A/N: This is written for the GrangerEnchanted cliche fic challenge. My prompt is apprentice!Hermione. Rest assured, though, this isn't your generic story.

As for "What Fates Impose:" I had a few more chapters written, but they got deleted. Now, I'm trying to get past my frustration to rewrite them, wondering if they'll be as good as they originally were. So, for now, I'm working on this.

Pairings: Oliver Wood/Hermione Granger; Severus Snape/Hermione Granger.

Set post DH ignoring some obvious things.

Chapter 1:

Children were annoying. She loved teaching them enough at Hogwarts, it wasn't the older ones she had a problem with. Sure, her seventh years could act like bumbling fools at times, but most of them had a genuine wish to learn something, to better themselves. She had learned from McGonagall that she need not baby her students; she just had to teach them all she could and help them when they were truly struggling. However, small children were a completely different type.

She knew it would be different if she ever had her own kids. She was a patient woman (even if teaching had sucked some patience out of her), a caring woman, a loving woman. Now, she wasn't passing by old texts and great fiction to benefit someone. She was looking for a gift for Teddy's fifth birthday, and his gram had told her that she didn't have a choice in what she was going to pick him out. She would pick him out a book, but it wouldn't be the type of book she loved. She was going to buy a picture book.

Hermione loved books. Everyone knew that much of her, even if they only knew of her through the statue just down the street or through the press. There wasn't one type of book she hated… except picture books. There was always an overused, uninteresting, and juvenile message that in the end meant nothing. They were a waste of space and precious trees. She pitied the authors who wrote them and every parent who dotingly bought their children several dozen a month.

She had walked straight into dear old Flourish and Blotts and bypassed the best sellers and young adult fiction, only to stop at shelves filled with oversized picture books. She sighed, tapping her foot impatiently as she tried to locate the least bothersome one.

"Hermione Granger?" said a voice behind her.

She turned to the unfamiliar voice and was met with a rather robust man with large, brown eyes. She blinked for a moment, knowing the man in front of her was somehow familiar. Then, it clicked. He was at the final battle. She vaguely remembered seeing him in the Great Hall fighting, and she definitely remembered him carrying wounded fighters to safety as the battle was drawing to a close.

"Oliver Wood?" she asked, surprised to see him.

"It took you long enough!" he exclaimed, a rough laugh escaping his lips and reverberating through her body.

"I'm sorry! Hello, it's good to see you. You look well!"

"As do you. I'm good, and how are you?" he asked, a genuine smile still gracing his face.

That was the one thing she remembered about Oliver Wood, even from their brief encounters, when he was still a student. He was always frank, never pretentious, and he was passionate about everything.

"I'm great. I'm just doing a bit of shopping," she said, laughing when she noticed she was holding a book with a penguin on the cover.

He caught where her gaze was directed and joined her in her laughter.

"This is how you became so brilliant. You save your brain power by reading books with no words in them," he said accusingly, a hint of the previous laughter still in his tone.

"Oh, you caught me! So, what are you doing here?" she asked, rolling her eyes.

"I was going to look into curse-breaking texts, actually, when I spotted you," he said sheepishly, pointing to where the books were.

"Curse-breaking? Why would a starter for Puddlemere United need to read up on his curse-breaking?"

"I don't know if that boyfriend of yours has told you anything about me, but I got injured last season. I figure, I'm getting older now. It's not too late for me to think of alternate career paths if I get hurt again. Bill spent some time off season teaching me a few things."

That was unexpected. Oliver Wood was more muscular than she had ever seen him. He wasn't particularly tall, but he was broad shouldered while still managing to look light and flexible. It was quite paradoxical. He seemed to be in the prime of his life and his Quidditch playing. He had even participated in the World Cup last year; Ron and Harry boasted to anyone who would listen, telling tales of their time spent under the direction of such a star (even if Ron hadn't been on the team at that time).

She honestly didn't believe that he would have time for anything beside his full-time career, and even if he was looking to have a backup, she had never really thought of him as particularly intelligent. Oliver Wood always seemed like an athlete, nothing more and nothing less.

"You don't have to look so surprised," he said with a heavy accent. "I'm startin' to get offended here, love."

"Oh. Quite sorry. I was just taken aback. You seem to be at the height of your career."

"I am for now, but it changes so fast, Granger. I plan to have a family some day, and I don't want there to be any problems with money when that day comes 'round," he said seriously.

She looked into his eyes and nodded. It was logical enough.

"I'm sorry, but I've got to run. 'Twas a pleasure."

And just like that, he was gone, leaving Hermione alone with her hated childrens' books.

---

"Hermione, dear!" screeched a very happy Molly Weasley, taking Hermione into her arms, squeezing the life out of her.

