Chapter 2
Classes were the same everyday. Arithmacy, Runes, Defense Against the Dark Arts. Then on Tuesdays and Thursdays, Charms, Transfiguration and Potions. Potions. The class itself was interesting and challenging to the young witch. However, it was the Professor that kept her attention.
Dark hair, dark eyes and a mind that rivaled any other in the entire Wizard World. His voice was liquid silk. His skin, so pale it almost glowed in the darkness of the dungeons. Here, Hermione was happiest and the saddest she had ever been in her entire life. It wasn't her first crush. Victor Krum held that position. Then there was Ron. Sweet, innocent and bumbling Ron. They had gone back and forth over the years, and it was only after Professor Dumbledore's death did they seem to meet on common ground. But it never progressed to anything other than a mutual affection and respect.
Then there was the war. It was over, Voldemort long gone, but never forgotten. Hermione was in her last, and final year at Hogwarts. She was eighteen and ready to be out on her own. Her heart greatly desired to free herself from the shackles of childhood and spread her wings in the adult world. Her visions were of creating spells and charms that protected people from Unforgivables. She had dabbled in theories in her spare time and saw the potential. Others had worked tirelessly over the centuries to do this, however they just couldn't think unconventionally. Using old theories and formulas, they have all reached the same conclusion. It couldn't be done.
But Hermione knew, no she felt it rather, that the secret to the unsolved mystery lay within her grasp. She just had to free up some of her time to devote her entire mind to the problem. Her entire life, Hermione was able to take a problem, wrap her mind around it and come up with a solution. It never mattered to her if it was a conventional solution. What mattered was the end result. Professor McGonagall had seen this about her in her first year at Hogwarts. She cultivated the young witch's abilities and allowed her free reign for extra credit work and research. Her sixth year had been interrupted by the war and the death of their Headmaster, but it couldn't put everything on hold for long. Life returned back to a new normal, and after a rather long break, she, Ron and Harry returned to Hogwarts to finish their education.
It was during this time that Hermione began to piece together the puzzle of Severus Snape. She watched him stir potions with the grace of a dancer. Watched his eyes, usually black as coals and void of feeling, emit a brightness that Hermione recognized immediately as he delved into a difficult potion.
She began to find that she understood his outbursts more and more. For she too lashed out at her friends and fellow Gryffindors whenever she was frustrated beyond belief. How could anyone not understand that when you sliced a Lilac flower petal it was lethal? But when you placed whole leaves into your brew that it was soothing and also added flavor to other potions that were normally tart and bitter?
Yes, Hermione saw herself in the Potions Master and she began to pity him. Her pity grew to feelings of kindness. Before long, her mind had painted a picture of him that not even realty could diminish. Hermione woke one day and found that she was in love with the Potions Master. But what to do? She never dreamed of telling anyone else. She did find herself almost betraying her thoughts as Harry and Ron were discussing their sorrow that Snape even made it through the war. They thought their last year at Hogwarts would have been much more enjoyable without him. Hermione exploded and threatened to hex them if they ever said anything like it again. The looks of shock and disbelief that painted her friends faces made her storm off in a rage.
But in reality, she stormed off and cried. How could they? How could they wish death on a person? Even if the person was Snape? After all, he did save them. He saved everyone. Except Dumbledore. But that…Hermione wiped the tears from her eyes and breathed deeply.
It was a few weeks after start of term that the seventh years were flooded with job offers from around the Wizarding World. After the war, the Ministry of Magic's employee roster was greatly diminished. Harry, or course, was inundated daily with owls requesting, and some demanding, that he work for the Ministry as Head Auror. Who would dare defy the Ministry while he was in charge?
Ron, however, received very few. His marks were simply not high enough, nor was his position in life. He received one owl from a Quidditch team, the Chudley Cannons, but it was second string. He knew, as did everyone else, that he would never play unless another player was seriously injured or dead. He also received an owl from a secret source that offered him gold beyond his wildest dreams if he were to just sign on the dotted line in blood. Ron was terrified of it and wouldn't touch it, Harry was skeptical of it and read and reread it, Hermione snorted into her soup. She knew, it was his brothers, Fred and George playing yet another joke on their gullible brother.
Hermione, on the other hand, had to create a filing system for the offers that were sent to her at all hours of the day. Owls from all over the world, sent by magnificent birds, flew to her night and day. Or course, the Ministry of Magic was requesting her to work for them in any and all capacities. Hogwarts had offered her an apprentice teaching position. Spell creators and Potion laboratories were becoming annoying in their attempts to out do one another. It was well known that The Chosen-One's best friend, Hermione Granger, was the smartest witch of the age. Everyone knew it.
Hermione had made up her mind long ago about her future. She just allowed everyone to think that she was still reviewing her options.
It was these thoughts that drove Hermione to do unthinkable. She was requesting a meeting with Professor Snape, to help guide her in her future endeavors.
Hermione wrote and erased the letter until she had it worded just right. She sealed it and placed it in an envelope. Would she hand deliver it during class? No. She would send it by owl and await a reply. Perhaps he wouldn't reply to her at all. He had never offered any help or advice to anyone outside of his house. But no Slytherin, this year or as far back as anyone could remember, held Hermione's abilities. She thought she could appeal to his inner Slytherin and name him and Professor Mcgonagall as her mentors.
Was that underhanded? Yes. But it would appeal to him to raise the community's view of him. For his reputation, at the present, suffered scrutiny and blasphemy. Hermione thought it might help him to attach his name to hers. Or, it would hurt her to attach her name to his. Either way, it was a gamble.
She sent the letter off with little hesitation.