Disclaimer: I'm Hermy Puckle. Not JKR.

C H A P T E R O N E

I should start you a bit before where it all began. Though I figure now, that it really began when I first started working at Hogwarts, a year prior. But that year is full of verbose events. Unneeded. Just know that I started working at Hogwarts.

Got it? Moving on.

The day I'm starting with is the day just before the students left for Winter Holiday. There was that familiar buzzing around me. The buzzing of impatience, young minds clearly projecting the yearning for the next day.

And I sat at the head table, sandwiched between Hagrid and Dumbledore.

Ok step back. I know he's supposed to be dead. He is. He's a ghost. I know, how odd is that? TWO ghosts on staff. Well, Dumbledore didn't just wake up dead like Professor Binns. No, he stayed a ghost to aid Harry. And make sure we all knew Snape was forced.

But anyway, I was talking to Hagrid, or rather, he was perorating about introducing his fifth-year class to baby gorgons (which doesn't have a recipe for disaster, oh nooo) while the rest of the building was planning their vacation.

Then Snape walked in.

Ok, Snape no longer works at Hogwarts for two reasons.

Parents don't want their kids taught by an ex-con and

Snape hates teaching.

He now owns a shop, selling potions he's made up and ones on which he's perfected. Does pretty well, from what I hear. I've gone in a few times. Snape's rude and callous and looks down his overlarge nose at each customer.

Shock, I know.

So when Snape walked in, I guess I was a bit annoyed. I mean, I guess I really don't have anything against him; he just irritates me. I mean, all throughout my career as a student, he was condescending and rude and full of himself. That hasn't changed. So he comes in and gives me the 'oh, what is an unworthy speck of dirt like you doing here?' look before completely ignoring me. Even when I tried to make polite conversation, or even ask him to pass the salt.

And who really wants that?

I knew, seeing Snape take a seat next to Dumbledore, that I should just keep to myself and enjoy any socializing. It wouldn't be too difficult. I'm no hermit but I fare well on my own.

It's just a crack in my cauldron that I have to avoid certain places to which I have a right because of some visitor.

That entire day, I managed to do so. Avoid him, that is. Until the Grand End-of-Term Feast, that is. Where, ironically, I was seated next to him.

If I were the type, I'd start to whine and complain that the fates had it in for me.

I'm not the type though and never was.

So I sat quietly, not daring to open my mouth lest everything I said be scruntinised and criticized, and only spoke when spoken to.

Unfortunately, Minerva was feeling alarmingly chatty.

Fortunately, it was mostly Snape to whom she felt like speaking. So I was free to speak to the likes of Hagrid and Ginny while he was distracted.

Yay.

That night, I rode the train home, happy to have a bit of holiday. I don't recall if I slept on the way there, for all I remember is getting on the train and next thing I know, I'm walking into my apartment, taking a shower, and then finally, falling into bed.

And that's where the normalcy in my life just died.

Like a fly blasted with insecticide.

Dead.

I woke up to a persistent knocking on my door. I threw off the covers and trudged into my sitting room, loathing whoever it was on the other side of that wood. It could have been Charlotte Morrigan, the writer of a favourite series of mine, and I still hated them. For waking me up at the gods-awful time of . . . 8 AM.

Oh.

I decided to calm myself from my homicidal state and take a deep breath before opening the door.

In . . . out . . .

Better.

I turned the knob and as soon as I did, I wished I hadn't.

There, in my doorway, was Snape.

Smiling.

'I hope you slept well,' he told me and just slid in around me.

Rude!

I closing my door slowly and turned and followed him. He straightened out a photo of my parents and me from a trip to Ireland a few years back, before turning to me.

He frowned. 'You look like hell.'

Oh, thanks.

Not really wanting to deal with this, I asked, 'what are you doing here?'

He smiled again. 'Well, I've hardly seen you over this last week, with both of us being busy and I missed you.'

Missed me?

Oh, I KNEW this was a trap. I mean, he must have wanted something. Why else would he have 'missed' me?

But I didn't know to what he was up so I simply tried to play along. 'I just saw you yesterday.'

Snape's eyes narrowed in confusion. 'No, you didn't. You've been worked to the bone for a month, trying to end the year. I haven't seen you since last Monday. Hermione . . . are you feeling ok?'

'Hermione?'

Suddenly, he looked generally frightened, as though he feared he'd made a huge faux pas. 'That is your name . . . isn't it?'

DAMN that man's sarcasm was really subtle. I could have taken that for seriousness had I not known him.

Slightly miffed, I didn't bother to hide it in my answer. 'I know it's my name. I'm just . . . you never called me that before.'

Still looking scared, he asked, 'what did I call you?'

He looked serious! I swear! The man, all six-five of him, looked totally confused.

'Are you feeling ok?' I asked. 'You're looking a bit peaky.'

Reluctantly, he said, 'I suppose I should go. Wouldn't want to get you sick.' And then he stepped forward.

And brought his face toward me . . .

And kissed my cheek.

Ok, you might have been expecting a snog or something but that's because you are too melodramatic. The reason I make such a large deal with this is because . . . well, think! When's the last time some bloke who thought you an insect cheek-snogged you? Wouldn't you be a bit surprised if he did?

There you go.

I ogled at him, trying to figure out his motives. But he walked out as though his previous action were the most normal thing. He walked out and said, 'I'll floo you later.'

And that was that.

I would have gladly sat down hard on my couch and tried to wrap my mind around the events that had unfolded, and likely give myself a stroke, if it weren't for emerald flames shooting out of my fireplace.

I jumped. Was he flooing me already?

It turned out to be Dumbledore's head, instead of Snape's. He smiled at me.

'Hope I didn't startle you, Hermione. If you have the time, could I have a word with you? In my office?' Without a response, he disappeared, flames and all.

I quickly dressed and set myself in the fireplace.

Maybe he knew what was going on.

A/N: I have not died! No fear, I am still alive and apparently, my writer's block has finally left!

Yayyyyy!

I've been working on this story at work. I don't know what or when I'm going to update next but let me just appologise for the delay and the short chappie.

Thanks to all my readers! Don't worry! None of my stories have been abandoned.

Next Chappie: Physics: HP Style

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