Chapter 1 ~ Granger Services, Inc.

Severus Snape stood outside of a very small, windowless brick building with an unassuming red door. His pale face was contorted with indecision. He was in Hogsmeade, on a side street and dressed as usual in his severe black robes. It was summertime and school was out, so he didn't have much to do at Hogwarts other than read, brew, and have the occasional Firewhisky.

After his close call with death, and the downfall of Voldemort, life had become—dull. The furor of the Dark Lord's demise had died down and the wizarding world returned to normal. After years of spying and risking life and limb, Severus Snape was just another teacher.

Unlike the other heroes, Snape wasn't very popular with the masses. While Harry and Ron were smothered in adoring witches and poontang, no one had any interest in showing Snape a little gratitude. Snape hadn't been laid in many, many, many years.

He'd only done it twice and the first time he was so quick, he didn't get much out of it other than the embarrassment of quick ejaculation. The second time wasn't much better because the witch complained the entire time that he wasn't doing it right. That hurt his confidence and then he became embroiled in saving the world from Voldemort. He immersed himself in the task and it served to keep his mind off of carnal matters.

Impending death was good that way.

But now, he didn't have that. And he really didn't have the social skills to fit into a society devoid of danger. Most of his adult life was spent keeping secrets and avoiding close associations. His last close association had been with Lily Evans, and that hadn't ended well at all. Lack of social skills also meant a lack of female company. He didn't have the slightest idea of how to make small talk with a woman he didn't know.

There were prostitutes, of course, but Snape could never bring himself to approach one. They were also women he didn't know, and if you could say anything about Severus Snape, it was that he had trust issues. Not to mention he was afraid he'd catch some kind of terrible wizarding STD, no matter what precautions he took. And he didn't like how bold they were. They were sexually intimidating.

But, he couldn't help coming here once he heard the news. He could hardly believe it.

Following Voldemort's death, schools of Advanced Magic began springing up all over. Higher education had finally come to the wizarding world. And Hermione was one of the very first to take advantage of the new opportunities. She held a few jobs, but they didn't pay enough and took up a lot of studying time. She needed a more lucrative way to make money.

She found it.

Snape hovered in front of the door, turning away from it slightly when anyone walked past. There were no windows to see inside. Just a small sign next to the door that read: "Granger Services, Inc." in ornate gold script. Underneath it was a buzzer.

"I suppose I could just go in and make an inquiry," Snape muttered to himself, turning away from the door as another person passed.

Inside the shop, Hermione was watching Snape through a magic mirror that rested on her executive desk. Several books were spread out before her, and she smiled as the wizard turned toward the door, then away from it several times.

"Trying to make up your mind whether or not to come in, Professor?" she said to the image softly. His hand lifted to press the buzzer, then fell.

"Maybe a bit of help is in order," Hermione said, taking out her wand and pointing it at the door. "Alohamora."

Snape started as the red door opened just a crack. He blinked at it indecisively, then slowly pushed it open wider.

"Come in, Professor," Hermione said from her desk.

Snape swallowed, then entered the office, closing the door behind him. He didn't advance, however. He stood near the door looking around the office. It was white, with green carpeting. Several floral prints hung on the wall, and there were a number of potted plants. Soft elevator music played in the background. There were three chairs against the far wall and one upholstered chair directly in front of Hermione's desk. Beside it was a small table that had a few finger foods on it.

It didn't look like the kind of place that offered the services he'd heard about. Perhaps he'd been given false information.

"I think I am here in error, Miss Granger," Snape said slowly as he looked at Hermione.

"Oh, you do? Why are you here?" Hermione responded.

Snape reddened.

"I'd been told something so remarkable about you, that I had to come see for myself if it were true. By the looks of this office, it couldn't possibly be true," he said uncomfortably.

"What have you heard?" Hermione asked, smiling inwardly at his discomfort.

"Lucius must have been intent on having a laugh at my expense. He said, he said that you were—"

He hesitated.

"I was what?" Hermione pressed, smiling now.

"Engaging in intimacy for pay," Snape finished. "I'm sorry—"

"Don't be. Lord Malfoy was right. I'm working my way through university. I'm a paid escort. It's a very lucrative field," Hermione replied.

Snape just blinked at her.

"Please, sit down, Professor," Hermione said, offering him the chair in front of her desk.

"You're a prostitute?" he asked her as he glided toward the chair, then sat down.

"Well, that depends on how you look at it, Professor. I am paid for sex, but don't engage just anyone who walks in here. Whether or not I share my services depends on a number of factors. A prostitute does anyone. I don't. For example, I'd never shag Ron or Harry if they walked in here for that. I'd hex their nads off."

"I don't think either Mr. Weasley or Mr. Potter needs to pay for female companionship," Snape replied a bit bitterly. Hermione looked sympathetic.

"No, they don't. Plenty of witches are attracted to them because they are heroes," she agreed.

"Being a hero isn't enough in my case," Snape said, then reddened again. There was silence for a moment, then he ventured, "What kind of factors help you make your decision?"

"Well, my bank account, for one. If I have enough money to do what I need to do, pay for school and this place, then, I don't need to accept clients."

"I see," Snape said.

That made sense.

"Would you mind telling me your—your rates?"

"Of course. There's only one price. Five hundred Galleons," she replied coolly.

Snape spluttered at the huge amount of money she was asking for.

"That's insane! People pay that?"

"Yes," she replied.

"I imagine you don't do much business," he muttered.

