Chapter 1

I do not own these characters. No infrigement of rights intented.

This story will eventually become very adult: minors, please do not read.

Severus Snape slowly became aware of two women crying nearby. He found they were standing over his place of death. It was death, wasn't it? He wondered. He'd only had brief bouts of awareness, but he'd always been in the same place. He could see that it was the old witch McGonagall...and was that Hermione Granger? What was she doing here? They both shed some tears and then they went away, and his thoughts faded into nothingness again.

Again he became aware. How long had it been since his death...a minute, a year, or 100 years? He realized he had no awareness of time. There was a woman standing over the same spot, but the darkness of the bloodstain had faded. She wasn't tall, but she was comely. Her long, dark hair fell in cascades around her shoulders, and she had the bearing of a professional woman. Who was she, and why had she disturbed his sleep? Was the rest of his existence going to be spent trapped in the Shrieking Shack, only aware when someone gave him a thought or visited? No matter when he was aware whether someone was there or not, he seemed confined to this old place. "Is this hell?" he mused.

She seemed to be shedding tears, sniffling and wiping them off with the sleeve of her robe. They were professor's robes. He filed that away as interesting and watched as she moved slightly to the side. A small gasp escaped her lips, and she walked over the uneven boards of the floor and bent down. He appreciated the rear view, watching as she dug into a crack in the floor and then held up a wand.

"That's my wand," he thought. He could feel his nonexistent fingers itch to hold it. He watched as she held it up and then cleaned the wood with the hem of her robes.

"Sir," she said aloud into the dusty, deserted, room, "I promise I will take good care of it. Thank you for the things you taught me. Thank you for showing me the joy of Potions."

Severus was puzzled. Who was this beautiful woman? She was obviously a former student, but why would she come here, and what would she want his wand for? She straightened as if to leave, and he tried to speak, tried to stop her from taking his wand. It somehow seemed important for him to keep it here with him. But he could not speak. He must be a ghost, but the Hogwarts ghosts were visible. Why wasn't he? Why could no one ever see him?

He was astonished that when she left the house, he did too. He was drawn out into the clear, warm night with her, and he felt as if a string was attached, like someone might drag a balloon. Am I some how locked to my wand? That idea made him think as they moved along. When she reached the gate, Filch let her in. So it hadn't been that many years since he had "died." Filch really hadn't changed much; maybe his back was stooped a bit more, but that was it. For a Squib, he is holding up well, Severus reflected.

The door to the castle swung aside, and there stood McGonagall. The woman looked positively ancient. Her wrinkles had wrinkles, and she used a cane to walk. "Hermione!" she cried out with joy, opening her arms to embrace the young woman.

"Hermione Granger? This was Granger? Looking more carefully at the woman, he could see now in the light that, yes, it was Granger. She must now be at least 35. More than 15 years had passed since he'd last seen her. He watched as they linked arms, and Hermione went with the old woman up to her office.

He seemed drawn along and found this period of awareness to be very stimulating. Would he fade into oblivion again? Would he find himself back in the Shrieking Shack, or would he now stay with Hermione or wherever she placed his wand?

A house-elf brought tea as the two women caught up on gossip. Ron Weasley had become coach of a Quidditch team Severus had never heard of. He'd never married and seemed happy to play the field. More than Potter, that boy had always raised his hackles. He had been disgusted when he'd found Weasley and Hermione Granger in a clinch in some dark corner their sixth year. He pushed those thoughts away and listened in. Potter was in Ireland on a case for the Aurors. His wife Ginny was at home with their two children. The second of the Potter children would be coming to Hogwarts this year. Merlin, not another Potter! He suddenly wished for his Shrieking Shack.

Severus turned his attention back to the two women. McGonagall was saying, "I've had your school things put in the classroom, but we've had to make other arrangements for quarters. I'm sorry, but no one has been able to break through his wards. After all these years, they have stayed strong; usually after a wizard dies, his wards will fail, but not these. You can try, too, if you like; but I'm afraid you will have little luck. The entrance is through the storage room on the back wall."

Hermione said with regret, "I was really hoping to use them." She sat straighter and leaned forward with interest. "You mean, all his things are still there?"

McGonagall nodded. "Yes, as far as we know, no one has gotten in."

Hermione got a determined look in her eye. "It will give me something to do in my spare time."

He found himself confused. Were they talking about him? Was that why he was awake and here? It seemed that people remembering him gave him life. He shuddered to think that only when a person seemed to be thinking of him did he come alive. It was like an old Muggle movie he'd seen when he was a child. Sherry Templer, wasn't it? No... Shirley Temple, something about a bird and happiness. When the child thought of her grandparents, they woke and were aware and alive again. But he had nobody. He didn't seem even to be anything but thought.

