A/N: First of all a huge thank you to Annie for not allowing me to turn Hermione into a wuss (even I can't justify that). And secondly - thank you so much to all of you who reviewed! You finally kick-started me into finishing this chapter at long last - you're all amazing! Hope you enjoy ;)
Chapter 21
Severus didn't dare to breathe as he slipped into the corridor and lurked behind the pink-haired girl now barely five metres in front of him. Years of creeping into places he shouldn't have meant that Hermione didn't even notice his soft footsteps. He thought briefly of announcing himself and watching her jump, but then decided it would be much better if he discovered what mischief she was getting herself into first.
His eyes narrowed as they tracked her progress. What could she want with the Library at ten to midnight?
oooOOOooo
After she had found the (right) way back to the Castle, Hermione had indulged herself in a hot bath, allowing the warm water soothe away her earlier stress. She should have known the tranquillity wouldn't last; something which was confirmed as the boys intercepted her at the bottom of her dormitory staircase.
They stood in her path, arms folded and looking so much like an investigation squad that Hermione felt a twinge of guilt for no reason. Well... maybe there was a reason.
Before she could get a word in edgeways, Harry grabbed her left arm, Ron grabbed her right, and she found herself frogmarched up to the boys' dormitory; the door locking itself behind them. Hermione did NOT want to know what the people in the Common Room were thinking right now. By tomorrow there would probably be a story about her and her fetish for chains floating around the school.
Not something she was particularly inclined to deal with on top of everything else.
"Alright," said Harry, letting go and folding his arms. "What did you do with it?"
"What did I do with what?"
Harry rolled his eyes. "Before dinner was over, I was busy taking food to a certain someone when I made a rather important discovery. Now, this 'certain someone' looks like another certain someone, but who isn't another certain someone. The certain someone then cheerfully told me he opened a certain thing and gave you another certain thing from it. Seeing as this certain someone has no reason to lie and the certain thing is currently lacking another certain thing, I'd like to know what you did with the other certain thing. Please."
Hermione and Ron shot a glance at each other and then slowly cocked their heads at Harry; Hermione wondering how he'd managed to say all of that in one breath, and Ron wondering what on earth Harry had meant anyway.
Harry – realising he had just lost his only ally to confusion – sighed and studied the ceiling for inspiration. "Hermione, please. Where's the spoon? Because if Snape–"
Hermione held up her hand. "Alright, don't panic. I know what I'm doing, I promise."
"Says the person who turned herself into Catwoman for a day."
"I was twelve! You're going to hold that against me forever, aren't you?"
Ron bumped her shoulder. "'Course; it remains the only time you well and truly screwed up."
Hermione eyed him coldly. "Not helping, Ron. Not one bit. Now," she said, returning her attention to Harry, "give me three good reasons why I should tell you where the spoon is when I know it's already in a safe... ish... place."
Harry held his hand up with a dramatic flourish. "One; if we keep it close by, we can react quicker if Snape catches on. Two... err," he trailed off helplessly.
"If we hang onto it, we can take it away at the end of the year and Snape will never know it's us," Ron supplied helpfully.
Harry snapped his fingers. "Brilliant, Ron! Exactly. And three; if we find a way to safely get rid of the evidence, it would be a good idea to keep it close, so we could do it straight away."
Hermione looked at Harry, then, Ron, then back again, and experienced a sinking sensation which assured her she would not win. She could almost hear how the argument would go from now on; she would bring up new, valid points, and the boys would continue to repeat what they had decided was right until she was ready to curl up in a ball and scream. Still, she had to try...
"Snape tried to use Legilimency on me at dinner," she admitted, already knowing this was a pretty feeble last attempt. "He might have seen something."
Harry frowned. "How long did he have to look around?"
"Only for about a second, but–"
"Then that's settled!" Harry exclaimed, slapping a bedpost in delight. He paused to wince and rub his smarting hand before continuing, "You need at least three seconds to gain proper purchase in someone else's mind. Now, can we have the spoon?" He gave her a winning smile.
Hermione rubbed her forehead wearily. "Tomorrow. It's safe enough for now."
