For those reading this story as it's being written, by the time this chapter is posted I have done some editing on the previous chapters.
It's not what I'd consider major changes in plotting, though each chapter now starts with an extra bit anyone reading this might find interesting to keep an eye on. These fragments will play a role eventually, so keep them in mind :D
Please consider leaving a review, I'm so curious to see what you think :)
Chapter 4. Lions and Serpents
394. Asphodelus(Asphodel). Asphodel is a plant often associated with death for its slightly pallid, grey colour. This connection is already established in Greek Mythology: it was planted on graves and often connected with Persephone – the goddess of the underworld – who in many depictions appears to be crowned with a garland of the flowers of this plant, which have six petals and grow together in the shape of an upturned pinecone. Building on the connection with death, the plant is often used by individuals to symbolise regrets that will follow them to the grave. It has been said the roots can remedy poisonous snake bites, and even fight the effects of bites inflicted by magical serpent creatures.
" ... and an 'acceptable' for Malfoy for insubordinance when I requested the pear-shaped vials, and lastly McKinnon gets an exceeds expectations for 'learning attitude' this lesson. For next week I want you all to write 2 feet of parchment on the correct applications on avoiding the toxic properties of wolfsbane petals while preparing the plant for potions."
These instruction we're followed by loud groans, but Snape didn't even bat an eyelid at this. "You're seventh years, you'll be taking your exams in a few months and it would be preferable if you knew how not to kill yourselves in order to take them. Class dismissed."
Impatient shuffling of chairs and tables almost blurred out his additional request. "Speaking of exams, I'd like to talk to the following people in order; Olivia Byrd, Conall Frazer and," he paused for the briefest of moments as he looked around the departing students with a smirk, fixing on the curly haired young woman who was just turning to leave, "...Hermione Granger."
She had been sitting in on a seventh year potions lesson. Some of her (ex-)classmates shot her curious looks, though she decided to shrug and feign ignorance, as this was much easier than actually explaining the situation.
Hermione and Conall, a tall, good-looking 7th year Gryffindor with whom Hermione shared the occasional study session, hung back while Snape talked to Olivia.
As Hermione was both a war heroine and a few years older than the rest, she had a reputation that preceded her on every level. Conall leant in closer. "What on earth have you done? He never needs to see you," he whispered.
Deciding not to want to appear to be a teacher's pet, she laughed and rolled her eyes. "I suppose he wants to tell me off in private for raising my hand to often and not giving the students a moment to think."
"Always the critic," Conall nodded. A few seconds later he was called forward.
Olivia gave Hermione a small wave as she walked towards the door, her dark brown hair fluttering behind her. She looked okay, so Hermione gauged that Snape was not having one of his I-will-make-everyone's-life-miserable days. She sighed with relief and studied her nails while Snape and Conall rounded up. Remarkably, the dungeons had become less gloomy and dank during since the war; in fact the whole castle seemed fresher. She supposed that McGonagall had invested in proper ventilation in these particularly old parts of the ancient castle. Even though for the time when it was built the plumbing was rather advanced – considering the chamber and the elaborate pipes down below – the founders had not always kept an eye on the ventilation in the long run. Still studying the wall, she thought about how homely the castle had always felt, even despite its enormous size, until a slow, deep voice interrupted her train of thought.
"I presume the walls look irresistibly interesting miss Granger, but I do not have all day." He said from behind his desk.
She walked over with her chin up and shoulders back, determined not to be outdone by his attempt to intimidate her. "So, you wanted to see me," she stated, knowing full-well what this would be about.
"Two days have elapsed miss Granger, what has your brilliant mind told you to do?", said Snape punctuating every word with precision. He attempted to look decisively uninterested, but a minuscule tightening of the grip on his quill revealed he cared a little more about what her answer would be than he was willing to let on.
Although he should have known better than to doubt the war heroine in front of him, he had half expected her Gryffindor courage to fail her this time. His eyes widened a tiny amount when she replied with a peremptory 'yes'.
Snape felt conflicted. On hand he started this whole plan to let her do the dirty work, but on the other hand but he was fairly certain that if he needed an assistant anyway, he'd rather have Hermione than many of the others that had whined to be his assistant over the years. He had, on a few rare occasions, allowed someone to follow in his wake, but usually no longer than a day or two, let alone a few weeks, but he had never really offered someone an internship of his own accord.
Even now he was only doing it to get even without out-right having to thank her in person for saving his life. He was sure he could provide Hermione with enough potions knowledge to clear his own conscience, and she would – hopefully – not be as interfering as the young man he'd misjudged a decade and a half ago; a seemingly bright and honest student who turned out to prefer raiding Snape's personal storage cupboard. Well, he thought, even if she can be a know-it-all, at least she is meticulous and studious, and importantly: not a thief.
"But –" she stated. Snape's carefully placed mask cracked just a little when he frowned minimally in surprise: he had not expected 'conditions'.
" – I want you to teach me a potion of my choice every two-weeks" she finished, raising a challenging eyebrow. A strange feeling boiled within him. Indignation? Anger? He couldn't quite put his finger to it, but he felt like he was being played like a puppet on a string.
The tension was palpable; a lion and a serpent staring each other down, waiting to see who would strike first. Snape put his hands flat on the surface of his polished ebony desk, and rose from his chair slowly and deliberately, not breaking eye contact as he loomed over Hermione in all his dark intimidation.
