AUTHOR'S NOTE: This whole thing is basically just me attempting to write again consistently and not care if it's utter trash. I'm writing as if no one will ever read this so if there are inconsistencies, well that's just how it's going to go! And believe me, I'm well aware of the choppy scenes, overuse of certain words, etc. That being said, thanks so much for viewing my garbage and I hope you enjoy. The goal is to update weekly.

*GENERAL DISCLAIMER AND ALL THAT SUCH AND SUCH*

CHAPTER ONE

"Professor Snape?" Hermione knocked lightly on the open door, "May I come in?" She watched him set another essay on the ever-growing stack upon his desk, the red marks visible from where she stood.

Her feet ached from working in the Hospital Wing all afternoon. Apprenticing under Madam Pomfrey was a dream come true, but Quidditch injuries were honestly worse than some of what she'd healed after the battle a year and a half ago. Not to mention the hostility that still raged between the Gryffindors and Slytherins. She'd hoped it would mellow out, that compassion might spark after so many had been lost, but the students seemed angrier than ever. Angry at the world for its injustice. Angry at Hogwarts for failing them. Angry at themselves for what they couldn't control. They would all be slow to move on…and so Hermione had spent the day administering Skele-Gro to a bunch of sulking teenagers who used Quidditch to cope with the darkness that still lingered.

Merlin, I'm ready for this day to be over. She fought the urge to kick off her shoes and sit right there on the floor of the Potion Master's office.

The man dipped his quill in ink and stretched his arms briefly. He rolled his shoulders backward, once, twice, before bending over the essays once more. "The door is open, Apprentice Granger," he said, "Either come in or cease your loitering."

"Yes, sir. I'm sorry, sir." She stepped into the office and the ache in her feet melted away. Her eyes widened a fraction and she bit back a smile at the discovery. He's charmed the rug! Oh, that's brilliant! She took a seat in the chair opposite him. "Did you hear what happened on the Quidditch pitch? Madam Pomfrey said she hadn't used that much Skele-Gro in one day since your time as a student, Professor! Might I ask what charm you've placed on the rug? My feet were about to fall off just a minute ago but they're good as ever now. I'd love to —"

"Apprentice Granger!" Snape barked, "Are you so dimwitted that you feel I would be up for chatting or is there something you require?"

Hermione felt her face grow hot. She pressed her palms into the cushion of the seat and clenched her jaw. Why must he always do this? Always making a bad day worse! He certainly has a knack for it. Six months working alongside the staff and still he treats me like a misbehaving student! Alright, Hermione, just swallow your pride. Not everything has to be a battle. He goes low, you go high!

"Of course, Professor. I apologize. The Hospital Wing is rather low on a few standard potions after today's…well, after today. I have a list here that Madam Pomfrey would appreciate your —"

Snape scoffed, "I have no time for this! She knows I have no time! Blasted woman. You may use the lab to brew what is needed, Miss Gra — Apprentice Granger. I'm sure you could brew them in your sleep. Simply send your patronus ahead of time so that I may clear a space for you. No doubt this was Poppy's intention sending you here in the first place."

"Sir?" Hermione sat up straighter, "I don't understand."

He slashed his quill across another essay and set the paper atop the rest. "If she has not spoken with you about it, I will not act as messenger. As I said, you may use the lab."

Hermione resisted the urge to roll her eyes at his prickly manner. "Thank you, sir. I'll leave you to your marking." She stood and made her way to his office door, stopping when he cleared his throat behind her.

"I —" he started, "I did not charm the rug."

She looked over her shoulder, "Excuse me, sir?"

He looked uncomfortable, shifting slightly in his chair. The quill in his hand dripped a blot of red ink onto the mahogany desk. "You inquired about my rug but I did not charm it. There is no charm on the rug."

Hermione nodded slowly, "There is no charm on the rug."

"As I said."

"Oh. Well…alright, sir. Thank you."

He nodded curtly and waved her away.


The Hospital Wing was calm and quiet when she returned. A few lit candles spilled warm light against the stone walls. The rowdy Quidditch players were sleeping soundly beneath crisp white sheets, and the smell of tea and scones lingered in the air.

