Author's Note: Thank you all for reviewing/adding/alerting my story. I'm sorry it's taking so long to update. And I'm sorry this chapter is so short. I'm attempting to set up what's going to happen next (of which I only have a vague idea at the moment). I also wanted to let you know that there is going to be awhile in between updates. I'm currently a third year medical student on my third year rotations, so other than work, my life revolves around eating and sleeping. I write when I can. So thank you to all of you who are following my story. I ask for you to be patient with me. I'll do my best not to leave you hanging.
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Disclaimer: I do not own any of the characters; they are the property of J.K. Rowling. If I did, I would not be over 100K in debt for medical school.
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There was a knock at the door. "Come in?" Hermione said uncertainly.
The door opened as Snape stepped into Hermione's room. "Dinner is ready, Miss Granger. Wash your hands and come into the kitchen."
"Yes, sir." Hermione put a final book away.
When Hermione walked into the kitchen, Snape was sitting at a small round table with two place settings. A jug of pumpkin juice, a carafe of coffee, and plates of pork chops, broccoli, and mashed potatoes sat in the center.
"I'm waiting, Miss Granger," Snape sneered.
She sat down and Snape passed her the plate of pork chops. "Thank you."
"You're welcome." It was all they said for the rest of the meal.
As soon as Snape finished eating, Hermione escaped to her room. Snape silently noted that she had only eaten half her pork chop and a few bites of broccoli. And that she didn't ask if he needed help cleaning up. Who was he—her servant? He'd have to remedy this issue the next day. If she was going to live with him, she'd have to learn to pull her weight, no matter what had been expected of her in the past.
He tidied up the kitchen, then went into the living room to read the latest volume of The British Association of Potions Research; Jules Bohr had written an article on a new way to improve the Blood Replenishing potion. After finishing the article, he reached for his current novel, A Tale of Two Cities, a muggle classic he'd always enjoyed.
At eleven o'clock, he stood up to go to bed, and noticed Hermione's light was still on. Honestly, he thought, wasn't the girl tired? He rapped on her door. "Miss Granger, go to bed."
. "Yes, sir," she replied. "Good night." She got ready for bed. There has to be a way out of this. It can't be Snape or no one. Perhaps the library has something, she thought, drifting off to sleep.