most important of them all was threatening to blow his top off all because of a little, insignificant bit of legislature.

"I am afraid," Albus looked over his half-moon spectacles as gravely as possible while having one's lips puckered from an especially sour lemon drop, "that I cannot put an end to this Severus. You will remember, of course, the conference we had in your quarters some two or three years ago regarding this situation."

"You warned me Fudge was implementing a disastrous bit of legislature if there ever were to be a Second War. You DID NOT say that I would—

"Severus! We're near the hospital wing—

"THERE ARE NO STUDENTS—

"Could everyone stop interrupting—" Remus Lupin started before being interrupted by Dumbledore.

"That will be enough!" Dumbledore pressed his lips together firmly, a very good imitation of McGonagall, who looked on approvingly.

"One does wonder, Albus," Mad-Eye Moody commented in his gravelly voice, "why it has to be Severus who needs to take the girl when a much more…amiable character could easily suffice."

For once, Dumbledore was silent for a moment.

And for once, Elli really, really wished that Lilith was here to remedy this disastrous situation. Desperate, she leaned into Dumbledore's ear and whispered:

"I have my reasons."

"I have my reasons," Dumbledore repeated slowly, "And they will make themselves clear once the war is over and when the results prove to be desirable."

Macha sniggered, "Ha! Desirable…exactly the word I'm looking for."

"Shh!" Elli hushed the other goddess.

The room was silent, except for the occasional foreboding buzz of the iced tea coolers that had finally caught Mad-Eye Moody's attention, who was now trying to experiment with various hexes to blast them into oblivion.

"Very well," Snape hissed, his voice similar to a pair of icicles slowly grinding their way into Dumbledore's heart. "Very well," he repeated, "I will do it, if only to rescue myself from the flailing wrath of the Ministry once it finds that I have not taken in the girl. But rest assured," Snape's voice changed from compliance to a harsh, threatening tone, "When this affair is over, you will get your due payment."

And with that, Snape rose from his seat abruptly and left. Albus Dumbledore stared gravely at the young man before frowning in obvious concern.

"Albus," Minerva, too, frowned, "Surely you cannot just let him go with a threat like that—

"Minerva," Dumbledore said tiredly, waving his hand dismissively at his colleague, "He is a creature of habit, and not once, not once have I ever heard him make a threat that he did not intend to carry out. Do not think these circumstances will stop him."

"Do you not find it worrisome?" Kingsley Shacklebolt inquired, his deep voice soothing and calm.

"Of course I do."

Elli was furious. How dare Macha let her shadow say such a thing like that? Although, Elli supposed she was not entirely being fair; shadowers had no say in their shadow's actions. After all, the humans were creatures of free will. They could be swayed, but not forced, and to give credit where credit was due, Macha had tried to open Snape's mind to the more optimistic perception of the whole situation before being unwillingly dragged out by her shadow's departure.

"Tonks and I have an announcement," Remus glanced briefly at the Headmaster for approval. Dumbledore nodded.

"There is a new student enrolled for the fall," Tonks explained, her bright green hair shaking as she talked, "By the name of Irene Wolfe. She is a Muggle-born witch who has resided in Denmark before moving to England in the middle of the spring term. Hogwarts has accepted her as a sixth year student."

"Interesting," Professor Flitwick chirped, "But why is it Tonks who is announcing this? Headmaster?..."

"Miss Wolfe's father is one who shares many similarities with Snape when it comes to work for the Order," Dumbledore worded carefully.

"Ah," Flitwick nodded in understanding.

"It's about time," Elli sighed, "We could certainly use that around here…peace."

August 31st, 1996

Emerald Bay; The United States of America

Severus Snape really was not one predisposed to poetic musing or thoughtful queries. Nor did he ponder over the matter of his less-than-perfect teeth or the over-productive oil glands in his scalp. However, he did not generally seek out for company so this one last contention possibly could justify the last few when considering where Snape was at the present moment.

He was, as we said before, not poetic or thoughtful. Still, he liked being alone to sort out his thoughts much more than the next stack of marmalade or human, which made him inclined to go to more energy-consuming lengths to seek out solace.

To summarize the last five sentences, Snape Apparates to Emerald Bay in Michigan, the United States to collect his wits about.

