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Chapter 7: Hermione Victorious.
The week passed in a haze of stress for Hermione. She was snowed under with homework, and the book Snape had told her to read was quite tedious and boring. Often, she found herself reading the same sentence over and over, without taking in its meaning at all. It was all about past Potioneers and their achievements in Potions. To be frank, she couldn't see how it was relevant to her in the slightest, but she supposed that would become clear over time.
In hindsight, she should really have completed the Potions and Arithmancy work on Monday night. It didn't help that she had had to catch up on that work before even beginning anything else, because it meant that she was a day behind on everything. This wasn't like her. Usually her homework would be completed the day that it was set and she would be on top of things. If she was going to do well in her NEWTs and pass her apprenticeships, she was really going to have to give herself a kick up the backside. Memories of her third year made her want to get back on top of everything, as she didn't want to be the zombie that she was back then - that pale, withdrawn and highly anxious young woman was a person she never wanted to be again.
However, the weekend came and gave her two full days without more homework being piled on her. She utilised the time effectively, and had all of the following week's work completed by dinnertime on Sunday night. As a result, she was well rested for the beginning of the next week, and before she knew it, it was Monday night once again and she was stood in the common room, ready for her next apprenticeship lesson with Snape.
"Remember, keep it cool," Harry advised.
"Talk about role reversals," said Hermione, smiling. "You're sounding more like me every day."
"Yeah, that's because I'm not the one getting wound up by Snape anymore."
"Hm. True."
"Don't worry. You know what Snape's like. If you just keep calm, he won't bother you. He won't want to have any more extra contact with you than he has to."
Hermione laughed. "Thanks Harry. Tell Ron I'll be back just after nine. I'm going to make a start on the homework we got today, and he said he needed some help with it at lunch."
"Why, where is Ron?" Harry asked, looking puzzled.
"Evidently not here," Hermione laughed.
"Yeah. Okay then. Can I join in on the study session?" he asked, staring at Hermione innocently.
Hermione knew that Harry was really asking for help with his homework too. "Go on, then," she said, smirking and shaking her head
"Cheers Hermione! Have fun."
"Hm. I'm going to spend two hours with Snape in a cold, dark, draughty dungeon classroom trying to ignore him as he snipes, nags and insults me in the hope that he can provoke me into quitting my apprenticeship. What isn't fun about that?" Hermione said lightly.
"Sounds like the perfect way to spend a Monday night to me," Harry smiled. "See you later."
"See you," Hermione said over her shoulder as she walked out of the common room. She hurried down all of the staircases and, arriving at the dungeons at one minute to seven, she knocked on the door.
"Enter."
Keep calm, Hermione told herself. Inhaling deeply, she pushed open the heavy wooden door and entered the classroom.
"Close the door," Snape ordered, without looking up from his work.
Hermione did as she was told. The loud clunk of the door held a certain finality to it, as if it were sealing her permanently in the room. Task completed, she turned back to face the Potions Master.
Snape carried on writing for several minutes. Hermione was getting a little restless, but she supposed this was what Snape wanted. She schooled her features into an expression of polite expectance and willed herself to stay perfectly still, to not shuffle impatiently. She stayed that way for at least five minutes.
Finally, he lay down his quill on his desk. "Did you complete the homework I gave you?"
"Yes, sir."
"Very well. I'd like to ask for the textbook back."
Hermione pulled the book out of her bag, noticing from the corner of her eye that Snape's expression changed from neutral to one of mild annoyance. He thought that I wouldn't bring it, Hermione thought triumphantly. As she turned around, his face assumed its previous neutral expression. Smirking inwardly but keeping her face as neutral as his, she handed him the book and settled into her chair.
"I thought that we should begin with one of, if not the most, difficult Potion on the NEWT syllabus. Tonight you will begin to brew Amortentia. As this Potion takes three weeks to stew and some ingredients have to be added at weekly intervals, this can be a project that will be ongoing whilst you learn the basics of advanced brewing."
Now he's hoping I've not brought my NEWT potions book.
"I assume you haven't brought your copy of Advanced Potion Making?" he asked cynically.
Way ahead of you, Snape.
"Actually, I have," Hermione replied, promptly retrieving it from her bag.
Snape blinked.
"Very well. Begin," he said, turning back to his desk.
Two-nil, Hermione thought gleefully.
She started work on the Amortentia. Soon enough, she could see why this was one of the most difficult Potions to brew. She was double-checking each stage as she worked as the Potion was very finicky, and she wanted to get it right. The last thing she needed was to show herself up in front of Snape once again.
He had taken to watching her every move as he had in their previous session, trying to throw her off her stride. Hermione did her best to ignore him, though it was difficult knowing that those onyx eyes were boring into her.
"Are you sure that that is the correct quantity of Ashwinder eggs, Miss Granger?" Snape asked suddenly.
Hermione faltered.
Was she sure? What was Snape up to? Was he trying to help her, trying to prevent a catastrophe, or was he trying to trick her? Or was he trying to induce her arrogance so that she would defy him, only to slip up?
Keep calm, she told herself, pushing her Gryffindor tendencies below the surface. Think logically. Running her finger along the instructions, she realised that he was trying to make her doubt herself.
"Yes, sir, I'm sure." She added the eggs and the potion gave a satisfying hiss. Smiling smugly to herself, she saw that Snape looked disappointed. Hermione looked back at her textbook. Add three hearts of crocodile, she read. Pulling the hearts out of her Potion kit, she noticed Snape raise his eyebrows.