The boys looked crestfallen for a moment but they quickly rallied. "If we haven't got anything better to do, then let's introduce Ron to Snayip!" Harry called, abruptly striding out of the now-unlocked door, Ron following close behind.
Both of them ignored Hermione's incensed cry of "Homework!" She stared after them. "And they say I have mood swings," she muttered quietly before following with resignation.
oooOOOooo
Several hours later, Hermione was wearily checking the clock for what felt like the hundredth time; in fact, it probably was.
Now it was half past eleven, and she was rapidly approaching the moment when she would start to tear her new hair out in lovely, pink chunks. What had essentially been variations on exactly the same conversation had been going the last three hours. More importantly, it had been going on while she had been trying to revise. It was very distracting and, what was even worse, it looked like it was about to start All. Over. Again.
"This is just too weird." Ron leaned forward so he could stare all the better at Snayip. "Is it really, really real?" he stage whispered, poking Snayip three times in an attempt to answer his own question.
Snayip simply raised an eyebrow. "Yes. It. Is," he replied, poking Ron back in time to his words.
Ron didn't seem fazed in the slightest... which was possibly a side effect of having five older brothers. "Wicked!" He paused and eyed Snayip speculatively. "Say, do you think he has any idea how to play wizard chess?" he asked over his shoulder to Harry (who had long since given up even pretending to answer).
Both Harry and Hermione groaned when Snayip, who seemed completely unaware of what he was entering into, innocently asked, "Chess?"
Again.
The problem with having a friend who constantly fluctuated between being old and young also meant several memory lapses... which Ron was conveniently using to his own advantage by explaining the rules of Wizarding Chess over and over and over again.
(Other topics had included Quidditch, Quidditch, and the Chudley Cannons. Even Harry was starting to look like he was playing '100 ways to strangle Ron' in his head.)
Only Arnold – finally back to his original orange – didn't seem to mind his current situation. As far as the foam was concerned, his two favourite humans were getting along splendidly and any reason for that was a valid one.
Hermione massaged her temples with her fingertips, listening carefully to see if the Gryffindor stragglers had finally made it up to bed... Hearing silence, she wasted no time in making a break for the door. "I'm going to the Library. 'Night, guys. Don't wait up for me."
Harry's slightly desperate voice floated after her. "Wait! Hermione, you can't leave me here alone with..."
The portrait of the Fat Lady snapped shut behind a smirking Hermione. Being trapped in a room with a chess maniac and a man with severe attitude swings was not something she envied Harry for even a little bit.
Ten minutes later, she was sneaking along the last dark corridor leading to the Library, revelling in the complete silence around her. She sincerely hoped that she wouldn't meet anyone along the way – not only because it would be difficult for her to explain her presence without receiving a punishment – but also because she was still jittery from the 'incident' at supper. She'd be liable to jump a mile if, say, Professor Snape turned up.
Giving a last, wary glance around outside the huge, oak door, she slipped inside and focused her mind on what she was there for. She was hoping there would be something which might help her find a way to stop Snayip's deterioration. The last thing she wanted was to watch him die. And one thing was for certain; if it came to that, Harry was bound to take it harder than she would. Hmm... Maybe I should also look up therapy techniques for self-harmers while I'm at it. I know he said not to worry, but I can't HELP it. He's my friend and I can't just stand by and do NOTHING.
She was so lost in thought that she didn't even notice one of the many shadows in the corridor had slipped in through the partially open door behind her.
A distant clock began to strike the hour as she efficiently busied herself with picking out and flicking through a number of books she hoped would contain relevant information on both topics. Ten minutes later, and still not feeling a great deal more knowledgeable, her ears finally picked up a faint whisper of fabric shifting close by.
Stilling briefly, she pretended to busy herself with a book, while from the corner of her eye she glimpsed the edge of a cloak whipping out of sight at the end of her aisle.
Her heart beat a little faster as the chilling idea that she was about to be kidnapped flicked across her mind.
Slowly, she slipped her wand into her hand, summoning all of her Gryffindor courage as she crept towards the corner. I'm not afraid. I'm NOT. If she could take them by surprise, then surely she would have the upper hand?
Taking a deep breath, she stepped out from behind the shelves and started to incant...
Straight at Severus Snape's prominent nose.
Oops.
"Miss Granger!"