"Good afternoon, Molly. I hope I'm not late," Hermione greeted, clutching the present under her right arm.

"Not at all, dear. Everyone else is inside. We're letting Teddy open his presents immediately. The little scamp can't wait so you can just hand it right to him."

It was the day of Teddy's birthday party. It was held at the Burrow, and she was not looking forward to it at all. She loved Teddy enough. He was definitely his parents' son. His hair changed with his emotions (since he had yet to learn to control his gift), and it was frequently dark red. Dark red meant he was concentrating, and that meant he was busy reading books well beyond his young years. He had been bought a broom that hovered in the air at five feet, and he could be found sitting on it with a basket tied to the end for his books. She liked Teddy more than some of her blood relatives, but the party atmosphere was not going to be pleasant for her.

She and Ron had mutually decided to split up (much to Molly's disdain) several months ago, and since, Ron had taken to pulling pranks on her. She admitted that she retaliated quite a bit, but George was genuinely angry at her. Prank-pulling was his and Fred's domain, and even though he allowed Ron to work with him at his shops, and even take over as partner, he did not approve of Hermione taking part in the activities. She found it extremely irrational, and it barely made sense to her. However he was truly angry, probably figuring that she was trying to wipe out Fred's memory, and he showed it every opportunity he got. She didn't know how to mend the problem.

Walking into the party, it took only a second to be enveloped in a hug by Ron and Harry. Both let go after a few seconds, saying their greetings, and scolding her for not writing more while she was at work or sneaking out on weekends to have a pint.

Next was Ginny Potter, who also hugged her best friend, before slapping her lightly across the shoulders for the same reason she was scolded by Ron and Harry.

"Aunt Hermione!" little Teddy screeched, running up to her and hugging her leg before taking the present and running off.

"Hello, Ted," she said absentmindedly, long after he had run off. Everyone laughed.

"So, how has everything been? How's teaching?" Harry asked, his hand loosely wrapping itself around Ginny's waist.

Hermione smiled at the gesture. They still acted as if they were just starting to date. She knew statistically that this was close to impossible, but here it was, right in front of her- true love.

"I almost miss just sitting in the back of the class, learning how to teach. It's the end of my final year, and with teaching and all my other duties, I feel quite overwhelmed all the time," she said, sitting on the arm of a sofa, hoping Mrs. Weasley wouldn't swoop in to reprimand her.

"Ah, well, you knew what you were getting yourself into," Harry reminded her.

"I still think you're mad," Ron added in, patting her back lightly.

"Ronald…" Hermione said, trailing off as she gave him a look through narrowed eyes.

"Hermione?" hee asked with a straight face, even sounding confused.

"A 'Kick me!' sign? Really?" she asked, moving her hand to her back to peel it off.

The trio burst out laughing while Ginny rolled up the piece of parchment and whacked Ron over the head with it.

"Now, that wasn't very nice, Potter," said the same voice as yesterday.

Hermione was very surprised to stare into the eyes of Oliver Wood again so soon.

"He deserved it. Look what he was putting on Hermione's back!" Ginny exclaimed, unrolling the sign and showing it to him.

Hermione blushed in embarrassment, not being able to help herself. It felt like she was getting into akward situations around him, and she didn't like it… nor did she know why it was so much more embarrassing around him.

"Not a smart move, lad. This one's got fire to her," Oliver commented with a small grin, winking at Hermione.

She had to force herself not to blush this time, not breaking eye contact with him.

"I knew she wouldn't fall for it, but you can't blame a bloke for trying. So, mate, how have things been on your end? Are you ready to get pummeled on the 21st?" Ron asked, nudging Oliver and causing the eye contact between Hermione and him to be broken.

"Pummeled, eh? By who? Not 'chur team you're talkin' about, I hope," he replied, a fire now burning in his eyes.

"Boys," Ginny tried to intervene with a firm tone.

"I'm ready to see both of you be pummeled by the Russians," Harry added, his arm leaving Ginny's waist as he joined the Quidditch conversation.

Hermione wondered if Ginny would join in, too. She had two options if that were to happen: She could stand there awkwardly, not understanding three quarters of what they were saying, or she could walk away and chat up strangers, hoping all the men and half of the women in the room wouldn't be drawn in. She looked from the man with the black hair to the redhead to the brunette. Oliver gestured frantically, the hair standing up on the back of his neck.

She didn't know many who got animalistic traits like that, but it definitely wasn't unwelcome.

Hermione shook her head and chastised herself for her impure thoughts. She didn't have long to dwell on it as Ginny removed herself from the now triangle and took Hermione's hand, pulling her away.

