"You have got to be kidding me," Hermione muttered, angrily studying the letter she'd just opened. After a few more seconds, she tossed it onto the dining table at Grimmauld Place, snorting in disgust.
"What?" Ron asked through his mouthful of food. Breakfast had just been served, and he shoveled it down quickly, barely leaving room to breathe.
Despite the year living outside his family home since Voldemort's downfall, he still acted like the same school child she'd met almost eight years ago. Hermione grimaced slightly as she watched his cheeks bulge.
"My final interview went well. The Board has decided to formally accept my application to teach at Hogwarts, starting next week on the first of September. Although, it sounds more like they couldn't find a good reason to deny me since my exam scores were so high. I'm supposed to meet with Professor McGonagall to finalize my offer."
Ron's mouth fell open comically, showing the room the half-masticated mess that was in his mouth. Hermione tried to keep the disgust from showing on her face.
"That's great, Mione! I knew they had to let you teach." It took him a second or two to process her reaction. "Why aren't you happier?"
"I don't have enough experience to teach by myself. I need to assist an already seasoned professor for a year before I can be licensed to teach my own classes. Minerva thinks that I should share the position of Potions instead of Transfiguration. The Transfiguration professor is new, too, and Potions is the only other spot available."
Hermione slouched down in her chair, dejected. The opportunity to work at Hogwarts, especially teaching her favorite subject, had been exciting and thrilling. Now, it was slowly becoming a nuisance.
First, it had taken the ministry an agonizingly long time to pass Hermione through the required tests, despite Minerva's promises that she would have a student teaching job the moment she graduated. Then, the deadline for lesson plans had been moved up by more than two weeks because the new board of directors was trying to keep Minerva on her toes. Something about her proving the quality of the "staff". To top it all off, Hermione's accommodations had been changed numerous times during repairs to the school, as construction got delayed time and time again. In the end, she had chosen to stay at Grimmauld Place until the week before the start of term.
This time, Hermione was being asked to work with the one person she had been avoiding the most. It wasn't the hopelessness that came with the realization that if she couldn't complete her student teaching and final certification test within the year, she would have to start all over with the interviews and tests. It was dealing with the dark glances and the pressure of Professor Snape's glower every time she entered the room.
For some reason, he seemed to resent her for saving him in the Shrieking Shack. He hadn't said as much, but he had never thanked her, and every chance he got, he slid an insult her way. The thought of having to see him every day, and work side by side, made her stomach flip uncomfortably.
"Too bad you'd have to share the position with Snape," Harry said, putting down his newspaper to sip his tea.
"I was really looking forward to getting to work with Minerva." She sat up a little straighter as she summoned her Gryffindor courage. "I can work with Professor Snape. I did get an O on the Potion NEWTs." Only because it was proctored by a neutral ministry official, and not the man himself, but she wasn't one to split hairs.
"Are you sure? He's been so awful since…you know…" Harry looked at her over his tea.
"Don't forget he doesn't work well with others," Ron mumbled around his fork.
"That's right. It'd be less you working with him than you working for him," Harry added, gesturing with his copy of the paper.
Hermione knew that was true. He had been particularly nasty since he'd come out of St Mungo's. Treating him there had been a nightmare, according to his healers. He had refused help with rehabilitation, and it had resulted in what seemed to be a lingering muscle spasm in his neck and shoulders. If he really was that stubborn, there was no way he would allow her the kind of freedom in the classroom Minerva would have allowed.
On the other hand, Hermione had dealt with him for the past eight years, and she knew she could be just as hardheaded. If only she could be as cold and callous. It would be nice to have his mean comments roll off the way they did on his hard skin.
The boys watched her stare off into the distance for a minute.
"What're you going to do?" Harry finally asked. She sighed and watched Ron eat for a minute with mild distaste.
"I'll just have to take the job. Opportunity doesn't come without sacrifice."
She stood decisively, folding up the letter and sliding it into her back pocket.
"Yeah, with our arch enemy." Ron could barely be understood around his last mouthful of toast.
"You're confusing me with Harry. I tolerated Professor Snape for years. I can do it again."
