Chapter Three – The Woes and Revelations of Severus

Disclaimer: All the characters that you recognize belong to J. K. Rowling. All other characters are mine. This story is purely for fun, and I don't make any money off it. Unfortunately, the story isn't mine ether: this is in response to Wormey's 'Heir Challenge'. Go to her page if you want to read the requirements! Thank you for reading! Constructive criticism is welcome, as always.

Thank you so much to everyone who's taken the time to review my story. n.n

Severus was furious. Not only was he completely unaware that he would be receiving and assistant, but of all the wizards and witches in the world, the very last person he would have expected to see was Hermione bloody Granger. She had never shown any interest in that subject and, indeed, never pursued a career in that area after graduation.

He attended a class of first years, still seething, and immediately deducted fifty points from a Gryffindor girl who had fainted upon his arrival. By the end of the lesson, three other students had fainted and fully half the class was in tears. Even some of the Slytherins were crying.

He decided not to talk to Albus about Hermione, however. He didn't want to give the old bastard the satisfaction of having pissed him off. Truthfully, an assistant could be useful to him—being the only Potions Master in the school was rather time consuming, although he loathed the idea of being undermined by a much younger and less experienced witch. Especially if that witch was Hermione Granger.

Severus sighed inwardly as he reclined before his fireplace at the end of the first day, a bottle of firewhiskey resting on his knee. He didn't know whether or not Hermione was still interested in him. He certainly hoped not, though he highly doubted that she'd still want him after almost two years. He stared into the fire, transfixed, alabaster complexion highlighted orange by the flames. Hermione was the least stressful thing on his mind at the moment.

Another year at Hogwart's School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, he mused silently. Not that he'd ever enjoyed teaching an entire school's worth of incompetent fools. But this year, a dramatic turn of events had fallen into place to ensure that Severus' school year would be entirely more pleasurable than any he had previously experienced.

The Dark Lord was dead. Voldemort had been defeated.

Late in the summer, the death of Lord Voldemort had marked the conclusion of the greatest war in magical history. The war had raged on for little over a year, and several very talented witches and wizards had been lost. The enlistment by Voldemort of several dangerous Death Eaters and magical creatures had assured that. The outcome had begun to look bleak for the Order and other Ministry members when Harry had unexpectedly slain Voldemort. No one knew exactly what had occurred then – Harry himself couldn't even seem to remember – but rumor had told of the use of Godric Gryffindor's sword.

Severus leaned back in his chair briskly, nursing his now half-empty bottle. He had been a double agent, a spy for both Voldemort and Dumbledore simultaneously. In the last hour Severus had revealed his loyalty to Albus Dumbledore and the Order, leaving many of the Dark Lord's followers rubbed the wrong way and out for his traitorous blood. Although there were still many Death Eaters running rampant, the death of Lord Voldemort had lessened the threat to the wizarding world dramatically.

Severus had never fathomed a word without Voldemort, a world without pain and the freedom to do what he pleased, to make his own decisions without the weight of the magical world resting on his shoulders. The sensation was all so new to him that he didn't know quite what to do with himself. He performed the same routines, the same tasks day in and day out as he had done when he was servant to both Voldemort and the Order. He couldn't bring himself to do anything different.

Lately, however, he had begun to think of the future, and what it might hold for him … how the remainder of his years could be best spent. Severus was a selfish man, though ironically he could never imagine himself becoming anything more than a servant for the greater good.

He grunted non-commitally, taking a long swig of firewhiskey. He winced slightly as it burned a trail of fire down his throat. The bloodline of his mother was one of the oldest known. If he didn't produce an heir, that bloodline would die with him. Severus Snape needed to produce an heir.

But what witch could possibly want a man with his background?

His thoughts gradually shifted back to Hermione and his encounter with her the night before. A smile tugged at the corner of his mouth. He had seen something in her eyes then … fear, maybe. Could it have been lust? Whatever it was, it had been refreshing to Severus. He hadn't seen true emotion in a woman's eyes for as long as he could remember.

Severus growled softly, scolding himself for allowing such thoughts. She was his student, for God's sake, not some whore on a street corner, and certainly not a woman he desired.

She's not a student anymore, part of him mused. She's a colleague now. An assistant. Your assistant. And Albus never specified what she was to be helping with.

"This is ridiculous," he muttered, massaging his temples. He rose to his feet with a slight stagger and made his way into his sleeping quarters, picking up that morning's issue of the Daily Prophet from his desk. He flipped through the pages until he found what he was looking for. The Potions Master skimmed through the articles quickly before jotting down a few notes on a piece of parchment, wrapping it with a string of green and silver ribbon. Slytherin colors.

Severus tossed the rolled-up piece of parchment on his desk and disrobed, hanging the clothing neatly in his closet before climbing into his bed. He lay there, silent, motionless, his hands folded beneath his head as thoughts flooded his mind like a broken dam. At first, he wasn't sure what he wanted in a surrogate mother, but as the minutes passed and he thought about what values he would teach his children, Severus realized there was one trait that he cherished above all others: intelligence.

Unfortunately, there weren't nearly as many intelligent witches as ones who would just as easily spread their legs.

Sorry for the short chapter. T.T I just wanted you to see Severus' point of view so you understood where he was coming from. Please review!