A/N- Hello all! Sorry this update has taken a little longer than usual, I've had a crazy week. Work, hubby, kids, illness, uni and Jeff Goldblum are all to blame. The good news is the next few updates should be a little quicker as I am on holiday from work, woohoo! Oh Alan Rickman was on The View on the 28th Feb- the interview is on youtube for those who love Alan as much as I do.

The title of this story is a line from the song 'Poison and Wine' by The Civil Wars- Full credit to them, I do not make any money from this etc.

(The Civil Wars are immense btw and listening to them while reading/writing sexual tension is a must!)

THANK YOU THANK YOU THANK YOU TO MY WONDERFUL BETAS WORRYWART AND GOLDIECHIK WHO ARE NOT ONLY WONDERFULLY EFFICIENT BUT FANTASTICALLY ENTERTAINING PEOPLE WHO MAKE ME LAUGH.

THANK YOU! YES YOU! FOR YOUR WONDERFUL REVIEW! X WHAT'S THAT? YOU DIDN'T REVIEW? WELL WHY NOT DO IT THIS TIME *WINK WINK*

This is my first attempt at fanfiction ever…this is my first attempt at creative writing in about 8 years too. So please be gentle.

NOT FOR YOUNG UNS'- THIS STORY WILL CONTAIN GRAPHIC SEXUAL CONTENT (THE NICE KIND NOT THE ICK KIND)

DISCLAIMER- I DO NOT OWN ANY OF HARRY POTTER…NOT HIS TOE, HIS LEFT EAR, NADA. I ALSO DO NOT OWN SNAPE OR ALAN RICKMAN DESPITE THAT BEING MY ULTIMATE GOAL IN LIFE. I MAKE NO MONEY FROM THIS, IT IS PURELY FOR MY OWN (AND HOPEFULLY SOME OTHER PEOPLE'S ENTERTAINMENT. JKR IS THE GOD OF THE POTTERVERSE AND I AM A HUMBLE FAN HAVING A BIT OF FUN.

Rating= M (lovely inappropriate lemons and swear words) NO SMUT OR LEMONS IN THIS CHAPTER *SADNESS* IT'S COMING...EVENTUALLY.

X~X

It had been twenty-four hours since Hermione had made the rather rash decision to provide Professor Snape with breakfast. Luckily she had managed to avoid him, until now. As she made her way down the stairs for breakfast she resigned herself to the fact that if he didn't publicly humiliate her in the Great Hall during her morning meal he would certainly catch up with her during the first class of the day, potions. What the hell was I thinking? Leaving toast for Professor Snape and a cheeky note? Who does that? I am supposed to be the brains of the 'Golden Trio', I am supposed to be the 'brightest witch of my age', I am worthy of neither accolade for I, Hermione Granger, am an idiot. As Hermione approached the doors of the Great Hall she was undecided as to whether or not Professor Snape's lack of reaction thus far was a good thing. Perhaps he was ok with it, perhaps he enjoyed the toast and the banter and that is why he has yet to confront me? Or, perhaps, he is biding his time, luring me into a false sense of security and then, when I least expect it he will strike. Hermione groaned as she considered how utterly ridiculous her first theory sounded and how entirely plausible her second theory was. Time to face the music, she thought, oh well it's a miracle I've made it this far.

X~X

Flashback- Yesterday

After overseeing the house-elves preparation of the toast and ensuring they would deliver it, she had made her way to double Charms. The rest of the day, which she could not help but refer to as Porridge-gate, had been spent sneaking around the school grounds with sweating palms hoping to avoid a confrontation for as long as possible. Lunch had been a quick sandwich grabbed from the kitchens that Hermione had eaten as she walked around the lake. When she had entered the hall for dinner, Professors Snape and McGonagall had both been absent from the head table. Upon realising this, Hermione had decided to eat as quickly as humanly possible and then leave before it was too late. Her heart had thumped in her chest throughout dinner that she had eaten in a manner which would have made Ron truly proud.