Emerald Bay would normally be quite crowded at this time of the year, but Snape took care to Apparate to a more secluded shore of the beach where there were treacherous underground rocks that tended to have an affinity for impaling whatever came its way, be it wave runner or swimmer. He also took care to Apparate in the late morning so he would arrive just when the sun would be setting in Michigan. He was not much for beautiful, scenic views, which was why Emerald Bay suited him perfectly. The water was green and choppy although it was much more desirable to swim in than some other parts of Lake Michigan, the landscaping a little rocky and steep, the sky almost always perpetually gray or misty. It was not the cheerful, sunny tourist destination that people liked to seek out.

The last few hours had been unbelievably stressful for Snape. He even decided to pass up the firewhiskey, which was his usual relaxant, out of fear for alcoholic poisoning. They had been so stressful that he had resorted to staying here for the past fifteen minutes, which was rare for him. If he did come here at all, it was usually only for two minutes to breathe in the air and calm his mind down and then Disapparate right back into whatever row he was currently having.

The reason that made his past hours so stressful was Hermione Granger. And Cornelius Fudge of course. That blasted old codger, Dumbledore did hint at this possibility a few years back, but Snape could have never imagined….

Hermione Granger. Under the legislature that Fudge had passed, all Muggle-borns or Muggles residing in the magical community during the Second War had to either leave or take up residence with a half-blood or pureblooded guardian. Miss Granger would never be deterred from completing her sixth and seventh years at Hogwarts, and with this assumption in place, Dumbledore had somehow managed to register Snape as a willing guardian for Granger.

Snape was appalled of course; at first he couldn't even find any words to speak, out of his trembling, white-hot rage, but once he calmed down a bit (after a thirty-minute rant that nearly got him locked up by Pomfrey), he smoothly told Dumbledore that he would rather—

"Be castrated?" Dumbledore suggested.

To Snape's surprise, he found that, no, he would not rather be castrated than take in Hermione Granger. Quite to the contrary, he suspected that the reason he was so upset was because he simply did not know how he was to live with a young woman with such…contempt and a brain that had a photographic memory. Oh, he suspected Granger was intelligent, but he attributed most of her accomplishments to her memory and bookworm tendencies, not to an unnaturally high IQ. He also could not fathom how inappropriate it would be to live with a female student who would be of age very, very soon. Actually, he had no idea when Granger's birthday was but he suspected that it would be sometime this year or the next.

But most of all he just didn't want to live with anybody, period.

He then surprised himself by thinking of a past experience with Granger. Period. He groaned in dismay at the horrifying memory but then—

An image of her rising chest filled his mind. Her skin, the way the smell of her hair reminded Snape of water, and her lovely jaw and neckline. He began to (not so slowly) undress her in his mind, relishing the capable, nicely-sized limbs—

Snape's eyes flew open. No. This simply could not do. If he couldn't even control his thoughts with regards to the Granger girl, then he could not be expected to control himself from being either overly malignant or salacious without going bonkers. Fleetingly, he thought of the girl's reaction when she received notice of her new Hogwart's living arrangements.

That put a big smirk on his face.

August 31st, 1996

Diagon Alley; London

How can this be?

Hermione Granger fingered the creamy parchment, signed and sealed by Albus Dumbledore himself, with a worrisome lack of gentility.

Have they all gone off their rockers? It's not logical. I could just stay at Hogwarts—the girls' dormitories. Although that's not exactly under the supervision of a half-blooded or pure-blooded guardian—Yes it is! Dumbledore! But then again, the Ministry surely won't recognize Dumbledore as the guardian of all of Hogwarts' students…only the parents are guardians. It would have to be a sort of individual foster parent—but Professor Snape!

After a few more moments of this wild pondering, Hermione reached the same conclusion as five minutes before.

They've all gone off their rockers.

Hermione was presently lying on top of a blanket spread over an abandoned Muggle dumpster. She had found it in her second year in an alley within Diagon Alley. An alley within an alley. Although she had no idea what a Muggle dumpster was doing in a completely wizarding and witching vicinity, she had taken a liking to resting on top of it, watching the blue sky and fluffy, white clouds pass her by. The funky smell was just something she would have to deal with.