McGonagall seemed to be tiring. "This will be my last year, Hermione. I will pass my post on. Flitwick has agreed to take over. There was a time when I hoped Severus Snape would be here to take his place as my replacement. But alas..." She sighed. "Go on, Professor Granger. Go see your classroom. I'll see you at dinner."

Hermione hugged the old witch and left the office and headed down to the dungeon.

Severus found himself bristling. "Was this chit going to teach Potions in his classroom?" He found he was drawn along. He had to admit this was better than the Shrieking Shack. It was good to see the castle again. This had been his home for many years. He had never been able to enjoy it before; there had always been the threat of Voldemort calling him. There was never a time when he wasn't on edge with fear. He might have even enjoyed teaching had he not been a spy and had so much riding on his being successful at his job as a spy. The teaching had sometimes been a distraction, but his life had always been on the line.

Granger had arrived at the door to the Potion classroom and pushed it open slowly. She took a deep breath and held it. Then she let it out as she stepped into the room and the door shut behind her. "Sir, I hoped you would be proud of me someday, but you will never see what I have accomplished. I tried so hard to show you how much I wanted to learn from you, but it only made you hate me all the more." She went over to the desk she and Harry had shared and ran her hand over it.

Snape suddenly realized she had been talking to him. It astonished him that she would even think of him, but then again she was coming back into his world, his place that he'd lived in for so long. She was taking a position he had held when she was here; he thought it only natural that she would think of him. He felt a twinge of regret. Had he been unfair; had he not handled his brightest student of all time correctly? He'd used his curtness as a weapon to challenge her to be better and do better. But she had not seen that; instead she had felt ridiculed and berated.

"You were hard, sir, but you did make me learn more than any other teacher I'd ever known. You did not know it, but I love Potions." Then she giggled to herself and said, "Granger, he's not here; you're standing here talking to the walls." She went up to the desk and ran her hand over the wood, and then after a short hesitation, she sat down at the desk. "Silly, I know someone else has been teaching here for years, but you seem so close, Severus. I hope you don't mind me using your first name; we are colleagues of a sort now." She laughed again. "It's an old habit my I talking to myself. Since Crookshanks passed, I forget he's not there to talk to. I guess this makes me eccentric, but I hate being alone with my thoughts. I think I will pretend I'm talking to you, sir. How would you like that?"

Snape stepped closer. "I'd like it just fine," he said, actually hearing a whisper come from his mouth.

Hermione shrieked, stood up, and took a step back. "No one has reported that you'd taken up residence here, but I could have sworn I heard you." Then she laughed again, a bit hysterically. "Ghosts have never frightened me, but invisible ones, well, that's a new experience. It's probably an overactive imagination." She walked away, and Severus followed.

Had she really heard him? He found that a bit exciting. Could he learn to communicate with her? Was she so receptive because she had been talking and thinking of him so much? He needed to let someone know he was here. Somehow he felt the need to no longer be free of it all. Death was very lonely, trapped as he was between worlds. He found he no longer wanted to be forgotten. Things could be worse; after all, she was a beautiful woman.

She went to the door of the storage room and opened it. "Ugh, it's full of dust and cobwebs. You would roll over in your grave if you had one, sir." Her voice held a bit of sadness when she said the last few words. She seemed to get angry with herself as she scrubbed tears from her eyes.

Severus moved closer and was amazed to see real tears for him. Was she just emotionally overloaded from something else in her life, or did she truly care what had happened to him?

She walked to the back of the storeroom and reached out with her wand. A charm she cast showed his wards still glowing strong.

Severus was puzzled by that, too. What McGonagall had said was true: A dead wizard's wards always weakened after a matter of months, and it had been years. He had never had any power that was more extraordinary than any other wizard of his age. That was curious. He filed it away to think on it later. He was too interested to see what Hermione would do next.

Severus watched as she reached out to touch the wall. "Now, what would Severus Snape use for a password? What was the only thing we know of in his life that meant something to him?" she puzzled as she watched the shimmer of the ward. "It would have to have something to do with Lily. But McGonagall knows that, doesn't she? Maybe she didn't know. After all, it was from Snape's own mind that the memories came. But then we did have to share them with the Winzengamot. That was the only way to get his name cleared of the espionage charges," she murmured to herself.

What? I'm cleared. Bloody Hell, I'm cleared and stuck in an afterlife of hell, he thought sadly.

"I would take good care of your things, sir. All those books going to waste," she said, regret tinted her voice. "I know you had wonderful books." Hermione laughed. "I can't help but talk to you here in these rooms. I wish you had come back here to haunt the place. There is so much I could still learn from you."

Snape watched her puzzle as she stood in silence, and then she blushed.

What the hell was the bloody chit thinking?

