Disclaimer: You know the drill. Pretty much anything I wish was mine, isn't.
Author's Note: I was a little apprehensive about putting up another chapter since the last one made me really nervous (I wasn't sure if Snape's reappearance was going to seem too out of the blue) and I didn't get a lot of feedback on it. Thanks to Hydraspit and LoireLoa for their comments. I really like this chapter, I was trying to make it longer than it is, but I really felt this was the cut off point for this chapter. I'll swing focus back around to Harry in the next one. I'm still working on figuring out where this story ends…there's so many plot threads going and I don't want to just tie them up in a bow and say, "Okay, done now!" Anyway, I'm totally babbling, but I hope everyone is having a good holiday and that this chapter brings a smile to somebody's face.
Chapter 36: Sowing the Seeds
Hermione, laden with carefully written instructions from Neville, fertilizer, gardening tools, and an assortment of small plants, came into the lycanthrope halfway house, putting on a cheery face. She called out to see who was around and nearly crashed into Remus on the stairs. "How are things moving along?" Remus asked, smiling at her, reaching out to help relieve her of some of the objects.
Hermione could see the dark circles under his eyes, more prominent than the day before. "Neville had a lot of the ingredients on our list in stock. There are more that he's relatively certain he can get without trouble. Others are going to take a bit more work, but he's going to see what he can do. He's going to bring most of the plants in when he closes the shop for lunch; I just brought what I could carry for the time being. He's giving us a lot of the less common ones he had in stock at cost, and a lot of the more usual plants as an outright donation. I'm going to plant myself in front of Penny tomorrow to see about hooking this place up to the network. I mean, I know we still need a fireplace first, but I figure the more I get done without her, so I can show her progress is happening, and the more I make myself a presence in her office on a regular basis, the better off we'll be in getting the resources we need from her. How are things going here?" She looked around, not seeing anyone else.
"Well, the plumbing wizards are still working upstairs. They said they should be mostly done with the upstairs plumbing by the end of the day and they'll come back to finish it and do the downstairs tomorrow. They were quick to remind me that they're just taking care of fixtures and pipes and that they didn't sign on to do the cosmetics—of course, then one whipped out the business cards of three friends of his who are all in that end of the business. John was doing some math I set for him. He just went out to work on the garden for a while with Samuel and Leo. Things really are moving along."
He looks so very tired, she thought. "We are going to get there, Remus. We're going to make it. This will happen. It has to."
He tried to look reassured, knowing she'd do anything and everything she possibly could for the cause. "I know, Hermione." Remus helped her carry the gardening supplies outside where the others were working. Samuel was putting together a fence to border the garden to keep wildlife, gnomes, and anything else that shouldn't be in out. Leo was tilling up the soil, getting it ready for planting. John, standing beside Samuel and handing him things as he went along, was talking animatedly.
"And did you know that there's this big castle? And a funny old man with a beard long enough to tuck in his belt! I saw a picture at Remus's—hi, Hermione!"
Samuel was smiling and nodding. It was good to see the little boy's spirits up.
Hermione smiled at him. "Hi, John, Samuel, Leo." As she started wandering through the garden area, mentally spacing the partitions for different sections, setting down plants at intervals, Remus suddenly remembered about the letter.
"This came for you a couple of hours ago." He brought the letter out of his pocket and handed it over. "I'd forgotten about it when you came in."
Dear Hermione Weasley,
Severus Snape appeared in my office this morning with a response to your query. His answer was, most regrettably, negative. However, circumstances have, at present, delayed him at Hogwarts for the time being. Should you care to voice your request again, in person, he can be found at the hospital wing under the care of Madam Pomfrey. While I realize the trip would be out of your way at a time I am sure is very busy, I have a feeling persistence is usually worth the effort and that that may very well prove to be the case in this instance.
Yours Truly,
Albus Dumbledore
Snape? He'd managed to find Snape? And get him to Hogwarts? She had to go…right now. Before Severus could try to slither out of there. She frowned. She smelled like dirt, and manure, and green things. She ought to shower first, or at least put on robes. Robes might make a better impression on Snape—and whatever she could do to make it listen to reason and help where he could in regards to this was alright with her. She'd go home, change, and be at Hogwarts as soon as she could. She lowered her voice so only Remus could hear. "I've got to go—this could be good news. I don't want to say anymore and get anyone's hopes up if it doesn't work yet, but this might just be it!"
Remus stared. "Damocles Belby answered your letter already?"
She shook her head. "No. But someone else did. I've got to go. I can't guarantee he'll stay in one place long enough for me to get there if I don't go now. I'll send word as soon as I know anything." She looked at the others, "I'll be back as soon as I can!" She Disapperated.
