I don't own anything. Sadly...
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Chapter One
Salix Alba
A steely gaze looked out over the quiet room of the dungeon. Double potions with seventh years, just his
luck. Severus Snape was just as happy about the schedule as the Seventh year Slytherins and Griffindors
were. He was aware of the soft whispering near the back of the room, the golden trio was sitting there,
discussing something that most-likely had nothing to do with essay they were supposed to be writing.
He hissed in anger,
"Weasley! What is the main medicinal property of the Salix Alba root?"
He was aiming to catch the boy off guard and did just that. The red head sat there, lips moving no noise
coming out. He was at a loss for an answer. Snape smiled, black eyes glittering like jewels. Seeing Hermione lean over to supply an answer he spoke again.
"Granger, I did not ask the answer from you, gods know the insufferable know-it-all has the answer."
Hermione slowly leaned away, blushing furiously as the Slytherins in the room smirked at her, some leaning to whisper rude comments to each other. She let her untamed curls fall into her face, trying to hide as Ron sat beside her, still looking like a blathering idiot. Once again the harsh steely tone of Snape's voice cut the silence,
"One would think that they could answer this question after I assigned the reading that covered the properties of different types of the Salix root. Granger, since you must, in fact be itching to answer my question, do enlighten us on the matter."
Hermione once again blushed a deep shade of red, her brown eyes averting from the cold gaze that assaulted her at the moment. She spoke with an unwavering voice though, supplying a efficient answer.
"Salix Alba, or White Willow Root had many uses, its medicinal uses usually are used for simple aches and pains and to reduce severe fever. Its uses have been dated back to 5BC when Hippocrates wrote about its uses."
She sighed after speaking, blushing a deeper red if even possible as Snape looked upon her with utter disgust.
"Correct Granger." he hissed as he turned around, facing the chalk board. "I want 2 feet of parchment on the uses of Salix root and what potions its commonly found in tomorrow. Bring your essays to my desk, class dismissed."
The class groaned seemingly all together as they heaped their essays on his desk and hurried from the dungeon, nothing sounded less appeasing than staying in the dungeon with an irritated old bat.
Hermione was one of the last people out of the dungeon, placing a neatly written essay upon all the others. Books in hand she began to leave but something caught Snape's eye, causing him to call after the know-it-all Gryffindor. One of her socks, took big to stay up on her leg had drooped down, revealing an angry red scar. Just looking at it in that split second told him it was a recent wound and a nasty one at that.
"Granger!" he called her, causing her to stop in mid-step, cringing as his voice rang out like the clanging of cold metal. She turned around to look at him, innocence written all over her face, confused chocolate brown eyes failing to hide the fear she felt from him. "What is that on your leg?"
Hermione's face lost a bit of color as she looked down to her leg, but after a split second was set into a mask of cool indifference. Her voice steady, betraying no emotion as she spoke. "Its nothing, good day professor."
Without giving him time to say anything else Hermione hurried from the dungeon as fast as her feet could carry her, robes billowing behind her in her haste. Finding that Harry and Ron were waiting for her near the steps that lead to the common room she slowed down, but still have a brisk pace.
"Jesus Hermione, what the hell took you so long?" Ron asked as she began to climb the stairs.
Harry nodded, wondering the same thing. Hermione seemed a little out of whack, she was avoiding the question, trying to hurry to the common room, and thus, her room. She shook her head at Ron, smiling brightly. A smile that didn't reach her eyes, Harry noted.
"Nothing Ron, I dropped my books and Snape, being the greasy git he is just stood there bothering me." a sigh heaved its way out of her chest as she shrugged. As the portrait of the fat lady came into view they saw Neville struggling to remember the password again.
Striding up to him Hermione smiled, "Pickled Flat Toads." The portrait swung open and Neville smiled thankfully, shaking his head and grabbing at his robes nervously.
"I can never remember the passwords Hermione." he said softly blushing, "You'd think I'd learn by my seventh year."
Hermione grinned at him, patting his shoulder. "It's okay Neville."
Ron nodded a grin creeping across his face, "Yea, we all forget sometimes. Harry forgot to brush his teeth this morning." he wrinkled his nose and ducked as Harry made a move to cuff him upside the head. "And let me tell you, he's got bad breath!" Once again Harry took a swipe at Ron, cuffing him upside the head playfully.
"This is coming from the boy who eats way to much chicken and broccoli casserole and then goes to bed with horrible gas. My god Ron, I had to sleep in the common room the other night."
Hermione smiled sadly at her friends as she slowly made her way across the room unnoticed. Their playful banter putting a cheerful feeling in the room. Slowly she pulled away from the sounds of laughter and cheer. Walking through the door that led to the head girl's room, she silently shut the door behind her.
No one had been in her room before, she guarded her privacy jealously and she did rightly so. The room was dim, the only light coming from the fire that burned merrily in the fireplace. Hermione had transfigured the room slightly to fit her needs. The hearth was huge, made of some dark marble, orange light gleaming on its surface. Several book cases lined the far wall, filled to the ceiling with all assortments of books. A four poster bed sat in the middle of the room, deep red and gold silks resting over the top. A warm smell of cinnamon and vanilla permeated the air of the room, giving it a homely feel.
On the nightstand was an assortment of vials, several different potions all labeled according to their uses. Hermione crossed the room with the stiffness of an old woman and sat down heavily on the bed near the table, hissing slightly in pain. Shoes and socks were quickly shed from her, school robes draped across the velvet throw on her bed. The firelight cast orange onto her pale skin, highlighting the angry red marks on her arms and legs. These marks were consistent to those left by curses that cut the skin. They would heal, but eventually fade to silver-white scars.
A sigh escaped the girl as she applied a salve and downed a few potions. Weariness overcame her within a few moment and she fell into a deep dreamless sleep.
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Salix Alba - the scientific term for the white willow tree.