Chapter 2

Snape walked down the hallway to the headmaster's office, his robes billowing behind him. He was there to claim his belongings and ensure that everything was delivered to his home on Spinner's End by the house elves without being damaged. His time as a Hogwarts professor was over. He was not sure if he was more relieved about the end of the war or no longer having to teach dunderheads every year. As he approached the doorway to his destination, Professor Mcgonagall stepped into the hallway.

"Ah, Professor Snape, what a pleasant surprise. I was just on my way to see you."

"Pray tell, why might you have been seeking my presence?" His voice was gravelly and seemed to take a great deal of effort to enunciate each word.

"I have a proposition for you." A dark look shrouded his face, but before he could dismiss what she was about to say Mcgonagall continued. "As you know, the school took a lot of damage in the war. Most of this has been rectified by volunteers from the community and we will be fully functioning by the time the term begins. There is, however, one area that we have been unable to acquire the proper assistance in performing the required tasks. We are in need of a Potions Master."

"I have no desire in continuing on as a babysitter for the inept fools that frequent these halls. I thought I had made this decision clear when I sent in my resignation last week. I am here to claim my possessions and then be rid of these haunted halls for good."

A smirk crept its way onto Mcgonagall's lips. "I don't remember asking you to. Quite the opposite actually, the vacancy of Potions Professor has already been filled by a bright and charming young woman from across the pond. I'm very excited to welcome her into the Hallowed Halls of Hogwarts."

This caught Snape off guard. She had said they were in need of a Potions Master, right? Why would they need two? Hogwarts has only ever had one Potions Master at a time. This time he chose to keep his mouth shut in order to not place his foot in his mouth once again.

"During the attack on the school we lost our stores of potions that have been brewed and collected throughout the years, along with the potion ingredients. Replenishing them will be a full time job. I would like to offer this job to you. The person in this position would be required to collect the ingredients and brew the potions. If possible, and deemed acceptable by the Master, an assistant may be arranged.

It is also in the works to create agreements with several apothecaries in which Hogwarts would sell their potions to them in order to create revenue for the school. Hogwarts vaults are running low since the war, I'm afraid Albus might have had something to do with this. The pay will be equivalent to in the past, but a percentage of the profit from the potions being sold will also be included. We can negotiate the details at a later date. This is my offer to you."

Snape did not know what to say. On one hand he would be able to do something that he enjoyed doing and make a profit from it, but on the other hand he would still be confined by the walls where he has experienced so much pain. Luckily, he did not have to reply right that second because a bushy haired, know-it-all Gryffindor chose that exact moment to interrupt their conversation.

"Professor Snape?" her voice was full of surprise and her facial expression mirrored the astonishment?

Both participants from the previous conversation looked towards the voice. Mcgonagall gave the young witch a small nod of her head in acknowledgement. Snape, however, studied the girl. Her body looked frail and her hair, though always bushy, seemed to have lost the life that it once had. He reluctantly added her to his mental list of casualties of war. His hands were stained.

"I am no longer a professor at this institution, and as such, you should not address me as such." His facial expression was neutral, trained to never show emotion. A miniscule amount of sadness crept into his being and he wondered where it had come from. She was no different than any other of the students; they had all lost part of themselves during the war, even himself. Especially himself. He pushed the thought away. "It is impolite to stare Ms. Granger. One might think you've lost your manners living like a vagabond."

The insult did not register. "I thought you were dead." The words were plain and simple, but true. Although a funeral had not been held, there had also been no word of his survival. The last time she saw him he was laying on the floor of the Shrieking Shack, bleeding out.

"As you can see, I am in fact alive." Snape turned back to Mcgonagall and said, "Let us discuss this proposition further. Perhaps somewhere we won't be interrupted again."

"My office is currently unoccupied. We may talk there." Mcgonagall bowed her head to Hermione and gestured to the door to her office, "After you." One corner of her lips turned up and there was a sparkle in her eye.

He had dismissed her just like that. She could see with her own two eyes that he was alive, but how? After Harry and Ron had left with Snape's memories, Hermione stayed behind. She had tried her hardest, but at the time she thought she had lost him. The wound on his neck would not stop bleeding no matter what spell she used. She even tried pouring an entire flask of dittany onto the wound, but the venom was keeping the wound from closing. There had been so much blood; her hands were covered in it.

His eyelids had slipped closed and he had lost consciousness by the time Hermione had given up hope. Her last attempt was to use a spell she had come across in the Forbidden Section of the library. Anima mea, cor meum, vita. She had not read the entire passage because it was not related to the research she was doing, but she had remembered it had something to do with life. In any other circumstances she would never use a spell she did not fully comprehend, but she was out of options and she did not think she could do any more harm than was already done.

A blue ball of light had exited the tip of her wand and seemed to enter Snape through his chest. A warmth spread through her, but there had been no change in Snape's appearance. Hermione had given him one last look before leaving. "I'm sorry," escaped her lips and then she was gone, back to the battle.

Before walking into the headmaster's office Snape glanced back at Hermione. He was not sure why he did so, but he did and when he did so his eyes caught hers. In that instant a memory flashed inside his mind. But it was not his memory; it was Hermione's. He was looking down on himself and spells were being performed to save his life. Hermione had saved his life. A quizzical expression made its way onto his face as he broke eye contact with Hermione. He had not meant to use legilimency on her, but he must have. What an odd occurrence.