A/N: This story was originally published on AO3 as part of Hearts & Cauldrons's 2022 Spooktober

Colin Creevey had made a mistake when he died. Not that the dying part had been entirely his choice, but when he'd tried to anchor himself to someone rather than something, he accidentally latched himself onto the wrong person. It had all happened so fast and when he opened his ghostly eyes that night and finally could see who he was hovering next to, he swore so loudly that he woke her up.

'What's wrong?' Hermione sat up straight in alarm, eyes wide in fright. Not because there was a ghost beside her but because she had just fought in a damned war and was easily (pardon the pun) spooked.

Her eyes adjusted to the gloom as her head swivelled round until she saw the shimmering form by her bedside.

'Colin?' she asked in confusion.

'Er…hi, Hermione! Fancy meeting you here this time of night.' He was fidgeting and looked uncomfortable. His false cheerfulness made her equally suspicious.

"Colin, what are you doing here? Do you need something?" She felt rather silly asking a ghost if he needed something, but she'd read an essay while they were researching the Grey Lady about new ghosts being confused and needing to keep to their own routines for a while until they'd adjusted to their spectral state.

"No, it's fine. I mean, of course I'm not fine, since I'm a ghost and I didn't even get to finish school. Worse, I didn't get to develop that last roll of film that would have really been…oh wait, never mind, no, no, it hardly matters now anyway. I was going to be a bloody good photographer, Hermione, and now what am I going to do?"

The witch smoothed the bedspread lying across her lap. 'Well, Colin, I suppose…I guess what you could do is, you know, keep Nick company in the tower. He's been dying for new friends. Oh, damn, that was really insensitive of me to say. I'm really sorry, Colin, but it's the middle of the night and I sort of had a long day, so if you don't mind…'

He stared back at her.

'I don't sleep well when someone is watching me.'

'Should I just…close my eyes then?' he asked, clearly at a loss as to what to do.

'Wait, what do you mean?' If before she was suspicious, now she was alarmed.

'I, uh, I can't leave, Hermione.'

'What do you mean you can't leave?' she hissed.

'I seem to be attached to you rather than the castle.'

Hermione flopped back against her pillow in defeat. 'Oh. Of course you are. Then, can you just turn your back? Thanks.' She rolled over, facing the other direction and tried her best to pretend that he wasn't there. Exhaustion soon overtook her and she slept in spite of Colin's presence.

It was difficult for Hermione having a ghost around her all the time, though she slowly grew used to it. Well, aside from when he would sometimes antagonise her while she was having a bath, which was not as funny as he thought it was. And if it was undesirable for her, worse was that others were even less tolerant than she. She stayed the summer at Grimmauld Place with Harry, which her friend bore as well as he could (after all, they were both shocked that she was the one being haunted rather than he) but Ron couldn't stand it, and refused to get too close to her, emotionally as well as physically, while Colin bloody Creevey was constantly (literally) hovering nearby. After a few rows about it, Hermione called it quits on their newfound relationship and began making a new plan for her life. Could she sit her NEWTs without taking another year of school? Would a double mastery be possible? The answer for Hermione was, apparently, an unequivocal yes.

Colin was required to not hover too closely during her testing (really, did they think Hermione would cheat?), but she got all O's anyway. When she returned to Hogwarts that September, she had initially planned on doing her double mastery in Transfiguration and Charms, but Flitwick fell gravely ill due to side effects of a curse he had been hit with during the battle at the school. Another teacher was called in to replace him temporarily, but it also meant that Hermione wasn't able to do her Mastery work in Charms. Wizarding law required that Mastery studies be done under someone with at least ten years of teaching experience at Hogwarts. She found the rule archaic, but she threw herself fully into her Transfiguration work, and by December was teaching the First Year classes, truly a load off for the now-Headmistress. She had settled in for Christmas dinner when the doors to the Great Hall opened and in shuffled a man she never thought to see again: Severus Snape. He spoke only to Minerva, who showed no surprise at his appearance, and he seemed content to sit beside her at the table, eating and ignoring absolutely everyone else. When Hermione tried to wish him a happy Christmas at the end of the meal, he fixed his dark eyes on her and sneered.

