A/N: Not mine…pouts. Harry Potter characters belong to J.K Rowling.

Chapter 2: Dreams Are What We Make Them

"What she needs is a good shag," Ron commented as they entered the common room. "Ten points from Gryffindor, and don't let me catch you breathing so loudly again, Mr. Potter!" Ron said in an unusually high-pitched voice, waving his finger in Harry's face.

"Ron! Just because you were reprimanded doesn't give you a reason to insult Professor Granger," Severus scolded. "Plus, you don't know all the facts, and I doubt anyone ever will."

"What facts? What could Granger possibly say that could be of any interest to anyone?" Ron asked sharply.

Severus lowered his voice to a whisper, "Ron, you know Professor Granger's role in the war. If it wasn't for her, we wouldn't be able to protect anyone, and I happen to think that if she wasn't so unpleasant, students would actually want to learn from her."

"Well, I'm no seer, but I don't see that happening anytime soon," Harry joked.

"Hey, Harry, want to have a go at some wizard's chess before we go off to bed?" Ron asked.

"Sure, Ron. Want to watch, Severus?"

"No, I'm going to prepare for tomorrow's lessons."

"Suite yourself," Ron said as he set up the board.

Severus entered the dorm room having already gone through this year's curriculum, so he began to work on his independent project. He knew that he couldn't tell Ron or Harry about the project, because they would just criticize him on his decisions. He knew from the first time he picked up a knife that he was meant to work with potions. Yes, he was great at Transfigurations, and at Arithmacy, but he didn't get that feeling of excitement that he received from adding ingredient to a boiling cauldron. Who knows, any minute, any day, somebody might create a potion unknown to the wizarding world that could solve any problem. That's one of the fascinations about the art of potion making – the unexpected surprises. Ok, so it might involve having to actually speak to Professor Granger, but the outcome would be most rewarding.

The next morning found Hermione slumped into a chair in front of a cold fireplace with a partially empty bottle of Ogden's slipping from her hand – and she was suffering from the hangover from hell. She got up and stumbled toward her potion cabinet.

"Damn it!" she yelled as her shin connected with the sharp corner of her coffee table. She reached the cabinet and shuffled through its contents until her fingers grasped a small, familiar bottle. Its yellow contents shimmered as they were brought into the dim light of the room. Downing it quickly, the vile liquid slid slowly down her throat, then hitting the pit of her stomach like thunder.

Hermione took a long shower, charmed her hair into its usual tight knot then, after donning her teaching robes, she made her way to the Great Hall. Hormone took her seat furthest from the other professors. She preferred her solitude, especially in the mornings, and she had no need for small talk or for the company of others. Hermione took long gulps of coffee, ignoring the burn that it sent down her throat. Finishing her coffee, she swept out of the Great Hall back to her dungeons without having to say a word to any of the other professors.

Her first class was to be the first year Hufflepuffs and Ravenclaws. She always enjoyed the first class of the year. The chance to strike fear into the hearts of students was irresistible. What better way to prepare them for the real terror of the wizarding world.

Hermione entered the potion classroom, slamming the door behind her.

"Silence!" she commanded. "You are in this class for one reason, and that is to learn about the subtle science and exact art of potion making. You are here to waist my time teaching you something that you will inevitably forget when you race out of those doors and scurry about to chatter with other pathetic excuses for students," Hermione hissed.

"You will do as exactly as I tell you, otherwise, you risk your own meaningless lives and the ones around you with your own stupidity. There will be no foolish wand waving in MY CLASS!" she growled. "You may never use this ancient art, but I will be damned if you don't learn something of value while you're imprisoned here for the next several months!"

The silence of the room and the looks on the students' faces were enough to make Hermione almost burst out laughing at her instant triumph. Suppressing a smirk as she mentally congratulated herself, Hermione raced up to her desk, threw open the book she was carrying under her arm as she slammed it on the desktop and yelled, "Turn to page 249 NOW!" This was going to be a good day after all.

"Hey, Sev'rus, what classes do you have today?" Ron asked, stuffing a piece of toast in his mouth.

"Transfigurations, Ancient Ruins and then Double Potions. What about you?" He asked, never taking his eyes away from his book.