His stare bore down on her, but she refused to yield.
"And... for what purpose would that be?" he asked finally, conceding that the infernal young woman was uninfluenced. He had to give her that, as her peers and sometimes even his own peers were fairly easily unsettled by his trademark stare.
She didn't want to flatter him, but infuriatingly she had to. "I know being your apprentice is a very desired position, but apart from that privilege alone, which you have so kindly offered to me, I desire some kind of compensation in return. As money would feel both excessive – we are both recipients of a generous war stipend – and awkward, I desire knowledge that only a true potions master can divulge."
"I think it is up to me, miss Granger, to put conditions into place."
"I think it is up to me, professor, to propose conditions under which I either accept or refuse your offer," she countered.
Bugger. He thought, she had him cornered and she knew it.
He had to admit this was a very Slytherin thing to think of, and a very Gryffindor thing to bring it up in conversation. Compared to what she had seen during what was supposed to have been her seventh year – he guesssed– his non-verbal intimidation was just another heated look in a row of many. After encountering Bellatrix' torture, Snape rising from behind his desk was about as frightening as someone leaving a breakfast table while still half asleep.
He knew the war had hardened her as it had many people. But with Hermione in particular, after her return to Hogwarts, he could see how that just a little the Gryffindor spring in her step had subsided, and when she carried her books, her shoulders tensed just a fraction more than necessary – than before the war – and even though she raised her hand just as often, some of the eagerness had diminished.
He knew because he too, still suffered. Even though he was an skilled occlumens, at night, when mental wards were weaker, horrible memories still made it to the surface. He often woke up heaving and bathing in sweat, clawing at the fading mark on his forearm. For a fleeting moment he wondered what Hermione's residual damage was.
Snape could find no argument sufficient to counter her request. With an exasperated sigh the potions master pinched the skin between his eyebrows and his hair fell forward. "Provided I get a say in whether I deem them appropriate for others to be acquainted with and use in any way they desire." He declared from under the curtain of ink-black locks.
"You can't honestly suspect me of any dark intentions Severus."
"Take it or leave it miss Granger. And that is Professor Snape to you."
"Okay, professor, I'll agree to that."
He was beginning to wonder if clearing his conscience in this way was the best idea, but there was no backing out now. He'd been a double spy for Merlin's sake, even though he was a solitary man, he should be able to handle a young woman with a thirst for knowledge – even if said woman was a Gryffindor.
Snape held his hand out to shake on it. "You'll be present in at least one lesson each week – eventually I might let you teach one - and on Wednesday and either Saturday or Sunday evening, you'll help me prepare ingredients. I'll teach you your potion of choice during or after the Saturday or Sunday sessions."
"Naturally, professor" she said as she received a surprisingly gentle but firm handshake.
With a finalising nod the two parted. Hermione slung bag over her shoulder, turned and strutted away with her head held high, while behind her, Snape sank back in his chair to go over the recently handed-in essays.
.~-~-~-.
Later in the evening, Hermione had made herself comfortable on a soft couch in front of a lively hearth in the prefect's common room, leaving the beautiful window view to the garden on her right. This day had been exhausting, with a 5 hours practice prep for some students – no breaks – in the afternoon, the conversation with Snape, and preparations for Arithmancy practise and a ton of reading for History of Magic. The latter subject she still had to finish 2 chapters for, which is why she had brought a big mug of tea to fuel herself through those final pages for the evening.
She tried, but couldn't help herself when she dozed off on the couch in the comforting embrace of wood-fueled warmth. Her dreamless and soothing sleep lasted until about 10 minutes after the Hogwarts tower struck midnight. It was at that moment Draco made his way back from the library which closed at midnight, and gave Hermione a rude awakening with a pillow, as he'd tossed it from a large reading chair and hit her square in the head.
She shot up in shock. "What in Merlin's name was that good for?!"
The blonde young man laughed at her indignant look. "Sleeping is what you do in bed Granger!" He winked at her. "Well, that and other things!"
"Prat! That nearly cost me my mug AND my book!"
He waved his hands in mock-concern. "Shh, you'll wake the prefects."
"Oh Merlin, Draco!" She groaned exasperatedly as she made her way the door on the left.
The curly-haired woman stormed out, leaving behind a sniggering Draco Malfoy.
Out in the torch-lit corridor she turned right, and then left after a few metres to find the comfort of her own, private, head-girl room. To her surprise, on the floor was a letter with her name in slender and elongated writing, but no specific address. It must have come from someone inside Hogwarts.
The wax seal was midnight blue, decorated with the image of a pinecone shaped cluster of six-petal flowers that had long and narrow filaments in the center. She wedged it off with her thumbnail and swiftly pulled the parchment out of the envelope.
"Coming Monday, first period, you will attend a tutorial for third year Gryffindors and Slytherins. We will be discussing the theory behind the forgetfulness potion; you might want to prepare yourself. On Wednesday, meet me in front of the large potions classroom at 7:30 to help me prepare ingredients.
Yours truly,
Severus Snape"
AN: Please consider leaving a review if you've read until here (which I really appreciate by the way, thank you for taking the time out of your day!) :) when I'm struggling to write, reviews are what keep me going. Next chapter, the first lesson Hermione attends as assistant.
Ooh six-six petal flowers in a pinecone shaped cluster? hmmm, where in these chapters did we mention a plant? and what does said plant look like according to ye olde encyclopedia (or google images haha)?