"Boys will be boys. Oliver and Ron play, but what's Harry's excuse?" she asked, rolling her eyes.

Hermione chuckled lightly, her eyes roaming over to Oliver before going back to Ginny. "I'm just glad you don't participate in these conversations anymore. I was afraid my source of intelligent conversation would have to come from five year olds."

"Not to worry, Hermione. I'm here!" the former Weasley exclaimed, a smirk slowly creeping onto her face.

"…What?" Hermione asked, not liking the look Ginny was getting. Despite being put in Gryffindor, Ginny had always been the most Slytherin-like of the bunch. She'd even dated one before Harry finally came to his senses and snapped out of his depression after the war.

"I see you're admiring Oliver's… sense of style… especially the faded part of his jeans around his arse," Ginny said, a full-blown smirk now gracing her features.

Hermione gasped, her hand coming to her mouth. "Ginny!"

Ginny shrugged, her face smug as her friend's cheeks turned crimson.

"Everything alright, love?" Harry asked as conversation stopped at Hermione's outburst.

"Everything is fine, dear," Ginny reassured, the smirk still not off her face as Hermione hid her face in her hands.

"It's okay, Herms," Ron said, coming over to pat Hermione's back.

Hermione didn't even try to remove the 'Kick me!' sign this time. She felt enough embarrassment. To make matters worse, Oliver also walked over to where the two women were standing and took the sign off, tsking at Ron.

"I'll get you something to drink," he offered, moving into the kitchen to presumably grab a glass of water.

"So, what really happened?" Harry asked, eying Hermione.

"She's got the hots for a certain Quidditch player," Ginny said and added, "but it's not you, Ron," when Ron gasped.

Hermione groaned, finally lifting her head. "I saw him yesterday for the first time in four years. Leave me----"

"GRANGER!"

The whole room, children included this time, turned toward the door.

"I don't know what you think you're doing, but you have to add fluxweed to your potion NOW! I will discontinue this apprenticeship and refuse your position next year if you neglect your duties AGAIN! NOW, GO!"

It was none other than Severus Snape, his hair still as black as it was twenty years ago and twice as slimy. The only difference was that he seemed to have gained even more of a freakish control over his robes and had them billowing even when he was standing still.

"Relax, Professor. This is a child's party," Arthur Weasley broke in, luring the children away from the living room and outside into the garden.

"I apologize, Weasley. However, I require my apprentice to fulfill her duties even if a life-changing potion seems trivial to you," Snape sneered, locking eyes with the Weasley.

"I requested today off," Hermione said, simply dismissing the man that seemed to strike fear into the hearts of most of the partygoers.

"Yes, you did. However, I will not look over your projects. You are responsible for them," Severus sneered.

"I requested that Neville add the ingredient for me. It is the easiest to add, and all he has to do is simply pick it up and drop it in. Yet, I still wrote him detailed instructions," Hermione said, rolling her eyes.

"YOU IMBECILE! The boy cannot even brew a first year's potion, and you're having him be part of your original creations?" Severus was now outraged, his black eyes bulging.

"Oh, leave it. I've another batch, and I'll thoroughly inspect it when I get back. Now, please leave," she requested, sighing impatiently.

"I will only do so when you accompany me so that you may do your brewing," Snape bellowed, a scowl deeply engraved in her face.

"I mean no disrespect, Snape, but you've to go now. You're ruining a lovely party," Oliver said, coming back from the kitchen and handing a bottle of water to Hermione.

"Shut up, boy. This does not concern you," Snape said, merely waving him off.

"You're being quite disrespectful. Please leave before I forcibly remove you, and I do not mean through magic," Oliver said, pocketing the wand he had drawn seconds earlier.

It was like watching an old muggle movie- a western. Hermione imagined, rather comically, both of them donning cowboy boots with little stars on the side and taking three steps backward before firing old-fashioned pistols. Who would win? The hero or the villain?

Hermione started to giggle inaudibly. However, in the dead silence of the room, it echoed. She supposed that the stares she was getting were appropriate. They were probably wondering if she had gone insane, possibly out of fright. But how could she be afraid of Severus? She had learned to be fearless around him. For Merlin's sake, she caught him wearing polka dot boxers when she walked into the lab late one night to find him brewing.

They were gray and lime green. She wondered if she could get away with drawing smiley faces on them.

She burst out laughing this time.

"Hermione…?" Ron asked her, but she ignored him.

"Excuse me," she said, taking a sip of the water, "I'm going to go see if Teddy likes his book."

She walked outside, still giggling madly, ignoring the possible fight between her mentor and the bloke she had grown fond of (as fond as she could grow over the course of two days and fifty syllables).