"If you want to." Ron stood up and placed his dishes in the sink. "I gotta go pick up Luna from her dad's house. She went to get some more of his stuff before the Ministry ransacks the place again."
"They're called raids, Ron. And they aren't supposed to know about it," Harry said, following him to the sink. "Just don't bring anything else dangerous into this house. Kreacher is enough for now." The three of them glanced over to the dark corner where the ever-present yellow eyes followed him.
"Go have fun with your girlfriend," Hermione said. "I have to respond to this letter."
After penning out a quick response, she said goodbye as Harry left for work, and she began making herself a plate. Hopefully, Minerva would want to speak to her immediately to get things sorted. And hopefully, by the time the note got to her, Hermione's hands would stop shaking.
Breakfast was slow because she struggled to stomach anything. She couldn't focus on reading, all the packing had been done ages ago, and there wasn't much else to fill her time after she cleaned the kitchen. After a couple hours had passed, she decided to take a shower.
As she tested the temperature of the water, she noticed a note appear on the counter next to her clean clothes. Picking it up, she opened the folded sheet of parchment, frowning as she recognized the spiky handwriting.
Come see me immediately. The floo is open,
Professor Snape.
Knowing he meant immediately when he said it, she hesitated and looked down at herself. Already naked, shower running, hair tied up and wrapped… He could wait a few minutes, and she could use the time to calm her breathing. She stepped into the shower fully, consequences be damned.
The fire roared green as Hermione flooed into the potion master's private quarters. She stood in the dark room, eyes barely able to make out any shapes after the green flames died back down. Why weren't the candles lit?
She had stepped into a small living room. Even with the minimal lighting, she could still make out the bookshelves living the walls. The relatively small desk in the corner was covered in what looked like students' summer essays. His rooms looked exactly the same as they had the only other time she had seen it.
She heard a slight scuffling sound from around the corner.
"Professor Snape?" she called. Another small sound from her right made her turn. She walked across the room and entered a kitchenette. A long hallway extended from the kitchen, leading to a black metal door. There were cardboard boxes lining the walls of the hall, stacked four to a column.
Hermione stared down the dark hallway, waiting for movement or sound. The box closest to the eerie metal door shifted suddenly, and she gasped, jumping as she noticed a large figure bent in the shadows.
"Professor Snape?" She made her way forward cautiously, hand over her chest to calm her rapidly thumping heart.
"Ah. Miss Granger." She could tell from his cold voice that he wasn't happy. "I had hoped you would have arrived in a timely manner. You didn't have this unfortunate habit in school." He stood up fully, a black shape against the darkness of the door behind him.
She crossed her arms. "You interrupted a shower. I came as soon as I could."
"Of course," he sneered. She couldn't see his face fully, but her memories of him filled in the blank. Snape took a few steps forward and bent down to open the box closest to him. "These are the new supplies for this year's students. It is the responsibility of each professor to be prepared before the students' arrival. You must label and shelve them before the beginning of the semester."
Hermione stared at him in shock. She hadn't even spoken with Professor McGonagall yet, and he thought he could order her around? She bristled. Would the bastard never change?
"You sent me a note proclaiming urgency because you wanted help organizing school supplies? I thought it was something serious."
He took a few calculated steps forward as he spoke, his body language that of a stalking panther. He looked down his nose at her.
"I sent you a note proclaiming urgency because Minerva would like to speak to the two of us," he snarled. "As for the boxes, I thought it would be more efficient for you to handle the more mundane tasks, while I focus on the important ones. Not that I need to explain myself to my…assistant."
Hermione glared up at him. He hadn't truly scared her for a long while, and she had a stronger back-bone than she had had the last time they had squared off. However, it wouldn't help their working relationship to start an argument five seconds in. After a deep breath, she met his eyes calmly.
"I know you're trying to rile me up, Professor Snape, so I'll ignore that insult for the moment. Shall we go to the headmaster's office?"
He straightened back up to his full height, the need for dramatics having passed. "She shall come to us when she finds the time. I am sure she's already aware of your arrival."