The words echoed through the Library like a whip crack and she swiftly snapped her mouth shut before she could do any more damage. She'd already attacked this particular teacher once before – she had no desire to do it again.
She had meant to ask, 'What are you doing here, Professor?' but the words "Are you spying on me?" seemed to slip from her mouth, regardless. Oh well, she was probably going to get detention anyway, so she might as well avoid saying anything pointlessly obvious.
"Miss Granger" – this time the voice sounded distinctly uncomfortable – "if you have quite finished with your inanities of the evening, would you be kind enough to point your wand somewhere other than my face?"
"Oh!" Hermione squeaked and hurriedly went to tuck her wand back into her sleeve.
Not quickly enough, it seemed. She heard him growl under his breath and mutter, "Oh, for Merlin's sake!" as he grabbed her hand and forced it away from his body.
They both froze, their gaze riveted upon where their skin touched. A second later, they both snatched their hands away and started studying the nearest bookshelves with the utmost concentration.
"A-hem," Hermione cleared her throat quietly as the silence became painful. "I really am sorry, Professor. I thought... well, I did think I was about to be attacked and so I..."
The man cut off her attempts at a delicate apology with a sharp motion of his hand. "Drawing your wand on a Professor of this school is most certainly not the way a model student should behave! Though I suppose you are not entirely to blame for the situation." His face twisted slowly into a smirk. "Though why a brave Gryffindor such as yourself should be startled by things going bump in the night, I have no idea."
"Oh, hush!" Hermione glared up at him crossly, her irritation at having been so thoroughly 'startled' for nothing winning over her desire to apologise. "If you hadn't been sneaking around here like a vampire-bat, I wouldn't have been so shaken!"
The smirk became a sneer. "And some would say that you should be prepared for any eventuality – especially seeing as you're a member of the wondrous 'Golden Trio'."
Hermione closed her eyes and sighed, she turned away and carefully began to set the books back on their respective shelves. It was clear she wasn't going to get anything done tonight. "I don't want to fight," she said quietly, her back now turned to him. "Why don't you just give me a detention for being out after hours, send me back to the dormitory and pretend that none of this happened?"
"None of this, Miss Granger?" Snape's voice now sounded sharp and strangely brittle.
"Well, yes." Hermione turned back to him, and frowned at the face that was now deeply enshrouded in shadow. How does he even do that? "I'm too tired for an argument to turn out any other way than badly at the moment... Tell you what, why don't we pick this up tomorrow morning?" She almost winced as she realised how that might have sounded...
Snape's features relaxed slightly and she breathed a silent sigh of relief. "I might be tempted to waive that necessity, if you were to give me your word you that you will not broadcast what my... disposition... was like this afternoon to the rest of the school. That is, unless you have already," he continued in a faintly accusing tone.
"Of course not." Hermione slid the last book into its place with a satisfying thunk, and turned to face Snape... Severus... Snape with a frown. This was beginning to get confusing. Beginning – ha. "I'd like to think you have more faith in me than that, Professor. Now, just to be clear," she turned to him, her hands settled on her hips, "are you going to give me detention?"
"No."
"Take points?"
"No."
"Ridicule me in any way, shape or form?"
"Do not tempt me."
Hermione smiled. "All right, then. I won't. Is there anything you are going to do?"
"Certainly. I believe I was going to offer you an apprenticeship in Potions."
Hermione could not have been more surprised if he had hit her over the head with a library book; it took a supreme effort of will not to sit down abruptly, which was good because she would have ended up on the floor.
Strangely, Snape seemed just as shocked as she.
"An... an apprenticeship... with you?" Hermione repeated slowly. Some small part of her started squealing and jumping up and down in excitement, but she easily quelled it, even if this opportunity was beyond her wildest dreams. Being apprenticed to someone before you'd even left school was an almost solid guarantee of a scholarship to a higher education institute of your choice, especially if it was in the difficult field of Potions. This was brilliant! "Oh, Professor, I'd love to!"
Snape smirked, all earlier confusion dissipating. "I thought you might say that. Come with me; I shall show you what is required of you. Then you can decide upon whether to accept or not."
"Where are we going?" she couldn't help asking as she hurried to keep up with his long stride. "It's past midnight!"