"You okay there Hermione?" Dean Thomas had asked with a raised eyebrow. Dean had also returned to Hogwarts due to his last year consisting of a stay with the Malfoy family in their wonderful dungeon facilities after spending the beginning of the school year on the run.

"Yesh…" she began and then stopped in horror covering her disgustingly full mouth. She blushed spectacularly as she finished chewing her dinner.

"You seem a bit out of sorts, is everything ok?" Dean asked awkwardly whilst rubbing the back of his neck.

Hermione and Dean had never been particularly good friends before their post-war return to Hogwarts. Hermione had always respected him and was fond of the boy due to the loyal friendship he had provided Harry and Ron with throughout the years. She had also felt the very brief stirrings of a crush during their 5th year when he had defended Remus and praised his teaching upon hearing Umbridge refer to the former professor as a 'dangerous half-breed'. It never amounted to anything and fizzled out as quickly as it had ignited. Hermione now recognized it for what it was, his passionate defence had been a major turn on. As proved by her sudden kiss with Ron after he showed concern for the house-elves, there was nothing hotter to her than a man standing up for those less fortunate or for misunderstood creatures. They seemed to gravitate towards each other upon returning to Hogwarts. They understood each other; they had both experienced being exiled from Hogwarts due to their blood status, they had both been captured by Snatchers, they had shared the horror of Malfoy Manor and what was possibly their strongest bond of all was that Dean seemed to miss Seamus as much as she missed Ron and Harry.

"I'm fine Dean…I just," she looked over her shoulder anxiously before leaning in and whispering, "I might have angered Professor Snape," she finished solemnly.

"Oh…that's…not good." Dean said trying not to smile.

"Exactly," Hermione stated before covering her face with both hands, "Oh gods what have I done?"

"What did you do?" Dean asked in cautiously.

"I don't even know where to start; I don't know why I did it. I was rude and sarcastic…but the worst part is that I teased him." She grimaced and then concealed her face with her pale and clammy hands.

"To his face? " Dean asked in astonishment.

"Partly…I was rude and sarcastic to his face but I made fun of him in a note," Hermione confessed with a groan.

"Maybe he hasn't read the note?" Dean offered hopefully, "Where did you leave it, maybe we can get it back?" he suggested kindly whilst walking round to Hermione, grabbing her hand and pulling her to her feet.

"Onhisdesk," Hermione whispered inaudibly. Dean merely looked at her questioningly.

"On his desk…" she began as Dean looked at her in shock.

"I'm screwed aren't I?" she asked Dean, her wide eyes imploring him to disagree with her.

Dean Thomas swung his arm round her shoulder and picked up her bag. I thought Ron and Harry were the bad influences but Granger manages to get into a whole world of trouble, and the boys aren't even in the country, he thought to himself. "Yes Granger, you are well and truly screwed. Now let's get back to Gryffindor tower before Snape catches up to you," he said with a laugh.

"Professor Snape," she corrected automatically as they made their way out the hall.

"You're the one who left a cheeky note on his desk, and you're telling me off for calling him Snape?" Dean asked in shock as he studied his friend.

"Yes I am," she began, raising her chin. "At least my note was addressed to Professor Snape," she answered seriously placing a great deal of emphasis on the word professor.

Dean looked at her and tried to keep a straight face but found it an impossible mission. As he burst out laughing, Hermione's lip quirked into what could be considered a smile. "Come on Granger, let's get you in hiding," he laughed as he dragged her in the direction of Gryffindor tower.

End of Flashback

X~X

Hermione walked in to the Great Hall for breakfast confidently. She marched straight over to the Gryffindor table, sat down and started buttering her toast without looking at the head table once. So far so good, she thought optimistically. Dean was sitting opposite her and was sneaking glances at Professor Snape from behind his copy of The Daily Prophet.

