A/N: I don't know of any fics who utilise this idea, so I hope you'll enjoy it :) Please, please, please review okay? (puts on a puppy-eyes expression) Oh, and please be gentle, I have a fragile ego :P

Disclaimer: Most of the material you see here isn't mine, and never will be. But one can dream... wink (This applies to the rest of the fic too)

Prologue

Hermione Granger was not having a good day. Not at all. She figured she should have expected it when she woke herself up at four in the morning by falling out of bed.

Accidents just kept happening one after another, like a whole line of dominos toppling over. The gods must have picked her to be their victim of the day.

"Hey, Hermione." The familiar voice poked into her disgruntled reverie. "We'd better make a move if we want to make it to Potions on time."

She checked the time and realised Ron was right. Sighing bad-temperedly, she heaved her worn knapsack onto her shoulder and followed her two friends out of the Gryffindor Common Room.

Harry and Ron were wisely silent on the way to the dungeons, conditioned by nearly seven years of severe tongue-lashings when they so much as breathed loudly in front of a very cheesed-off Hermione.

Snape stalked into the classroom as usual, his robes billowing out behind in the manner that had earned him countless nicknames (none of them including the title 'Professor', of course).

"So far so good," Hermione thought to herself as she set about gathering the ingredients for the potion he had wrote out on the blackboard. Maybe, just maybe, I could get through Potions without a single mishap.

She was carefully slicing her caterpillars into the requisite inch-thick pieces when it happened.

A sudden burst of energy shot into her body, running through her veins like so much fire. She stiffened in surprise, almost dropping the knife. A second, more intense explosion caused the blade to clatter from numb fingers. She gripped the edge of the worktable, taking huge gulps of air like a drowning man. In that moment, she felt so very alive and powerful. It was exhilarating, to sense so much might with your grasp, and all you had to do was reach out and grab hold.

"Miss Granger," Snape's cold drawl cut into the heady haze she had descended into. "Explain yourself."

With considerable effort, she straightened and regained her composure, mind racing to come up with a plausible excuse. "I—I cut myself." Wincing at how utterly lame she sounded, she belatedly added, "Professor."

The teacher arched a brow. "Oh? I see no visible damage to any of your appendages whatsoever. Retrieve your knife and return to your work." Turning away, he added over his shoulder, "And Miss Granger, twenty points for disrupting the class and an additional ten for disrespect towards a teacher."

Silencing Harry and Ron with a warning glance, she glared daggers at his departing back. If looks could kill, the teacher would have left the classroom in a few hundred pieces, give or take a handful. Firmly clamping down on the urge to throw her knife at the back of his head, she returned to her caterpillars. "What have I done to deserve this?" she muttered.

Slamming the door to her room, she dropped her bag and fell into a chair, feeling thoroughly exhausted. One of the perks of being Head Girl was a personal bedroom and bathroom. No more giggly, gossipy roommates keeping her up at night, or having to listen to their complaints when she studied too late into the night.

Dinner had been thankfully uneventful, and she had beaten a hasty retreat to her room after the meals to avoid committing any more faux pas. The incident in Potions had been the last straw.

Damn that man, she thought moodily, a rare thing for her. She usually had nothing but respect for the teaching staff, including Snape. But she was looking for something to vent her ire on, and who else better than Snape?

Tap tap tap. She sighed and called in the general direction of the door, "Who's there?"

When the noise persisted, she realised her mistake; it was actually coming from the window. Muttering under her breath, she got to her feet and stumbled over to it to admit the owl. Odd, she thought. It's not Hedwig, who else could be sending me letters?

Breaking the wax seal on the envelope, she removed a small piece of parchment. Miss Granger, it read in a loopy cursive hand. Please come to my office immediately. Signed, Professor Dumbledore

She frowned, setting the note down on her desk by the windowsill. Why on earth did Dumbledore wanted to see her? She had, to the best of her memory, not committed any offences or flouted any school rules recently, unless one counts the fiasco at Potions, which was totally not her fault. Trust Snape to be such a prude and report to Dumbledore about so trivial a thing.

Pressing her lips into a thin line, she gave her hair a mandatory brushing, straightened her robes, striding out of her rooms to answer the summons.

A/N: Well, not much of a cliff-hanger, I grant you, I suck at writing them. But if you like, I can write more. Chapter 1 is already in the stage wings and waiting! So, review!