The First Battle of Hogwarts has been won and Voldemort is in hiding, biding his time until he is ready to attack again. The Order are hunting horcruxes in secret; Severus Snape has found one and he plans to destroy it. How much of herself is Hermione willing to sacrifice to help him? And what - or who - else will they destroy in the process?

It is essentially a hurt/comfort story, with romance, angst, friendship; a little humour and a little darkness.

AN: I'm about ten years late to the party, but this my first ever attempt at a fanfic so please read and review it; I need attention to live.

It is complete (around 100k) and I will tentatively upload each chapter with trembling fingers, so like... please be nice? I will cry.

Nah, I'm kidding. If you hate it, please let me know and I will try to arrange the return of your time. No promises.

CW for non-con mentions. There are also some character deaths. However, HEA is guaranteed because, let's be honest, Deathly Hallows was traumatic.

** I don't think I need to state that I do not own these characters since I am not our Lord and Saviour JK Rowling. If I was, I would have a much lovelier house, a much larger ego, and my boy Snape would still be alive because I'm not CRUEL, JOANNE.

Now let's see if I can figure out how to post this thing.

- FF

1. DIRTY BLOOD

Hermione walked through the hallowed halls of the castle that had once been her sanctuary of seven years. Hogwarts was home from home, even now. Three years had passed since the First Battle of Hogwarts, as it would come to be known, and her return to its fortification meant that the world was beginning to make sense again. The school had been all but destroyed and the professors and students had worked tirelessly to fix what had been broken. It was a shame that no manner of spells could fix a broken spirit.

With time and connection, healing came, but the battle and loss had done irreparable damage. The wizarding world was to carry on as normal, Albus Dumbledore had ordered, as if anything would ever be the same again. Still, they all had to play their part in the act of normality, lest He Who Must Not Be Named strike again before they were ready to repel him. And they would be ready this time, wouldn't they?

When Albus had suggested that Hermione work underneath Horace Slughorn, Potions Master at Hogwarts, she had thought the idea ludicrous. However, she had been prepping with Slughorn over the summer, and found, much to her delight, that she still had a knack for potions, and she might actually enjoy herself in the position.

Albus had opened the school up to numerous young witches and wizards like Hermione, in order to assist the staff with their work, but also, regretfully, to act as their replacement if indeed such a time came that they were required. As a member of the inner circle of The Order, Hermione knew more than she'd ever bargained for. She had been let in on a secret; knowledge that You Know Who was far more powerful than any of them had ever anticipated. They had each been assigned their role and Hermione had, in comparison to some, been lucky with her assignment at Hogwarts. Slughorn was a good man for the most part; eager to help her to learn, and someone she was beginning, in spite of herself, to consider a friend.

Even with what you might consider a cold war going on, Hermione felt safer than she had in a long time. Even though these walls had been brought to the ground, again they stood around her, taller and stronger than before. The strongest part of something is always where it was once broken and has since been repaired. Hermione, therefore, was strongest in her heart, which had broken thrice over during the battle. There is only so much heartache a person can take before your mind starts to compensate, and Hermione feared that she had reached her limits.

There had been so much loss - she had lost many friends and trusted teachers; she had lost her parents, for all intents and purposes. But the hardest loss to bear, it would transpire, was the loss of her relationship with Ron. Not necessarily because she had loved him, and of course she had - desperately - but because in turn she had lost her best friends and her family. The change to her relationship with the Weasleys, particularly Ginny (and as such, Harry, her new husband) had been a cut deeper than any war wound.

In spite of all that had changed, still Hogwarts was here for her. It was a refuge- still home from home. In fact now, it was home. She had taken residence in small quarters by the Gryffindor common room. Dumbledore had enchanted the hallway so that it now held rooms for many of the 'underling' staff members, including her unlikely new best friend, Lavender Brown. All in all, the world was righting itself. She and Slughorn had gone through their basic training programme and she was now beginning to perfect her craft.