"Good Morning. Anything interesting in the paper today?" She asked politely and with a great deal more composure than she actually possessed. She looked at Dean with a forced smile which fell instantly upon observing which direction his eyes were flicking back and forth to.

"Not much interesting in here," he began nonchalantly as he gestured to his newspaper. "But Professor Snape looks particularly sinister this morning. If you don't make it out of Potions alive I just want you to know that I have come to value our friendship." Dean finished solemnly as he wiped an imaginary tear from under his eye.

"Oh gods, how bad is it?" Hermione bit her lip and stared at Dean, waiting for his response.

"See for yourself; he's fixated on stabbing his eggs to death right now," Dean gestured with a surreptitious point in the Professor's direction.

Hermione attempted to casually peer over her shoulder, flicking her golden brown curls as she turned. Something in her actions must have alerted Professor Snape to her presence for as soon as she laid eyes on him his head snapped up from his plate and he looked directly at her. She met his dark eyes accidentally and found herself unable to look away. He looked at her, his frown deepening into a scowl, for what must have been merely seconds but felt like an hour, before curling his lip in a pronounced sneer. Hermione instantly turned back to her plate and attempted to eat her previously delicious toast that now tasted like cardboard. She looked up at Dean and noticed he was watching her sympathetically.

"You're not screwed Granger. You're totally fucked." he said with a grimace.

X~X

After surviving breakfast relatively unscathed, Hermione made her way to the dungeons slowly. Not slow enough to result in her being late for class but slow enough to mean she would have a class full of witnesses. You can do this Hermione. You withstood torture at the hands of Bellatrix Lefreakingstrange. This is merely Advanced Potions, she thought as she entered the classroom. She scanned the classroom perimeter and heaved a sigh of relief as she realised she had time to get to her seat and begin studiously reading her textbook before the Professor arrived. Thank Merlin, he's not here yet. Now the best way to deal with this situation is to…

"Miss Granger, do you plan on taking a seat anytime soon or would you perhaps prefer to stand for the entirety of today's lesson?" drawled the seemingly disembodied voice of Professor Snape.

Where the hell did that come from? She whipped her head round, desperately seeking out his presence. When she failed to locate the source of the silky voice, she practically ran to her seat.

"Excellent," Professor Snape purred as he emerged from his store cupboard. "Now we have Miss Granger poised in her seat, ready to raise her hand and generally make a nuisance of herself, we may begin," he finished as he strode determinedly to the front of the classroom.

"Today we shall be brewing the 'Emovere Potion'. You should all have completed the assigned reading and therefore will be able to astound me with your knowledge," he drawled sarcastically.

He began pacing back and forth along the front of the classroom with his hands clasped elegantly behind his back. "Who can tell me what the effect of the 'Emovere Potion' is?"

Hermione had decided on her way to class that the best course of action would be to continue to behave in the same manner as usual. Not answering questions would only result in snide comments being thrown her way. If she knew the answer, he would know she knew the answer; to not raise her hand would only invoke his wrath. As she glanced around the classroom she noticed every student had raised their hand. He'll still pick me, she thought bitterly as she tentatively raised her hand.

"Mr. Widdick?"

Huh…I could have sworn he would have picked me, mocked me and chastised me for giving a textbook answer, Hermione thought to herself. That has always irritated me, would he prefer the wrong answer or a less eloquent one? Why give out the bloody textbooks if the answers are not satisfactory? If numerous experts and publishers deem an answer as the definitive version why would he not want to hear that from his students?

"Anyone who consumes the 'Emovere Potion' will be able to read the emotions of those around them," the studious Ravenclaw answered.

Textbook answer, Hermione thought with a snort.

"Correct, Mr. Widdick. What are possible benefits and/or side effects of this potion?"

Hermione raised her hand again, along with the rest of her classmates.

"Miss Heatherill?" Professor Snape inclined his head towards the scheming Slytherin.