'Collecting ghosts for your fan club now, Miss Granger?'

Her mouth clamped shut for a moment while she sought a suitable, yet minimally rude, response. She settled on, 'You can have him if you'd like,' before she turned on her heel and stalked away, Colin forced to follow her. What she didn't see was the thoughtful expression that crossed Snape's face after she left.

Snape became a fixture around the school once more, lurking in corridors and stalking about the grounds, even though he was officially on leave until the following school year. Hermione decided to respectfully do her best to avoid him in spite of the myriad of questions she wished to put to him. Mercifully, teaching and course work kept her busy and soon the Easter hols were upon her with papers to grade and her own papers to write. She set up camp in the library since she didn't have any office space of her own — working in her room was out of the question unless she wanted Colin talking to her constantly. At least in the library even he had to be quiet.

'I thought I might find you here,' Snape announced from behind her, breaking her concentration and causing her to accidentally smear the ink on her parchment when she jumped.

His smirk deepened.

'Professor Snape,' she answered politely, masking her irritation as she turned to face him.

He might have been as abrupt and aloof as ever, but he was still an authority figure at the school. And a war hero, though he vehemently refused any such terms to be applied to him.

He cast a silencing spell which seemed to prevent Colin from eavesdropping, which only made her all the more curious. 'I might have found a solution to your spectral problem,' he offered.

Suddenly, his unwelcome interruption was far more intriguing. 'I'm listening, sir.'

'It's a problem of tethers.'

She nodded. 'I figured as much.'

'Oh course you did,' he sneered. 'But have you bothered seeking a solution? No, you have not.'

Nearly dying had done nothing for his personality, she decided. If anything, it had perhaps made it worse.

'I've been a little busy,' she said, gritting her teeth.

'Well, I haven't been permitted to do much at all, so I looked into it for you.'

'And why would you do such a thing, Professor? Idle curiosity? Or did the Headmistress put you up to it?'

'She…might have suggested it,' he conceded.

Hermione pursed her lips to prevent something rude from spilling out. Of course that's the only reason he would do anything remotely helpful for her. Or for anyone else for that matter. 'Right. Professor, please tell me about your solution then.'

'It's rather complicated, but that's never seemed to bother you before.'

Was he being condescending or simply stalling? She couldn't make heads or tails of his behaviour. Her eyebrows were raised as she waited for him to continue. Had he been a peer, she would have scolded him for wasting her time.

'There's a potion we'll need to brew. You'll have to take it on the next solstice.'

'Why then?'

'Because while it's not true that the sun actually does any harm to ghosts, it does make their tethers less powerful. And the summer solstice happens to be the longest day.'

'And it will take more than two months to brew the potion?'

'Yes. Do you think you'll be up to the task? Or are you too busy being Minerva's pet?'

She bristled at the remark and decided that if he was going to continually be rude, she could at least dispense with the niceties. 'You can't do it yourself?'

'I might have found the solution to this, Granger, but I'm not going to do all the work for you like some sort of errand boy.'

The mental picture that the remark produced caused a chuckle to bubble up from her chest in spite of the irritable man before her. 'Fine. Where will we be brewing this potion?'

'In my quarters. You don't want that imbecile Slughorn anywhere near it.'

Snape was probably right, if for no other reason than the fact that the other man would ask questions and want to meddle. Hermione didn't despise him the way Snape did, but there was a reason why she didn't pursue a mastery in Potions. And there was something intriguing about the idea of working with Snape on a project.

'Alright. Tell me where and when and I'll make an effort to be there.'

'You'll do more than make an effort if you want to be rid of Creevey. Unless you enjoy the prospect of having an adolescent boy following you around for the rest of your life.'

She shuddered at the thought. 'I'd rather not, of course.'

'Tonight, then. 10pm at the painting of the wheat fields. I'll meet you there.'

She nodded. And then he stalked away, cloak billowing out as ever. Some things might have changed around Hogwarts, but at least that had not. And suddenly, she was glad.

