Had he used Imperius on her? She'd kill him. She looked up into his hard glare. She'd walked out on her apprenticeship! 

"What the hell!" Hermione was surprised by her own tone of voice. He simply raised an eyebrow and stared down his hawk-like nose. 

"Do you want to succeed, Granger? I promise you, you would be held back staying there." She snorted, irritated. Since when had anyone held Snape in such high regard? Sure, he'd recieved an Order of Merlin, 2nd Class after the war. That didn't make him any more likeable. 

"Do what you will," he continued sharply, "but someone as brilliant," the word dripped with sarcasm, "as you should know the importance of a good education. And that's what you want, isn't it, Miss Granger? A good education?" She was torn. Of course her education was important to her. But what if Grandeville spread slander about the apprentice that walked out on him? However, Snape was the best potioneer there was, according to her research. She looked up at him, chewing her lip nervously, and nodded curtly. 

"You're right," she hated to admit it. His smirk caught her off guard and he motioned her up to Hogwarts Castle. 

---

His quarters were bigger than she expected, with several rooms and walls covered by full bookshelves. 

"Your room will be this way," His hand was on her back again, steering her away from the books and toward an open door to a smallish bedroom. It had a bed and a dresser. Simple, yet comfortable looking enough that Hermione couldn't complain. 

"My things are back at the Grandeville Estate." She turned back to look at him. He nodded and crossed to a table in his sitting room where he scribbled something on a small piece of parchment and sent it through the Floo. She watched from the doorway in confusion. 

"It will be here before the morning." He said simply. She nodded. 

It was only 3:07 in the afternoon, but Hermione was exhausted. He considered her from the sitting room. 

"You've not been sleeping." His comment was short and curt, but the concern in the words were not missed. "Was Grandeville aware of this?" 

"Neither have you." Hermione said, inclining her head toward him, "And it's none of his--or your--business."

She didn't miss the flash of frustration that crossed his face. 

"As a matter of fact, it is," he said. His voice was lowered to barely above a whisper and he strode toward her. "Fatigue causes accidents in the laboratory, which causes a dangerous work area for you and your partner. Curious," he cocked his head, only a foot away from her, "I would have thought someone as smart as you would have known that." She blushed and lowered her face. 

"What's the excuse, then? Nightmares?"

"What's yours?" She snapped back, meeting his eyes again. "Your bruises are deeper than mine, Professor. What danger are you?" He sneered at her. 

"We'll be sure to find soon enough." He said softly. But Hermione wasn't sure who he meant.