Hello everyone! I'm still here. The story hasn't been abandoned, honest. Does life always get in the way this much? Make a cuppa, find a snuggly spot and spend some time in HP land. My heartfelt thank you, as always.
Classes dragged horribly on Monday, despite Hermione's best efforts to remain actively engaged. Even solving a particularly problematic equation in Arithmancy failed to take her mind off the evening ahead. She worried about her ability to brew. She was thrilled at the idea of both being near him and the opportunity to watch a skilled potions master at work.
"Are you okay, Hermione? You have barely touched your food and you look bloody horrid."
"Gee thanks, Gin. I'm fine."
"You've been acting strange all year, don't think I haven't noticed. I've been courteous enough to leave you alone up until now, but my curiosity really can't take much more. Besides, as your best friend, it's my duty to harass you about these things. So, come on then"
Noticing those around her tuning into the conversation and desperate to change subjects, Hermione conceded.
"Gods. Later, Ginny? Please."
With a smile that only Ginevra Weasley could pull off, her red headed menace of a best friend turned away and began chattering to Neville about upcoming quidditch.
Hermione waited until 7.30pm to head towards the potion's classroom. She deemed this an acceptable length of time after dinner. Still early, but late enough so as not to appear over eager. She had applied makeup, removed makeup, reapplied makeup and changed hairstyle enough in the past hour that eventually she stood in front of the mirror and gave herself a stern talking to. Hermione Jean Granger. You are about to go and brew potions, you stupid git. Are your sleeves covering your arms to prevent splashes? Yes. Is your hair tied back from your face? Do you have close toed shoes in the event of your clumsiness? Yes. Then you are ready to attend a brewing session with your Professor. This internal monologue didn't stop her slicking on a final brush of clear lipgloss before hurrying from the room.
Severus had eaten swiftly, knowing his stomach would only hold out so long. To him, brewing alongside someone was almost as personal and intimate as sleeping with them. He could count the number of times he had brewed with another on one hand, despite being highly skilled. Of course, Ms Granger would have no idea this and so he would try his best to maintain a casual appearance. Before leaving his quarters, he had dabbed a little cologne on, then laughed to himself about it cynically. With one last sip of liquid courage, the man vanished his glass and waited.
The Professor was waiting at his desk when Hermione entered. Her eyes widened at the sight of bottles and jars lined up on the front table. She recognised the purple glow of the lunar moss and flushed at the memory of collecting it. How many times had he seen her weak and crying? More still, how many times had he been the cause of her tears? At least he wasn't privy to all of those. Turning her attention back to the table, she realised the vast number of jars contained things she hadn't seen. He must have collected them during their disagreement. As if reading her mind, Professor Snape spoke.
"Some are freshly collected, but others have been in my possession for many years. This idea is a long time in the makings."
Hermione nodded absently, letting his silky voice soothe her as she roamed along peering into each container. Finally stopping before one, she wrinkled her nose and asked
"What in all the seven hell's is this?"
Severus, still unused to her occasional foul mouth, quickly replaced his grin with a raised brow.
"It is a fermented version of the bacteria we collected; I want to see whether it will produce a stronger temperature resistance than preserved samples. The brewing process will be longer and more complex than dreamless sleep, as the goal is to keep the drinker conscious. This will not be an easy feat seeing as the principle idea of the dreamless sleep potion is that the drinker falls asleep. So begins a period of trial and error, Ms Granger. "
Spurred on by his own enthusiasm, feeling doubly elated and hopeful, Hermione began the tedious process of cutting the first ingredients as Severus continued scribbling away in his old, cracked notebook. The pair mostly worked in silence, beside the odd question from student to teacher. She would ask, he would answer and often, she would scribble down a quick note in her little book, leather bound and fresh. On the last trip to Hogsmeade, Hermione had purchased some new supplies in preparation for their brewing sessions together which included the notebook and a shimmering navy quill.
The atmosphere in the classroom was strangely cosy, the distant sound of rain hitting the castle walls and the soft light of the wall sconces giving a gentle warmth. It was different in the light of day, with students chattering and Seamus blowing up his cauldron. There was always an air of tension to the room and in its absence, Hermione felt at home. A gentle lump began to creep into her throat, as the witch realised it had been a long time since she felt truly as if she belonged anywhere.
After the loss of her parents Hermione had left her parent's house and the muggle world, both bearing scars of the war. While Hogwarts was welcoming, she had never quite felt worthy of the magic arising from the sturdy stone brick and the people within. She knew the divide between muggleborn and purebloods was slowly dissolving, but old ways linger and the word carved into her flesh served as a reminder.
As evening crept steadily into night, the two worked diligently. Ingredients had been prepped and placed carefully into jars, notes had been rewritten orderly and a plan set in place. When midnight came around, Severus reluctantly called an end to the toiling. He couldn't remember the last time he had felt so relaxed, sharing his work with a likeminded witch. Their energies seemed to mingle and flow smoothly, which surprised him. He didn't think he had brewed alongside someone for this long without so much as a hint of irritation. After much insistence on his part that she not wander the corridors alone so late, they stood before her heavy oak door.
"Thank you for your help, Ms Granger. I have had a very… enjoyable evening"
Unable to hide her flush, Hermione looked at her shoes and cringed inwardly
"Thank you for allowing me to be a part of this Sir. I loved it. It feels like home. I mean, you know. It's nice to be doing something I'm good at and all"
With a final embarrassed smile, she slipped through her door to face the usual demons.