Hermione smiled to herself. She was only a year or two older than most of them but they all looked so little. Even those she'd fought alongside during the Battle of Hogwarts seemed decades younger than her. It was a heavy feeling, noticing the difference between herself and the group that should have been her peers. Heavy to know how much had changed. How much she had changed. Still…the feeling wasn't unwelcome.

It settled deep into her bones. It pulled at the blood in her veins. It was a part of her now and she was honored to carry it. She was honored to have fought for these rowdy, sulking, angry Quidditch players. Honored to help give them the chance to be young. To do the things that young people should do. The things she missed out on.

Yes, they were angry. Of course they'd been impacted by the war! Their lives had been upended, their loved ones lost! And home? Home became something hard to identify and difficult to trust. Still, Hermione saw so much light in them. So much hope.

"Madam Pomfrey?" she whispered, "Are you still here?"

"The Madam is in her office, Missy Granger," a small house elf responded from beside an unmade hospital bed. One of the elf's ears curled backward at an awkward angle and she carried a small brush and dustpan. "Wren is just sweeping crumbs. Does the 'Prentice wants tea and scones? Wren can bring more!"

Hermione smiled, "No, thank you, Wren. I appreciate the offer. Madam Pomfrey is in her office, you said?" The little elf nodded, her ear uncurling and flopping back into place, before snapping her fingers and disappearing.

The Hospital Wing office held the records of every student who ever attended Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. Hermione recalled looking through hers for a page or two before slapping it shut at the mention of Polyjuice and whiskers…

More than once, she'd been tempted to search for Professor Snape's record. She knew Madam Pomfrey kept it updated during his years as a spy…and she knew there would be notes about his recovery from Nagini's bite.

It was pride, she knew. Ego. But she couldn't help it! She wanted to know if she'd done well that night in the Shrieking Shack. Staying behind to heal Professor Snape had been one of the most impulsive decisions she'd ever made. Merlin, she'd been terrified. So much blood. Ugh, I can still smell it. Don't think too hard, Hermione. Just breathe. Good girl.

"Hermione, dear?" Madam Pomfrey opened her office door, "Did you meet with Severus?"

"I did," Hermione stepped into the cozy room and toed off her shoes, "He said I can use the lab to brew what we need." She relaxed onto the sofa and stretched her legs across the cushions. Her curls poofed around her face as she pressed her neck against the armrest. She tilted her chin up and turned her head from side to side - a feeble attempt to massage away the ache in her shoulders.

Madam Pomfrey laughed, "A bit sore, dear? No need to violate my poor sofa, I'll fetch some bath salts for you. My special recipe for days like this!"

Hermione snorted and sat up, "Bath salts, hmm? Madam Pomfrey —"

"Poppy, dear."

"Of course. Poppy…right," Hermione hugged her knees to her chest and pursed her lips, "Professor Snape seemed to be under the impression that you had…ulterior motives when you sent me down with that list."

Madam Pom — Poppy rummaged through a drawer before pulling out a small jar. She tossed it to Hermione, "That'll ease the aches! Use as much or as little as you like. If you enjoy it, we'll whip up some more." The older woman puttered around her desk, hands fluttering over random papers and moving things from corner to corner unnecessarily.

She's avoiding me! Hermione jumped up, "You did have ulterior motives! What's going on? What scheme have you concocted?"

Poppy put a hand to her heart and gasped, "I do not scheme!"

Hermione laughed, "You do! I've heard Minerva say as much. You, Madam Pomfrey, are a meddler! Especially, I've heard, when it comes to Professor Snape."

Poppy clicked her tongue, "Yes, well, Severus needs someone to meddle. He'd let the earth swallow him whole if left to his own devices."

"Madam Pomfrey —"

"Yes, yes, I know. I — well, I asked Professor Snape if he would consider taking you on as his Apprentice."

"But I'm your Apprentice."

Poppy smirked, "It is not unheard of for especially accomplished witches and wizards to perform a dual Apprenticeship. Healing and Potions certainly go hand in hand, don't you think?"

Hermione shook her head, mouth hanging open at the absurdity of the notion, "He won't accept me! Professor Snape has never taken on an Apprentice! Really, Madam Pomfrey? He's simply going to hate me more because you planted the thought!" She groaned and flopped back onto the sofa, hanging her head in her hands.