It was exciting to finally be doing something tangible, after four years of being a part of the 'Order Protection' group founded by Molly Weasley. That had entailed a lot of sitting around, and thinking and plotting and praying that everybody would live to see another sunrise. Her new position, as Potions Aide, was far more fulfilling. It was, in spite of the dangerous circumstances that surrounded the creation of the position, the most precious thing Hermione had in her life. And it would be all but perfect, if it wasn't for the constant involvement of the surly and irritable Defense Against The Dark Arts teacher - the tormentor of her childhood - Professor Severus Snape.

"Granger!" he snapped, as she entered the potions classroom "Where have you been? You are five minutes late."

"Three minutes late, Professor" she corrected, and took her seat at the desk nearest Snape, who stood at the front, imposing and terrifying, just as he had all those years ago.

"Irrelevant. You are still tardy and I will not stand for it."

"I have been late once, in all these weeks. I am not your student any more, Professor, you cannot chastise me for poor time-keeping."

He scoffed.
"Tell me, Granger... I know you were raised by muggles, but surely it is considered rude, even in their culture, to show up late for a meeting with someone who is going out of their way to help you with something, only to then disrespect them."

"I suppose so."

"Right, then. Tell me, Miss Granger, what is the single most crucial ingredient of a sleeping draught?"

Hermione's face fell to one of concentration, and then she raised an eyebrow in doubt.
"Valerian Sprigs?"

"No. There is no one single ingredient that is more crucial than any other... in any potion. Each and every component has its place. Each is necessary. If you had perhaps listened the last time we spoke, you would have known that. I am disappointed, but I cannot say... surprised."

"That was a trick question!"

"Indeed. One you should have spotted a mile away."

"You'll be docking ten points from Gryffindor, I suppose?"

"I am growing tired of your cheek, Granger. So if you are quite done?..."

"Not really", she mumbled.

Snape moved towards the cauldron on Slughorn's desk.
"Come here."

Hermione obeyed without a second of conscious thought. She was twenty two years old, and yet she still, on her most primary level, wanted to please her teacher. At least some things had remained the same after the battle.

"Brew me a sleeping draught", he ordered.

"Okay."

"Here" he said and handed her a hand-written recipe; black spiky ink on torn parchment.

She took it and put it on the desk. It was hardly a recipe, she thought. There was very little instruction, limited timing and measurement information, and most of the listed ingredients had been scribbled through.

"I have redacted some of the information. Consider this a test. Anyone can follow a basic recipe, with the exception of course of the woeful Mister Longbottom... you remember him, I assume?"

"You mean Professor Longbottom" she corrected.

"Herbology professor or not, to me he will always be the incompetent fool who destroyed many a good cauldron."

"I should be able to brew it, I've made it before" she said reverting the subject to the matter at hand and away from Neville.

He may well not have been the most gifted potioneer, but he was her friend and her loyalty would not waver, even if she happened to agree, in part, with the miserable vampire's sentiments.

"I do not want you to recall it from memory" he said "I want you to brew it as you think it should be brewed."

"I think it should be brewed as the creator saw fit."

Snape scowled at her.
"You do not think that you should alter recipes; perhaps improve them?"

"No" she said, definitively. "I would leave the tinkering to those with an authority to do so. I don't think that we should fix what isn't broken..."

"How positively uninspired you are, Miss Granger. Has it not occurred to you that when Slughorn retires and you become Potions Mistress at one of the most well-respected institutions in the wizarding world, that you will be considered such an authority?"

"I - err... no," Hermione said, and her face fell, "that hadn't occurred to me."

He was right. He was always bloody right.

"It is not enough that you learn how to brew. You must also know why you brew" he said, sharply.

"What the hell does that mean? I assume you are looking for a response more complex than... 'we brew sleeping draught to aid sleep, Sir'."

"Think on it, Granger. I know that somewhere in that empty head of yours there must be two brain cells you can rub together to figure it out."

