Ambiguous Affections

Chapter one: A meeting of the minds

Disclaimer- not mine.

Professor Hermione Granger groaned as another hand floated into the air. She had not pictured herself teaching at the same school she had apprenticed at ten years earlier, but yet here she was. Not at Hogwarts as many expected, but at Beauxbatons.

When time came for her to participate in her Potions apprenticeship, she couldn't picture herself being an independent teacher or learning anything where her past teachers would likely coddle her. Plus, the further away from London, the better.

"Yes Mr. Hannigan?" She said with obvious irritation. The child looked simply to his cauldron where instead of the intended green cloudy vapor there was a purple mess similar to that of bubble gum. "Detention again, Mr. Hannigan?"

"Oh goodie! You're all excited. Tomorrow night at seven." She finished crisply and continued to the front of the classroom. She had lost all of her patience for the idiots at this school. It was bad enough that the students found it nearly impossible to go five minutes without doing something senseless, but the staff did as well.

The staff was not kind, causing her to adapt to the harsh sarcasm and rude gestures or remarks after a mere week and a half of teaching. Her bright personality had become buried under layers of defensive scathing wit, and it wasn't something she regretted.

As her students placed vials of varying potions on her desk she reflected on her career at Beauxbatons. She had recieved a decent education and had been a damn good teacher.

She couldn't help but bore of her surroundings. No conversation unless it was compiled of biting remarks and the library was third class. As the class chime sounded the students hurriedly packed their belongings and scattered off to their dinner like flies. She chickled to herself, for the first time she realized that she must be as bad as Snape at this point.

Her chuckles stopped almost immediately. Hogwarts was a memory now, one she didn't feel like repeating. In her last year she, Harry, and Ron had gathered the remaining horcuzes. More like she gathered them.

The inevitable fight between Voldemort came and went with Harry being the victor. Instead of living her last days at Hogwarts worry free like she had expected nearly her whole world collapsed around her.

Her thoughts ceased their trail around her head as the chime for dinner sounded throughout the room. She slammed her fist down onto her desk in frustration.

"Bloody chimes!" She ground out through clenched teeth. "They couldn't use anything conventional like bells or whistels or ruddy lights, no CHIMES!" she thought aloud.

She stalked the halls with ease and a blackened confidence, students fearing her and the staff avoiding her. She walked into the dining hall and to her place at the end of the staff table, knowing that she was not on amiable temrms with any member of the staff.

For Hermione, it had been hard adjusting to. But she soon did, and grew quite fond of seeing how much she could be hated at this fine institute.

She viewed the rest of the staff through her peripheral vision; eye contact had been abandoned many years ago. She saw Gritnick, the Herbology professor, eying the last pastry, she quickly darted her hand out and munched happily before turning and looking shocked at the irritated professor.

"Oh, im sorry. Did you want that?" she said, her mouth so full that little bits of pastry were spilling from the edges. Of course, the plate would refill itself, but she enjoyed the momentary satisfaction.

Dinner was the normal affair, glaring, not eating, and fighting a major nicotine craving. At least she hadn't issued any detentions for tonight. So quickly excusing herself without a single raised eyebrow she took the staff entrance and shortly found herself outside.

She fumbled inside her robe for a cigarette. She had picked up the nasty little habit in her three-month tour of the America's for her University Muggle Studies class. Those three months had changed her point of view and living habits more than even she recognized.

She really did love America though. It was a place where she wan;t known as the friend of the beloved Harry 'I refuse to die' Potter. She shrugged her thoughts away as she wrapped her robes tigher around her thin frame. The March night held a strange chill, and it allowed her to lose herself in the breeze and cloud of nicotine scented smoke.

She looked up to the night sky expecting to see stars, instead finding a sky filled with a familiar skull, a familiar serpent, and a familiar green tinge.

"Shit." She swore to herself. She wasn't even half done with her cigarette. 'Bugger it' she thought to herself, if they were under attack, would the headmistress care if she smoked in the halls?

She started at a brisk run to the dining hall. She was never one for theatrics, and while she did hate this school, she would never wish harm to anyone. "Stupid Gryffindor traits" she muttered.

She pushed the doors open easily and ran to the center of the staff table where the headmistress was seated. "Headmistress, the mark!" she said loudly.

The headmistress quickly emerged from behind the table. "Granger, assign someone to get the students somewhere safe. I'll contact help. Get a team ready." Hermione could only nod and motion to the least helpful teacher. He didn't have any dueling skills but he had a keen eye with protection charms.

"Take the students to the library. Its in the dungeons, it should be safe. Ward the doors and place a blending charm on yourselves. GO!" She said as the little man stood shaking.

Getting frustrated, Hermione decided to encourage the imbecilic man. "Please, the children's lives are in your hands. We are depending on you here." She said with with what could be called a smile.

The man nodded and began signaling to the students to follow him.

Once the students had exited the room she turned to the teachers who awaited her commands. "Farora, Melovent, Astrid, take the left corridor and secure the castle. Brock, Tally, Roxanne, come with me. We will secure the grounds. Prepare for a fight."

The teachers let their sadistic attitudes fade as the situation rose. Hermione ran briskly, throwing her cigarette down in the entrance hall. She opened the doors and gasped as she saw at the far edge of the grounds a good forty men entrating upon them.