" Care of Magical Creatures, Divinations and Double Defense Against the Dark Arts."

"That's nice Ron," Severus said, still reading.

"Yur nut evun lustuin," Ron said, bits of toast flying out his mouth.

"Uh huh."

Ron swallowed the toast and took a big gulp of pumpkin juice, some escaped and dribbled down his chin. "What are you readin' anyway?" Ron asked snatching the book out of Severus hands. "Moste Potente Potions? What are you doing with this?"

"Studying," Severus said, snatching back the book.

"Will you even go over this stuff? This is more advanced than our 7th year curriculum goes!" Harry said, looking over Severus' shoulder at what the book contained.

"I'm working on an independent project," Severus stated while cramming the book into his already full satchel.

"On potions! Can you believe this Harry? Potions of all things! Why do you want to work on something like Potions? Why not spend your time on something interesting like… Quidditch?" Ron asked.

Severus was angry now as he forced his bag shut then turned and glared at Ron.

"Because I happen to find potions very fascinating and mentally stimulating," he said matter-of-factly, slinging his bag over his shoulder. "Now, if you will excuse me, I have to go to the library."

"Oh yeah, you do that!" Ron yelled after him.

"Mr. Weasley," came a harsh voice from behind. Ron turned around only to come face to face with Professor Ganger. "Do you think you could possibly behave a little less like yourself?"

"I-I don't know what you mean Professor," Ron stuttered.

"I mean, can you ever be silent?" she hissed.

Ron looked as though he were about to say something, then his mouth just hung open.

Hermione turned on her heel then strode out of the Great Hall.

Severus was fuming by the time he reached the library.

"How dare they insult my intelligence! Quidditch – HA!"

"SHHH! This is a library!" Madame Pince whispered harshly.

He quickly handed his pass for the restricted section that Professor McGonagall had given him at the beginning of the semester to the irate librarian.

Severus lowered his voice. "I'll give him Quidditch, right up the arse," he hissed then, opening the gate of the restricted section, he occupied his thoughts with his work.

Minutes passed and Severus was absorbed in his reading that he didn't hear the approach of another.

Hermione searched long and hard for a book that possessed the answer to her questions, but nothing in her extensive library held the answers. She would have to pay a visit to Madame Pince.

She strode through the halls with determination taking twenty points from a Ravenclaw that possessed the gall to laugh in the halls, she entered the library and found the head librarian in the Astronomy section organizing the books in alphabetical order.

"Madame Pince, I am in need of your services," she said smoothly.

"I'm sorry, Professor, but I am quite busy at the time. I might be able to give you the author of the title of the book that you are in search of."

Hermione gave her in detail the information she needed, and, in return, Pince gave her a good starting point.

"Halál vmitõl korty, by Vlad Ortsburg III," she mentally chanted on her way to the restricted section.

The site before her made her stop in her tracks. Severus Snape was sitting in the far corner of the restricted section surrounded by a number of potion books. She could barely make out the boy as his head was bent furiously taking notes, but his greasy hair and hooked nose were unmistakable.

Hermione crept up slowly to where the boy sat and lowered her face right down to the boy's ear.

"Mr. Snape!" she barked and the boy shot straight up, piles of books were knocked over, and an inkpot fell to the floor – ink splattering on Hermione's boot.

"Professor Granger! I'm so sorry," he said taking his cloak and whipping the ink from her boot.

"Mr. Snape, have you forgotten what you are?" Pulling out her wand she pointed it at the ink "Evanesco." The ink on her boot and floor disappeared. "I believe you are a wizard, are you not?" Severus nodded his head. "Then act like one. Now, I believe you are supposed to be in a class at this time, am I not correct?"

"I ha- Professor McGonagall has given me permission to be here," he said, searching his pockets for the note the professor had signed the day before.

"Cease this fumbling," she hissed. "Seeing that you can not present evidence, you will serve detention with me tonight and tomorrow night at seven." Hermione then turned down an aisle in search of her book, but swung her head back around to say, "Oh, and ten points from Gryffindor."

'Halál vmitõl korty' I believe means 'death by potions' in Hungarian … I couldn't think of any names for a book.

Next Chapter will be detention with Granger…