All she could think of was the way Snape had deliberately remained on top of her for fifteen seconds longer than he should have in her fourth year. She didn't know if it was something to worry about where Snape was concerned, but where she was concerned, she was well…concerned. Hermione knew all too well by now that she was most certainly attracted to older males. It was genetically programmed into all females as her mother assured her, but it seemed to be more so in Hermione than the other girls. Her father had posed an interesting theory on this fact though:

Perhaps since the wizarding community had elongated life-spans, the females did not have to be as concerned with finding a mate that could provide for them. Such mates in the Muggle world were usually older, with more time to secure their place in provisions, so it became a helpful trait for female Muggles to have a preference for older Muggles since they would then be provided for. Likewise, older Muggle males preferred younger, female Muggles because of their advanced reproductive abilities.

However, her father had said, in the wizarding community it could be quite different. Since wizards and witches had a longer lifespan and magic on their side, such material concerns would not hinder their survival as drastically as it would for Muggles. They were all a softer bunch, the females remaining in their prime well into their forties and possibly fifties, and the males dilly-dallying along when it came to climbing the career ladder. It wasn't that the wizards didn't care; they simply had the time. So such a trait would not be evolutionarily advantageous.

Still, Hermione was Muggle-born, which meant she got the full dose of the whole being-attracted-to-older-males complex that she had inherited from her mother, who was a young, spree, twenty-two year-old when Hermione was born. Her father had been a successful dentist who was ten years older than her mother. She had to give her mother credit though; her mother had managed to go to school, received a degree in dentistry, and opened a shared practice with her husband while raising Hermione. Although Hermione hadn't really been raised….

The six years she had now been assimilated in the wizarding world had all too painfully showed her that men who would have immediately been disregarded if she were a Muggle growing up in a Muggle society were very well prospective mates in the wizarding society. Provided Hermione reached of age first.

First of all, Hermione was now blessed with an extended lifespan. Age gaps dramatically decreased once a girl hit seventeen years.

By the time Hermione was in her second year, she had realized that school-girl crushes were not stampeded and dispelled upon like an elephant squashing a termite mound as they were in the Muggle world. They were actually encouraged, but on a strictly no-touch basis. 'Good for the emotional development,' they said, 'it instills them with a sense of what they want at a young age instead of spending all of their twenties and thirties searching for the "right one"'. She had realized this, of course, because of Lockhart although he had been horrid.

In her first year, she had discovered that although wizards were blessed with longer lifespans, it made no difference if they didn't have a strong character, an exceeding amount of passion, spite, or energy, and a certain amount of willingness to survive and live life. Combined, these characters would not only fight off aging to some extent, it would guarantee a longer lifespan similar to Albus Dumbledore and Marchbanks. It was because she had done so much reading on alchemy and the Philosopher's stone.

She had witnessed all of those traits in none other than Severus Snape by the end of her third year. The scene he had put on in both the Shrieking Shack and the school was spectacular. He had a definite, dark past history and a grudge that had forged him into a survivor.

She felt her first real attraction to Snape in her fourth year, and in her fifth year, she was stunned by the last and final realization she would have concerning romantic affairs:

Snape was a high prospect. He had a secured position, all the enduring and personality traits, the finance, and he was attractive to Hermione.

It was his imperfections that did it for her. She hated straighty, big, white, shiny teeth, something her parents had direct involvement in, and she hated a too-perfect appearance. Lockhart had made her realize that it was better if a man showed how evil he could be on the outside rather than masking it by unnatural perfection.

Hermione sat up from the Dumpster. She was so, so confused….

What was she thinking? She hated him from the very bottom of her heart…he was horrible, spiteful, malicious, and he had made her Potions' classes hell since she was the tender age of eleven. Well, twelve really, but every time she thought of him, which wasn't often, a memory stung her like it was still fresh.

She examined her school list: Advanced Transfiguration, various strange Potion appliances, Standard Book of Spells Grade Six…oh what a year it was going to be.

And there was her Apparation testing a week after her seventeenth birthday. She was dreadfully nervous about it, but when she thought of the wonderful places she could Apparate to during the summer before her seventh year, she smiled.

She heard Emerald Bay was quite nice at this time of the year….