"Ten to one people. Take out as many as you can." She nodded to them in a small gesture of encouragement and shivered as the protection spells were put into effect.

She raised her wand and aimed for her first victim. Her colleagues did the same. The first spell was from her wand. After that sparked a somewhat disappointing battle. It was over within an hour. The men, obviously rookie death eaters, were unprepared and ill educated.

They now lay bound and only two members of the staff were in the infirmary.

Hermione walked over the bound bodies, ensuring that they were all correctly bound. They wouldn't be escaping tonight. Hermione let her mind wander. Voldemort had been dead for a decade. Who was rounding up his old followers? And why now?

The first name that popped into her head was that of Malfoy. She wondered for a moment why that name had wound itself into her mind. The junior Malfoy had proved his loyalty to the side of light when he, like a certain potions Professor, began spying. The elder Malfoy was rusting away the rest of his days as a patient in the criminally insane ward of St. Mungo's under heavy security.

She shook her head and groaned as she walked back to where her colleagues were standing, all talking to the aurors that had just started popping in. They all seemed to be giving her name, and she wanted to put them all in a line and slap them as she realized what aurors were doing the questioning.

She turned around instantly as she recognized a familiar dash of red hair. She looked for an exit and seeing one, she quickly skirted around ministry officials, and into the building. She pulled out a cigarette and lit it as she head up to her tower.

Unlike Hogwarts, Hermione chose to teach her classes with open windows as the fumes did nothing for her hazardous hair. Hence, the tower. She shrugged off her cloak as she entered her personal chambers. She tossed it onto the nearest chair and slid comfortably on the sofa.

She summoned a small sifter of brandy and with a quick swirl she was happily sipping on her sofa. She knew they would come for her eventually, as the one who had seen the dark mark and actually disarmed most of the death eaters, she was obviously top candidate for investigation.

She groaned as she felt the beginning of a migraine in her temples. Hopefully the two aurors she had seen downstairs would not be the ones doing the questioning.

As the thoughts entered her mind there came a knock at the door. She hid her face in the cushions of the sofa. The knocking continued so begrudgingly she stood. "Hold on a bloody minute!" She said fumbling with her cloak and trying desperately to extinguish the cigarette.

She opened the door, and instead of seeing the loathed aurors, or even a stranger, there stood her teacher of seven years and appointed Head Mistress of Hogwarts, Minerva Mcgonagall.

"Professor?" She said, momentarily losing the bite in her voice. She motioned for the professor to come inside and as she did, a taller, cloaked figure followed.


Severus Snape was rarely a man to find pleasure in any given day, and today had endeed been more trying than many he had experienced in all of his 45 years on this earth. Not only did he endure a day of teaching dunderheads a subject that injured too many of them o n a daily basis, but now he was cleaning up the bodies and remains of what could harldy be described as a death eater raid.

And why was he cleaning this mess up? Because of a sniveling know it all. He groaned as he followed Minerva through numerous hallways and up random staircases until they reached what he presumed to be the door of the bushy beast herself.

He found he was correct when he heard a shocked voice usher them in with a squeaked "Professor?". His vision was skewed by the dim light of the hallway but once they entered the room he could very well see the girl, or woman, in front of him.

She had changed quiet a bit. She had grown a few inches taller, the top of her head now reaching the top of his chest. He couldn't see her hair all that well, but it wasn't escaping from the neat plait that lay on her back to claim villagers as its own, so he figured that had changed as well.

Seeing as the atmosphere was completely different here than it was in England, it was understandable. he looked at her standing there, was it just him, or had her once hungry eyes lost their vigor?

He sat promptly in one of the chairs by the fire. The Granger girl then strode behind him, sitting on the lounge. She fumbled in her pocked for a moment, pulling out a cigarette. What else had changed about this girl? She fimbled inside her robe, presumably for a match or a light, and she seemed to have difficulty finding one.

With deft movements he had a small flame in front of her face in moments. She gratefully took it, not thanking him though, which surprised him. Minerva sat next to her on the lounge and looked down her nose at her.

"Hermione, i do believe we have some things to discuss." She said quietly.

The girl looked surprised. "Really? I was aware that I was to be kept out of discussions." She said with a bit of malice.

"Hermione, do you have any idea why the death eaters were on grounds tonight?"

"Not really, but obviously you're dying to tell me."

"They were here for you, Hermione."

Hermione picked up the sifter from in fron t of her, took a swallow, then proceeded to calmly lift the glass and hurl it into the fiire. As the glass shattered and the flame reacted to the alcohol the girl stood.

"What do you want from me?" She said throwing her cigarette down and grabbing her cloak.

The entire time he couldn't help but remain in silent awe at the massive amount of change that had occured in this girl. She was snarky, defensive, and malicious. She was beginning to remind him of himself.

"Minerva, I do believe you are here for a reason. You're not good with friendly warnings. You have a greedy glint in your eyes worse than that of a damned weasley, and i dont see any repulsive colored hair in this room, so just bloody spit it out." She said calmly.

Snape snorted from his seat in the corner of the room, and poured himself a sifter of brandy. 'Touche' he though, 'the girls got spunk.'

A/N- well. Review already and tell me if you loved/hated it. The next chapter is finished and will be put up shortly. Next chapter-- an explanation.. a visit to the past.. and a midnight conversation between Severus and Hermione.