Author's Note: Ehh, for whatever reason I ended up going rather "stream of consciousness" for the first two sections of this chapter. I guess just since the interaction between them is still just starting; and I was trying in some ways to demonstrate how, despite being "opposite" in so many ways, they actually have a lot in common in terms of their thought processes. Let me know if you like the style or prefer something more strictly linear.

RawenclawBabe – Indeed. Well, I always pictured Severus as having sort of three rather strong motivations for joining the Death Eaters. The first because they – or at least their allies in Slytherin – were in some senses the first group to ever really accept him, and they have power, which he craves, and mistakenly thinks Lily would be impressed. The second because he really does hate the Ministry/etc. for what they did to his mother, etc. And the third… probably the most tragic of all in hindsight; well, I'll get into in a later chapter that I already have planned out. xD

Also. Granted the details about the backstory on Eileen and Tobias isn't really known canonically. I always sort of pictured Eileen as being somewhere between Merope Gaunt (in love, initially at least with a muggle who goes on to hate her, though in Eileen's case, obviously not leave her), and her son (desperately in love with someone so "opposite" from them, that she tries to "force" it to work, with an even more disastrous consequence in the end). Just conjecture I suppose though, so read into it what you will. ^_^

September 2nd, 1976

Whatever relief Severus thought he'd get in sleep never materialized. The feast had been… fine he supposed. Aside from the Sorting Hat practically taunting him, another DADA professor, and that strange new girl who was evidently involved in one of Dumbledore's new schemes… Alright, so it'd been terrible. And boded more terrible yet for the future if his intuition was worth anything; and after that whole affair with the Shrieking Shack, when it came to Dumbledore and … them… it certainly seemed to be.

He'd eaten enough he supposed. Not that he was particularly hungry, just he knew he probably should, if for nothing more than to not stand out. He'd managed to make all the right comments at just the right part of whatever conversation was going on without really caring to pay attention; something with "friends" like his that he'd become damned good at. And eventually it'd been over; Dumbledore had sent them all off to their dormitories. He never thought he'd be so glad to hear that odious old man speak in his entire life…

He'd rushed straight off to his dormitory, barely even bothering to take more than a haphazard effort at unpacking and washing up for the night before collapsing wearily on his bed. Avery and the others had asked him if he wanted to run off and do… some idiocy or another; he'd only half heard them. But, feigning physical exhaustion – which certainly wasn't a lie; it'd been one of the most draining days of his life – he managed to excuse himself for the night early, wishing them well on whatever mindlessness they were sure to create…

He'd closed his eyes, tried to sleep. And, tired as he was, it actually came quite quickly. But there was no real rest in it. There were dreams, but she was there in them. For years, nothing had brought him a greater sense of peace, contentment than seeing Lily's face, her eyes, her smile. But as they danced around in his head that night, there were no smiles; there was nothing in her eyes but scorn and hatred. Lily had changed… forever. The love of his life hated him, and so dreams only released his subconscious to unleash all the silent torment he'd been carrying hidden side.

Severus had probably tossed and turned terribly that night, but by the time the others were back in, they were so tired and stupid to have not taken any real notice. Finally, morning came, and with it a small ray of hope. Well, not of hope in any real sense, merely distraction: He had potions class first thing that morning.

To some it would sound a trivial fact. It was a subject reviled by most, properly understood by only a select few. Along with DADA, Potions had always been Severus's favorite subject. It was something of the mindset of it all he supposed. There was an order to it, a reason, logic. Even when all else was wrong and chaotic in the world, it provided solace. It forced one's attention. It brought a sense of order, of control. It was almost a zen sort of thing. Even when he was child, when Tobias would come home in a drunken stupor, beat Severus and his mother; the sort of cold, analytic, order it provided, even then it provided some relief. It… and her. And now she was gone. It was the only refuge he had left any longer in the world, transient as it could be.

