I do still exist, I swear. I know it's no excuse, but if it makes a difference, life's been rough. Hopefully I'm back to stay though.

I folded my last pair of robes, and stored them in my open trunk. I grabbed my pillow from the bed, shut my trunk, and levitated the pair, slowly beginning my descent from Gryffindor Tower. It had been decided by Dumbledore that it would be easier for all involved if I were to relocate to the dungeons, given that the treatment would involve dosages at odd hours, and round the clock observation.

When I finally reached the dark hall, I tapped nervously on his door. He swung it open almost immediately, without a word, and I hesitated before stepping in.

"Ms. Granger, if these are to be your quarters as well now, you do not need my permission to enter. I had a new wing added; if you look to your immediate left, you'll see that door – it leads to your chambers. There is a separate door out as well, but you are welcome to use this one."

I nodded, and cautiously approached the door, opening it and slowly stepping inside the place that was to be my new home. I was met with shock – the room was bright, decorated in warm maroons and golds, and a fire was already burning in the hearth. Off of the common room was a bedroom, decorated in similar shades, with a large four-poster, a bureau and mirror, and a small, wooden desk.

I turned to say something, anything, to him, thank him in some way, but he was gone.

Upon further exploration of my rooms, I discovered a small bathroom as well, and decided to shower and redress in something comfier. If I was going to be living with the man, he may as well get used to seeing me in something other than robes. I started the shower, turning the water to the hottest setting, and undressed, grabbing my bag of toiletries from my bed. I stowed my shampoo and conditioner on the shower ledge, and grabbed a bar of soap from the sink.

I stood under the hot spray, relishing the warmth on my sore body. After a few minutes, I began washing my hair out, only to notice that there were four bottles of hair products in the shower – two of my own possession, and two that I didn't recognize. Each had been labeled, in small handwriting: shampoo, conditioner. Deciding it couldn't hurt (although I knew this to be ultimately untrue – it indeed could hurt) I uncorked the bottle labeled shampoo, and gently lathered it into my thick curls. As I rinsed it out, I reached for the second bottle, smoothing its contents into my hair. While it soaked in, I began washing with the bar of soap.

I heard a bang from outside, and a muffled curse, and I immediately froze, the bar of soap clutched to my slippery skin. I peaked my head from behind the curtain; cheeks tinged pink, and looked about. After a few moments of silence, I shrugged to myself and returned to my shower. I rinsed off, and stepped out, wrapping myself in a fluffy red towel. A small bottle of lotion had also been provided by my shockingly considerate flat-mate, which I used, before dressing in sweatpants and a t-shirt. My old roommates had dedicated plenty of time trying to convince me to desist from wearing muggle pajamas, but something about them reminded me of home, which I wasn't willing to give up.

I quietly returned to my rooms, and entered the main hallway, finding myself in our small, shared kitchen. At the opposite end of the room, a wooden door was ajar, and from where I was standing, I could see shelves of books, and a desk covered in papers.

"Professor?" I called, quietly. There was no immediate response, but after a few seconds, he appeared in the doorway.

"Yes, Ms. Granger?" he asked, equally softly. I blinked at him, surprised; he was standing before me, hair pulled back, wearing only dark pants and an untucked, white button down.

"I, um, I wasn't sure if you usually did anything for dinner, but, I figured you, um, maybe wouldn't want to go to the Great Hall, so maybe I could, well – I could make us something." I stammered. He looked shocked, and then nodded slowly.

"That would be lovely, Ms. Granger. If I can be of any assistance, please, allow me to be." He sat at the small table while I assessed the contents of the fridge, pulling out a pack of chicken, and a few assorted vegetables. I found rice, in one of the cabinets, and set Professor Snape to chopping the vegetables while I cleaned the chicken.

Within the hour, the kitchen was felt with the aromas of stir-fry, and my stomach growled as I stirred the mixture on the stove. When the water next to me began boiling, I instructed my companion to add rice, which he did with all the dexterity of a potions master. Finally, our meal was prepared, and we sat across from each other, eating in silence, but enjoying ourselves none-the-less.

When we were finished, we both rose, and I washed the dishes, while he dried and put them away. It only took a few minutes to clean up, and after the last dish had been dried, there was a moment of awkward silence, before the potions master cleared his throat.

"If you would like, Ms. Granger, you are welcome to join me in my study. I usually spend the evenings reading." I quietly accepted, and followed him into the room full of books. He moved ahead of me, immediately closing the book that was open on his desk, but not before I noted what chapter he was on – the chapter on curing deadly diseases.