A Snape/Hermione fic I wrote a long time ago

A Snape/Hermione fic I wrote a long time ago.

Disclaimer: I don't own harry potter.

She hated doing all of this reading. She loathed it, but she loved it. All of the knowledge contained in these volumes, flowing into her memory, forever locked inside her mind. No, it wasn't the reading that aggravated her so, it was the amount. The fact that Severus…Professor Snape, thought that just because he was their Potions teacher, he could assign them endless amounts of reading that had almost no bearing on their class itself, or the studies involved in it. That was what aggravated her, alright.

Now, Hermione did have a slight idea on why he was so sore towards them all. He'd finally gotten to teach the class he'd always wanted to, Defense Against the Dark Arts, a subject he knew too well, and then in doing what Albus Dumbledore had asked of him, pretending he'd killed the man, he'd been labeled a murderer and traitor, with no one believing otherwise. Well, Hermione had thought him innocent, but only Harry and Ron knew that. She wasn't about to run around telling anyone else that either, especially the redeemed Slytherin himself.

In a way, she admired him. His intellect, his courage, and loyalty were all amazing attributes in a man of his repute. There were too few like him, wizard or muggle. The nerve it had taken for him to pretend to be Lord Voldemort's loyal subject, while passing information from the dark side to Dumbledore, knowing that any day he could be discovered and killed…amazing.

Sighing to herself, she shook her head slightly to clear her mind. Setting herself back to work with force, she wiped almost all thoughts of Severus Snape from her wandering mind.

"You have got to be kidding me," Snape told the Headmaster with an attempt at determination. There is no way in hell that man is serious.

"I'm quite afraid that I am not, Severus, kidding you," Dumbledore replied, folding his ageing hands in front of him on the wood of his desk, Fawkes cleaning his feathers behind him.

"It can be done?" Snape inquired incredulously. "No, it can't, of course it can't. The idea is preposterous."

Dumbledore smiled fondly at the Potions Master. "It can be done, Severus, I assure you," the old wizard confirmed. "It is your reward for outstanding courage, wit, and shining loyalty."

Snape snorted. "Reward? My reward? When exactly did I ask for this?"

Dumbledore promptly answered.

"Oh, right," Snape said, remembering that day, long ago…too long.

Dumbledore stood from his desk. "Well, let's get on with it, shall we?"

Snape took a hesitant step towards his old teacher and friend. "What about my memories? Will I remember anything?" Snape didn't know if he really wanted to remember anyway…all of the things he did while in service to Voldemort. He shuddered at the thought. He would be grateful to never remember that ever again.

"I'm not sure, though I very seriously doubt it," the Headmaster answered simply, pulling out his wand. With a flick of his wrist, and a low muttering of the spell, the lights dimmed in the Headmaster's office, and seventeen-year old Severus Snape stood before him.