Forty-five minutes later, Hermione Weasley, dressed in clean, semi-dressy, black wizarding robes (but still smelling faintly of Neville's nursery), was walking out of Hogsmeade towards Hogwarts. She was laying out her arguments and counter-arguments for Snape. He was a reasonable man. He would no doubt see that this would be beneficial to a lot of people—that didn't necessarily mean he'd do it, but he'd be able to see that. Maybe that wouldn't be the best tactic.
The brisk air helped her process her thoughts a little better. She'd have to make sure Samuel and Leo and John had warm clothing for the onset of winter and if they didn't she'd have to see to it that they got some. And they'd need to get some sort of tile and paint into the bathrooms so they could be finished. And there was the Floo network connection to take care of. And building a fireplace. And the whole downstairs. And furniture…
She entered the hospital wing with a large list of things she still wanted to accomplish and no clear idea exactly what she wanted to say to Snape. Well, it would come to her when she was in front of him she supposed.
"Madam Pomfrey?" She looked around for the mediwitch and didn't see her anywhere. "Madam Pomfrey?"
Snape opened his eyes and quickly shut them again. He'd shut them after Poppy had left his bedside—the room was too bloody bright. He knew that voice. Go away, just go away. Maybe if he didn't answer and Poppy couldn't hear her, she'd leave. Fat chance.
Hermione walked down the row of empty beds, striding purposefully, trying to exude a confidence that she was slowly losing grip of. She had to do this. But why was it that certain professors could always manage to make a person feel like a student again? Then again, she did come in to ask him to allow her to be his pupil again.
As she approached the final bed, curtains drawn around it, her pace slowed. She stopped at the foot of the bed, tugging the curtains gently open.
He didn't even both cracking an eye open. "Go away, Granger, I trust you already received my answer. Don't dispute it; just move on."
She straightened herself up to full height. "Actually, if you insist on calling me by my surname, Professor, it's Weasley. But really, I do think after all these years it might be alright to call me by my name."
Severus sigh. Didn't she ever give up? "I am not your professor. You are avoiding the conversation as it ought to go, Weasley. I will not waste my time teaching you to brew a potion that is clearly beyond your skill level. Feel free to ask again and I will say 'no' again, but you are wasting your time and mine."
"Well, you appear to be confined to a sickbed, so you must have time to spare—you can't go anywhere else, so you have to have this conversation with me. I am a very determined woman, Severus, and if you are not willing to spend some time teaching me for just two short months—after which I would leave you alone forever—I will do everything in my power to make life exceedingly difficult for you." She wasn't sure exactly what she could do at this point, but she always seemed to annoy him enough during Hogwarts; surely there must be a way to tap into that power now? "Clearly I've already found you once; I'm more than confident I can do it again, and again. I won't leave you alone."
He gave a dry laugh. "Do you honestly think threats about making life 'exceedingly difficult' for me are supposed to be persuasive? I've lived through hell and back, Weasley. I'm still here. I can't imagine a thing you could do to me that hasn't already been done, and worse. Humiliate me? Cause me physical pain? Psychological pain? Discomfort? I've faced demons you couldn't begin to comprehend, so do not for a single moment underestimate me, Weasley. Whatever leverage you think you can throw at me…it has as much weight as a quill in the breeze." He opened his eyes, shading them with the hand nearest to the window, looking at her. He sniffed the air experimentally. She'd been working with plants.
She needed something… "What is it you want most?"
"Nothing you can give me. I'm quite content with my life as-is, as soon as arrive home I've no intention of leaving again for quite some time." And anything I might want isn't in your power or anyone else's to give. He partially as though he ought to roll over and face the wall and not speak further to her, but it was never a good idea to turn one's back on an enemy; besides which, if he rolled over on to that side, he'd be lying on the knee Poppy still hadn't mended.
Her nostrils flared and she started towards the head of the bed. "All I'm asking for is two months. Really four would be reasonable—a month for us both to prepare, two months of practice, and a month to see if I've retained the knowledge correctly. However, I'm an excellent student and despite your charming personality, you are a good teacher and an excellent potions master. You're one of the best there is. You have the natural knack for it, the patience for it—a patience you don't have with people certainly, the skill. I'm embarking on an immense project here to help others, and I am enough of an adult to say that I cannot do this on my own. I need help and I'm willing to admit it." Scowling at him, she gave a mock curtsey. "You win; you are still superior to me in potion-making. You probably always will be. But at least give me the opportunity to learn from the best."
He whispered, "And what possible benefit might I have from this? Losing months of researching time to simply help you on a pet project of which I want no part?"
"Ask. We're both reasonable individuals. If there's something you want that I can give you, name it."
She couldn't give him the things he desired most. She couldn't give him his youth back—without the abuse and humiliation. She couldn't give him his adult life back—to live freely without serving any masters, let alone two of them. She couldn't give him Lily Evans. She couldn't give him any of the things that mattered. So why should he give her a damn thing? Why should he care one whit about what she wanted or needed from him? Everyone always wanted something from him, whatever they could get. Even now, Dumbledore still itched to have him back and chained to the school for the rest of his life as the potions master. "There is one thing."