"Your ability for stating the obvious appears to be improving."
Hermione resisted the urge to swat him like she would have done with the boys. "I meant, isn't Dumbledore – or someone – not going to be impressed with you dragging me God knows where in the middle of the night?"
Snape raised an eyebrow at her, even as he steered her down another long corridor Hermione had never seen before. It had a lot of cobwebs. "That would be an excellent point were it not for the fact that most Astronomy lessons often go on until two in the morning. All the Professors are still considered to be 'on duty' until at least that time of night, which, by default, also means that their offices and classrooms are still accessible until that time."
"Well," Hermione said, making a face, "it seems you get a pretty poor deal for teaching here."
Snape gave her a somewhat warmer glance. "Miss Granger, you have no idea. In fact, I'm sure you can now guess what the majority of my conversations with the Headmaster comprise of."
"Complaining about the practical jokes, and the poor working hours, I bet," Hermione said as she ticked them off her fingers. "I suppose the colour of his robes have come up a time or two as well?"
The man smirked. "Indeed. Though that is more Minerva's area than mine."
Hermione smiled slightly as a memory of the brusque fondness the Head of Gryffindor always treated the Headmaster with came to mind. "Do you think they're secretly married and are taking bets on how long it'll take all of us to figure it out?" she asked, mock-innocently.
The Professor almost missed a step and turned to stare at her incredulously. "I cannot believe I am having this conversation with you." He huffed and stalked away again when it became apparent when all Hermione was going to do was smile sweetly at him.
They passed both the Potions classroom and his office on their way and just as Hermione was ready to ask where they were going again, a small, wooden door sprung open at a wave of the Professor's hand.
"My own private laboratory," Snape stated, gesturing her in with a mock-flourish.
"Your what?" Hermione squeaked in surprise as she stepped in... only to stop abruptly and stare. It was difficult to know where to look first.
Hundreds of pots, cauldrons, ladles, ingredients and weird gadgets hung from, adorned and rested on every available surface from floor to ceiling. Everything was labelled; everything was in its rightful place, and everything was absolutely sparkling clean. Silver, gold, green and dun winked at her from all around, and she had to actually shake herself out of the whimsical thought that she'd just stepped into Aladdin's cave, because really, this was Professor Snape's laboratory. And the Professor would most certainly not appreciate being compared to a man who wore baggy trousers and went around muttering to a lamp all day.
Still, she couldn't help gushing a bit. This room was a potion-maker's dream.
"Oh, this is so brilliant, Professor! All the different colours! I didn't know you had a private laboratory, let alone that it was so complete! If this were mine, I wouldn't bother to come out again no matter what anyone said – I'd probably just bar the door. I don't know how you can bear to leave this behind in order to teach us every day. And was that wandless magic I saw you do? I mean, the door just opened when you waved at it, so it was, wasn't it? I thought that was really advanced and that only the strongest wizards could accomplish it! But, oh look–"
"Miss Granger," Snape growled, rubbing his temples slightly – he seemed to be doing that a lot lately – "May I remind you that I do actually work here on a regular basis and therefore do not need a detailed description of the contents of my own room?"
Hermione's shoulders drooped. "Oh. Oh, yes, I suppose that would make sense." Pause. "But just look at all the variety you've got here; I swear that ladle's made of basalt! And there's so much–"
Snape let out a snort that seemed strangely caught between a laugh and a growl, and Hermione firmly closed her mouth, feeling guilty. Wasn't her behaviour proof why he shouldn't take her on as an apprentice? She glanced at him with uncertainty, but he merely waved a hand as if to dismiss her outburst.
"Go on. Get the enthusiasm out of your system. Come tomorrow I will expect you to behave competently, but I suppose I could make an exception tonight."
This time Hermione couldn't – quite – suppress her squeal of delight. "Oh, really? Thank you!" She hurried over to the shelves of equipment and began to memorise everything she laid eyes on. "And to think nobody else knows all of this exists," she whispered reverently when she tore her eyes away to glance back. She was just in time to see Snape hide his smile behind a scowl, and her stomach gave the most disconcerting flip.
"I think you may discover the Weasley twins can be added to that list, despite the fact they attempted to explain they had no idea precisely why they were in here. Or, indeed, how they got in, in the first place."
