Disclaimer: I don't own Harry Potter or any related characters, etc.

"Minerva, the sun is beeping. Why is the sun beeping?"

"Because, Severus, it was Dumbledore's idea of an alarm clock and I have yet to figure out how to turn it off."

Snape walked over to the wall, amazed that, in three years, McGonagall had not figured out how to turn of an alarm clock. He hit it the painted sun with the flat of his palm, hard. "Ow, bugger that hurt!"

"On the bright side, you made the sun stop beeping, Severus," McGonagall replied with a smug smile and turned back to the letter she was writing.

"Next time at least thank me for my efforts," he said sarcastically. "I'll be pestering Poppy if you need me."

"Just don't forget your first year class, Severus!" she called after him.

"Yes, thank you, Minerva. It's not like I don't try to teach those dunderheads every day."

: P

"For the final time, Mr. Spence, you do not add powdered asphodel to this potion. If you attempt to do so one more time, you will be in detention for no less than a month . . . with Filch!" Snape bellowed at the small, pale undersized Gryffindor. Young Mr. Spence paled even more, if that was even physically possible, and promptly sat in his seat trying not to cry. The Ravenclaw girl at his table tried to console him only to gain Snape's ire as well.

"Miss Blanchard!"

"Ye-yes, Sir," she replied and went back to her own work.

Snape sat back in his seat as if observing, but he was really quite deep in though. He meant it when he said he enjoyed teaching potions, but eh naivety and inexperience of the students coming through the school was astounding to him. So far, none of the first years showed any kind of competence when it came to potions. Of course, he was comparing them to one former bushy-haired student who excelled from the word "go." No, indeed none of them could compare to Hermione Granger's capabilities at this juncture.

"Professor Snape?"

It was Blanchard. "Yes, what is it?" he barked.

"The, um, the class period has finished, Sir."

He wondered briefly about the fact he missed that. "Potion samples labeled and on my desk immediately! Clean your tables and then you are dismissed." It came out harsh, just like everything else he was saying lately. He scowled at the first years while they scurried to turn in potions and clean their tables. Once they all left, Snape retired to his office for several moments. He needed a stiff drink even though he usually frowned upon the idea of alcohol during the day. However, he felt he not only needed it but deserved it at the moment.

The rest of the day passed in an uneventful blur. Snape managed some grading during his lunch break and before supper. He wandered to the great hall to eat as he always did, went through the routine of scowling and staring down anyone who dared to take him on, said the required words to his fellow staff members and pondered in silence over his meal.

"Severus, you really shouldn't wait around for something to happen. It could be years before . . ."

"Minerva, thank you for reminding me. And what makes you say I'm just sitting around?"

McGonagall gave him one of those looks that was reminiscent of Dumbledore. It seemed to say 'if you have to ask, then you know it's true so don't waste my time arguing.' Snape rolled his eyes and looked away.

By the time supper was finished, Snape had half the staff telling him to 'cheer up' and not worry. 'Miss Granger would return soon enough.' He finally had enough and left the table, feeling angry. He had thus far put off grading the first year projects because doing so usually put him in a bad mood. Since he was currently in a bad mood, he figured it was a good time to finally grade the projects. Unfortunately, the unintended affect of his mood growing fouler with each individual assignment occurred and he finally had to give up before there was more red on the paper than black.

Snape returned to his quarters and poured himself a healthy portion of Ogden's. He settled himself in front of the fire and began reading a book. Several minutes later, Snape slammed the book down next to him, drained the Ogden's and poured himself some more. There was only one thing on his mind, one person to be exact.

He was unsure of the exact moment she took over his thoughts, but with her gone for the moment, every second his mind was free to wander, she filled it. Hermione Granger would one day be his. He just hoped it was before he decided to grow a Dumbledorish beard and was suffering from memory loss. It already bothered him that he had such feelings for a former student, a Gryffindor nonetheless, but one of the things he learned in life was that love was a fickle thing. Everyone needed and wanted it even though it hurt like hell and had a way of running your life in an unintended way. This was exactly how Snape felt at that moment. He ended up drinking the rest of the decanter of Ogden's Fire whisky. He eventually went to bed quite drunk as a result.

The week eventually passed with no sign of Hermione. Slowly, ever so slowly, Snape took less and less of his frustration out on his students. McGonagall observed all of this from a safe distance knowing not to push him too much. Occasionally she would direct a question his way to determine his state of mind, but he gave little away. This of course was a common occurrence with Snape.

Eventually a month passed and Snape seemed his former self. He was chipper enough in his depressive and demanding way. McGonagall finally felt comfortable asking the question that was on her mind for just as long as Hermione had been gone.

"Severus, what happened between you and Miss Granger the last evening you were together?"

They were seated in her office and had previously been discussing school matters and Harry Potter. Snape was not surprised by the question. He had been waiting for it for some time; however, he had yet to put it into words.

"Minerva, I'd rather not discuss it," he said. He was only half convinced of that though.

She seemed to read his mind. "Severus, the longer you wait, the more difficult it will be."

He took a deep breath and sighed. "If you must know, we were both rather drunk in the end."

McGonagall immediately assumed the worst. "You didn't . . ."

"No, not sex, Minerva," he cut in quickly. "I'm not stupid!"

Her relief was obvious.

He continued. "I helped Hermione home. Before I left, she request that I kiss her. I knew it wasn't exactly a wise thing to do, but in my drunken state I was unable to stop myself. I promise you, I did not go further."

McGonagall looked sadly at Snape. Reliving the experience was difficult for him and she could tell he relived that moment countless times in his head. Getting it out had to be a relief of sorts, but it also meant confessing to a moment no one else was privy to. "Severus, if you need anything . . ."

"Please, don't." He sighed again. "Sometimes it's all that keeps me going." He sounded absolutely torn.

: P

Hermione stood outside the door, shell shocked and guilty. She had no idea how much that moment had truly meant to him. And somewhere in her mind, several statements he made to her while drunk clicked into place.

End Chapter 10