Author's note: It's been awhile... I really appreciate the reviews and the people who are still reading this story. No promises, but Hermione and Severus have been a little insistant as of late for me to work on their story. Obviously this is still not going to be in any way cannon. Basically everyone is alive, but Voldemort, much as it was when I first began the story... lol Anyway, enjoy please enjoy this chapter and I am sorry that I am one of those WIP authors... **Hangs head in shame**

Disclaimer: I do not own anything in the Harry Potter universe.

Snape watched Miss Granger very closely at breakfast the next morning. Nothing seemed to be amiss. If hadn't seen it with his own two eyes, he wouldn't believe that she was involved in an illicit affair. Well, he could nip that one in the bud. Sweeping away from the table, he left his breakfast half eaten and walked down to his dungeon. He sat down at his scarred desk and swept the feather quill out of his ink pot. Putting the quill to paper he penned a quick letter to Miss Granger. This should get her attention. He smirked.

Miss Granger:

I have been informed that you have better things to do with your time than follow instructions. You will meet me in my office tonight at 8 o'clock. We will be discussing your duties as an apprentice and as student. Do not be late.

Professor Snape

The letter arrived just as she was finishing breakfast. A small grey owl carried the letter. She thanked him and opened the letter. As she read the letter the people at the table began to notice her growing agitation.

"Look out, Harry," Seamus said nudging him with his elbow. "Hermione looks like she's going to blow her top."

"'Mione, what's wrong?" Harry looked bewildered as his normally calm friend's face went a dark shade of purple and she began sputtering.

"That…that…BASTARD! Not follow instructions? What am I doing if not doing everything I am supposed to? What is his problem?" With that she got up from the table, leaving the boys to stare at each other and wonder what the hell all that was about.

Hermione knew she had to calm down before her meeting with Snape. "Cannot kill the professor…cannot kill the professor," she chanted over and over again as she walked down the hall.

"Miss Granger, are you well?" She looked up and Professor Johnson was staring down at her looking very concerned.

"Oh, yes Professor. I just have a meeting tonight and I was planning on working on an essay, so I am heading to the library to work on that now."

"Um. Don't you have a class?"

She did. The thought of sitting through Binn's Advanced History of Magic class was not a promising thought. She was so angry that she might just stand up and yell at him. Tell him that it was unacceptable that they didn't talk about anything done in the last century more than a week or two, and most of that was centered on the final battle. She supposed that it made the finals easy for those who didn't care, but it was unacceptable for people to go through school and not know history. Those who did not learn from the past were doomed to repeat it.

"Oh—um. It's cancelled today."

He did not look convinced, but let her continue on her way.

The day progressed much as days seem to no matter how one feels and 8 o'clock loomed. Snape had spent part of his day planning a potion research assignment for the brilliant Miss Granger. As he had decided that he was going to leave Hogwarts at the end of the year, he needed to find a job. What better way to find a new job than to create a new area of Potions research… He smiled slightly to himself. If nothing else, Granger was excellent at research, and anything that she worked on, technically, belonged to him. For the year, she was his, and he planned to use her to his full advantage. There would be no time for her to cohort with people like Johnson or her two little friends. The only problem was that Snape hadn't yet decided what area of Potions that he wanted to research. Medical potions always had a good monetary turnout, but most of the sales of those were regulated by the Ministry, so he would be under a government contract. Cosmetic potions would really sell, but they wouldn't help a Potions Master make his name in the Potions community. He really didn't want to deal with defensive potions, after all the war had just ended. Maybe in a few years he would look into that avenue. The real question was what is more important: fame, fortune, or notoriety? No matter what decision he made Granger would be very busy.

In the library, Hermione was still fuming. She knew what she wanted to work on: A potion that would help with victims of Wizarding Alzheimer's. Or at least what was the wizarding equivalent to the muggle disease. In the wizarding world, they didn't even name it. Hermione believed that she could either find a cure, or find something that would at least halt the process of the disease. Losing herself was a fate that Hermione did not even want to dwell on. Sometimes, if she thought too long about the prospect of losing her memories, what shaped her as her, she would go into a depression that lasted for days. She had seen her grandfather slowly die from complications from this disease. She wanted to find a cure. Ideally she wanted a cure that she could use in both the muggle and the wizarding world, but she would start with the magical world. If she based her research first in magical theory, she could potentially find the muggle equivalent. She had been doing some research on the Obliviate charm and also on memory restoration potions. Usually these memory potions just dealt with memories that had been erased via a spell or another potion, but Hermione was certain that there would be a way to bridge the magical and natural and come up with some sort of solution.

She had been looking forward to discussing this project with Professor Snape, but he didn't even seem interested in whether or not she had completed the list of potions that he had set out for her. She brushed a lock of curly brown hair behind her ear and glanced at her watch. 7:45 time to head down to the dungeons—time to deal with him.