Hermione shook her head in exasperation. Those two boys could get into anything as long as it seemed mysterious enough. "So what does it all do? I'm not sure I've seen even half of these things before."
Snape stepped up beside her and surveyed everything himself. "You would not have. Most of this collection is designed specifically with Potions Masters in mind."
"And you're letting me use this? Are you out of your mind?"
Snape glared a little but there wasn't any real heat to it. The quirking at the corners of his lips gave him away. "My mental state is not up for discussion."
"Oh, yes." Hermione nodded emphatically. "I remember now. We decided you'd already lost it after the Dumbledore bashing incident." Smirking, Hermione turned away from the spluttering Potions Master and wandered along the shelves.
"Miss Granger!" the man finally managed to get out. "May I remind you that the only reason you are in this room at all is by my request?"
Playing along, Hermione tapped her finger mock-thoughtfully against her cheek as she examined a spiralling, silver-hued instrument. "You could... but I could always have the boys figure out your password and sneak in anyway."
Snape was suddenly very close, very angry and very looming. "You wouldn't dare."
Hermione glanced up at his outraged face and chuckled, even as uncertainty made her fingers tighten in her pockets. She couldn't believe the audacity she had around the man these days! "You're right, I wouldn't. But based on the very premise that you've asked me down here suggests that you need help with something." She smiled sweetly and watched Snape twitch with outrage. "And to my mind, that means that unless you're very angry, you won't waste this opportunity by sending me away on a whim."
The glare on the man's face intensified. "You would do well not to test me any further."
Just because he let you wind him up earlier today, doesn't mean he's going to let you do it indefinitely. Hermione sighed in faint disappointment. Maybe Snape hadn't warmed to her as much as she'd thought. Madam Pomfrey was probably imagining things. All right, one last try and then I'll give in. She let her eyes go very wide and innocent. "Oh, but, Professor!" she said in her best 'I'm just a sweet little Gryffindor and you wouldn't want to hurt me, would you?' voice. "Please don't send me away. I was only joking and I really, really want to work with you. Please forgive me." She wondered if the slightly trembling lip was too much... but then decided she might as well go all out.
Snape's eyes widened with shock. "I... do not trouble yourself, Miss Granger," he said, stumbling over the words in his haste to get them out.
Hermione sniffed a little. "Being an apprentice is what I've dreamed about and I'd absolutely hate to think I'd spoiled it with a few hasty words." Even she was impressed with how she had managed to make her eyes water.
Snape fidgeted: shuffling his feet and being careful to look anywhere but at her. "Err, there, there." He patted her awkwardly on the shoulder while examining a spot on the ceiling. "You haven't spoiled it, you are going to be an apprentice, and I'm not going to throw you out, so would you please stop sniffing like that?"
And round two goes to the Gryffindor. "All right!" she exclaimed, smiling broadly, and abruptly snapping back to her previous attitude. "Now, this thing here – I've heard it's used to stabilise potions while they're still in the experimental stages. Dead useful – as Ron would say – don't you think, Professor?" she chirped at him, pointing at the silver object she had been examining before, as if nothing had happened.
Snape stared at her, his mouth hanging open a little, as if he could not quite believe what he was seeing. Slowly, his face began to darken. "Miss Granger," he purred dangerously, interrupting her quiet humming to herself.
"Yes, Professor?"
"Am I to understand that you have just spent the last few minutes deliberately manipulating me into believing you were in a delicate emotional state, while in reality you were nothing of the sort?" That glare looked strong enough to warp metal.
"Do you know...? That sounds exactly right, Professor." Hermione smiled up at him, and tried to understand why her common sense seemed to embark on a package tour around Australia whenever she was around this man.
Cocking her head to one side, she observed his reaction. He really did go quite an interesting colour when he was seething. "There, there," she said as she patted him gently on the shoulder. "I'm sure you'll get used to it eventually. After all, most apprenticeships only last for about five years."
She was three corridors away and already sprinting before he recovered from his shock enough to let out a shout of indignation.
oooOOOooo
After a good ten minutes of searching, Severus found her sitting back in the Library.