She whispered, "Lily." The wards fluctuated, but nothing happened.

"Well I am a romantic, I guess. My true love Lily... My one true love Lily...." Neither produced any change. "Lily, my love," she tried.

Suddenly, he wanted to see his things, too, so he whispered at the same time, "Lily, my love," and the wards shimmered and went down.

Hermione turned around and looked behind her. "Now I swear I heard you, sir. If you are here, why can't you show yourself? I doubt my saying the words would have made a difference. You would have set them to voice recognition only."

She reached out her hand, and for a moment Severus could feel warmth close to him. She pulled her hand back as if stung. "Coldness, there is something here." She glared at the space before her. "If this is really you," she said in anger, "you're just as much an ass in death as you were in life. What purpose does it serve to hide?" She turned away, dismissing him, and pushed the door open.

Snape was astonished at her sudden anger and frustrated that he could not tell her he had no control over his invisibility. It seemed suddenly important to him that she know he was there. He rushed toward her and actually touched her warmth, and she shuddered and jumped away.

"Please don't do that again. I don't understand this game. If you are a ghost, show yourself." When only emptiness continued to be around her, she dismissed him with a wave of her hand and a harrumph and stepped into his rooms.

Unable to do anything but follow, he was pulled into the rooms himself.

Hermione found herself in a small sitting room with a fireplace. It was surprisingly ordered and cozy, and there was a nice high-back chair facing the fireplace and a table with a book. She moved closer to look at the pages. Furtherfield's Potions, the book pages were labeled. Hermione gasped; this book had been out of print for 40 years and was hard to find. She reached out and touched the page almost reverently.

Snape noted, looking around, that dust covered everything, but he could see nothing had changed. The book he had been reading was still lying open on the table by his chair. And there was a empty glass of whiskey stained with gold of the fluid that had long since evaporated.

He watched as Hermione touched the book. At least she will value and take care of these things, he thought to himself.

She drew her wand and sent out a number of Scourgify spells to vanish the dust as she walked through the rooms. She looked briefly at the little kitchen and vanished numerous dishes with dried food on them. He assumed she would have her own things. He had never been one to cook much or wash up after meals.

Hermione moved into the bedroom, and before even really looking, she cleaned the place with her wand. The bed curtains needed some repair, having fallen apart on one side. She reached out with a trembling hand and touched his nightshirt, which laid across the bed.

He had thrown it there the last time he'd been called to Voldemort's side. Snape gaped at her as she gathered it up and held it against her and sniffed the fabric, like one would a lost lover's shirt.

Hermione breathed in. "There's still a faint scent of nutmeg and brown sugar. I always liked the cologne you wore," she whispered. She ducked away. What if he could hear her? Then she thought that it didn't really matter one way or another if he was in the room. He was still dead, and she didn't care that he knew she cared about him. Maybe in some way it would make his afterlife better.

She went to the fireplace, grabbed a hand full of Floo powder, and then stuck her head into the flames. "Minerva?" she called.

Severus could hear the headmistress reply, "What, you got into his rooms?"

Hermione laughed. "Yes, I swear he's here over my shoulder. It's like he just stepped out."

"Well I'll be," the old witch exclaimed. "You are resourceful."

"Maybe it's just that I have studied his memories more than most. He was very fond of Harry's mom."

"I see," the old woman replied. "There is no one to give his things to, so you may do what you want with them. I'm sure there are many books and papers there that will interest you. Do be careful, my dear. There's bound to be some dark magic items there as well."

"I was wondering about his things. Thank you, I will take good care of them. Can you have the house-elves bring my things down here? I will be staying. The place just needed a good dusting," Hermione explained.

Minerva said, "I'll have them bring fresh linens and towels. Let me know if you want anything else or need anything removed. If I wasn't so old, I'd come down there for a look myself. But those drafty old dungeon rooms play havoc with my arthritis. I'm not feeling well. I'm going to have dinner in my rooms tonight. I'll see you in the morning. Goodnight, my dear."

"Good night, Headmistress," Hermione said. She turned to look around, quite happy with the afternoon's events. This was exactly where she had wanted to be, and she couldn't believe her fortune. All his things were still in place. She said aloud, "It's too late for us, Severus, but I can still take care of your things. Perhaps there will be information enough for a book here in your things. People should know the man you really were."

Too late? Where was this girl's head? Did she have some notion that they could have had a relationship? He shook his head sadly. Maybe she was a little off. The war had been terrible. She didn't seem off, except when talking to him, but she seemed to have some romantic notion about him.

She went to check out the bathroom, and Severus discovered to his relief that he was not drawn inside with her, but he was pressed against the door. This spell gave him about a 15 ft radius from his wand. He waited patiently by the door and then heard crying. What's wrong now? he thought. Being tied to Hermione Granger was going to be very trying, and if he had to admit it to himself, interesting. It was better than sitting in the Shrieking Shack or being in oblivion.