"The benefits are obvious, being able to feel the emotions of those around you allows you to manipulate them," she began as she grinned deviously, "and a possible side effect is being unable to keep your own emotions private. If the dosage is incorrect the consumer of the potion may voice any emotions they are experiencing.

Hermione snorted and rolled her eyes. Trust that conniving bitch to pay attention to the manipulation aspect and leave out pretty much everything else. Hermione had always been wary of Elenor Heatherill, she had witnessed enough of her behaviour to know she was not to be trusted. It wasn't until she began taking classes with the girl, who had previously been in the class below, however, that she began to truly dislike her. Ginny felt the same way; they had been hexing one another since they were forced to sit together in first year Transfiguration.

"It seems Miss Granger finds your answer unsatisfactory Miss Heatherill? Do you have anything to add or shall we give Miss Granger the opportunity to astonish us with her knowledge?" Professor Snape queried.

And there it is…the opportunity to secure his revenge.

Hermione cautiously raised her head and made eye contact with Elenor. Gods that girl just radiates maliciousness, Hermione thought as she forced herself not to flinch under the force of her scowl.

"Let's hear Granger out Sir," she smiled coyly at the Professor. He seemed to flinch and for a moment, Hermione thought he was going to sneer at Elenor.

"How gracious of you Miss Heatherill," Professor Snape conceded before turning his attention to Hermione. She was staring at the younger girl with a look of disdain affixed to her flushed face.

"Miss Granger? If you would be so kind?" Professor Snape drawled as he gestured for her to provide her interpretation of the benefits and side effects of the potion, with the strangest expression on his face. It resembled a smirk but he was trying to contain it, his eyes, which were usually full of hatred were almost…twinkling.

Holy fuck, is Professor Snape smiling? Which leads me to my next question, why is he so amused?

"The Emovere Potion allows the imbiber to read the emotions people around them are experiencing. Benefits of this would be, being able to manipulate others to ones' own gain," she began, her distaste evident as she met Elenor's glare. "Being able to empathise with others, being able to track the intentions and feelings of others from one moment to the next, being able to forge a connection or bond with another and being able to read people's reactions would allow one to understand the effect and impact their words and actions have." She drew breath before squaring her shoulders and continuing, "The aforementioned benefits could allow for successful personal and professional communication as well as aiding the imbiber in self-improvement through analysing the effects their actions have."

Professor Snape eyed her warily. Her usual answer would have been the standard textbook answer and nothing more. The answer she had just given provided additional comment on how this could be used in personal and professional relationships, which although fairly evident, was not supplied by the assigned textbook. The comment on self-improvement was not something Professor Snape had ever heard anybody else credit this potion with. Finally, Granger is considering how her lessons can be used in practice rather than theory alone, Professor Snape thought.

"Quite right Miss Granger, and the side effects?" he asked genuinely whilst stopping directly in front of her desk and folding his arms across his chest.

What is going on, 'Quite right Miss Granger'? No snide comment, no insults is…is…he finally satisfied with an answer I have given? As Hermione ruminated on this, she failed to notice the passage of time. She was staring at her Professor in shock while the rest of the class began to shift uncomfortably at the awkward silence.

"Oh dear…has that burst of innovative thinking overwhelmed your mind?" He mocked cruelly.

Bastard. Just when I think he is being a fair and encouraging educator he reverts back to his snarky demeanour. Hermione snapped her mouth shut and refocused her attention on the class discussion. She sat up straight in her chair and lifted her chin defiantly. "Side effects vary depending on the dosage administered. If an appropriate dosage is ingested the majority of subjects will experience no side effects whatsoever, however some may find themselves experiencing a mild headache if they were dealing with strong emotions. If the dosage administered is too low, subjects may find the emotions more ambiguous and difficult to read. A sense of whether an emotion is positive or negative will be achievable but more specific emotions such as shame, grief, awe or admiration will not be coherent enough to be recognised. Finally, if the dosage administered is too high the subject may vocalize their own emotions as a result of the brain being overwhelmed by emotions and unable to accurately categorise and file said emotions. A more serious complication is the possibility of overwhelming emotions leading to long-term confusion and madness."