And so while his spirits were hardly "bright" that morning at breakfast, they were somewhat more stable than the night before at least. He'd brought it with him to the morning meal, the Advanced Potion-Making textbook; the same one that'd first belonged to his mother.

His mother… he thought with a rather sad internal sigh. She hadn't been perfect, hadn't always been the best towards him. But… unlike his father, she had actually cared. She didn't harbor unconditional hatred for him for simply being born using magic. Her sins if any were those of omission, not commission. But it wasn't even really her fault. From his earliest memories of her, Eileen had been… terrified of Tobias. Why she'd had the insane desire to marry a muggle in the first place, ruin the noble Prince line… he couldn't say. Even when they had been alone, she never much wanted to get in to it.

From what he could surmise, what he could deduce, the logical inferences he could make out between her tears and his father's drunken ravings… Eileen too had been good at potions. And… she'd been a fool. She, despite being a pureblooded Slytherin of a noble family line had fallen for a muggle. Someone inferior, beneath her status. But despite all reason, her unconditional, irrational love won out in her. So by way of potions she'd won his heart. A rather easy task on a muggle of all things. She'd never told him of course, what she was… She was willing to give it up… everything, all she had for him… And for what…?

After they were married, she'd stopped using the potion. Tobias had stayed, mostly for her money; she'd converted most of the Prince family's wealth into muggle currency. Which the foul man had wasted away on gambling and drinking like the loathsome creature he was. It… hadn't been until after Severus was born though, until that… he knew, he showed his truest, vilest character.

Eileen for her part had been willing to sacrifice everything for him. Her honor, her fortune, her family line, even the use of her magic. She'd cast it all aside, acted like a muggle would. Tobias hadn't the slightest idea she was a witch until… until young Snape had started showing latent magical abilities. He didn't mean it, he couldn't have known what trouble it would cause but… Tobias had found out. His son was a wizard, and his wife a witch. That was when the abuse had really started. He… hated magic, hated anything to do with his wife or son…

And it was from that, from that that Severus had learned the hard truth. That muggles were no friends of magic users. If a muggle father hated his own witch wife and wizard son so bitterly, there couldn't possibly be any good among them. The neighbors, the other children. They'd all been the same. Laughed at him at best, threw rocks or did other such things in other cases. They only drove the point in further.

Lily though. She'd been so different. So much better. What an incredible relief, delight it'd been when he first saw her using magic. She was … a witch. Someone like his mother and him. Someone who would understand, someone who would be on his side, who would have to be. Or so he'd thought… Eileen and Lily. The two witches he wanted nothing more to stand by him. Now one lay dead, and the other hated him. How could things have possibly, possibly gone so terribly wrong…?

A tear hit the parchment of the index of the textbook he'd turned to. Damnitall, so much for stable emotions. "This Book is the Property of the Half-Blood Prince." He'd written as much over this past summer. It… was the least he could do for his mother. Maybe it wasn't the fairest analysis of things, but in some small ways, he felt responsible for what had happened to her. If… if he hadn't been a wizard. Or at least hadn't showed such strong magic abilities. Then, maybe Tobias wouldn't have been as cruel to her. Wouldn't have driven her to such an early death. Most of all though, he blamed the man himself. The horrible, cruel, muggle man who'd all but literally tortured his mother to death… And… the Ministry. For letting it happen.

With that signature, that alias. He divorced himself entirely from Tobias Snape, muggle. He was the son of Eileen Prince. A witch of a powerful, noble family. One that he'd restore, if there was any justice to be had in the world at all, with Lily at his side. He wouldn't, he couldn't lose both of them.

Hermione, for her part felt as if her head were spinning as she awoke. She had thought it was all maybe just some terrible dream, and if she were to go to bed… she might by chance end up waking up for real. It was nice… fascinating… certainly to have met the younger counterparts of Sirius and Remus, meet James for the first time, and… she wouldn't even think about him. Or the sixth year Slytherin that had eyed her in cold suspicion last night, but especially him…

Actually. She wasn't sure… No, she hated Pettigrew more, definitely, but… Snape was a near second. There was just… something about the way he'd looked at her last night. Like… he just assumed her to be guilty of some heinous offense. Just because she was there, or in Gryffindor, or… She didn't even know what exactly it was about her in particular he seemed to loathe so much. Well, her, and Ron, and … particularly Harry.