"I'll wait here, then." Hermione's hands slid to rest at her sides.
"Marvelous," he said, sarcastically, turning back to the boxes along the wall. "The jars are in these boxes here, and the ingredients are along this side."
Snape made to pass her in the hallway, but she stepped in his way.
"You know as well as I that I am not your assistant, Snape. This is a partnership, not a dictatorship. I am not here for mundane tasks and servitude. I am here to gain proper experience inside the classroom."
Hermione felt the control she had over her anger slipping away.
He faced her fully, head coming down to her level. "You, Miss Granger, are not a professor until you complete one school year apprenticing under a licensed educator. You will be my aide, for all intents and purposes."
"Is this why you never take apprentices? No one is willing to do your dirty work for you?"
"I never take apprentices because there are never any intelligent applicants. I see you are much of the same." He sniffed in that way that made her want to curse him back to Tuesday.
She refused to back down to his ploy. "Right, so you interrupted my bath because you're lazy? Or just egotistical?"
"My apologies." Hermione didn't like the dark smile that crossed his face. She forced herself not to step backwards as he advanced on her. "I, of course, was not aware you were bathing. Had I been, I would have sent a howler instead." His eyes had narrowed into thin black slits. She noticed they seemed especially sinister in the shadow of his dark eyelashes.
"Had you sent something so childish, you're right. I would have rushed right over." She took a last step forward, jabbing a finger into his chest. "And you would be hexed into a puddle of meat, spelled to the wall for the rest of your unnatural life."
Neither of them had noticed the sound of the door in the other room or the audience they had. However, they did notice the gentle force that separated them to opposite sides of the hall.
"I see my star pupils are getting along just fine. I worried you two would be combative for no reason. I'm glad to be proven wrong."
Both heads turned to look at the tall woman striding towards them.
"Hello, Minerva. I'm glad to see you again," Hermione said, straightening the wrinkles in her shirt to hide the embarrassed blush on her cheeks.
"Can we please skip the pleasantries and move on to the reason you're here, Headmaster?" Snape demanded. Hermione's eyes narrowed at his disrespectful tone.
"Of course." Minerva clasped her hands together. "You must be wondering why I decided to pair the two of you up." There was an uncomfortable pause as she looked back and forth between the two teachers.
"Not really," Snape said, carelessly.
Minerva gave Snape a hard stare for a moment before continuing. "I think your personalities are wonderfully complimentary. The way you two will work together should be quite beneficial to the students. Besides, one of you can be a tad hard-headed sometimes, and you'll need someone who won't get pushed around too easily."
Hermione and Snape glared at each other. Minerva sighed. "To be frank, Hermione needs a disciplinarian to help her become stricter with the students, and Severus…" She fixed her stern gaze on his. "Not a single applicant would work with you. Most of them were ex-students."
Hermione tried to stifle her laughter and barely succeeded. It took a scowl from Snape before she was composed again.
"We will find a way to collaborate."
Minerva shot an appraising look at Snape.
"I will attempt to be tolerant," he conceded.
"Right, then. Living arrangements." Minerva clapped her hands together. "Both of you will need to share these quarters for the time being. We have no more room in the castle while rebuilding after the battle. All the apprentices are sharing living quarters with professors."
Hermione looked at Snape in panic. Even though his eyes barely widened, she knew he was just as upset as she was.
"But there's only one bedroom and bathroom, Minerva. You cannot expect us to share—"
"I do, and you will. There will be two beds. Put up a privacy screen if you must. You're both adults; I expect you to behave as such. It should only be for a week until the repairs are completed. Two weeks on the outside." She glanced at her watch importantly. "Oh, look at that. Almost time for tea. Excuse me."
Without further ado, Minerva turned and walked back to the door in the living room. "Oh, and congratulations on the job, Hermione. We're all very pleased to have you back in the school. Move your things in whenever you're ready."
With a wave and a bright smile at the young woman, and a hard look at Severus, she spun out the door, closing it behind her magically.
Almost before the door had slammed, Snape groaned, running his hand through his hair aggressively. "How did that holy terror think this was appropriate?"