It was very difficult to concentrate with him scrutinising her every move.
Add three hearts of crocodile, the instructions still said.
Under Snape's close scrutiny, she did as the instructions told her, and it proved to be right decision once again.
The remainder of the lesson carried on in that fashion: Hermione following the instructions, Snape making her doubt herself, Hermione checking the instructions again and proving herself right by carrying out the correct method. She noticed with humour that Snape was getting increasingly frustrated with it, which made every correct action feel that much more satisfying.
At nine o'clock, Snape finally said, "Bottle your concoction. You may leave."
Exhausted, Hermione carefully cleared away, making sure that she didn't knock anything over, and quickly exited the classroom. When she was a safe distance from the dungeons, she punched the air triumphantly.
This time, I win.
Severus waited until Granger had closed the door before he finally allowed his neutral expression to slip into one of utter annoyance.
Bloody annoying GRYFFINDOR!
If he acted like that with any other student, they would be reduced to a nervous wreck trembling in their seat! What was wrong with that girl? Why was she so resilient?
He extinguished the lights in the classroom and took his work into his rooms. Throwing the third years' essays haphazardly onto his coffee table, he went to his drinks cabinet and extracted a bottle of Firewhisky. He grabbed a goblet, poured a large measure into it and drank it in one. After pouring a second, he placed the bottle on the coffee table and drained the second one.
Placing the now empty goblet on the table, he sank back into his sofa and rubbed his eyes with the heels of his hands. That girl would be the death of him, she really would. How had she managed to withstand him? His scrutiny must have been very off-putting, his remarks very discouraging. Yet she had ploughed on relentlessly, and entirely correctly. The candlelight had made her face shine, each expression of triumph glowing more brilliantly on her delicate features...
Severus furrowed his brow. Where had that come from?
He conjured the picture of her face again in his mind's eye. There was nothing remarkable about her face; it was ordinary. Everything about her was ordinary, right down to those slender, dexterous fingers chopping ingredients.
Severus sat bolt upright and he shook himself. His eyes rested on the bottle on the coffee table. It must be the drink, he decided.
Brushing the bottle and goblet aside, he turned to the essays and began marking them, not allowing his thoughts to stray anywhere near a certain infuriating Gryffindor girl.
"Harry! I did it!" Hermione cried happily as she ran into the common room.
"What did you do?" Harry asked, looking up from his Herbology essay. Even through her euphoria, she noticed that he seemed stressed and hadn't made much headway.
"Snape was baiting me all the time! And I ignored him!"
Harry grinned. "Tell me what happened."
Hermione told him all of the events of that night in minute detail - how Snape had acted, his questioning glances at every step, how she had responded and kept her cool, and Snape's obvious frustration by the end of the lesson.
By the end Harry was laughing, the tension ebbing from his face. "Good for you, Hermione."
"I know. I was really proud of myself, I didn't rise to a single thing he said or did."
"But I bet he paid you back hundredfold with your homework, though." Harry guessed.
Hermione froze.
"Hermione?" Harry asked.
"He didn't give me homework!" Hermione said with a startled laugh.
"You're kidding!"
"No! I think I actually annoyed him so much he forgot to give me homework because he just wanted me out of his sight!"
"Wow," Harry mused. "That's a first for old Snape. Wait 'til you tell Ron."
"Where is he, anyway?" Hermione asked suddenly, looking around the common room for him.
"I have no idea, I haven't seen him since dinner."
Right on cue, Ron walked through the portrait door, his red hair slightly ruffled. He had a very distracted air about him as he walked aimlessly into the common room.
"Ron, over here!" Hermione called.
Ron jumped slightly at the sound of Hermione's voice. He walked over to them and sat down.
"Where have you been? Your hair is a mess," Hermione said, smoothing it gently.
"Erm... I went for a walk. It's windy. Thought you had a lesson tonight?"
"Ron, its quarter past nine, my lesson's finished."
"Tell him what happened with Snape, Hermione," Harry urged.
Hermione told Ron the story. Afterwards, he managed a small smile.
"That's my girl," he said quietly, looking down at the floor dejectedly.
His behaviour was worrying Hermione. "Ron, are you okay?"
"I'm fine, just tired. I think I'll turn in. Night," he murmured.
He kissed Hermione's forehead, lingering a little longer than necessary and turned away. Hermione saw his profile as he walked up the stairs and thought he looked downright depressed.
Hermione turned to Harry. "What's up with him?"
Harry looked concerned. "I'm not sure. But he's not been acting right since... well, since Fred died," he said quietly.
"Oh... Poor Ron," Hermione breathed sympathetically.
"Yeah."
The rest of the night passed in near silence, only punctured by Harry asking for Hermione's help with his essay. They worked diligently until they were fully up to date with their homework, at which point they retired for the night.
Lying comfortably under the warm sheets, Hermione's thoughts turned to her boyfriend. She hated knowing that he was unhappy and there wasn't much she could do to make him feel better. Perhaps that was why he had gone for a walk – maybe he had just needed some space to deal with his grief. She only hoped that he would start to feel better soon. At least telling him what had happened with Snape that night had coaxed a tiny smile out of him.
It had brought a big one to her face, too.
Hermione was immensely proud of how she had handled her Potions lesson that night. Now she had done it once, she knew that she could do it every lesson. She wouldn't have any problems with it at all. However, she did hope that Snape would desist in his attempts to antagonise her. Their lessons would be far more tolerable that way.
Either way, though, she would get through it. Of that, she was certain.
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