From what she'd seen. From what the Marauders had told her about him… He hadn't changed a bit in twenty years. Well, sure he'd gotten a bit taller, even more sour looking. His nose a bit bigger, his hair a bit greasier. But he still seemed the same terrible, suspicious, cruel man he ever was. Always assuming the absolute worst of everyone. Well, aside from his fellow Slytherins of course… And, from what she knew of the man, what she'd endured for more than five years… Hermione knew full well that this certainly wasn't the last she'd see of Severus Snape.

Except… now they were on a more even footing. They were both students, subject to the same rules. He had no more authority than she did. He couldn't give her detentions, deduct points from Gryffindor. He, she thought rather shrewdly, couldn't do anything to her. Well, he could report her to a professor or something she guessed, but she'd have to have done something in the first place, wouldn't she? And objectively, Hermione at least considered herself to be a quite good student. Even the worst he could ever call her was an "insufferable know-it-all."

It was perfect, a slight bit of consolation to the whole thing. As long as she wasn't stupid, she was absolutely immune to him. It was her chance for vengeance of a sort. A bright smile played across her lips as she strolled down to the Great Hall for breakfast.

Hermione found an empty seat next to Lupin. All the better. Nothing against James or Sirius. Hermione was rather fond of all of them so far. They were a bit… forward, but almost in an endearing sort of way. In some senses, they reminded her almost of Fred and George.

Oh… Hermione frowned. She … couldn't think of them without thinking of … Ron. And that… that was painful. Even more so now. It… was terrible enough when he was dating Lavender, so publicly. Seemed to hate her enough to … do that to her. But now. Now she'd done something so incredibly … stupid. That… she wasn't even certain if she'd ever be able to see him again and…

She clenched her eyes shut, trying to shut those … painful images out. Not entirely successfully. Anything, anything else to take the place. Class, school, academics. That… for her usually worked. If her mind was busy on something rigid, something concrete.

So she had potions first, right? What was it they were going over in that? Somewhat embarrassingly, almost opposite her normal character, in the rather chaotic circumstances of her entering this term, she … well, didn't even have any of her books yet. Dumbledore had arranged for the professors in the classes she was taking to simply give her one of the excess books for each of their classes on the first day.

So … potions. What would they be going over…? Umm… Well, logically speaking… If the curriculum was the same…Wait, it'd have to be the same! A sort of lightbulb went off in her head. In her sixth year, Slughorn had come in as the new Professor of Potions. Replacing that hideous, cruel… Anyhow. And, if she recalled, he was also the Potions Professor before Snape, meaning… Meaning, unless Slughorn had significantly changed his lessons – which she really couldn't see him doing – then for the first few months… she'd be ahead of the entire class. She'd at least have the advantage of already hearing the lessons, already going over the material in advance. She could … maybe even best Snape himself. Beat him at his own art. Wouldn't that be satisfying? Payback for all the snide remarks he'd made… or would starting in fifteen years or…?

Fine, so it sounded a bit petty. But, Snape had been a professor of the absolute worst sort. There were few things in the world Hermione preferred to studying, learning, expanding her mind. And yet… he managed to make it difficult for even her to desire at times. Yeah. Just once, just once, she wanted to beat him, humiliate him, now that they were on an even playing field. As payback for all the years of terrible classes he'd made her endure.

She'd evidently chuckled a bit at the thought, because Lupin had turned to her, asking what was so funny.

