This is my first attempt at a Harry Potter fic, so I hope you like it, and if you don't - review and tell me what you think I should change.

Pairing: Hermione Granger/Severus Snape, Draco Malfoy/Harry Potter

Rating: R

If anyone has a problem with these pairings, then don't read this story! All sorts of reviews are welcome, but flames complaining about the pairings are just unnecessary, so if you don't like, don't read, OK?

Otherwise, please read and review!

Oh and I don't own anything, JKR does:)

Source of inspiration

Chapter one

Unexpected help

Hermione dropped her quill on the bit of parchment, raising her hands to her head for support. Two hours ago she had started this simple assignment, and still she couldn't finish it. As her frustration was getting the better of her, Hermione got out of the chair of the library to take a walk around the aisles in search of inspiration. The smell of books had always helped her in her work previously, and the atmosphere of an empty library packed with knowledge just waiting to be sought out was also renewed her spirit to learn. But today it seemed as thought nothing could relieve her mind of the tension she was feeling.

NEWTS were coming up, and though she always felt like a nervous wreck before an important examination, this time it was much worse. Her frail nerves were hindering her work from progressing, and she couldn't manage to snap out of it.

Peeking out the window, Hermione noticed that it was dark outside. Maybe she had been sitting there longer than she thought. Suddenly she heard the sound of another pair of feet silently treading the library floor besides her own. Who could possibly have any business in the library at this late an hour? For all she knew, she was the only one in school who would do such a thing.

"Studying late, Miss Granger?"

The silkyvoice could belong to no one else than Professor Snape. Hermione turned from the windows to face her Potions Professor, smiling gently. He may be mean to his students every waken hour, but there was no way that he would get her in an even worse mood then she already was. But before she could answer, he had reached for one of her Advanced Potions book, amongst many others on the same subject.

"A little light reading, I see." Snape said, his voice the usual dripping with sarcasm.

Hermione cringed inwardly for not choosing this day to study Arithmancy or Transfiguration. Or anything else for that matter. She knew how much he loved scolding her for her work in the subject, even though Hermione knew she was one of his best students. Just not by his standards, maybe.

"Yes, I'm preparing for the NEWTS," she said as courteously and dignified as she could.

"The Gryffindor common hall is too crowded and noisy to get any work done."

At least she wasn't lying about that, it was almost unthinkable for her to study the same way Ron or Harry did, surrounded by so many others.

"I can imagine..." Snape's voice was still as sarcastic and unwelcoming to continuing the conversation as ever, so she knew better than to try and small talk with him. If she just stood there long enough, he was sure to go away.

"And I know you and the rest of your adventurous, lawbreaking trio have problems respecting the curfew within these grounds, but do try not to stay here too long." His voice was back at the intimidating sneer she was getting quite used to hear. Seven years being taught by him, and still it had not lost its effect.

"I would just hate to give any of you detention. Again." Snape's mouth curled up slightly at that last word, indicating he would want nothing more than to give her detention right then and there, if for nothing else than just annoying him with her presence.

"Yes, Professor." Hermione couldn't think of anything else to say. Trying to defy him would be like signing her own death warrant.

Some excruciatingly long seconds later, Hermione saw him turn to leave, and she released the breath she had been holding.

And that's when she remembered her current problem. A problem that had occurred while studying for her Potions NEWTS, a problem that probably only Snape could help her with.

"Er, P-Professor?" Her voice was weak and feeble, and hardly carried across the room; still Snape turned abruptly and stared her down with one of his icy glares, a malevolent smirk playing on his lips. There was no doubt he noticed her fear-induced stammer.

"Uh, I was just wondering, you see I..." her increasingly weaker voice was interrupted by the stern voice of her Professor.

"I can assure that whatever you wish to say to me, I will be losing my patience for every time you do that ridiculous stammer, so speak clearly and be done with it, will you?"

Hermione only became more nervous by Snape's outburst and deadly stare, but defied her fear and continued.

"I need your help. I am, as you can clearly see, studying for my NEWTS in Potions." She gestured to the books scattered across the entire table.

The face of her Professor changed considerably, from irritation, to sheer disgusted confusion.

Apparently, he was either not used to students approaching him for help, or he was just not used to this student approaching him for help. Hermione had to admit that she had never done so before.

And suddenly the prospect of receiving help from Professor Snape seemed the most unwanted thing in the world, giving her a renewed will to want to solve the problem by herself.