"I would have thought that you had enough sense to be well hidden in your Common Room by now," he snarled, giving her Glare Factor Five.
She looked up and smiled – why in Merlin's name was she always smiling around him? – as she closed the heavy book in front of her. "Well, it occurred to me that hiding away and giving you the chance to come up with an appropriate revenge probably wasn't the best idea, especially seeing as I'm going to be working with you from now on."
"Indeed." Severus slid into the seat across from her, feeling decidedly... not angry... though for the life of him he couldn't think why. She had tricked him after all. "And what makes you think you still will be after that little... display?"
Hermione cocked her head to the side in a way that made her really quite... She is NOT in any way adorable, Severus told himself firmly. Not in the least! "Well, so far you've neither given me a detention, nor taken a ridiculous amount of points from Gryffindor." Hermione paused.
Severus didn't fill the silence.
"So... I still have the apprenticeship?" she asked, her face lighting up with hope.
Severus shifted and grumbled under his breath, eventually muttering something which sounded like, "I suppose so, but Merlin knows why," before subsiding into sulking. Only a little though.
Hermione, on the other hand, was positively glowing. "Oh, wonderful! I suppose you'll want me to do things like stock up the Infirmary, take inventory and prepare antidotes for lessons. Oh, and to organise things!"
How does she manage to make 'organising' sound like it is the most thrilling job out of them all? Severus wondered briefly before directing his attention back to the witch tapping idly on the heavy tome in front of her. "I've been reading up on some of the things I'll need to do, but I was interested to know if there was anything I might have missed." She eyed him expectantly, studiously inking her quill and pulling a suspiciously long list towards her. It was somewhat disturbing that she didn't even have to look down once.
Her stared at her, feeling the weight of an incredibly weird day catch up with him. Since when had Hermione Granger – the girl whom he had made burst into tears in her fourth year – been so comfortable in his presence? He shook his head and sighed wearily. Maybe after he went to bed the world would right itself? "Essentially, yes. You will also be brewing counter-potions to brews the younger students will be working on in class. These will need to be accurate, as it is imperative their effects are immediate."
Hermione nodded, hastily scribbling something on the parchment. "Of course, just give me your syllabus for the next two weeks and I'll read up on everything."
Looking at the cheerful, innocent and above all expectant expression of Hermione's face caused Severus to sigh and shake his head. "You irritate me, Miss Granger."
"Why?" A frown appeared, and there looked to be a storm brewing behind those brown eyes. Ah, now he knew what Mr Weasley had meant a few days ago when he had been muttering about 'a pink thundercloud'.
"Because you retain a most Gryffindor tendency to remain un-squelched." Severus scowled as if this were considered a mortal sin. Unfortunately, all it prompted Hermione to do was giggle.
"And people say you don't have a sense of humour," she exclaimed, rolling her eyes and completely ignoring the mortified expression on Severus' face. "Well, I'm for bed. I'll see you tomorrow to finish going over what else is I need know, shall I? Goodnight, then."
"Goodnight," Severus replied blankly, still trying to work out how he'd ended up in this position. He almost didn't see her pause beside his chair.
"Oh, and Professor?"
"Hmm? Yes, Miss Granger?" He raised an eyebrow, trying to prove that he was still the feared Potions Master of the dungeons. Hermione didn't seem to notice; she was smiling again. Only a little, but it was still a dratted smile.
"I am glad you weren't hurt in the accident today." Shifting her many books into a more comfortable position in her arms, she reached down and gave his hand a gentle pat. "Potions just wouldn't be the same without you." And then she walked off, completely unaware of the bombshell she had just dropped on the man sitting at the table.
Severus sat for several minutes, staring at his hand as though he had only just discovered that it was attached to his arm. Then, very slowly, he groaned and let his head drop down loudly upon the Library table as the realisation finally hit him. How, oh how, had he managed to fall so completely for a pink-haired, obnoxious bookworm? Who had a nice smile... and was glad he hadn't been hurt... and liked to spend time with him... and who was looking forward to spending more time with him.
"That is not helping," he snarled at the varnished surface before him. "She's your student for Merlin's sake." His reflection didn't seem to have any more ideas on how to resolve the situation than he did.
Two minutes later, his left arm started to burn.