'What was that about?' Colin started the moment he knew Hermione could hear him again. 'You know that Professor Snape isn't really evil, yeah? But he's still a right git. I can say that now that I'm dead. SNAPE IS A FECKING GIT!' Colin shouted.

Madame Pince came around the corner at that moment and managed to silence Colin with the iciest glare that Hermione had ever seen. She had never been more grateful to the librarian than at that moment.

Ten o'clock couldn't come soon enough. At 9:40, she began the trek down from her private room at the base of Gryffindor tower to the painting that she knew was near the dungeons. She used to pass it every time she went to Potions class. Sure enough, at precisely ten, Snape arrived and tapped a brick in the wall with his wand. A hidden door appeared and he ushered her through, slamming it shut behind him and forcing Colin to go through the wall rather than courteously allowing him to enter like the living.

Clearly they were in Snape's apartments, simply furnished, at least what she could see of them. But no tour was given and she was ushered immediately to another door through which was a private potions lab. So this was where he did all his brewing, she realised. Everything there was in pristine condition, neatly labelled and on a shelf or stocked in a cupboard. There was enough room for two cauldrons and one was already in use. She had the good sense not to ask what he was brewing. She could tell at a glance anyway that it was blood replenisher potion. A battered old book was on the table, open to a page that she assumed was for the task at hand. The page was covered with various scrawled notes.

'There's a list here,' he said pointing to a spot on page. 'Begin gathering your ingredients and preparing them as instructed. I'll be here, but I trust that I don't need to look over your shoulder while you follow simple directions.'

'Are the hand-written instructions yours, Professor, or someone else's? I couldn't help but notice that when someone used your old book, your methods were different and more efficient.'

This seemed to have a mollifying effect on him and his expression softened slightly. 'They are purely mine,' he informed her.

She nodded and carefully read through the list before she began collecting the necessary ingredients. Out of the corner of her eye, she noted that Snape was busy as well. He'd selected a cauldron for her and set it in place before laying out the tools on the workstation that she would need. She was meticulous as well, lining up her ingredients in the order she would need to prepare them, and then Hermione immediately set to work. No one spoke, though Colin hovered nearby, watching with interest. No doubt, he wished he still had a camera for the occasion, so bizarre a moment was it.

Hermione was absorbed in her task and was in the middle of crushing a scarab with the blade of a knife when Colin startled her by peering too closely over her shoulder, brushing her with a sudden coldness. She jumped in surprise and nicked a finger on the blade. A curse fell from her lips and Snape turned, fixing his wilting glare on them both.

'Let me see your finger, Miss Granger. I won't have you contaminating the potion because of your carelessness.'

'If Colin wouldn't have touched me, I wouldn't have cut myself,' she replied defensively.

'I'm uninterested in your excuses. Either control your ghost or stop wasting my time and materials.'

Hermione huffed and turned back towards her work, while Professor Snape summoned a sort of first aid kit from across the room. She noticed that Colin had immediately fled as far away as he could manage while still staying in the room and wondered if some unvoiced exchange had happened between him and their former teacher.

'Give me your hand, Miss Granger' Snape ordered, drawing her attention back to him.

She tentatively held out her hand, observant as he took it in his own and examined the cut. She had noticed that it was a clean slice and not too deep, but her mind was now elsewhere. She had never thought much about Professor Snape's hands aside from when she had attempted to imitate some gesture of his, but he had also never touched her before. His hand, the one touching her, was calloused in certain places and pleasantly warm. It was as though she had discovered for the first time, or considered it at least, that Professor Snape was merely human, with flaws and warmth and motivations she could hardly fathom. Gone was the image of some powerful being full of bitterness and wrath that ruled over his domain with an iron fist. In its place, was simply a man that, while extraordinary and intelligent, had to go through the same motions of life as the rest. Had to make the same sorts of choices. Had the same needs. Just a man.

An unexpected feeling swooped through her that was not unlike the sensation of clinging to a dragon when it took to its wings. This sudden consideration of him made her then give a quiet gasp, which gave Snape pause and his obsidian eyes looked into hers. There was a vulnerability in his gaze that she attempted to memorise, as she would likely never see it again. For her part, she was grateful enough that he didn't try to read her mind in the moment. Who knew what thoughts he could have happened upon? She blinked and the moment had passed, his attention once more on her hand.