"But I realise you're probably busy, so never mind, I'll figure it out myself. Pardon me for asking, Professor." She gave a courteous nod, before returning to the table, sitting down and picking up a book. Continuing with her 'if I only ignore him long enough, he'll go away' philosophy, she stared even harder into her Advanced Potions book.

"What do you need help with?"

The impact his voice had made that moment was probably not clear to anyone but her self, at least he hoped it was not, because it certainly felt like someone had struck her with a sledge hammer to the stomach. He had almost sounded polite.

"I do realise that you think me too busy to help one of my students, and I can assure you that there are may other things I would rather be doing –"The sneering sarcasm was back in his voice as he had approached her table silently.

"But Dumbledore is insisting that I dedicate more time to the students around NEWTS time."

In spite of herself, Hermione lifted her gaze from the book to look at her Professor. The explanation that he was required to spend more time helping students because 'Dumbledore said so' did not satisfy her. No doubt Dumbledore had told him to be more forgiving to Harry for something his father had done, as well, but he was still as cruel to him as ever. Then it struck her that he might think of it as a challenge. She was sure Snape wasn't approached frequently about helping someone in the subject he taught, and when she had tried to back down from her enquiry, he might have made the assumption that he would most definitely say no. And though she had nothing to base it on; Hermione felt sure that Snape was not one to do what others expected him to. It was his way of getting the upper hand on someone.

She let her eyes travel from the buttoned, black wool coat up to his face, sallow and bleak as ever, further to his eyes, and was instantly met by the trademark deadly glare which he used to reserve for Neville Longbottom especially, after a particularly bad cauldron-melting experience.

"That is, if you are planning to quit staring at me sometime today, and get on with explaining what it is you are having difficulties with."

Mortified, Hermione returned her eyes to the book, clearing her throat.

Not as much as thirty minutes later, they had gone over most of the parts in the Potions curriculum she had had difficulties with (and Hermione took great pride in the fact that it wasn't all that much at all.) Her professor had been surprisingly polite, at least compared to how he used to treat his students. He had still been sarcastic at times, and unappreciative of Hermione taking too long to explain. But all in all, it had not been as bad as she had expected.

She had found herself staring at her professor at times, as he was absorbed in the books trying to explain whatever she was experiencing as difficult. Well, 'absorbed' would probably be a poor way to describe it; Snape was never one to show any emotions. He looked as cold and stiff as ever, but still she could notice him loosen up slightly as she asked him the right questions, the challenging ones. He really was dedicated to his work, although he always seems utterly bored in class. Though she could imagine herself having to teach so many students a difficult subject such as this when they have absolutely no interest whatsoever to learn it.

Then, suddenly her mind came to itself, asking herself why she had caught herself staring at Snape, of all people. The man every student in Hogwarts detested for being the ever-sarcastic, cruel and greasy git who picked more on the weaker students in class than the ones who could handle it. And who favoured his little Slytherins no matter how stupid they were. Hermione was still amazed by the fact that Crabbe and Goyle had made it this far without ever requiring Remedial Potions.

"Miss Granger!"

The outburst of her highly un-amused Professor had almost frightened her into having a given heart attack, but somehow she managed to regain her composure as she snapped out of her own thoughts.

"I assure you, I will not condone you making a habit out of staring at me."

Hermione felt a blush creep up her cheeks and she quickly brought her gaze down to her book, muttering an apology without daring to meet his eyes. Fortunately, she did not have to, as he continued speaking.

"As it seems, we have gone through the topics you had difficulties with, and as it is also past your curfew, I suggest you leave for the Gryffindor common room." Snape's voice sounded less dangerous now, and Hermione felt relief surging through her that he had dismissed her without giving her detention for her behaviour. Though it was nothing for a normal teacher to give detention for, she would put nothing past Snape.

"Yes, of course. I'm sorry, Professor. Just a little tired, that's all." She did not take her time in packing up her books, just scraped them into her book bag carelessly to get out of there as soon as possible.

"Well then you should have said so, Miss Granger, and I would have cut the session short." He seemed to have been caught somewhat off guard with her statement, and in realising that they had been in the library longer than expected, but he withheld his composure as he spoke again.

"Now I suggest that you hurry on your way back so that no other teachers will see you. Wouldn't want to see Professor McGonagall be forced to give her precious little Gryffindor detention for staying out past curfew." He had taken a step forward then, and stood close enough for Hermione to pick up on a faint smell of spices from the various ingredients of Potion making. Then he lowered his voice considerably before continuing, looking down at her as menacingly as only Professor Snape could.

"And believe me, I would not be there to provide you with a safe alibi for scurrying about the castle this late."

