The story content is adult in nature and can contain graphic sex and violence. Those under the age of 18 are asked to leave this site immediately. You are not welcome here. The author is not responsible for those under-aged who view these works.
Disclaimer: All recognizable characters belong to JKR. All situations are mine. No $$$ is being made from this fanfic.
*******************************
Chapter 1 ~ Hermione Flips the Script
Hermione Granger, age twenty-one, had graduated Hogwarts three years ago with the highest marks of the past fifty years. She had been highly sought after by various wizarding colleges, but surprised everyone by deciding to serve for a few years as a soldier of the Order, before continuing her education.
Lord Voldemort was dead, having been killed by Harry Potter in his seventh year. The Boy Who Lived accomplished this feat with the use of an ordinary muggle mirror, which he used to reflect a deadly hex back at the Dark Lord, killing him instantly in a one on one showdown. The expected Final Battle never occurred.
But the deatheaters remained, operating like a terrorist group, with cells throughout the wizarding world, causing death and mayhem among innocent people, all in the name of the Dark Lord. Hermione felt it her duty to fight against their evil and enrolled in the Order two weeks after graduating. She still worked for the Order in other capacities, but she was a soldier first and foremost, a trained and skilled warrior.
She had trained under Kingsley Shacklebolt and Nymphadora Tonks, and had shown, after a rocky start, that she had the ability to be an effective hand-to-hand combatant. Though short of stature, she knew how to use her size to her advantage, and could take down an opponent many times her size. When she initially joined the Order, for the first few months she was treated roughly by her fellow Order members, all of whom believed that the young woman had no place in their ranks, being an intellectual, a researcher and in short, a bookworm. They saw her as a possible liability, someone they would have to protect while battling deatheaters, thus a distraction that could cost good men and women their lives.
So when the veteran members trained with Hermione, they would take her down with vicious intent, and every night she was to be found bruised and aching, soaking in a tub of restorative herbs. But she would never give up. Every night of practice, the Order members would gather hoping that the witch got the message she wasn’t wanted and wouldn’t bother showing up. But she always did, to be subjected to the same treatment again and again. Her nose had been broken several times, as well as her ribs. On several throws, her sparring partners had checked her in mid-air dislocating her shoulder repeatedly. When it came to weapons usage, such as the staff, and blunted short sword, she was subjected to many painful blows and thrusts, most of which dropped her immediately. She was left gasping to recover as best she could. Not one Order member gave her any quarter.
Hermione never complained to either Kingsley or Tonks about the treatment she was receiving. She refused to be seen as a crybaby. Both Aurors knew her fellow Order members were giving her a difficult time. Neither would interfere. If Hermione could not stand up to the stress of being targeted, she might not be able to handle herself out in the field. If she were one to break and run, it would be better to find out now, rather than when she was involved in real battle
It was the night that she blocked and viciously broke the arm of Order member Cedric Franklin, a particularly vocal opponent of her acceptance into the Order, that she began to gain some respect. And as her fighting skills grew, Hermione exacted her revenge in a cold and calculating manner. She was hard, she was brutal, and showed no mercy to any opponent. She left a trail of shattered bones and busted heads behind her. All of her sparring partners knew when Hermione Granger took her defensive or offensive stance, she meant business. She meant to take them out.
Harry never joined the Order. After the death of Voldemort, he left to rejoin the muggle world for a time, to live a normal life for the first time. He was tired of being famous and a hero. He hadn’t abandoned the magical world completely, but had his fill of it, and needed time to find out who he really was. Harry’s choice was accepted and respected. Hermione missed him very much and understood what it was like to step outside the box of others’ expectancies and live your own life. She had disappointed many people by her decision not to attend university immediately, her parents and professors among them. But there still was evil in the world, and she felt it her duty to actively fight it. This was her life and she would live it as she saw fit.
Her first time in the field, Hermione made an impressive showing, battling two armed deatheaters hand-to-hand and managing to take them both alive. The two prisoners eventually gave valuable information to the Order concerning the operation of their group. Hermione carried with her a permanent memento of her first battle. A small, two-inch scar carved into her right cheek by the blade of one of deatheaters she took down. Now, three years later, she was a seasoned veteran of the Order, accepted by all members. All that is, except one.
Order member Severus Snape.
The Professor never participated in the unified effort of the other member to oust the Gryffindor witch. His methods were much more insidious. He often served in the capacity of medi-wizard, healing broken bones and injuries. Hermione came to him often those first few months, and he employed his gift of sarcasm, mockery, derision and disdain, to work away at the witch’s nerves when forced to treat her.