The Hogwarts Matron sat beside her young apprentice and squeezed the girl's shoulder.

"He said yes."


Hermione was hardly surprised when the castle placed her new room just around the corner from the library. She knew the sentience of Hogwarts was at times debated by members of the Wizarding world, but it was abundantly clear to her from the first time she stepped foot inside the castle that its walls held an awareness of some sort.

The Headmistress held a bit sway over the castle, of course, but Minerva confided in Hermione that the building truly had - at least in her very experienced opinion - a life of its own. And quite the personality! The moving staircases were proof of that. To debate the sentience of the castle was sheer foolishness!

Hermione often found herself stroking the stones or patting doors as she passed by, saying a quiet, "Hello." The castle would hum with magic at her touch. Energy pulsing beneath her palm and warmth at her fingertips.

She took a moment to admire the door Hogwarts had created for her. An intricately carved piece of wood, wood she hadn't been able to identify, that seemed to grow in detail each day. The Healer emblem, a wand and bone in the shape of an X, stood out at the top. Running down the middle of the door was the sword of Gryffindor, which separated two scenes. On the left, the castle itself, surrounded by the tiny figures of witches and wizards with their wands raised. On the right? Well, it seemed the castle hadn't made up its mind yet. At first it showed a small cottage, then a herd of unicorns, and now…the image was blurred. Like a poorly cast Notice-Me-Not.

She smiled softly and whispered her password. "Magnuficentia."

The wooden door opened and she chuckled when she heard the fire already crackling in the hearth. "You always know just what I need," she spoke to the castle, "Thank you."

What a day, Hermione thought as she tossed Madam Pomfrey's little jar of bath salts onto the bed and began unbuttoning her blouse. She'd left the Hospital Wing in a daze, caught between her utter exhaustion and the buzzing in her brain. The possibility of an apprenticeship with Severus Snape had thrown her, or rather chucked her very violently, off the steady pace she'd worked so hard to find.

She could feel the adrenaline kicking in at the mere thought of such an academic achievement. Could she go for a triple apprenticeship? Was that even possible? Would Professor Flitwick accept her for Charms as well?

Oh Merlin, slow down, Hermione! You promised Harry you wouldn't overwork yourself. Oh…Harry.

She needed to floo the Potters. This new development…well, she was sure they'd be excited for her. But how would Harry react to an apprenticeship with Snape?

Don't be foolish, you know how he'd react. You only just got him to stop owling the poor man! Damn, I don't want to put myself in the middle of all that. Maybe I won't tell him yet. Nothing's finalized, after all.

She bit her lip. Her brow furrowed as she wiggled her way out of her trousers and kicked them to the side with a sigh. She picked up the jar of bath salts and made her way into the bathroom. The tub was, of course, already full. She laughed out loud again at the castle anticipating her every need. I wonder if it behaves this way with anyone else here. It must. Such a funny personality. Maybe not the students, though. I noticed its sentience but I'd never heard of Hogwarts…involving itself so much. Perhaps it chooses to interact more directly with the staff.

She sprinkled the bath salts into the water. They dispersed with a slight purple glow and Hermione inhaled the sharp scent of Lavender and Licorice. Slowly she lowered herself into the tub, her joints popping before she settled in and reached to twist her hair atop her head with her wand acting as a hairpin.

The aches melted away. The mysterious bruises scattered here and there on her legs faded until her skin was smooth and clear. Hermione let her mind calm itself and her breathing deepened until she could no longer keep her eyes open. Her hair spilled out from its nest and the ends of her curls dipped into the water.

The castle dimmed the bathroom lights.


Hermione muttered to herself as she finished buttoning her Apprentice robes. The students and staff, save a few groggy Quidditch players yet to be released by the Hogwarts matron, were finishing their breakfasts in the Great Hall. Hermione had opted for a quick stop at the kitchens for some tea and toast before making her way to the Hospital Wing.

Her sleep had been wonderful. Sure, she'd woken up pruny and her hair was a frizzy mess, but she hadn't had such a rejuvenating rest in a long time! And in a bathtub for Merlin's sake! She'd be asking Madam Pomfrey for her recipe soon enough.

"Apprentice Granger?" A voice croaked from one of the beds to her left, "Could I have some more Pain Relief Potion?"