"Correct, Miss Granger," he purred silkily. "Although very similar to the answers given in the textbook," he finished in a bored tone.

And there it is… Hermione thought to herself. The rest of the lecture proceeded in a similar manner. Professor Snape would ask questions concerning the potion and the class would answer, sometimes these answers were deemed appropriate to which minimal praise would be offered but more often than not, they were found to be lacking by the Potions Professor. The practical component of the class began with the Professor telling them simply to begin and striding dramatically back to his desk, robes billowing. Hermione walked determinedly over to the store cupboard to gather the necessary ingredients, and upon returning to her work bench she laid out her ingredients neatly and breathed deeply.

You can do this. You know this potion like the back of your hand, you understand the theory and have practised the preparation of ingredients and stirring, Hermione motivated herself internally. She rolled up the sleeves of her cardigan and scraped her unruly curls back into a high ponytail. Then, she began. She focused on remaining calm and not rushing any aspect of the brewing process; she prepared everything methodically and efficiently.

Well, well, well, Severus thought with a smirk, looks like the little know-it-all has finally recognised her own limitations. He watched as her brow furrowed in concentration and she wiped her hair from her eyes using her forearm. She was referring back to the textbook occasionally but was not relying on it as heavily as normal. He watched as she worked herself through the steps of the potion with an air of calm he had never witnessed her possess. When her eyes darted up to the clock above his desk and she noticed the time she began to panic before closing her eyes briefly, taking a deep breath and returning to her work. Perhaps Miss Granger is finally worthy of a little encouragement.

It would be genuinely refreshing to be able to encourage his brightest student, despite her unfortunate house allegiance, however the fact that she was an infuriatingly cocky member of his least favourite band of misfits would make it almost painfully difficult to do. Just because I suddenly deem her a student worthy of my time and expertise does not mean I suddenly deem her a person worthy of my respect or compassion. Snide remarks would still have to be made, critical marking would still be applied but he would find it liberating not having to punish and humiliate her simply for caring about her studies. No, there would be ample opportunity to bring her down a peg or two in more constructive and professional ways.

He began to ponder the ways in which he could keep her in no doubt of his lingering distaste for her as he observed her at work. He watched as she worked diligently on her potion, although there was an evident improvement in her skills, she was still lacking the poise and finesse an accomplished brewer possessed. She always sliced thing too finely, pulverised instead of crushed, stirred too quickly. Yes, her intensity and anal retentiveness, which made her truly inspiring in research and brilliant in revision, did cause her practical work to suffer. She still performed well above average for any N.E.W.T level work, if he was being honest with himself, any other student would receive constant Exceeds Expectations or even Outstandings for the standard of work she produced. But she did not exceed his expectations because while he was loathed to admit it he had very high expectations of her indeed. She could do better and Snape knew it, however he was not going to tell her how. It seemed she had already realised the areas in which she could improve but if she wanted to truly excel in the art of potion brewing it would take a great deal more insightfulness and innovativeness...enough to at least seek his guidance and until then his expectations would never be exceeded.

Professor Snape looked up from the third year papers he had yet to start grading, glancing at the clock as he did so and realised he had spent far too long ruminating on Miss Granger's shortcomings.

"Bottle your mediocre attempts, clean up and await the bell," Snape drawled lazily, showing no sign that he had let the time get away from him.

"Quickly," he spoke leisurely in disgust as though it were his students faults that they were about to run out of time.

"Here you go, Sir," an annoyingly calm voice stated. Snape looked up and saw the smug Miss Granger standing in front him holding a vial that contained a visually perfect attempt at the Emovere potion. Typical over-eager little swot, only caring about the finished product not his directions.

