Never in her entire life, did Hermione Granger think that she would be working this close to a man who during her school years always reminded her of how annoyed he was by her sole presence. She couldn't believe that after so blatantly confessing her love for him, he would still want to even speak to her or even lay his eyes upon her for that matter.

Holding a few boxes that she supposed contained flasks, beakers, and other instruments judging by the clicking sounds she heard when moving them, Hermione looked up, tilting her head to read the sign over the door.

"Dirty Witchy Secrets", she thought about it for a moment, hoping it to be anything else but expecting it to be precisely what a little voice in the back of her mind continued whispering. "Oh no..." she cleared her throat awkwardly, trying to suppress a laugh. "Well, if Muggles have this kind of store I don't see why wizards shouldn't."

"No wonder it didn't work," was his only reply and Hermione funnily thought about how hard Harry and Ron would laugh at the prospect of Snape in a XXX store.

"If I have to guess, maybe because of the war? Can't say that it was the top priority during those difficult times. But... shouldn't this kind of store be in a much more fitting alley like Knockturn Alley for example? I'm not saying that whatever they were selling here contained any sort of dark magic, but it seems like something that kids shouldn't look at while doing their regular shopping."

"Maybe," Snape replied but she couldn't tell which one of her questions he was replying to, fishing for the keys inside of one of the pockets of his black robes. "That's why I believe that it was just some sort of cover for something else. It's completely abandoned now, anyways, and almost ready to use."

"Almost?"

"I solicited the help of a few elves from Hogwarts, after discussing the matter with Minerva. As you can see..." Snape said, opening the door and stepping aside so that she could enter and assess the situation by herself. "This place is sufficiently big enough to maybe have some magical pests hiding around."

"So... you have been thinking about this for a while."

"I rarely found what I needed in other Apothecary shops and I guess that there are other people like me, that are up for a challenge of more complex recipes than the ones in the textbooks approved by the Ministry."

" That's reasonable I suppose. Unless by complex you mean prohibited?"

"You said it, not me," the man replied with a smirk, taking the boxes of her hands. "All I can say is that Minerva seemed just as surprised as you were, Miss Granger, with the idea of me as a businessman".

"You're practically allergic to any type of human interaction! From all the people I would think of owning a store, you would be way down on the list." Hermione awkwardly joked and Snape simply shrugged.

"And that's where you play a crucial role, Granger. So I don't have to interact with people. I will be in charge of the orders or any other task non-related to customer service."

She let herself wander off for a moment, exploring the premises. The place was indeed just so Snape, and that didn't surprise her at all. A pretty spacious place to put some potion samples on shelves, a counter, a potion lab, a study, and even a closet for the inventory.

"What's in here?" she asked, walking behind the counter to find a closed door.

"Some sort of back room with a bed, a toilet..." she heard the man reply in the distance, rummaging through the boxes for something.

"Oh, so you expect me to live here too?"

"Why would I? It was already there when I bought this place, so I supposed that the past owner used to stay, and perhaps it makes sense after everything that happened with all these storekeepers that were tortured by Death Eaters during the war".

"Pretty convenient."

"I thought that you would be more excited about it, Granger. After all, you said that you needed to sort your life out, and this seems like the perfect place to do so."

"Of course, in the middle of the bloody Diagon Alley of all places."

"There are no perfect plans, Granger. The number of questions about my loyalties that I'm obliged to answer every day it's completely absurd and yet, Minerva believes that once the castle is repaired every parent in the Wizarding World will forget about me and my past actions. And I'm completely sure, Miss Granger, that such a thing will not happen, no matter what your friend Potter says. It would seem that no matter what I did to keep these scoundrels safe, it wasn't enough. It was never enough," Snape said, walking to the opposite side of the counter while making eye contact with her as he spoke.

"So... I'm guessing that you aren't precisely happy about being alive?" she eyed him with curiosity. She avoided staring directly at his neck and the exact place she remembered that the scar was, but the man instinctively fixed his collar anyways even if it wasn't visible.

"I had one, and just one mission and that was keeping Potter alive, nothing more. So, again, I'm at the mercy of someone else against my will. I never thought that it would be Minerva McGonagall of all people."

"You have the wrong impression that everyone on this planet wishes you dead, professor. Yeah, I guess that that stupid book doesn't exactly talk beautifully about your persona, but what matters is what we know you did for the cause. That's why you're able to walk free or you would be rotting in an Azkaban's cell by now."

"Of course. Thank you, Miss Granger, Mister Potter, and Mister Weasley for your kindness." Snape bitterly replied. Hermione grimaced at the painful thought of remembering Severus Snape from her school days and how much in pain he must have been.

Before she could speak again, she noticed the man deeply focused on something, and following his gaze to her arms, she saw a little cut on the back of one of her hands. She quickly tried to hide it but to no avail.