Hermione smiled at the boy's messy hair and sleepy face, "Let me check Madam Pomfrey's records first, Mr. Kittridge. If you've had any in the last eight hours, you'll have to wait a bit longer. But if that's the case, I'll fetch some hot towels for you, alright?" Gavin Kittridge nodded, his eyes half closed, and rolled onto his side with a little groan.

A quick look at the boy's chart and Hermione made her way over to the pantry. She sighed at the nearly empty shelf. Lucky Gavin, she thought, only one Pain Relief left. I suppose I'll have to speak to Professor Snape now. She grabbed the small phial and locked the pantry with a quick wave of her wand.

"Alright, Mr. Kittridge," she said as she stepped toward the boy's bed, "I'm setting the Pain Relief right here. You can take it whenever you're ready to sit back up."

BANG!

The Hospital Wing doors flung open and Hermione spun into a dueling stance. Damn war reflexes. She heard Gavin hit his head on the bed frame as he jumped into a seated position, "Oof!"

Professor Snape raised a brow at Hermione's outstretched arm. She rolled her eyes at his dramatic entrance and tucked her wand back into her sleeve. "Professor Snape. Please remember this is a Hospital Wing. We have ill and injured students in our care and would prefer to minimize their levels of stress during their stay." She pointedly looked at the students rustling in their beds, all of them groaning at their rude awakening.

"I'll take that potion now, Miss." Gavin said awkwardly as he rubbed the back of his head, wincing.

Snape smirked and folded his arms across his chest, "Your patient needs tending, Apprentice Granger."

She clenched her fists and sent a heavy breath through her nostrils, holding the Professor's stare. "The Pain Relief is just to your left, Gavin. Professor Snape, I'll speak to you in the office."

He nodded and began walking ahead of her, his large strides quickly putting distance between them. Hermione rolled her eyes and followed slowly. I won't run after him if that's what he's trying to get me to do. He can wait right there at the office door until I say the password.

"Sanguis et Ossium." She heard him mutter from a few feet away. Ugh, of course he already knows it. She quickened her pace and shut the office door behind her before turning to face him.

He kept his back to her, his hands clasped behind him as he stared at the file cabinets against the walls. She stared at his back, her eyes wandering down to his hands. The tips of his fingers were stained with black ink. His white cuffs peeking out from beneath the sleeve of his black robes, obsidian buttons glistening under the warm office lights. She knew those hands near as well as her own. Years of watching him brew potions and mark essays had permanently etched the shape of his hands into her mind. Not to mention, of course, the memory of his hands fluttering at the wound on his neck that night in the Shrieking Shack.


"Take…it…take…it…"

Hermione's eyes widened as the memories spilled out alongside Snape's blood. She panicked for half a second before conjuring a flask and shoving it into Harry's shaking hand.

She stared as Harry coaxed the memories into the flask with his wand. What do I do? Her mind raced with options. What do I do? What do I do?

She felt her magic pooling behind her ribcage and in the pit of her stomach, and vaguely heard Ron's voice, "Hermione, what's happening? What are you doing?" But she paid him no mind. This has to work, she thought, I can't let him die.

She pulled on her magic. Furrowing her brow as she tugged at the energy, she could feel herself growing warmer. Then colder. Then hot.

"Harry!" Ron's voice shouted, muffled, beside her, "Something's wrong with Hermione and we have to GO!"

Hermione opened her eyes, barely realizing she'd screwed them shut in the first place, and flexed her hands at her sides. Fuck, I hope they don't hit anyone on the way! "Accio Dittany! Accio Antivenin!"

She hand't meant to shout the words so loudly but her throat felt raw as they tore from her mouth. She kept hold of her magic, hands outstretched, sweat on her brow, and she waited…

One.

Two.

Three.

Four.

Five.

"Ron, Harry, duck!"

They did as they were told and two phials smacked into Hermione's hands. "Boys, go," she commanded, "I'll catch up."

Ron sputtered but Harry nodded, his eyes dark, and squeezed her shoulder, "Be safe. Come on, Ron." He dragged the redhead away before he could protest.