"I don't believe I asked you to hand your work in Miss Granger," he queried in mock confusion. "Perhaps," he continued, "if you could learn to follow instructions I would not have to ask you to remain behind to clean up your station," he finished with a smirk as the bell rang.

Yes, we must make Miss Granger pay for her over familiarity yesterday, he thought maliciously. No doubt the inevitable will now happen, she will gesticulate wildly whilst droning on about human rights to a lunch break or perhaps attempt to appear nonplussed, when in reality she always makes it so obvious she is controlling her temper. Her cheeks flush, she chews her lip and you can practically feel the magic crackling off her as a result of unemployed hexes.

Of all the reactions Snape anticipated her smirk and following sarcasm were wholly unexpected.

" My apologies, Sir, I thought since I had bottled my potion and cleaned my station I would ensure it was safely submitted before moving on to helping my classmates clean up." She smiled brightly at him before continuing, "So that you could get away to lunch without having to wait even longer than usual for my classmates and I to leave."

The girl is bloody insufferable; typical hero complex Gryffindor wanting to help her peers and save the day, although the smirk and sarcasm were almost worthy of a Slytherin, he thought grudgingly. Only a Gryffindor, however, would be so characteristically obvious and cocky when attempting to outwit their opponent, he thought with an internal smirk and an outward sneer.

"How noble." he drawled

"Stop what you are doing at once," he said louder so everybody in the room could hear.

He looked the smug little madam in the eye and noticed her calm composure waiver as a flicker of uncertainty crossed her eyes.

"Miss Granger here has kindly offered to stay behind so we can all scurry off to lunch in a timely manner while she stays here and cleans up all this mess," he stated whilst never dropping eye contact with the 'Gryffindor Princess'.

"Everybody else is excused," he finished whilst emphasising every syllable.

A handful of Gryffindor and Hufflepuff students stayed where they were and looked ready to offer assistance as the rest of the class begin to leave.

"Now." Snape growled leaving no room for argument as he directed his withering gaze upon the imbeciles who thought his dismissal was optional.

As the final students left the classroom, Snape glided over to his desk and began warding it before moving on to the store cupboard. He could have sworn he felt the girl's eyes on him but when he turned to face her; she was busily scrubbing her neighbour's cauldron. She looked perfectly calm and, dare he say it, almost amused by the situation.

"Thank you ever so much Miss Granger," he simpered sweetly with a mock bow before heading for the door. He had to force his feet to keep moving when he heard her give a quiet chuckle before softly saying,

"Touché Professor Snape, touché."

X~X

Hermione settled down by the fire that evening and felt that overall the day had been a success. As she stretched her legs languorously along the comfiest couch the Gryffindor common room had to offer, she opened her book and began to read but found her concentration thwarted by distracting thoughts concerning Professor Snape. Was that it or was there more to come? She pondered this as she absentmindedly twirled her hair round her felt overwhelming relief that he didn't seem to be out for her blood but she could not bring herself to feel entirely certain that his thirst for revenge would be quenched by merely forcing her to clean a few cauldrons. Perhaps he is biding his time, planning on attacking when I least expect it. The man is an enigma; why am I even attempting to understand him, she contemplated with a groan. She felt a sudden restlessness and resigned herself to the fact that reading would be pointless at this time. Although she was under no obligation to do so this evening, she decided to patrol the corridors for an hour or so in the hope that she could walk off all this nervous energy she had buzzing within her.

As she entered her room, she noticed her current attire was probably not suitable for wandering the corridors. She had a pair of grey jogging bottoms on with some pink, fuzzy slipper socks with cute rainbow cartoons on them and a black strappy top. Oh what the hell, robes cover everything anyways, she thought as she shrugged her robes on over her comfy clothes. Her hair was tied up in a messy bun that she noted was probably not helping the sore head she had felt coming on for the last few hours. She pulled her wild hair loose from the bun and let it fall naturally over her shoulders. Much better, she thought as she felt some of the tight tension leave her head. As she left her bedroom she glanced in the mirror and wondered why her hair never looked this pretty when she tried to style it down. Oh well, just one annoying aspect of living with hair with a mind of its own, she thought wistfully as she made her way down the stairs and towards the portrait hole.

