Disclaimers: I do not own anything from the books of Harry Potter and I'm certainly not making any money from this story. Everything you might recognise belongs to J K Rowling, her editor and Warner Bros. (Though as far as I know, the plot, and some minor characters, are mine.)
Summary: One usually says that "bright minds think the same", but do they listen to their hearts – especially when the minds are as stubborn as those of Severus Snape and Hermione Granger?
Author's notes: Another chapter, aren't you surprised? I want to thank everyone who's reviewed and ask your forgiveness for not answering them. I'll try to do better, I'm sorry.
The only other thing I want to do is to issue a warning. I am truly terrible at writing 'sloppily' spoken language, but I've tried and I've done my best. I hope you'll be able to forgive me. You have been warned (you'll see what I mean). I'll hope you'll enjoy the chapter.
Bright Minds Think the Same
Chapter Twenty nine – Christmas Shopping
"Hurry up, Hermione! The carriages are gonna leave without us."
"I'm coming, Ron. And don't blame me. If you hadn't taken that extra serving at breakfast there hadn't been any need for us to rush." Hermione snapped as the trio all but run through the hallways. Reaching the great doors that stood open, awaiting the students that were to leave for London in a few minutes, they sped up, flinging themselves onto the closest carrige.
"We made it!" Ron exclaimed as the door closed behind them.
"Cho…" Harry said somewhat uncomfortably as he noticed the three girls that had already been seated inside. They might still be friends, but Christmas came with some awkward memories for the both of them.
"Hi, Harry." the girl said, shaking her head so that her black hair hid her pink cheeks.
"Hi, Cho." Hermione greeted, nodding towards the other two Ravenclaw girls. The rest of the trip was spent in a somewhat uncomfortable silence and as soon as they reached the station in Hogsmead the two groups took care to enter different carts.
"Ah, Granger, having visited our dear Potions professor, have we?" Draco drawled to the laughter of his friends as Hermione closed the door to Severus's compartment behind her. "I guess we now know how a muggleborn got the position of Head girl." The comment was followed by more laughter from his audience.
"Not that it is any of your business, Malfoy, but I was reporting a commotion in one of the compartments." 'Oh, Merlin!' It felt like she was watching a play, and a very bad one at that, unfold before her. This couldn't be happening. Of all the people to expose them. God, she hoped that he was just trying to be funny...
"Is that what they call it now days?" the blonde boy continued, making a crude motion with his hips, met by catcalls and more laughter.
"Charming display, Mr Malfoy." the professor in question suddenly drawled from the doorway. "And here I was, believing that the Malfoys gave their children a more refined upbringing than that. You do know that you not only have managed to insult Hogwarts' Head girl, but also your own Head of House, both of whom are fully entitled to put you in detention, prefect or not? Now off with you, before I change my mind and deduct house points."
"Yes, Sir." the now more subdued group mumbled.
"And, Mr Malfoy, do not count on me being this generous should this ever happen again, do we understand each other?
"Perfectly, Sir." he answered his Head of House sullenly, before turning to leave.
"And why are you standing there gaping like a fish, Miss Granger? Go join your dunderheaded friends. You know I don't want to spend any more time with you than I'm forced to."
'Please, you are intelligent, cara, understand why I'm doing this.' he urged her inwardly.
"Of course, Professor." she answered, her voice hurt. Though just as she was about to disappear down the gangway she turned around and smiled at him.
About two hours later the scarlet train stopped at King's Cross station and the students filled out on the platform.
"Each house in a line!" Snape ordered irritably. When he had been obeyed, he continued. "There will be no misbehaviour during this trip and if anyone as much as think about pointing their wand at another person, the NEWTs will be the least of their concerns." He paused, letting his words sink in, before looking at the students that stood first in each row. "The Head boy and girl as well as the prefects answer directly to me and I will hold you personally responsible should anything happen. Is this clear?"
At the mumble 'yes, Sirs' that could be heard, Severus continued. "Now, as the Headmaster has seen it fit to have us walk to the Leaky Cauldron, I will have to make us less conspicuous. – Mr Smith, Miss Chang, Miss Granger. Judging from Minerva's constant talking about you; you should be tolerable at Transfiguration. One row each." Walking by each student, waving their wands, the seventh-years soon looked like any Muggle school class on their way to one of London's museums. Finally, Severus turned his black cloak into the same wool ulster he had worn last time he had been to London.