Hermione blinked, astonished that the accio had worked at all, before throwing herself to her knees beside Snape. His eyes rolled in her direction but they were unfocused and his eyelids fluttered. His hand moved feebly against the wound on his neck and Hermione grasped his fingers before raising his bloody knuckles to her lips, kissing them lightly. His eyes shot open and he glared at her.

"Not too dead to be offended, I see," Hermione wiped the blood off her mouth. What the hell was that? Sucha stupid impulse! Hermione, what were you thinking? He's got Nagini's venom running through him! She quickly spat behind her before facing the man again.

"Alright Professor," her voice shook, "I don't know how well these will work but I took a stupid, Gryffindor risk and accio'd them from your private stores in the castle so I'm pretty impressed with myself already. Let's try to save your life, yeah?"

His throat gurgled unpleasantly but Hermione had the sneaking suspicion that it would've been a laugh had his neck not been so…tattered.

"Just try to stay awake while I work, okay?" She stared into his eyes, willing him to really see her. To hear her. To trust her.

He nodded.

She went to work.


"Granger?"

Hermione blinked and looked up to find Professor Snape staring at her. "I apologize, sir. I was…distracted."

"Indeed."

"Is there something I can do for you, sir? I was going to send my patronus later this evening. To use the lab, that is. For the…for the Hospital Wing. I mean for our potions. To replenish our potions." She winced. Pull it together, Granger! Stop thinking about the Shack. There's no blood. Everything's fine.

Something in Snape's face changed and he took a step toward her. Then another. "Are you ill, Miss Granger?" He tilted his head to the side and narrowed his eyes.

Hermione shook her head and stepped backward as he continued to move toward her.

"You're pale."

Hermione shook her head again, "No! No, I'm fine Professor. And it's Apprentice Granger, please."

Snape pulled back and sneered, "Of course."

The silence was awkward as they stared at one another.

"Well?" He hissed, "Do you accept?"

Hermione tucked her hair behind her ear and moved to put Madam Pomfrey's desk between herself and the irate Professor. "I'm sorry, what?"

Snape clenched his jaw. His cheeks flushed the palest pink before he let his hair fall forward to hide his face. "Fine, then!" He was out the office door before Hermione knew what was happening.

She looked around the empty office, confused. She felt trapped. Caught between the odd moment in her present and the darkness of the Shrieking Shack. Her brain itched as she struggled to focus. What just happened? Ugh, I can smell the blood. Just breathe. Breathe.

Then it clicked.

Oh, Merlin, the apprenticeship! He wants you as his apprentice!

Hermione gasped and flung herself out the office door, "Professor!"

One of the students giggled at her outburst before Gavin cleared his throat. "He flew out the door already, Miss."

"UGH!" Hermione groaned and ran across the Hospital Wing, narrowly avoiding bumping into Poppy as she returned from breakfast, "Professor Snape! Professor, wait!"

She shook her head and tried again to pull herself out of the memory of his blood on her lips. His hand gripping her arm as the Dittany sealed his wound shut. His breath on her cheek as she peeled his hair away from the blood on his neck.

Shake it off, Granger. You're okay.

She rounded the corner and sighed in relief when she saw him. "Professor!"

He pivoted slowly, glaring at her, "Yes, Apprentice Granger?"

"You asked me if I accept."

He went rigid as his nostrils flared.

"You're offering me an apprenticeship. You want to know if I accept."

The Professor said nothing.

Hermione rocked on her heels. She felt dizzy. It looked like he'd moved closer but her vision was blurring and oh, Gods, the blood. She plastered on a smile. "I would be honored, sir."

Now she knew he was closer to her than before. She felt his hand on her arm as he steadied her. She hadn't realized she'd been swaying on her feet. They stood there for a moment as she centered herself. He said nothing and she didn't dare look up to meet his eyes. Eventually she felt the world steady itself around her.

Gently, he released her. "Expect the official documents sometime this afternoon," he said, "I will see you in the lab at 7:00PM tonight. Do not be late."

Hermione nodded and forced herself to look up at him. His eyes were hard and she quickly looked away, clutching her shaking hands against her chest. Damn. He knows.

"Thank you, Master Snape," she smiled at him sadly and shrugged just a little. He nodded in silent understanding. We all do our best to live with the gifts war leaves us. "I'll see you then."