He applied a few drops of dittany and a clean bandage to her finger. 'Now, back to work, Miss Granger,' he said quietly. There was no scolding in his tone, no sense that he was irritated or angry. It was almost as jarring as the way he'd looked at her only moments ago.

She nodded in reply and turned back to the task before her. Silence once more reigned, apart from the noise of chopping, slicing, and grinding various ingredients, and the crackle of the fire under the cauldrons. Colin seemed content to continue watching from several feet away, in the direction opposite Professor Snape. At least this way she could work in peace, following each scrawled step to the letter, casually observing where it varied in practice to what was printed on the page. She had at least learned one lesson from watching Harry years before: Snape's notes would invariably be better than any textbook. When she reached the end of the preparations, she turned to the wizard.

'What shall I do next, Professor?'

He looked over her workstation and nodded in what she took to be silent approval, which was the highest praise she could ever expect of the man. 'Read through the entire brewing process and then you may begin.' He turned his penetrating stare on Colin. 'Mr Creevey. This situation is entirely your fault, so you will need to pay attention. Step 8 will require a bit of personal effort on your part.'

Hermione turned her own attention back to the page and scanned down until she reached that section. She read aloud, 'Step number 8, the spirit in question must verbally renounce his or her attachment to the current tether while something of the tether is added to the mixture.' She paused. 'What does that mean, something of the tether?'

'What do you think it means?' Snape's eyes glinted, which made Hermione concerned.

'Hair or saliva or…or blood,' she answered.

'Hair will do,' he said.

Hermione visibly relaxed.

'What if I don't want to do it?' Colin asked suddenly, his tone defiant. He had drifted behind Hermione, out of her line of sight.

The question caught the witch off guard and she spun round to face her ghostly companion. 'You haven't a choice, Colin. I won't have you following me around all my life.'

'I could refuse to say it.'

'Why would you do such a thing?' Her brows were furrowed in frustration.

'Because I've…I've sort of gotten used to you,' the youth confessed.

'Used to me? That's hardly worth haunting someone over.'

His expression seemed to then be one of embarrassment and perhaps if he hadn't been dead, he would have blushed. 'What I mean is, well, I sort of fancy you, Hermione.'

Hermione was kind enough not to roll her eyes, however unmoved she was by this new revelation. 'I'm not going to date a ghost, Colin. That's just…not going to work.'

Professor Snape glowered at the pair of them. 'When the two of you have quite finished, can we get on with this? I'd like to finish brewing before midnight.'

Hermione's cheeks did grow pink and she went back to work. Steps one, two, three…her progress was slow and methodical, just as the professor had trained her to do all those years. She did all in silence and with great concentration. When it came to step eight, she pulled out a strand of hair with a grimace and then glared at Colin.

'Your turn, Creevey.'

The ghost sighed and repeated the oath as she dropped the strand in. Two stirs counter-clockwise, one clockwise, and then the fire was extinguished.

'It should be cool enough in five minutes,' their professor announced as he produced a ladle and scooped out the potion, pouring it into a small glass.

The three of them said nothing: Hermione because she was a mess of nerves, Colin because he was pouting, and Professor Snape likely because he had nothing he wished to say. A timer went off five minutes later and he passed Hermione the glass. The concoction smelled horrific, but no worse than polyjuice. She pinched her nose, opened her mouth, and drank it down. It tasted as incredibly foul as she'd suspected, but the moment she swallowed it, she could feel Colin's detachment from her. Or rather, his absence. It was incredibly relieving.

'It worked!' she squeaked with joy.

'Mr Creevey, I suggest you find a new place to haunt,' announced Snape. Colin didn't wait for a second remark to be levelled at him and passed directly through the wall. Snape turned his attention to his former student. 'I imagine you'll sleep better tonight without a ghost hovering around you.'

'I certainly hope so.'

'Would you care for a tisane before going to your room?'