"Slytherin and Ravenclaw, Gryffindor and Hufflepuff form two lines and hold them. And there will be no talk of magic until the last person is inside the Leaky Cauldron and the door closed." And with those words he set of through the barrier, the students following behind him, and out into the commotion on the station where none of the Muggles seemed to notice that the black clad teacher and his class had just appeared from the wall.
Once inside the pub, the students' Muggle uniforms were turned back into the robes they had worn when they had left Hogwarts and Snape gave his final instructions, dismissing them with a wave of his hand.
"Let's buy the gifts for our families together and then split up after lunch" Hermione suggested, a cold shiver suddenly creeping down her back.
The boys heartily agreed with her, but she couldn't concentrate as she was being dragged down the street.
Her family, her parents… They would eventually have to know. Oh, God… What should she do? What could she possibly say to…? They would never understand. They would never accept it. Even if Severus technically wasn't her teacher anymore that was how they would see it. That was how everyone would see it. And even if someone by some kind of miracle accepted that, they would still only see what had been. And he was the most hated teacher at Hogwarts and no one would be able to look away from that. And how would she ever be able to convince her parents that Severus hadn't taken advantage of her or some other kind of silly idea that they might get? That she had been the one to make the decision. An ancient magical contract would most likely not impress them very much.
Well, as much as she wanted everyone's approval she would have to try to look away from that. If they loved her they would, well at least they probably would, wouldn't they, eventually accept it. Probably, hopefully... Oh, why did everything have to be so complicated?
Taking a deep breath, she tried to think about something else. They had hardly had time to be together since she had accepted the necklace. There was no need to tell anyone quite yet. And besides, she was in London with her friends. She should enjoy that, at least for their sake. Taking another deep breath, she looked up and smiled at the boys, nodding as they asked if they should go visit Fred and George at their shop.
"Severus, how good to see you. But where is your charming lady friend?" Mr Asinius greeted the younger man as he entered the apothecary. "Don't glare at me; it's impolite."
The Potions master sighed at the older man's reprimand. "Doing her Christmas shopping with her friends, I believe. Dumbledore somehow let himself be convinced to let the seventh-years go to Diagon Alley, the old fool."
"Yes, yes..." the older man shook his head amusedly, "So, what can I do for you today? I hardly think that your supplies are down already."
"I wanted to purchase an inro."
"An inro? Indeed," his eyes twinkled, "for your lady, I presume?"
"Don't play fool with me. You are very well aware that I tutor her in Potions and you know even better that as her instructor it is tradition that I give her her first one."
"Well then, let me see what I have got." He produced an old bronze key, hanging from a chain around his neck, from beneath his robes and proceeded to open the row of glass doors behind the counter. Taking out several large trays, Asinius placed them on the counter. "I think we'll probably need something different than the traditional lacquered ones, but we will of course have a look at those as well."
"Ah, here's one – perhaps a bit on the large side, but rather fitting, wouldn't you say?" He took one of them in the palm of his hand showing it to Severus. It was about six times three inches and decorated with a resting lion carved into the wood. "The inro itself is made of rosewood, but the highlights are gold." At the younger man's disdainful look, he chuckled. "No? Well, I hadn't really expected you to choose that one."
"What about this one then? Very suitable for a young woman." He pointed at a small inro, this one decorated with a painted branch with cherry blossoms."
"By Merlin, no." Severus exclaimed as he saw the pink flowers. "Perhaps if Pansy Parkinson had had enough of a brain to study potions."
They looked at a large number of others, but Severus kept turning each and every one down for various reasons. Finally, Asinius stopped, halfway to picking up yet another one.
"Hm, perhaps… I might just have the perfect one." He turned around, opening a drawer. "I think this might be exactly what you are looking for." And from a small box he produced an inro, four times two inches and made from reddish wood. It was decorated with an otter playing under the surface; a sandy sea bed covered the bottom of the inro and a shoal was carved in the background. The animal itself was so minutely carved that it was possible to see each hair. Black onyxes glittered as its eyes, making it look almost alive, and the craftsman who had made it had managed to intertwine spidery thin threads of silver with the wood, making it appear as if the otter was glittering in the sunbeams that broke the surface.