She tried not to get too excited, but she could feel it building inside her. "Which is?"
He wondered vaguely if he was shooting himself in the foot by even suggesting this. "I would like you to become my apprentice."
She blinked, asking slowly, "What are your terms?"
Severus met her gaze quite evenly, somewhat disgusted at himself for making the offer, but hopeful that perhaps, when this ordeal was over, he might get some peace. "I want Albus Dumbledore to relinquish the idea that I will ever deign to teach at Hogwarts again. You will learn whatever I say you need to learn—not just the Wolfsbane potion. Your studies will include some of the most difficult potions known. I intend to give Albus no reason to ever need or desire my services again. At the end of your apprenticeship I expect you to become the Potions master of Hogwarts if the position needs filling. You will arrive by 8 o'clock sharp and stay until 5 o'clock at night. In the event that ingredients need to be gathered in the evening hours you may be called upon to assist in order to further your learning experience. I expect you to report six days a week unless otherwise indicated. So as not to take away from my own valuable research time, you will assist me in my research. At this point I am unsure of how long this apprenticeship will last; it will depend on how quickly you are able to learn. If I am unsatisfied with your work I have the right to terminate the apprenticeship."
"Five days a week, and I want the Wolfsbane potion for the next full moon." She couldn't believe she'd just said that. She was giving him cheek, when he was offering a major opportunity, assuming they didn't kill one another in the process. Murder certainly was always a possibility.
His eyes narrowed. "Fetch parchment and a quill and we'll settle the terms in writing."
Harry let himself collapse on Jo's bed. She was sitting at her desk, working on editing an article about the werewolf house's progress, hoping to garner support for the project. He sighed. "That was a long day."
"Well, you survived, just have to do it…how many more times?"
He groaned. It was going to take some getting used to; he was used to a lot of peace and quiet up in the attic and now it was a schoolroom.
"Where did you want to go to lunch tomorrow?"
He pushed his hair out of his face. "Forgot tomorrow was Tuesday. You pick a place."
She gave a melodramatic sigh. "You always want me to do all the work. I was talking to Remus earlier. He said Hermione dashed out early and never came back. That's not like her, is it?"
"Not generally, but she probably had a good reason. Maybe she went to go terrorize your sister." His eyes half closed, watching her at her desk as she tucked her hair behind her ear with a frown.
"What's a better word for 'persistent'? It doesn't fit."
"How about 'ongoing'?"
"Not quite."
"Continued?"
"No…still not it."
He sat up, irritated. "Give me the sentence then."
"If the lycanthrope halfway home is to be truly successful, blank efforts need to be made by the Ministry to ensure its success."
"Sustained?"
She chuckled, scribbling it in and reading it again. "Perfect. Between the two of us we can manage one article."
He snorted, tossing a pillow at her head. "That's pathetic, Miss Reporter."
Jo wrinkled her nose. "That is kind of pathetic. But no need to point that out to me. I wanted a decent draft to show Hermione tomorrow so she can let me know if there's any new information I ought to add." She glanced at the window and said exactly what he was thinking. "Tomorrow's the full moon."
He nodded, silent. There didn't seem to be anything that needed saying. The words just hung there in the air, as if they were an approaching storm.
Jo pushed her chair away from the desk, coming over to sit on the bed beside him, head on his shoulder, mouth closed. After a moment, he put his arm around her, squeezing her shoulder.
"Every month, they go through this."
"I can't imagine it gets easier, no matter how many times they go through it." After that, the silence lasted until Mrs. Weasley called them down for dinner. As they walked down the stairs, Harry was surprised to find himself realizing that the silence wasn't awkward.
Hermione glanced down at the contract in her hand. It had been signed by Snape, as well as Dumbledore. The only signature missing was hers. All agreed upon points of the apprenticeship were clearly enumerated. She continued to pace. Ron was going to be home soon. This was going to be a big adjustment. She was going to be up early everyday and gone all day. Eight to four, five days a week, with the possibility of work on Saturdays and evenings. It was going to cut significantly into the time she could spend on the lycanthrope home, but in the long and short run it was really better for everyone concerned. She could still plan and still do what she could during the hours she wasn't working for Snape. She would not be getting paid; he said she was getting a free education. She would still have time to do the books for Fred and George. He would be providing all necessary ingredients for the potions and lunch. Her pacing quickened. She really wouldn't be kept out of the house hours that Ron was home, so that didn't worry her—he had his Auror training all day. What worried her more than her immediate absence from the lycanthrope home was the idea of becoming the Hogwarts potion master. She and Ron had long-term goals that she wasn't sure fit in there. How was this going to work?
She hardly heard the pop of imploding air indicating her husband's arrival over the sound of her own pacing. He crept up behind her and wrapped his arms around her, squeezing tight. "I'm home," he whispered.
She leaned back against him. They were going to make it work.