X~X

Snape strode determinedly down the corridors of Hogwarts with his black robes billowing. Patrolling the corridors was his least favourite part of the day because he found himself unable to ignore his overactive mind. He spent his time wandering the halls thinking about all that was wrong with his life and how it would always be this way. During the war he often found patrolling a calming experience, one that allowed him a momentary pause, a chance to breathe and plan his next moves. These days it only served to highlight the fact that he had nothing to think about, nothing to plan and certainly no need for a pause. He felt that at this point his whole life was on pause, waiting for a purpose, waiting for something…anything that could relieve him from the boredom and loneliness he felt every day of his life. Meddling fool or not, Albus had provided companionship, and Hogwarts without him was a lonely place.

As his boots clicked ruthlessly along the stone floor, Snape felt a jolt of excitement when he saw a figure turn the corner ahead. Finally some prey, he thought desperately as he increased his pace in an effort to catch up with the poor fool who was out after curfew. Upon sighting the student, he had cast a silencing spell over his boots because if there was one thing Professor Snape enjoyed more than catching his prey, it was catching unsuspecting prey. Almost as soon as he drew breath to speak he found himself on the end of a wand held in very steady hands and looking down into the piercing eyes of one Miss Hermione Granger. He slowly raised his hands in mock surrender as he watched her cool façade slip and saw how genuinely scared she had actually been. Her breathing was erratic, and she lowered her wand and began to rub her chest whilst grimacing.

"Nice reflexes Miss Granger," he drawled smoothly, whilst steadfastly ignoring the pang of sympathy he felt for her obvious discomfort.

"Thank you, Sir," she practically whispered as she leant against the wall and tried to regulate her breathing.

He locked eyes with her and raised one eyebrow, questioning her evident alarm.

"I'm fine, Sir. I apologise for pointing my wand at you…I can't help my reactions sometimes," she offered whilst looking sincerely apologetic.

"Do not concern yourself with apologies Miss Granger, I am unharmed and unaffected by your attack," he sneered.

"It was self-defence!" She exclaimed as her cheeks were tinged with a rosy hue, and she locked eyes with him once more.

"Tell me what exactly were you defending yourself against? My, walking behind you? Am I not permitted to approach a student out of bed after curfew? I am interested to hear what exactly you think the purpose of my patrolling these halls amounts to?" His eyes glittered with anger and he leaned in menacingly close as he enunciated every syllable he spoke with perfect precision.

"I…I thought," she began feebly, "I did not know it was you Sir," she finished whilst lowering her gaze to the floor. He watched as her curls fell round her face, hiding her from his scrutiny and recognised that he had very rarely seen her with her hair down, she was always so uptight and composed, seeing her like this made her seem alarmingly fragile and human in this moment.

"As I have already informed you I am unaffected, Miss Granger. Do you care to enlighten me as to why you are roaming the halls at this hour?" His tone made it clear he was to be answered as he took a step back from her.

"I was…restless, Sir. I couldn't concentrate on my reading so I thought a quick patrol might help settle my mind," she offered earnestly.

He looked down at her and remembering his earlier instincts that something was wrong with Miss Granger, he found himself curious as to what was plaguing her mind. She looked up at him with wide eyes that seemed to be growing alarmingly wetter by the second. Oh gods, if there is one thing that unnerves me more than annoying students it is annoying, emotional students. He stood up straight and looked down his nose at her with a cold stare.

"Miss Granger, if you require some kind of guidance or assistance I am positive Professor McGonagall will be agreeable to meeting with you in the morning," he began with professional coldness, "I think it would be wise to return to your room now and try and get some rest," he stated dispassionately before turning to leave.

