Chapter 4- Fireplaces and Fire Whiskey

Severus Snape also awoke at an unusually early hour that morning with a feeling of dread in the pit of his stomach. He had known that someday he would receive it, but as the years had passed he had hoped that perhaps Hogwarts had forgotten about its famous (or infamous) Potion's Master. Long years of habit had trained him to not even think about all those years he had spent there. Teaching those foolish children and, in the last hellish years, serving as a spy for Albus Dumbledore. But when the owl had arrived, he had known that the day he dreaded was here.

Yes, he could have just ignored that owl, or sent back a reply that he had no interest in being visited by people who wished he was in his grave rather than those other souls more unfortunate than he. But something had stopped him. Perhaps a sick kind of curiosity to discover how Hogwarts was really doing. He had received news that the enrollment had dropped and they were having a hard time filling positions (Longbottom teaching Defence Against the Dark Arts indeed!) but perhaps he just wanted to hear about it first hand. Or perhaps, he thought with a smirk, he really just wanted to see Minerva McGonagall beg. See her in all her Gryffindor arrogance being forced to beg favors from Dumbledore's murderer. Yes, that had an amusing ring to it.

Or perhaps, he thought as he took a quick drink of fire whiskey, he could do nothing but imagine Albus' reaction if he did not respond. Of all things that infuriated him, it was the fact that the former Headmaster seemed to have taken up residence as his conscience that frustrated him the most. Why couldn't the man stay as dead in his thoughts as he was in reality? That was mostly what had driven Severus into seclusion. He could no longer tolerate both the constant berating from his own mind and the looks he was forced to endure when out it wizarding society. Eventually it became too much and he forced himself into seclusion with only his mind to torture him. He did, on occasion, receive a very few guests. Mostly unwelcome ones, such as Potter. He was the worst of all. Not because of the malice he held in his eyes, but because, of all things, the lack of it. Harry Potter. The one person on earth who had every reason to hate Severus Snape, the boy who had lost both his parents and his closest mentor because of his actions, did not treat him with the cold contempt that most strangers did.

"Stupid Gryffindors," he muttered taking another, longer, drink. "Don't even know how to hate like normal people."

But he did, on occasion, have guests that were somewhat welcome. People from his past that were neither Death Eaters nor members of the Order. People who preferred to ignore all that had transpired and who generally avoided the subjects. He had allowed these guests only because of his fear he would lose his mind if he spoke to no one; he did not consider any of them friends.

But otherwise, he spent most days shut up in his dilapidated home. He rarely ventured outside as the neighborhood had become more and more crime ridden and it was even rarer that he ventured anywhere where he would be recognized. He had most of his material needs owled to him at regular intervals as he had agreements with most of the shopkeepers in Diagon Alley. So there was rarely a need to travel outside these four walls. On the days when he felt he could not take the seclusion any longer, he apparated to a forest in the north, not far from Hogwarts. He would spend the day sitting in quiet contemplation listening to the wind and breathing the fresh cool air. The first time he had done this he had actually gone to the Forbidden Forest, but the memories had been too much and he had been forced to find another place to visit.

He paced back and forth in the front parlor glancing at the clock every few minutes wondering why he hadn't scheduled this for an earlier time. The sooner it was over with the sooner he could go back to his misery in peace. At least she would be on time, he thought to himself as he glanced at the clock yet again. One thing he could give Minerva credit for, she was punctual.

Sure enough, just as his clock finished chiming the hour, he saw a quick whirl of dark green robes. However, it was with both shock and dismay when he saw that it was not the Headmistress of Hogwarts who had entered his dingy sitting room.

"What are you doing here?" he spat at the young woman before she had even fully climbed out of the fireplace. "Where is Professor McGonagall?"

"Hello, Professor Snape," Hermione said clearly trying to keep her voice steady. "I'm afraid Professor McGonagall was unavoidably detained. She sends her regrets that she was not able to come personally."

"I'm sure she is overcome with disappointment," he growled in annoyance wishing now he had refused this meeting after all. It was one thing to be forced to deal with McGonagall, but instead to be forced into the company of the know-it-all Granger. Potter's lackey! It was more than he could stand. And look at her! Granted, she had at least managed to dress appropriately, but her hair was a mess, she looked like skin and bones and the dark shadows under her eyes gave her the look of a raccoon.

"Couldn't she have at least sent a suitable replacement? You look worse than Potter did lying in the hospital bed. Hell, you even look worse than Weasley at his own funeral." He noted with satisfaction that her face flushed a dark red, whether from anger or embarrassment he could not tell, and for a moment he thought he saw her eyes shine suspiciously bright. He took another drink.

"I was the only one available on such short notice," Hermione said regaining control over her emotions. "And I don't believe I am here for you to critique my appearance."

