Beginning

Disclaimer: I own none of the characters found within this story and none of the places. The only thing I own is the writing itself.

A/N: I've added a Character Death warning in order to be safe, for, although we do not see any death, there is mention of many important characters in the actual books being dead. You are hereby forewarned.

Chapter One: Beginning

She could have lived a thousand years and never understood him. To Hermione Granger, once student of Hogwarts and Head Girl, Severus Snape was an enigma. Harry and Ron might have considered him an anathema, but to her he had always been a puzzle she couldn’t help trying to solve. And he was one more link to the past, a past that was swiftly being forgotten by all except those who had experienced it first hand. Five years seemed like a short amount of time for such monumental acts to be forgotten, but the first year students now had only been six when the Last Battle had taken place. They could hardly be expected to remember something that had happened when they were only children.

She still saw the marks of it, however. Albus Dumbledore would never again look at her with his twinkling blue eyes; those fires had finally burned out after two months in St. Mungo’s. Minerva McGonagall had fallen at the end of the battle, dying protecting two students who had been knocked unconscious. And, hardest of all for Hermione, her two best friends, Harry and Ron, had both died, victims of a Death Eater’s last-ditch attempt at escape. Snape had killed the man, but not before it had been too late. Hermione herself had nearly died; apparently, she had Severus to thank for her rescue. He had, according to numerous witnesses, returned to the battlefield and, after nearly fifteen minutes, emerged bearing her body in his arms.

“It was incredible!” Ginny Weasley had said when Hermione had asked for further information regarding her rescue. “He just came out of the battle smoke like….like….some dark avenging angel. He put you down on a blanket then turned around, reached out, grabbed Madam Pomfrey by the wrist and pulled her over to you. She got to work right away, but he wouldn’t leave until he was sure that you were fine. It was odd to see him so concerned about someone.”

Hermione had checked the story with Poppy Pomfrey when she had run into the nurse a few weeks later. It was only to satisfy her curiosity and to hear the story from a different point of view, she had told herself, not because she didn’t believe Ginny. Madam Pomfrey’s story had been almost exactly the same as the red-haired girl’s, perhaps differing a bit in the descriptions but otherwise eerily similar. But the one thing both tales had lacked was the Potions master’s motive for saving her.

So for five years Hermione had been trying to talk to Severus Snape, merely to assuage her curiosity, she assured herself. Every time she had visited Hogwarts---which was not very often seeing as she had had few reasons to do so---she had tried to pull him aside to speak to him. And every time he was called away to deal with something before they had even finished exchanging greetings.

Not anymore, she thought to herself, the hint of a feral grin on her lips. Professor Flitwick, the new Headmaster, had Owled her two weeks ago with a request that she come fill the position of Transfiguration Professor. Hogwarts had managed to fill all of the empty positions by the beginning of the school year, even after all of the deaths from that last battle in July. Many of the new professors, however, had been older witches and wizards and were now retiring, or would be in the next few years. So Professor Flitwick had sent out owls to those he knew could handle a teaching position at Hogwarts.

Hermione had replied immediately, affirming that she would be willing to teach at Hogwarts. And, within the week, the owl had returned, bearing a contract that needed only her signature. She had read it carefully, three times, signed it then, as it had instructed her, cast a simple charm to triplicate it. After giving the owl a bowl of water and a few Owl Treats, she had handed it two of the copies and sent it on its way. She had stored the third copy in a spell-protected chest she kept especially for such important documents.

She had wondered how Flitwick had known that she had just finished her last job as a Transfiguration master’s apprentice. Nearly five years of aiding in and observing many different spells had lent her expertise beyond what she had ever hoped to have when in Hogwarts. This, she supposed, was why Flitwick had offered her the position. That and the fact that she had received the highest NEWT scores of any witch in Hogwarts history.

Now she stood in her old bedroom, looking around at the mementos of her youth. She had always loved her parents’ house, had always enjoyed coming back for the few months she had between her years at Hogwarts. Yet she had always enjoyed returning to the school just as much, for part of her revelled in the learning atmosphere that was prevalent there. Over the years, she had accustomed herself to the animate portraits and moving staircases until she almost considered them normal. And in the wizarding world, she knew, they were.

Hermione sighed to herself and returned her attention to her packing. In two days, she would be leaving her parents and moving into the chambers provided for her in the school. They would be hers until she chose to retire. Two days, she thought to herself. Two days until I go back to Hogwarts and then a month until the students return. I only hope that I’m ready for them.