"Oh," she replied, a slight frown forming. She couldn't exactly explain to him the irony in beating her former/future … however one looked at it … professor in his own subject could she? "It was just… My parents. They're muggles. Well-meaning but a bit ignorant of our ways at times, you know? Anyhow… My dad sent me a Quibbler, thinking it was the Daily Prophet. And it had the most ridiculous article on these supposed beings called 'nargles' and…"

A slight sad look came over her face again. One that thankfully Lupin missed. It … it'd worked to bring excuse her earlier laugh, but… her parents. Would she ever see them again? Well… Hermione supposed they were adults, together at this point. She'd be born in three years and fourteen days after all. But that… that'd be an infant, a different person entirely. If her parents saw her now. They wouldn't recognize her. They wouldn't have a faintest idea who she, their own daughter was. She'd… she'd lost them too… What a miserable thought…

Or the Quibbler – Luna Lovegood. Another of her friends. Another pang hit her. Alright, that'd been really "well" thought out, hadn't it…?

"Yeah," Lupin laughed slightly on his own. "Pretty inane stuff in there if you ask me…"

"So…" Hermione added quickly, desperate to change the topic, "Where's James and Sirius?" Deliberately making a point of leaving Pettigrew out, though she wasn't certain if Lupin noticed. If he did, he made no mention of it.

"Oh…" he said, rolling his eyes slightly, pointing to nearly the other end of the Gryffindor table. "They're down there."

There, standing rather than sitting down, James and Sirius seemed to be talking to… well, from the other parties' expressions, more like harassing … a number of Gryffindor girls. Evidently she wasn't the only one Sirius did that to. Hermione was too far away to hear the conversations of course, but… that's when she noticed. The girl, the one that James seemed most fixated. The same redheaded prefect who'd introduced herself last night as Lily Evans.

So… that was all it how started. She couldn't help but be vaguely curious. From the looks of things, Lily seemed to wear the same expression of vague annoyance at the boys' antics that the others did. But then, it happened. A bit of a smile broke through. Lily had laughed slightly at one of James's jokes, even if making a dignified attempt at hiding it. James for his part was beaming a huge smile. Kind of like an arrogant prat but… there was something sort of endearing about him. Even if Hermione didn't know that he was Harry's father; while she found him somewhat annoying in the sense that Fred and George sometimes vexated her, she was … happy for him.

So, they were starting to get together. James and Lily. Harry's parents. A bit of a sad smile formed on her face. They'd have such little time together before… Yeah; she was glad if nothing else, that they could be happy now. Even if Lily insisted for the moment on putting up a fight.

Finally, breakfast drew to a close, and the many students in the Great Hall scurried off in all directions for their first classes of the term. Which, for both Severus Snape and Hermione Granger happened to be Potions. A class which, though for slightly different reasons, they both thought they'd enjoy very much.

As it was NEWTS, the overall class size was somewhat smaller. Potions was, of the classes offered, not a favorite of many. Few had an appreciation for the subtle intricacies, the discipline and logic of the art. For sixth year students, of Slytherin, only Avery and Severus were present alongside three Slytherin females who, while Severus held a first name basis, was hardly close to. Lily, of course, was also present. Something Severus was painfully aware of as he walked in. But he steadied himself, trying his best to avoid giving any outward indication of just how unbearable it was to be that close, in the same room, with her, and yet know that never again would their friendship be…

By process of elimination, that left working with Avery. Which was more than fine with him. Of course, he'd give anything to be working with Lily again, like always in past years, but, if it wasn't to be, he might as well not dwell in it. Particularly in potions class. The knife through his heart as she'd first come walking in was pain enough. Thankfully she'd at least had the decency to stand far away with… her own kind.

Which, evidently included Remus Lupin and Hermione Granger. Lovely. Dumbledore's two favorites. Out to destroy him. The three made quite a group, didn't they?