"It is just as well McGonagall didn't bother coming herself. This will be a short trip for you, Miss Granger. I have no intention of returning to Hogwarts, now or ever."

"And may I ask why?"

"You may ask whatever you want, but you may not like the answers," he snarled at her. "I hate to crush any childhood notions you had about your professors while you attended at Hogwarts, but I never had any desire to be a teacher. I was there only because of the protection I received from Dumbledore. Now that he is gone and the war is over, I have no reason to be there.

Hermione frowned. She didn't know what she had expected when she agreed to do this, but somehow she expected him to be a little more….polite.

'Stupid', she thought to herself. Since when had Snape ever been polite?

"Do you not feel any loyalty toward the school?"

"None whatsoever," he said as he took another drink.

"Do you realize the precarious situation that Hogwarts is in, Professor? We cannot open our doors if we do not have teachers to fill all the positions."

"And why should that concern me?" he asked sitting down on a faded armchair. He had not offered her a seat and was amused by the fact that she was forced to continue standing. "In case you never noticed, Miss Granger, I hate children. I could care less if the children of Britain's wizards and witches receive their education at Hogwarts or elsewhere."

"And what do you think Professor Dumbledore would have thought of this?" she asked hoping he still had his one soft spot for the old Headmaster.

Inwardly Severus cringed. Of anything she could say, he had hoped that she would not have had the nerve to mention Albus.

"And why would I care what that foolish old man would have thought?" he lashed out at her. "Dumbledore is dead, Miss Granger. I would have thought you would have noticed by now."

Hermione tried in vain to cover the shock that his words had given her. She had never met a more cold-hearted person in her life. She quickly mulled over her options in her mind as to how best to convince him to return. She decided that perhaps the only way to get him to respond would be to treat him the same way he was treating her. With careful deliberation she looked around the room, plastering a sneer on her face as she did.

"So this is how you're living now is it Snape?" she asked purposefully dropping the title of Professor. He wasn't a professor now anyway, she reasoned.

"What do you mean by that?" he snarled at her. Hermione continued to look disdainfully at the shabby room.

"Well, considering that you used to be Head of Slytherin, I would have thought you would have objected to living in poverty. After all, where are the house-elves to do the cleaning?" She looked up at him and it appeared that her words had found their mark. His pale face had colored slightly and his eyes were noticeably darker.

"I don't believe, Granger, that it is any of your concern how I choose to live."

"Oh, this is a choice then?" she asked innocently. "I was under the impression you were short on funds, which is, of course, the main reason why I am here. Professor McGonagall has authorized me to offer you this as a salary if you agree to return." She handed him the piece of parchment she had been carrying in her robes.

Severus took the parchment from her and noticed with some satisfaction that for all her bravado, her hand was trembling slightly. He looked down at it and tried to conceal his reaction. This was considerably more than he had been expecting to be offered. True, he had no desire to teach again, but he could not deny that he was quickly running out of money. Unlike many Slytherins, his family had had no great wealth and although he had received some compensation from the Ministry for his services to the Order, it was not enough to last a lifetime; even as short a lifetime as he hoped he would have.

"So, Minerva has resorted to buying me off, has she?" he asked looking up at Hermione.

"I believe she thought there might be need for some additional persuasion," Hermione said honestly.

"If I agree to do this, I want it understood that it will only be for one year. One year and then I don't give a bloody damn what needs to be done to keep the doors open. I am gone." He paused for a moment, thinking. "And I suppose she wants me to be Head of Slytherin again as well?"

"There is no one else."

"That, Miss Granger, is apparent." He walked over to a small writing desk and pulled out a roll of parchment and a quill. Hermione stood still barely breathing while he quickly wrote and then sealed a letter, addressing it to the Headmistress. He then walked over and handed it to her.

"Tell her that I will be arriving the week before the start of term. I expect everything in my rooms will be in order."

Hermione nodded and as she walked over to the fireplace he called after her. "And be sure to let her know that I am rather disappointed with the quality of teachers they have been hiring the last several years. No wonder she is so desperate for my return."

Hermione looked back at him in shock. "I will do that, Professor, but may I suggest you sober up before returning to Hogwarts? Professor McGonagall may frown upon having a drunk teaching the students."

He just sneered and turned away. Clearly she had been dismissed. She turned back to the fireplace, threw in a handful of floo powder from a small dish on the mantle and in a dull, exhausted voice said, "Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry".

As soon as she was gone, Severus sank back down into the armchair feeling exhausted. He had never planned to return to the school and wondered now what had possessed him to do it. He wasn't that desperate for money. Surely there were other options.

"What would Professor Dumbledore have thought," he heard her voice echo in his head.

"Damn you Dumbledore," he said out loud and finished off the bottle of fire whisky.