"Professor Snape…Sir," she began as he stopped in his tracks and slowly turned to face her. She was biting her lip and tugging on the sleeve of her robe.

"I wanted to apologise…for yesterday Sir. It was entirely inappropriate, and I am sorry," she began nervously. "Although, it is important that you know it was done with the best of intentions, Sir."

He merely raised an eyebrow at her and folded his arms across his chest.

"I thought you were probably as hungry as I was but that you wouldn't have time to go to the kitchens, and I noticed you seemed to have a headache," she began to ramble. "Anyway, I thought…I mean I was grateful for your concern." She noticed him beginning to frown and suddenly looked panic-stricken. "I am aware it is only because you have a responsibility for a student's welfare and I am labouring under no misapprehension that it was done out of any sort of kindness or compassion, however I was grateful for your concern nevertheless and just…well I just wanted to return the favour." She looked down at her feet sheepishly and began to shuffle nervously.

He studied her intently. He did not doubt the sincerity of her words, after all she was a classic example of a bleeding-heart. What he did doubt was her subconscious motivation. He could honestly say that had Potter and Weasley been kicking about somewhere she would not have given his welfare so much as a second thought. She had changed a great deal since she went off on her little adventure with those ridiculous boys. She carried herself differently, there was an air of sadness or weariness about her these days.

"Miss Granger, I have noticed you are not yourself this year. Incidents like yesterday only corroborate this opinion I hold. If something is wrong you really must speak to Professor McGonagall," he stated firmly but not unkindly.

"Really, Sir, there is no need. I suppose I am feeling a little lost…now that…well now that it is all over I find myself feeling like I have no purpose," she declared vehemently, "and…I am…well I'm alone and it is…unsettling," she finished sadly.

He was blown away by how much her feelings seemed to mirror his own and it was this tiny little thread of comparable emotions that lead him to feel empathetic towards her. The vehemence with which she had stated her lack of purpose alarmed him. Surely one so young should not feel their existence so meaningless?

"I can't help but notice you seem to working on bettering yourself with regards to your brewing skills Miss Granger," he stated in a measured tone. "Perhaps you require some additional practice?" he queried whilst reading her expression for any kind of reaction. He found only disbelief and shock evident on her face.

"I expect you at 10.00 am every Saturday and Sunday morning in the Potions classroom. Good evening Miss Granger." He strode off leaving Hermione standing utterly bewildered in the corridor.

Shit, was I supposed to respond, Hermione thought as her brain finally caught up.

"Yes Sir. Good evening Professor," she practically hollered down the hall. She watched as he stopped, his shoulders suddenly tense. He turned and walked back towards her purposefully. As he advanced upon her she felt her breath catch in her throat and found herself considering what a powerful presence her Potions Professor had.

"Do refrain from shouting in my presence, we are not at a Quidditch match Miss Granger, try to conduct yourself appropriately," he sneered as he looked her up and down, pausing briefly on her feet before his lip curled in a terrifying smile. He began to walk away before suddenly turning and adding, "Oh one more thing Miss Granger?"

Shit now what, Hermione thought as she gulped and nodded.

"Those socks are an abomination," he scoffed as he smirked at her wickedly before finally escaping.

Hermione looked down at her fuzzy pink slipper socks covered in rainbows before returning her gaze to the spot her Professor had just vacated.

Yup, Professor Snape is certainly an enigma, she thought as she headed back to Gryffindor tower, Bat of the Dungeons, Evil Potions Master, Former Death Eater, Double Agent…and member of the fashion police apparently.

Hermione could not help the snort of amusement from escaping as she considered how bizarre her life had become as a result of her encounters with her brooding Professor.

Oh well at least he keeps things interesting…

Oh Hermione, you have no idea how interesting...

I would really appreciate feedback on the Emovere Potion which I created. Thanks peeps x