Hermione for her part had been deliberately attempting to not catch Snape's gaze at present. It'd already been more than uncomfortable enough, watching him stare her down like that last night, almost predatory. The same way he always had. And so she'd engaged Remus and Lily in what seemed to be a very engaging conversation on the upcoming Quidditch games. Remus had remarked something about it being curious – but good – that Lily actually seemed excited for them this year. So… thought Hermione curiously… Did that mean that in past years Lily had disliked Quidditch? Hermione… supposed in some ways she was the same. She'd never had much personal interest in the sport but… a lot of her friends played, and then there was the whole matter of House pride and…

It was just… an interesting thought. It seemed that she and Lily might have a bit more in common than just being female Gryffindor muggleborn prefects (in her time at least). From first impressions at least, Lily seemed to be fairly studious and intelligent, a bit reserved, slightly impatient with foolery, but good natured after all. Maybe it was a bit vain, but Hermione could definitely think of drawing some parallels there.

But, cutting off Severus's broodings, and Hermione's comparisons, Slughorn addressed the class:

"A very good morning to all of you, and welcome to Advanced Potions. I trust everyone has brought the necessary supplies with them to class this morning?"

Hermione's hand shot up. Damn, this was feeling like déjà vu. "Sir," she began, "I don't have the textbook actually. Dumbledore said… you might have one for me?" She flushed a little bit at the end. If anything, Hermione hated to feel unprepared for class.

"Oh, yes. Very well." Slughorn, said reaching into his desk to retrieve one. "Miss Granger." He added a bit of a smile. "Dumbledore's told me a lot about you already. I'm quite interested to see how you'll do in my class."

"Now then," Slughorn continued, noticing neither the piercing look Snape shot Hermione nor the confident smile she wore in turn. "Today's lesson involves a rather advanced potion. The Draught of Living Death…" he said, annunciating with dramatic flair, a slight chuckle at the end. "Now then, can anyone tell me the ingredients to this potion?"

Two hands immediately shot up. Snape's predictably and… Hermione's.

"Ahh yes, Miss Granger?" Slughorn said with a nod.

"Wormwood, asphodel, valerian roots, a sloth's brain, and juice from a sopophorous bean, sir."

"Absolutely right!" Slughorn beamed, "And without even having her textbook in advance like all the other students. Truly brilliant. Five points to Gryffindor!"

Hermione had a rather large grin on her face. Snape was looking murderous.

"Now then," Slughorn continued, "As Miss Granger rightly stated, these are the ingredients necessary for the brewing of the potion. Though I'll warn you, the actual act of brewing is no simple act. Best of luck to all of you."

Snape was glowering. Showing off like that. In potions of all classes. His class. The one he was always the best in. After showing up obviously involved in some scheme of Dumbledore's, practically bragging about that much to the entire class. The nerve of that girl. Typical boneheaded, arrogant Gryffindor prat.

It took a lot of self-discipline to will himself to concentrate on the task at hand. Hermione … might have memorized the answer; or, hell, more likely Dumbledore himself gave it to her in advance, or… It didn't matter. Few if any actually had his aptitude, his theoretical understanding for the art. At best she might have memorized some text out of the book. He… knew better. His potion would prove better and that would be that, he thought slyly, tucking away into a corner to smash the sopophorous bean rather than cut it as the directions had said. Yeah, they'd all see how far her groundless arrogance would get her now…

Hermione for her part had something of a "secret weapon" up her sleeves. She'd … been angry with Harry for using it, reading it, being better than her because of it. But… now she could use it in turn on Snape. And honestly, could one think of a more deserving party? She certainly couldn't. Smiling a bit coyly, she too smashed the bean, extracting superior quality juice. Oh only to wait for the look on Snape's face when she had the best potion in class.

By the end of class, both had ended with stirring their potions seven times counter-clockwise, once clockwise. Almost at the same time, they each raised their hands for Slughorn to observe.

"Heavens, my oh my!" Slughorn had exclaimed, "Never before have I seen a potion more perfect than these two. I swear they're absolutely identical in perfection. I do suspect a single drop of either one would kill us all. Highest praises to both Mr. Snape and Miss Granger. You two truly do have great potential in this field I think. Fifteen points both to Slytherin and Gryffindor!"

Once more, Slughorn failed to notice the absolute venom with which the two of them met one another's eyes.