Hermione crossed her arms and frowned. "Make the most of it. It's just like sleeping in the dorms. Besides, it may help us become comfortable with each other sooner."
Snape sneered. "Ah, yes. Gryffindor ideals. We must all be best friends after the war."
Hermione stared at him hard. "I never asked to be your best friend. This is all a matter of trust, yes? I trust you, for the most part."
He scowled down at her. "Trust me? Trust me to not do what? Rape you in the middle of the night? Take advantage of you in the shower?" He laughed darkly. "There's no chance of that."
He brushed past her to grab his wand off a stack of boxes, dismissing her shocked and offended look.
She stomped after him. "What makes you think you even have a chance to get close enough? May I remind you, I spent the better part of a year sleeping with one eye open."
He spun on her again, dark eyes flashing. "You forget my history, Granger. I spent the entirety of your lifetime looking over my shoulder."
Hermione crossed her arms, ready with a retort when he smirked again. "Besides, I prefer my women willing, able, and experienced, and you don't fit the bill."
Their eyes met, both flaming in anger. There was a moment as Hermione struggled to think of an appropriate retort through the haze of red over her eyes, that sparked something in her brain that she hadn't thought of in over a year.
Sweaty bodies came together again and again, Hermione's back rubbing almost painfully against the terrible yellow and brown fabric of the couch. She ignored it as she focused on the pleasure of her partner. Her hands roved down a sinewy back, into black trousers, then around his hips to the front of his pants.
"Gods, I missed you, kitten," he said, groaning into her hair as she found her mark. "Today was awful. I had to keep myself from grabbing you every time you walked past. Those poor students wouldn't have known what to do if I had acted on any of my thoughts."
She giggled as his stubble from the day rubbed up her neck behind his kisses. She felt a slight tickle travel up her side as he slid her shirt up, teasing her by rubbing along the seam of her bra. Just as he reached up into—
Hermione snapped back into the present, gasping in a breath. Snape was mere centimeters from her, gazing sharply into her eyes. His face filled her vision. She shrugged him off and stepped back, fighting off the blush she could feel rising to her cheeks.
"What was that, Granger?" he hissed, eyes narrowing.
"I'm fine. Just an old…memory," she muttered, avoiding his eyes in case he was attempting to access her mind.
Snape glanced from her flushed face to the quick rise and fall of her chest to the movement of her eyes as she stepped away from him. He took an intimidating step towards her. She took a small step away from him and found the pile of boxes to her back.
"Something private, Miss Granger?" he drawled. Whatever was bothering her so much had to be uniquely interesting or she wouldn't look so ashamed.
"Yes, private," she snapped. Her eyes locked with his so quickly, he was almost shocked. "And it's Hermione."
She crossed her arms across her chest again. She met his gaze with confidence, almost daring him to press further.
His head cocked to the side a little like a predatory bird. "Does it pertain to me?"
"How could it? Just an old memory." There was a silence as the two faced off. It was clear Snape didn't believe her, but he had no evidence to disprove her.
"Normally, I could not care less about the secrets of the prosaic mind. However, you have the uncanny ability to share too much personal information at the slightest provocation." He leaned forward, black eyes staring into Hermione's, searching. "It leads me to ask if it will affect our working relationship at all."
Hermione stood her ground. "Definitely not. I wouldn't let anything affect our working relationship. This opportunity is too important to me."
He looked into her eyes for a moment. She pursed her lips together stubbornly. "Okay," he answered tightly, dissatisfied.
After another moment, Snape cleared his throat and stepped away, side-stepping a box. Hermione tried not to smile. She had won a battle of wits with Snape.
"Yes, well, I suppose you ought to go back home and get any necessities. There is much to be done, and I require your…assistance."
This time she did smile. "Thank you for sort of asking for help. It's a start."
Hermione stepped away, brushing her hands down her robes, even though they weren't dirty. She could feel his eyes on her as she walked back to the fireplace, so she waved toward the dark hole that was the doorway to the kitchen, threw her powder onto the logs below her, and called for Grimmauld Place.