Five hundred Galleons? He could fill the Great Hall with prostitutes for that much!

"I don't have to do much business. That's the idea. Remember, I'm a hero, too, Professor. Sleeping with me is like making history. Besides, I am paying for my tuition. With the amount of classes I'm taking, it isn't cheap. My price just reflects that."

Snape scowled at her.

"What could you possibly do that warrants such a large sum?" he asked her, unable to believe any wizard would pay that much for a tumble. "Surely, you aren't charging just for the privilege?"

Hermione gave him a rather naughty smirk.

"Of course not. The first thing I put in here after I made my first five thousand Galleons was a Room of Requirement. A client can have nearly any scenario he likes. Even classroom scenarios."

Snape's lips pressed together tightly.

"And I have very good skills. I do oral, anal, and 'specialties.' I also present my clients with my latest health report, insuring that I have no diseases and am in perfect health. You can't get that with a prostitute off the street," she added.

"But, what about your morals? Your ethics? You are selling your virtue for money," Snape said.

It was Hermione's turn to scowl.

"Professor, I didn't come into this a virgin, believe me. So, my 'virtue' as you so archaically put it, is non-existent. I focus almost all my attention on my studies. I don't have the time or the inclination to have a boyfriend. It's too time-consuming and complicated. Normally, if I were feeling randy, I'd go to a club and pick up a wizard for a bit of boot-knocking. That's perfectly acceptable these days. But this way, I can have sex AND earn my way while doing it. Prostitution IS legal in the wizarding world, you know. And a thriving business. Morals and ethics don't come into it at all. Well, not too much. There are certain requirements I have, such as if a wizard is married he has to have the written consent of his wife. Lucius Malfoy is my best customer."

"How many customers do you have?" Snape inquired curiously.

"Let's just say several. And I've had no complaints," Hermione replied evenly. "Each client believes it is money well spent."

Snape stood up.

"Well, it's far too much," he stated flatly.

"If you say so," Hermione said, giving him another smile.

"I'm going to go. It was a waste of my time coming here."

"I'm sorry about that."

Snape scowled at her blackly.

"Far too much money," he repeated.

Hermione nodded.

"Good day to you," Snape said, turning towards the door.

"You can send me an owl if you change your mind and want to make an appointment. I really don't need the money right now, but I've always had a bit of a crush on you, Professor," Hermione said softly.

Snape turned back toward her swiftly.


"I've had a thing for you since, well, since forever. I couldn't tell you, of course. I was a student, after all."

"For me. You had a thing—for me."


"Ridiculous! You're just trying to entice me to spend such an absurd amount of money."

Hermione shrugged.

"Don't believe me, then," she said. "But like I said, you can send me an owl for an appointment any time."

"Never," he seethed, then stormed out of the door, slamming it hard behind him.

Hermione smiled after him, then returned to her studies.

"Pure insanity!" Snape fumed as he paced back and forth in front of his fireplace at Hogwarts. His familiar, Raucous, was perched on the back of one of two armchairs in front of the fireplace, watching his master with interest.

"Five hundred Galleons. What does she think? That her pussy is made out of solid gold? Or platinum? She's mad. A pure nutter."

Snape continued to mutter to himself.

"A crush on me. Hmph. If she had a crush on me, then she'd do it for free, wouldn't she? No, she's trying to lure me in with that. She couldn't possibly have ever wanted me. No one wanted me. Or wants me."

Snape slowed down at this pronouncement, then stopped, staring into the flames.

It was true. He was alone and unloved. He had no prospects, not the slightest hope of interesting a witch. Plus, she would have to be compatible. He was hard to get along with on his best days.

Was Hermione telling him the truth when she said she had a crush on him? What if she was? It would be nice to have sex with a witch that actually wanted to be with him—even if he had to pay for it. It wasn't as if he didn't have the money. He had plenty of money. Some would consider him nearly wealthy because he didn't ever spend much of his salary over the years at Hogwarts.

It was a lot of money but he could afford five hundred Galleons easily.

But, did he want to spend it?

Two days later, Hermione received a message via a black, snarky-looking raven. She read the message and smiled.

"Wait while I write a reply," she told Raucous, who was standing on her desk. As Hermione wrote, he flew over to the little table of finger foods and helped himself to a bit of rolled ham and cheese.

"Here you—hey! Get out of there! That's for clients, you bloody bird!" Hermione yelled at him.

Completely unruffled, Raucous flew back over and let Hermione tie the message to his leg. When she opened the door to let him out, he dropped a large, wet dropping on her doorsill as he departed.

"You bloody bird!" Hermione yelled after him as he winged away. She Scourgified the mess and closed the door.

"It figures Professor Snape would have a familiar like that," she seethed, sitting back down at her desk.

So, Snape had given in to his baser nature.

Hermione smiled a little wicked smile.

This was going to be stellar, just stellar.

A/N: Lol. This is like "A Change of Venue" in reverse. In that story, Snape was a gigolo making an insane amount of money. This is the flip side. Since again, there's no "Looping" coming and a reader asked me if I would do a Prostitute!Hermione that actually wants to be a prostitute, unlike in "When Good Wizards Go Bad" when she was forced to be in order to survive, I just played around with the idea, the result of which you see here. I don't usually do requests, but since I'm drawing blanks and didn't have an idea of my own to work with, I decided to give it a whirl and do something a little different character-wise. This is a new Snape for me. No sex god at all, and not very confident about his sexual skills. It's something. Thanks for reading.