"I thought that it would take you more time, maybe a week or so to decide, Miss Granger." He said without taking his eyes off her hands. "I must admit that I'm kinda surprised to see you here, but I guess Gryffindor doesn't surrender that easily."

"You're the one surprised, honestly? I'm still confused as to why you still want to even talk to me after everything that has happened." She nervously smiled, looking everywhere else but at him. "This doesn't have anything to do with stupid pride. I... thought about... trying new things. "

"Oh, is that so?"

"Yes."

It might have been a strange resolution but she was somehow content with it, even if that meant working closer to the man she loved.

Or perhaps she just didn't want to go through these new changes alone. Even if it was Snape, of all people, the only one to know her horrible truth.

Staring at her unpacked boxes sitting in her brand new apartment, Hermione Granger tried to summarize her entire life and upon doing so concluded that even when most of the things she had achieved during her school years made her proud, maybe they weren't just everything she had to focus on. Education was really important, but maybe not everything simply had to revolve around it.

It wasn't as if suddenly she wanted to go out from bar to bar and get drunk every day but thought that perhaps if she was to die sooner or later, she had to try new things.

And with that resolution in mind and Crookshanks comfortably nestled in her arms, Hermione walked into a small study, searching for a quill and parchment, moving a few boxes off her desk to write.

"Professor Snape.

I've been thinking deeply about the matter and concluded that even when I'm still not so sure of why you would still even want to talk to me after everything that happened and the way I behaved, it would be a beneficial change for me if I accepted your offer. I promise that I will keep my feelings to myself and there will not be any other outburst of any kind, keeping our relationship strictly professional.

Have a pleasant weekend.

Hermione Granger."

This was the worst letter she had written for sure, but how was she supposed to write a letter to a man she just confessed her love to and yet sound as if nothing happened?

"What do you think, Crookshanks? Should I just send this and accept his offer even when I believe that he's feeling sorry for me now that I'm sick; and that's why he's doing all this?" She said while running her fingers through her cat's fluffy form. "That must be it. I stupidly confessed my love for him and he still wants to work with me? Sounds like another of those awful and cliche romantic books, with absolutely zero realistic scenarios."

With a loud Meep, Crookshanks flicked his tail back and forth.

"Ah, right. You aren't precisely fond of Professor Snape, so I suppose I will decide my future myself then."

Why her? It was all her mind could think of, and was totally ruining the mood of finally settling in. There wouldn't be any difference in unpacking or not if she was going to be dead sooner or later. Everything would end back in the boxes and probably be in the garbage within a day or so.

Her parents… they didn't deserve to go through such pain after everything they had to endure already. She was their only daughter and she feared that it would devastate them to the point of no return.

On the other side of the dilemma, her friends. She didn't exactly know how wizards dealt with a terminal illness, but she wasn't that sure that they would understand the entire process. The chemotherapy, possible surgeries (they always thought that those were barbaric procedures), medicines, and everything that was part of the world she came from, would use to deal with cancer.

"I have to admit that you write quite interesting letters, Granger. If it were an essay…"

"I know, I know, you never were fond of my writings. But I don't know what else you expected, professor, after everything…" she trailed off, trying so hard not to blush.

"Why not tell your friends? You could use their support" He suddenly asked, taking her off guard.

"I rather not, sir".

"It have anything to do with that stupid bloody Gryffindor courage, dealing with everything with absolute no help?"

"No. I mean... Harry would understand, I'm sure. But... Ronald and the others maybe wouldn't."

"Look, Granger, I'm the first one on the line to call Weasley an idiot but even so, I think that you're overreacting. For as much as I hate to say it, Weasley isn't that stupid. Or at least I hope so."

"I'm in no way saying he is but it's a different situation. Involving Muggle doctors, treatments, and possibilities that aren't contemplated in any magic textbook. There's absolutely no spell or potion that could magically fix this."

"All I'm saying, Granger, is that you shouldn't be alone on your next checkup. The initial shock of such news could restrain you from gathering the necessary information you need and that's why you should have at least one friend that could be there with you." Snape seemed to think deeper on the matter and Hermione felt uncomfortably studied. "I'm not a healer of any sort, but I do have basic knowledge thanks to studying how potions and spells affect the body and its functions, so if I were you, Miss Granger, I would want to know everything about what I'm dealing with."

She just didn't want to know how bad it already was and Snape seemed to notice, clearing his throat.

"Maybe we both were indeed incorrectly sorted by the Sorting Hat as Albus always used to say."

" Wh... what?"

"Think about that", he simply said, as he walked away, leaving her to stare at the cut on her hand.

What was she supposed to do? How was she supposed to react to such awful news? How on earth was she going to tell her parents after everything they had gone through?

How was she supposed to tell her best friends?

"Everything is fine here! By the way, I just received the news that I have cancer."

What a delightful way of starting a letter.