"And for the netsuke..." Looking through some other trays, all bearing a variety of the small statues that were used as stoppers when the inro was fastened to the belt, he finally took one made from the same reddish wood and shaped like a water lily.
"Forgive an old man's sentimentality." he said, pointing at the wooden objects. "They are both made from cherry tree, symbolising good knowledge and the water lily symbolises..."
"Purity of heart" Severus finished for him. "As you know, I as well am raised in the traditional manner." Suddenly the younger man smiled slightly. "I do believe that you are right, it is the ideal one, thank you." He then continued in a lower tone, more to himself than to the other man. "But how you could know about the otter, I have no idea."
"I assume you'll fill it yourself." Fastening the two objects together, he placed them in the box.
"Yes… There is no need for a bag. I'll take it in my pocket."
"Very well. Give my regards to Miss Granger, if you please. Oh, and Severus, since this is a gift of tradition you should probably get her something else as well."
Frowning slightly as he bid the older man a good day, Severus left the shop, the parcel safely in the inner pocket of his cloak, to once again join the students in Diagon Alley.
At lunch the students as instructed were once again assembled at the Leaky Cauldron, seated in groups at different tables.
After placing the order for the group, Severus resumed his seat at a table with some of his Slytherins. Their conversation was far from inspiring, he really couldn't care less about their not so subtle attempts at showing off their family money by comparing their purchases, but at the present this was the best option. He doubted that it would have gone over well with any of the students had he chosen another seating arrangement and the last thing he needed was someone starting to ask questions, or, Merlin forbid, start to actually think. Hence he was condemned to watch the Slytherins trying to master the skills of their house. He couldn't help but wonder if he had ever been that young. Well, he supposed he should be thankful that they had managed to keep some of their naivety despite being through war.
Tuning out from the conversation around him, he let his eyes sweep around the room only to stop at the table where Hermione was seated along with Potter, Weasley and Longbottom. The young woman was smiling politely at the boys, on occasion laughing at one of their silly jokes, but he could see it in her eyes that her heart wasn't really in it. As much as he looked down on himself for doing it, he couldn't help but wonder what was wrong. Her thoughts seemed to keep wandering, but each time she caught herself at it, she recommenced her smile.
Suddenly realising that he was doing the exact same thing as the object of his scrutiny was doing, he wrenched his concentration back to his own table. Young as they might be, it was never a good idea to let ones concentration slip when surrounded by Slytherins.
Having felt like she had visited every shop in Diagon Alley at least twice, Hermione had decided to venture into Muggle London. She just didn't know what to buy for Severus. Well that wasn't quite true. One of the reasons as to why she was currently transfiguring her cloak into a less noticeable coat was that she wanted to give him a copy of A Midsummer Night's Dream. But she needed something more. Whatever did one buy for a man?
She had briefly considered what she had given Harry and Ron over the years, but it didn't feel right and Severus might have refereed a game of Quidditch in their first year, but he really wasn't the type for broom polishing. Hermione couldn't help but wonder what he was going to get for her and a light blush crept up her cheeks.
Suddenly a dingy little shop caught her eye. It appeared to be one of those shops that bought practically everything that people brought in if it was old enough, not quite an antiquity shop, but neither a pawnshop. The window was grey from neglect and a sign, so darkened by age that it was practically impossible to interpret, read Livingstone's. Beyond the dirty window, it was the display that had caught her interest. Not that it was anything spectacular about it; in fact it was rather dreadful with a faded piece of cloth that probably had been blue at one time on which a display of old books, darkened jewellery, antique vases and trays and a rusty sword were placed without a semblance of order.
Perhaps she could find something in there. Perhaps an old leather-bound book, something like Linneaus's Philosophia Botanica, or some other title that might interest a potions master. Not that it was very creative, but it was the best idea she had been able to come up with.
The door creaked as she pushed it open and a bell sounded from somewhere inside the shop. The air that met her was balmy and smelled strongly of dust and old attics. The light was dim, but as her eyes grew costumed to the poor lighting, Hermione looked around the room. On an old shelf a stuffed hawk was perched between some vases and several pieces of jewellery were on display on a Rococo chest of drawers. One of the walls was covered by shelves overloaded with books, and old chairs, tables, rolled up carpets and all kinds of other things, all in various degree of decay, were spread around the room.