Then he turned as violently as he had when Hermione had asked him for help, stalking off into the corridor.

Hermione was seriously disappointed to see him leave, and once again, that little voice inside her head asked her exactly why she would feel that way.

'She admired him, that's it' she thought. And why wouldn't she? A man of his intelligence, that acerbic wit and those sarcastic comments quite pertinent as long as she wasn't on the receiver's end. Oh dear God, now she sounded like a silly schoolgirl with a crush. Which was definitely not what she was.

She shook those thoughts out of head as she followed the path Snape had taken down the corridor, heading for Gryffindor Tower. But as she was about to set foot on the first step of the stairs, she stopped dead in her tracks. Her book. The Advanced Potions book with all her notes in it was still lying in the library, she must have forgotten it after her session with Snape.

Running back to the library in a haste suggesting that a matter of life and death was involved; Hermione didn't even consider trying to be as silent as a Head Girl wandering the halls out at night was expected to. Not that she could use her status as an excuse was she ever caught. As a Head Girl she only had a couple of hours later curfew, and it was well past that time now.

But this was a matter of great importance to her. To anyone else, forgetting a book in the library would be nothing more than a minor hitch in their plans. But to Hermione Granger it was one of the worst things that could happen. She depended on books, they provided her with comfort if she was feeling out of sorts, and the universe of books was always a place she could rely on for escaping, if her friends did not understand her.

As she reached the library, she was relieved to see that Madam Pince had not locked the door. Though she hadn't done so ever since Hermione became Head Girl and was awarded with the trust of staying in the library to lock up herself after Madam Pince had left.

As fast as she could, Hermione got herself and her book out of there, and had just finished locking up as she turned, promptly crashing into a wall of black, the stomach of her Potions Professor. The strength of the impact caused her to stumble backwards, and suddenly she felt herself losing contact with the ground. Hermione closed her eyes and prepared for the fall, but instead noticed that she once again had solid ground beneath her feet. And the two strong arms of her Snape holding her up - one around her waist and one holding her left wrist.

As she opened her eyes, she stared instinctively into his black eyes, expecting his trademark deadly glare, but was instead met by another expression, one she had not seen before on his face. A mixture of anger and confusion was evident, she thought, but there was there was something else there as well, something she could not identify.

It was only then she realised the situation they were in. Snape held a firm grip on her lower back and left wrist, and Hermione could not help but connect their position to dancing. She had barely stifled a giggle, but Snape had still noticed the amusement in her face, for he dropped his grip on her instantly, taking a long step back. Instantly, Hermione felt a void on her back where his hand had been, and her wrist was tingling slightly from the sensation of human contact. It had been a long time since anyone had gotten that close to her.

Snape seemed to have been thinking along those same lines, but he quickly recovered, and Hermione could see him already forming a scathing remark in his head.

"Did I not say that you were to go straight to Gryffindor Tower, Miss Granger?" Never before had she heard him sound this malicious, his eyes reduced to two dark slits as he watched her carefully.

"And yet here you are, wandering about as though you own the place." Hermione didn't know how to respond, so she took what she believed to be the best path possible, staying silent.

"Tell me, Miss Granger, has your friend Potter's belief that he is above the school rules rubbed off on you?"

"No, Sir, I assure you, I was just –"Hermione bit back her apology, as Snape was apparently not in the mood for explanations. Hermione briefly wondered if this was punishment, for getting too close to him only moments before.

"You were just what, Miss Granger? Seeing just how far you could manage to bend the school rules without getting caught?"

Hermione knew she had to tread carefully around him, and deliberated long and hard for her answer, staring intently down on her shoes. But before she could respond to him, he had already made up his mind on what to do about her current 'situation'.

"Detention, Miss Granger," Snape said silkily, his eyes staring at her with such a force they almost bored a hole in her head.

Her eyes widened as she brought her gaze up to meet his again, but she knew there was no way of getting herself out of this one.

"And since you seem to be so fond of staying up late, then your detention will begin at midnight tomorrow. There are some Potion ingredients that need collecting, and it can only be done at night." His voice was more malicious than ever, and Hermione had no difficulty imagining how he had been as a Death Eater. And for the second time that night, he had turned to stalk off down the corridor, but she could still hear him raise his voice for one last comment.

"And dress sensibly, Miss Granger."

Hermione had a feeling it would be the worst detention she had ever had.

A/N: There will be some more plot introduced in the next chapter, just so you know. And I would be very grateful if you would take the time to review, to tell me if you think this is a story worth continuing!