(Well, here's another chapter! I can't believe that I've gone so long without updating and now suddenly, I can't stop writing!
I really like where this is going. I was lost before but I've got a goal now but I think that you knew that.
And, of course, my thanks goes out to those who are commenting and reading. Without you, I wouldn't have the motivation to keep writing like this!
Like always, let me know what you think or where I'm going with it. I love reading the foreshadowing of the readers!
Anyway, enough of that.
I don't own anything!)
She can't be serious. "You can't be serious." Severus Snape couldn't help but to feel pride for the seventh year student. She was brilliant without a doubt. He hadn't heard her place any spell on the door, meaning that she had, at the very least, a grasping at wordless magick. Such a thing was difficult for much older and experienced witches and wizards, let alone a witch that was still in school.
On the other hand, it had been a long time since a student was brave enough to test his patience so sorely. This showed a certain stupidity that made his blood heat up. He proceeded to stand straight and let go of the door handle. "I demand that you let me out."
Hermione wasn't looking at him but she could practically hear his anger in his seething words. They chilled her ever so slightly but she held her ground against the caged Potion's Master. "Not until you tell me about the Potion." She heard him make a noise like a strangled animal and she softened her approach. "I'm really sorry but I tried to ask you earlier but you left."
"Of course I left, foolish girl. It's none of your business what I do in my spare time, what potions I brew, or what kind of music I fancy. I am your instructor. You are my student. How dare you have the audacity to trap me like this! Now let me out!"
Hermione reacted to his anger and snapped, "Either you tell me about the potion and your reason for brewing it or you'll be my new roommate because I'm not unlocking the door!" Her blind eyes flashed at him, rivaling his own dangerous glare and startling him slightly. Her nostrils flared as she fought to keep her volume down.
Snape studied her and recognized the stubborn passion. Doesn't mean that I'll be honest with her. He walked from the door, circled her bed and stopped in front of her desk. He saw the food on the tray and asked her if she was hungry.
Hermione must have misheard him. She heard him walk from the door and stop somewhere near her desk. She then heard the clink of silverware and she could suddenly smell food.
"I didn't bring this food so that it adds to the décor. Come over here and eat."
She stiffened, not sure how to react. Before she had a chance though, she was grabbed roughly by her upper arms. She protested but was dropped on the desk chair before she got three words out. "Eat." Snape's voice was curt again.
"If I eat, will you tell me?" A fork was placed in her hand by cool fingers.
"Eat," he repeated, sounding very much like a caveman in his singular use of vocabulary. Hermione heard him move away.
Unsure of his sudden change, she felt around in front of her and began to eat the hot pasta from the plate.
Snape stood against the wall about ten feet away from her. He crossed his arms and his legs, suddenly feeling insecure and out of his element. He watched her eat the pasta and move onto the bread, which was still fluffy and warm. Even blind, she moved gently and carefully, feeling with her fingers and never dropping a crumb of food.
When she neared the end of meal and washed it down with a goblet of pumpkin juice, he told her that another vial of dittany extract was just to her left. "You're due for another dose." The tray of food disappeared when she replaced the goblet.
Hermione was actually starting to worry. Where did the anger go? He seems complacent now. Is he willing to talk? Or is he acting…kindly… for the hell of it? She ignored what he said about the dittany on the desk and turned in the direction of her nightstand. "I've already started that vial."
Without any further prompting, he crossed the room and handed it to her. "Just take the dosage."
She did and her vision improved slightly through the stinging. She could now see very fuzzy shapes with varying shades of light and darkness. She could at least make out the outline of Snape standing by her dresser.
He watched as she corked the vial and put it with the other on her desk. "Does it help?"
"With every application, yes." She was looking directly at him now. "I can tell that you're standing by the dresser but I don't see any color and everything is really blurry."
Snape murmured a response that she didn't hear.
The air between them hung thickly for a few minutes and the silence drew out longer until Hermione asked her question quietly. "If you won't tell me why you brewed the potion, can you tell me why you were walking the corridors with it?"
He regarded her through narrowed eyes but answered through tight lips. "The potion was to be brewed underground, but simmered under the first rays of morning. I was carrying the finished product back to the dungeons from the Astronomy Towers in vials when you ran into me and destroyed them."
"Oh." His answer was seemingly a little harsh and she had to bite her tongue to stop from cutting him back. Instead, she asked another question, thinking that it might help to keep it going. "You cancelled your classes to brew it?"
Snape watched as she flinched at his first answer and he felt the tiniest bit guilty. He softened his second answer to her. "Yes. It needed my full attention or it would spoil and be about as useful as a cauldron of pig-" He stopped and rephrased his sentence. "Er… It wouldn't turn out in the correct fashion."
She sighed and stepped into the harsher topic. "I've read about a potion that had all of the ingredients that you told Madame Pomfrey. If brewed correctly, it would make the drinker numb to his emotions." He didn't say anything so she went on. "They use it in St. Mungo's for people who have suffered severe shocks and whatnot. I can't remember the name though…"
"It's called Apathamenta. It shouldn't be a hard word to remember. It does what the name says. 'Apathy'. And you're correct in your rendition of the readings."
"So… that's the potion that you were brewing?" She was hesitant and her thoughts flashed back to the door. She hoped that the charm would hold.
"Yes."
She swallowed hard. "That's what I was afraid of." Her speech was quiet.
"Why?" His voice was snappish again. "Why do you care? Your ailment is not permanent. What concern do you have for the potions that I brew?"
"I-I just thought that-" But she was interrupted by an irate Snape.
"Did you think for a minute that maybe I worked for St. Mungo's in my spare time? Or that I was possibly brewing some for another Healer? Madame Pomfrey does keep a weaker back stock of it in the Hospital Wing. She uses it when these hormone-ridden teenagers have their breakdowns over damned relationships" His voice was quiet in his dangerous manner and he could see Hermione shrinking. He stepped towards her as he continued. "Of course you didn't. You assumed right away that Professor Snape was using it for himself. You guessed that I've used it for a long time. It's why no student has ever seen any emotion other than anger or annoyance from me."
He was right in front of her chair now. He kneeled down and pressed his face close to hers. She could feel his cool breath on her skin and she couldn't move. "Because Hermione Granger has to be right about everything. Doesn't she?"