The Professor never missed an opportunity to rankle the witch. He seemed to delight in upsetting her. His constant picking drove Hermione into fits of frustration. One night, after the Professor insinuated that her fighting skills were greatly exaggerated, Hermione furiously challenged him to engage in hand-to-hand combat with her, one-on-one, anytime, anyplace. To which he laughed at her uproariously.
“You would never be able to handle me, Miss Granger,” he said silkily, looking at her with a deadpan expression. I would snap you like a twig.”
His comment angered Hermione so greatly, that she attacked him…only to find he wasn’t standing where she struck, but behind her. She found this out when the Potions Master kicked her in the ass and sent her crashing into the far wall of the living room at Order Headquarters so forcefully she was left dizzy and disoriented, unable to fight any further. Her last memory of that confrontation was him smirking at her, then striding away.
How she hated the man. The death of the Dark Lord did nothing to sweeten his disposition. He was just as hard and cold as he was when he was suffering for the Order.
After the death of Voldemort, the Professor had been invited to be the Guest of Honor at a special ceremony where he was to be presented the Order of Merlin for his service to the wizarding world by the Minister of Magic himself. This invite had been issued once his role as a spy was revealed by Albus Dumbledore, after the Aurors arrived at Hogwarts to take the Potions Master into custody. The Professor went through numerous interrogations, examinations and grillings by the Ministry before he was left alone.
Albus insisted the Potions Master attend the ceremony. The dark wizard stood stoic and stone-faced as the Minister gushed about his sacrifices to the audience. When the official offered Severus his hand, the wizard looked at him coldly, turned and strode from the dais, neither accepting his handshake or the Order of Merlin medal. His snub was written up in all the local wizarding newspapers. He returned to his dungeons and teaching. And continued his service in the order, now creating elixirs and identifying deatheaters.
Hermione had heard about the Professor participating in raids on deatheater strongholds, but had never seen him in action. Tonks confided that the Professor was one of, if not the most deadly and vicious fighters in the Order and had the skills of an assassin. Hermione didn’t doubt the wizard was vicious. He had so much hatred in him, he could be nothing else. But she would love to have the opportunity to break his big nose anyway.
To make matters worse, the Professor stayed at Order Headquarters during Hogwarts’ summer break, and he and Hermione had petty confrontations daily. Things as simple as neither wanting to step aside on the stairwell when going up or down, or outright rows about lab usage. There was only one lab at Grimmauld Place, and Professor Snape believed it belonged to him. Hermione steadfastedly claimed it was the use of any Order member with the skill to use it. Albus tried to mediate, but they still continued to clash about it. These small personal wars had been occurring for the past three years, ever since Hermione joined the Order. Another thing that irked the Professor and brought Hermione extreme satisfaction was her use of his first name.
“I am no longer a student. I am an adult and your fellow Order member. I will not continue to call you Professor, Severus,” Hermione would say as the Potions Master grew red with rage. Hermione would often revert to child-like taunting. “Severus, I will call you “Severus” whenever I need to address you, Severus,” she’d say with a grim little smile as his black eyes flashed at her. There were times she thought he might attack her, he would be so enraged.
The Potions Master was still as slick and shady as ever when it came to sniffing rule breakers out. He didn’t sleep well, and often could be found walking the halls of Grimmauld Place at all hours of the night, though he was so quiet no one really knew this. One night he was up due to his insomnia, sitting in the living room reading and heard someone descending the stairs. He cast a disillusionment spell on himself and waited quietly to see who was up after hours. He was surprised to see Hermione, dressed in sweats, trainers and a t-shirt, creeping down the stairs and entering the cellar that led to the Order’s specialized Room of Requirement. He didn’t follow her, but hung around to see when she returned. It was three hours later. That explained the change in her sleeping patterns that he had noticed lately. Normally she was an early riser, but had taken to sleeping past ten on certain mornings. What was she doing down there?
The Professor began to watch for her each night, and discovered Hermione visited the room three or four times a week, and when she returned, most of the time she was filthy, covered in mud and dirt. Obviously, the witch was training, but for what? She could train anytime. Why the middle of the night? Severus was curious. He knew the witch was up to something she shouldn’t be.
The Professor was determined to find out what that was.
******************************
A/N: Another alternate universe fic where Hermione and Severus do not get along. I plan to make this a short, hopefully juicy “clash of the titans” type story. Again not exactly sure where its going, but it will eventually get there. Please review.
The Burning Pen
Love Can Be a Battle or a War
by Ruth Solomon