'Why' not 'how'?

Honestly, if she hadn't understood each word she might have thought he was speaking a foreign language. Snape handed her the cauldron, pushed his 'recipe' towards her and gestured to the shelves of potions without a word. He sat on his old chair in front of his old desk, grabbed a book, flipped it open and began to read.

"Professor Snape-" Hermione began.

"In silence, Granger!"

Hermione understood that she was on her own. It wasn't like this with Slughorn. He guided her through each task he set her. He was truly a mentor, and he treated her, for the most part, like his equal. It was so refreshing to learn from him now, as a prospective replacement, because he was interested in her far more than he had when she was a member of the Slug Club. Now he made time for her, alone, and she learned a great deal from him.

She didn't learn anything when she was with Snape, except how much he resented his involvement in her training. However, he didn't really need to be involved, did he? He wasn't Potions Master anymore.

Of course, Slughorn was getting old, and he had requested that Severus share some of the workload, but when had Snape ever done anything if it didn't directly benefit him? Perhaps, he didn't so much resent being a part of her training, as he resented her being offered the post in the first place. He probably thought it was shameful that his old post had been given to a mudblood.

Oh she knew all too well who he had been - who he was still, albeit now on Dumbledore's orders - a Death Eater.

Lupin had once told her what Snape had thought about muggleborns. She knew what he had said to Harry's mother when they were still teenagers; Lily, who was supposedly his friend. She knew all about his opinion. Yes, that was it, she thought - that is what he truly resents. The esteemed position of Potions Master, had gone to someone who did not deserve it because they were born with dirty blood.

On the first day of the school year, Hermione settled onto the Support Staff table behind the teachers in the great hall. She sat with Lavender to her left, and Susan Bones to her right. Beside Susan was Katie Bell. Hermione had always felt that she just didn't get on with girls her own age. She certainly hadn't held much esteem for Lavender in their school years. However, circumstances changed, and Hermione found herself at the epicentre of something rather wonderful. Four young women who supported and encouraged one another.

Hermione relished these moments with Lavender, as she always had a tale to tell of her exploits into Hogsmeade or she would join in with Susan and Katie and talk of some new drama that had unfolded in the hospital wing where they were training. This evening, Lavender was talking about the gruesome wound she'd had to dress on Remus Lupin's arm. The Order tried to avoid St. Mungo's as much as they could, in case somebody untoward became suspicious of their exploits, and so the Hogwarts infirmary had become their very own war hospital. Not too much happened, but when it did, the girls needed to be there to learn how to heal for when the time came that much would happen.

"There was broken glass in it and it oozed with... okay, it's dinner time so I won't go into detail but... oh it was gross, you should have seen it." Lavender said this with a face of fright and disgust, that Hermione recognized as a melodramatic play to improve the quality of the story.

Lavender always knew how to spin a tale, and it had been such fun to listen to them. Hermione glanced over to the teachers table, as Professor Dumbledore got to his feet and took his place at the podium. Hermione gestured over to Albus and Lavender pursed her lips.

"Fine. I'll catch you up later", she said.

Albus Dumbledore commanded the room with an air of authority that he had never once needed to try to achieve. In all her years of schooling, his mere presence at the head of the hall, had served to quiet the children to a low hum and the moment he would open his mouth, the room would drop to absolute silence. It was a gift that someone like Hermione would have killed to have. Nobody took her seriously, any more. She was well-respected for the most part among her old teachers, but The Order members seemed hardly to give her a second look nowadays. That was partly because she had struggled to regain her composure after the battle. She had fallen into what muggles might call depression.

Sometimes people just crack, that is what she had to tell herself.

Harry and Ron carried on as usual, because that was what Dumbledore required, but Hermione had never truly managed to get back on track. She was still bright and brilliant, she was still brave and loyal, but she wasn't as happy or vibrant; she wasn't quite as passionate or fearless. She was a little lost.

"It's okay that you're lost..." Lavender said later that evening.