She finally came from the bathroom with a newly scrubbed face and red-rimmed eyes. She looked around the room with an expectant look. "I wish you were here, sir. I have little to look forward to, and I would love to have picked your brain. The discussions we could have had." Then she said, looking toward the fireplace, "The dinners before the fire... the long nights..."

A knock at the door interrupted her. When she called, "Come," house-elves poured in the door, bringing her things and quickly changing the bed linens. They seemed to have their own brand of magic because everything shone much brighter when they poured back out of the room. Snape had been watching them scurry about, grinding his nonexistent teeth. House-elves were necessary, but he could not abide the silly creatures.

Hermione went down to the main hall for dinner, and Severus was pulled along. He had expected her to take his wand and place it on the table or something, but instead she had fashioned a special pocket in her robes and placed the wand there. He had to admit he'd rather be along for the ride than wondering what was happening as he sat in his rooms.

The hall was a madhouse of students, some looking little older than babies. Had they always looked this young? he wondered. He seemed to be floating somewhat behind Granger, and he was surprised to see Sybil staring up at him with her big, bulbous looking eyes.

"Madam Granger, I sense him near. Oh, he's here. Don't you see him?" She hurried away, taking a seat far from Hermione.

Hagrid, who was much greyer and seemed to have grown a bit smaller, asked, "What was she on about? The daft old woman."

Hermione smiled at him. "Who knows; the woman has always given me the willies."

She glanced at the old Divination teacher and found she was still being stared at. Hermione turned away and ignored her. She confided in Hagrid, one of her dearest and oldest friends, "I found Snape's wand in the Shrieking Shack. She probably just senses that there is something of his here. I know now that she gave the prophesy of Harry and Voldemort, so I know she has some real sense of divination. I just really find her creepy. That prophesy cost people their lives," she said, thinking of Sirius Black.

"Well, she certainty is on about something." Hagrid sniffed and stabbed a huge piece of meat from his plate. "Best stay clear of her."

Snape was feeling just the opposite. What if the woman could see him? He also had found her creepy and had tried to avoid her when he was alive. She'd cornered him at a dance years ago when he'd just started working at Hogwarts and was kissing him before he could stop her. Since then, he'd given her the widest berth possible. Hmmmm, if she could see him, she might be able hear to him. He called out to her, "Sybil." The daft woman screeched, got up, and ran from the room.

Hermione glanced her way and then shook her head. "I think the woman's gone bonkers." But her eyes slid sideways, looking at the empty space around her. She had felt something earlier. But how could Snape be here? Why wouldn't he be like any of the castle ghosts? They were there for all to see and hear. Was there some sort of signature of Snape in the wand she carried? She decided not to tell anyone else, and she figured Hagrid wouldn't have a reason to talk about it. Likely he'd already forgotten. She remembered how good he'd been at keeping secrets when they were kids and groaned inwardly. Oh, well, the damage was done now. She snickered to her herself; dare she try a memory-altering charm on him? No... she would just let it play out. She tackled her dinner and brought Hagrid up-to-date on what Ron and Harry were up to.

Severus groaned. Would he have to listen to the same stories about Weasley and Potter over and over? He was definitely in hell.

Hermione returned to Snape's dungeon room and took the time to unpack her trunk and bags. She put away her things. She shrunk most of his personal clothing, placed it in one of her bags, and stashed it in a closet.

She really didn't have a lot, Snape observed. Her items, though very well kept and clean, were somewhat threadbare, like many of his things had been. She kept his cloak in the closet, and the night shirt was still lying across the bed.

She eyed his books with longing but had already begun to yawn. So, to his great surprise, she took his night shirt into the bathroom and came back wearing it.

She said to the air as she crawled into bed, "If you are there, Severus, you may think me mad. But I had more than just a schoolgirl's crush on you. I had planned to speak up after the war, but you were gone." She settled herself against the pillows and closed her eyes.

Severus moved closer to look down at her. She was a beautiful witch with her hair fanned out about the pillows. So, she had fancied herself in love with him; he was gobsmacked. This young, beautiful woman thought herself lost to the world of love. As he watched, she wrapped her arms around herself and pulled his night shirt up to her nose and breathed in its scent. A tear squeezed out of her closed eyes.

Severus felt himself fall into that oblivion that he was so used to.

Thank you, Lisa, my beta. I appreciate your work very much. Thank you for going on this new adventure with me.

Becky, thank you for pre-reading AGOAC and making comments. I appreciate your support.

I added the manip on 3/24/2010. I want to thank Becky for the beautiful frame she added to my manip.