Walking over to the bookshelves, the young woman suddenly noticed something that seemed out of place. On a small side table something seemed to glow. Picking it up, she found herself looking at it as if transfixed. The object actually did glow and not only that. It appeared to be a very roughly cut, almost crystal like, black stone, hanging from a thin leather strap that was artfully tied around it so that there had been no need to drill a hole in the stone. But the thing that was so special about it, the thing that made it glow was…
"Admirin' the necklace, darling? Pretty, don't yeh think?" A somewhat shabby man in his mid fifties, dressed in slacks and a brown cardigan, appeared from behind a tapestry that apparently lead to a backroom of some kind.
"You scared me, Sir! But yes, it is very beautiful. I have never seen anything like it. What is it?"
"Have no idea. This strange old man came in 'ere, dressed in some bizarre yellow dress, and wanted te sell it. Clearly senile – told me this ridiculous story abou' the little trinket. Said it was called an ember shard. Yeh see there seems to be a flame burning inside it?"
At Hermione's nod he continued. "Well, he tol' me that when a dragon dies of old age, just before it passes, it gives of one last flame and that that flame stays within the stone it burns. Strangest story anyone's ever told me to try to get a higher price. Complete rubbish, if you ask me. Dragons? Completely ridiculous." the shop owner prattled on, unaware that his customer had become several shades paler at his words. "The ol' buffoon said it was very rare and very expensive, but I'm certain that if yeh look close 'nough, you'll find the Made in China tag somewhere. I don't seem to be able to turn it off though. But I thought I might as well take it as not. He seemed very keen to get rid of it. Said he didn't want his children to get their hands on it when he was gone. Said they were a bunch of… Wha' was it? Blood…? No, somethin' with Death, Death chewers, Death devourers…?"
"Death eaters?" Hermione asked, her voice faint.
"Yes, yes, I do believe yeh're right. Death eaters. Have yeh met 'im too?"
"No. Just a lucky guess." she answered. This couldn't be. Of course she had read about them. But to actually come across one. It was like, like finding a needle when you had to look through all of the haystacks in Britain. An ember shard? Well, it had to be. She had examined it closely while the shop owner had been talking and as far as she could tell it had to be genuine. Holding it in her hand, she could feel the faint warmth it emitted, the warmth that would keep its owner warm when worn close to the body.
"Well, perhaps a young lass in 'er best princess-age woul' find any joy in it. I'll sell it to yeh if yeh want it."
"How, how much do you want for it?"
"Well, let's say 25 pounds. The story might be complete rubbish, but the necklace's pretty enough."
"Not more?!"
"No' a very good negotiator, are yeh?" the man laughed. Looking at her, he continued, "Yeh don' believe in the fairytale, do yeh? I would say yeh're a bit too old for that."
"No, no… Of course I don't. But it's still rather special. I just thought… I probably should be quiet now, shouldn't I?"
"Well, I certainly won't mind if yeh want to pay more. But since yeh're such a pretty little thing I'll still let yeh buy it for 25 quid, if yeh're interested. Saves me the trouble of finding out how to turn it off."
"Thank you, Sir. Yes, I would very much like to purchase it." And a few minutes later, Hermione exited the small shop, a smile on her face.
Author's notes: Where to start? The inros… Well, they are small Japanese wooden boxes that where fastened by the belt and used because the kimonos didn't have pockets and that's all I'll tell you for now. (Though if you want to see a really good picture, look them up on Wikipedia (the English one) and if you want an idea of what the otter looks like look for three otters playing on Google – you'll find a picture of three otters drawn in colour pencil and I'm thinking something along the line of the one at the far right.)
No, I realised that there's one more thing I need to add. You might wonder why British Potions masters give their students Japanese inros. My reasoning for this is that since there are so few wizards in the world they must have a much closer intercultural relationship than the Muggles do and hence they exchange ideas from their respective Muggle cultures among their common Wizarding culture.
The next thing on my list is the ember shard. Well, they are made up by me and my boyfriend, who really helped me brainstorm and who was the one who came up with the name. (I don't know if it's the perfect gift for Snape, but like Hermione, I feel that books and potions flasks have been done one time too many.)
Finally and most importantly, I'm really, truly sorry that Hermione started to think about telling her parents and her friends about Severus in this chapter. She was no at all supposed to do that and I tried to rewrite the passage several times, but she refused to cooperate. I hope you can forgive me.