Hermione tried her best not to appear shocked at the question. Professor Snape never offered anyone so much as a piece of black licorice or stale onion crisp. 'That would be lovely.'

'Follow me, then,' he said, taking long strides towards the door that would lead back to his rooms. He gestured for her to take a seat at his small table and then lazily waved a finger in the direction of a tea kettle that she hadn't noticed earlier, nor the hob it was sitting on. Within minutes, a homemade camomile was steeping. He pulled out two simple mugs and sat one before her and took a seat in the other chair.

'Thank you for your help, Professor,' she gushed, in spite of knowing full well that it would make him uncomfortable.

'Your situation, as I had said before, was brought to my attention,' was all he said in return, as if it explained everything.

'Colin was mildly annoying alive. As a ghost, infinitely more so.'

'Yes, well, now he's free to torment the masses instead of just you.'

She tittered. 'Yes, well, I'm glad you're back,' she said awkwardly, changing the subject. 'I didn't know what had happened to you and no one would say.'

'Thank Merlin for friends who save me from inquisitive students.'

She made a wry face. 'It's only because we were concerned, Professor.'

He shrugged a shoulder and she knew that once again the discussion had turned too personal for his liking. Thankfully, the tisane was ready cool enough now that she could drink instead of attempting small talk. She had never sat quietly at a table with the strange man before that evening and found that it wasn't altogether disagreeable. She finished over half of her camomile before she dared say anything else.

'Professor Snape, are the rumours true?'

'Which rumours, Miss Granger? Be precise.'

'That you are returning to teach in September.'

'It would appear so.'

'Would you…' She paused and licked her lip nervously. 'Would you consider taking me on as an apprentice?'

He stared at her, hard. 'You're already doing a mastery with Minerva. Is that not enough for you?'

She shook her head. 'I was set to do a double with Charms and Transfiguration, but then I had to settle with simply doing Transfiguration.'

'Potions as a second choice, then?'

'I'd simply refused to consider it with Professor Slughorn. But if you're returning to the position…'

'I will think on it. You show promise.'

That made two compliments this evening. She wondered if he was feeling well. All the same, on the inside, Hermione whooped for joy. On the outside, she remained as calm as possible. 'Thank you, Professor,' she said demurely.

'I can see you've already considered my answer a "yes".' He punctuated this with a snicker.

'Of course, not, Professor, I wouldn't dare!'

'Oh, you would. You forget that I know you well enough, Miss Granger, even if you were blessedly not in my House.' He exhaled loudly and Hermione braced herself for his ire. Instead he simply said, sounding resigned, 'Fine, I will take you on as an apprentice the next school year. I expect you to work hard, though. If you are lazy, I will consider that as annulling your apprenticeship. This won't like a regular year of school. I don't have to keep you on out of fear of what the Headmistress might say.'

Hermione's eyebrows shot up and she opened her mouth, but he continued.

'Save your breath, Miss Granger. I was merely wanting to be clear. I will have our contract ready for September. Is there anything that you need?'

She closed and opened her mouth a few times as she digested his words.

'And do stop gawping like that, you look like a fish.'

Her jaw clicked shut. She weighed her words carefully before speaking.

'Thank you, Professor. I will endeavour to do my best. I should probably get back to my rooms. I do appreciate your help with Colin. He truly was dreadful.' She rose to her feet and gave him a small smile.

'Should you need further assistance from me, you know where to find me now.'

She nodded and wished him a goodnight before bustling out of the room. Once the door closed behind her, she hurried the rest of the way to her room without stopping, except when she was required to wait for a staircase. As she got ready for bed, she wondered about all that had just happened. Was Professor Snape being nice? It boggled the mind.

That night, she slept deeply, undisturbed by hovering ghosts or feelings of discouragement. Instead, she had a dream about Professor Snape and his wonderful hands, the sort of which left her blushing the next day. Perhaps studying with him would not be as trying as she once thought it might be.

Though, she thought to herself, it would be most helpful if he never uses legillimency on me. I must be sure to never give him cause.

fin.

A/N: Hope you enjoyed this fun little story! x