Katie Bell sat on Lavender's armchair with her feet propped up on the dresser. The mirror was adorned with those lovely moving photographs. Even eleven years in the magical world hadn't quite adjusted Hermione to how, well, magical, it all was. There were images of Lavender with her parents, and a couple with her sister. There were more still of Lavender with Dean Thomas, her ex-boyfriend, and truest love. There was one picture, in pride of place at the top of the mirror, Lavender and Parvati ice-skating atop the Great Lake. Hermione knew that Lavender missed her friend terribly, even though she was in the very same building.

Some relationships didn't survive the battle, she reminded herself.

Lavender jumped on the bed next to Hermione and threw her arm around her shoulder.
"... You've been through a lot. You're doing your best and you're doing so much better" she said, with a smile so warm that Hermione almost believed her.

"Hermione, none of us are who we used to be" Katie said, dropping her legs and swinging around to face her. "We're all surviving the best way we can. War is bound to change us. Look at Mad-Eye, I'm sure he was a perfectly normal gentleman once upon a time and you know what he's like now."

"CONSTANT VIGILANCE!" Susan crowed in her best Moody imitation, as she stepped out of the bathroom. "... Sorry I was eavesdropping."

Susan tugged out a pair of extendable ears tucked in her sleeve, purchased from Weasleys' Wizard Wheezes. Although it just belonged to one Weasley now didn't it?

"They're right though, Granger", Susan said. "You had a hard time of it, you didn't cope very well. So what? That's to be expected, but you came out stronger. Look at you now, you've managed to survive Snape for six whole weeks and not a single unforgivable has been uttered."

Hermione laughed. It felt so good to laugh; to be with friends.

"I think he's getting worse", Hermione said drily. "Every time I think that he's going to impart some of his optimum wisdom, he just starts talking in riddles and expects me to understand what the hell he's chatting about."

"Like what?" Lavender asked.

"He says that I need to understand 'why' we brew a potion, not just 'how' we brew a potion... does that make sense to any of you?"

Susan flopped on the bed in a seat drop and then threw her head back onto the downy pillow.
"Well that's just nonsense, Granger... I'd bet that he's messing with you" she said.

"Ha! That's about right" Katie said

"Seriously though, are you doing okay?"
The question came from Lavender.

"He must be hard to work with... are you coping?"

"Yes", Hermione said decidedly, "I can hold my own with Professor Snape."

Lavender gave her the side eye.
"What was that look?"

"What look?" Hermione asked, innocently.

"That little glint in your eyes just then when you said you could hold your own again him. It almost looked like... Are you warming to him? Hermione Granger! Explain yourself!" she said sternly.

"He's awful, don't get me wrong... but when I stand up to him, it makes me feel almost... powerful, in a way. I spent years trying to please him, but I guess I don't need him to like me anymore. It's as though I'm becoming someone more sure of herself. You know?"

"Definitely", Lavender said and elbowed her playfully. "Before, you would have done anything for his approval. Even though he was demonstrably never going to give it to you. Gods, you really were... and I say this with love and respect now that we are friends... but you were such a brownnoser."

Hermione's giggle transformed to a song of laughter.
"I was wasn't I?"

"Perhaps a little" Katie said, with a sarcastic grimace.

"I still have that tendency though" Hermione said. "I still want to prove myself to him because he's brilliant, but I'm not afraid to stick up for myself either. I've even called him out on it a couple of times. I know it's not a big deal but..."

"Granger", Susan interjected, "if you ask me that is a big deal. It's brave. We all know what Snape's like. Plus, it proves that you haven't lost all of yourself, doesn't it? You are still the person you were, but now you're becoming more assertive and less concerned with the opinions of others. This Hermione is a girl I can get behind."

"Hear hear!" Lavender said, and summoned four wine-filled goblets from the windowsill. "A toast" she said, as each of the girls grabbed a glass. "To an improved Granger..."

"An improved Granger!" they each sang.