Fred's recovery took less time than anticipated thanks to Poppy Pomfrey's stellar care and not-infrequent doses of Severus' improved throat coat potion. By the end of a week, Fred's esophagus had been restored to its former glory (braying laughter and all) and the school matron was thoroughly ready to have the prankster out of her ward, thank you very much.
Severus contemplated the events of the past week with some disdain. The conception and execution of the would-be-murder's plan had been exceedingly sloppy to say the least. Mistimed transfiguration spells, the choice of poison as a deterrent — despite the presence of a Potions master, and the failure to disarm one's quarry. Sloppy indeed, though he made a mental note to begin working on some wandless defensive spells with Hermione in the next week.
It was as though the stalker had been trying to send a message, not actually succeed in their supposed goal.
Curious.
Severus Snape did not like puzzles. He particularly did not like puzzles that involved placing his apprentice at risk and when her attacker had no compunction harming others to get to her. And so he found himself plotting once more — with the headmaster's unspoken approval, of course.
The reintroduction of the apprentice program provided the perfect excuse to trot both Hermione and Neville out into public view. The advantage there was two-fold: they would be able to demonstrate the effectiveness of the program to the always-doubting public, but it would also place Hermione and Neville on display, but in a tightly controlled environment. One in which they could maneuver the pieces, and in which they could lay a trap for the would-be stalker and, hopefully, retire to their post-war lives without the fanfare of yet another bloody "adventure" to their names.
✿HG/SS✿
"What do you mean you're breaking up with me? We've barely had a handful of dates, 'Mione."
"I know Fred, I just —"
He slapped his hand on the table, making the fussy teapot rattle, its long-cold contents sloshing about. "This is about that stalker bloke. You're running scared! Some bloody Gryffindor you are."
"Fred, I don't want to —" She'd lowered her voice a bit, wary of the looks they were getting from the other patrons of Madame Puddifoot's. Particularly wary of one very dark presence in the far corner of the room.
"What? You don't think I can protect myself adequately? Not serious enough to fight off some half-crazed aresehole with a crush?"
"You nearly —"
"Do you want to be with me or not?" Finally, Fred paused in his tirade.
Hermione blinked before whispering, "I don't know."
"You don't know," he repeated blankly.
"We've barely been seeing one another a few weeks, Fred. I'm always here and you're always at the shop and our dates are wonderful fun — no, they are," she said, placing her hand on Fred's arm when he would have turned away. "But I don't feel like we do anything but have fun. Poisoning aside, I mean. And that's not to say that there isn't much more underneath for both of us, but with all that's going on…" she trailed off.
"Your half-arsed stalker."
"Yes. My half-arsed stalker. Don't you feel that it's safer to move you out of his line of sight?"
Fred huffed and leaned back in his chair, glowering at the whole of the room. "Are you dumping me because of your stalker or because you think I'm shallow?"
"What?" she squeaked. "No, I —"
"You just said you didn't know if there was anything beneath the fun, Hermione," he said, his tone dark. "I'm not...what, intellectual enough for you? Because I'll have you know —"
"That's not what I meant!" she interrupted, frustration ringing in her voice. "Or maybe I did. Oh, I don't know Fred. Someone tried to kill you! Why won't you run for the hills like any other sane person would?"
Fred quirked a half smile and leaned forward, taking her hand in his. "Maybe because I'm crazy about you. Look, I'm not scared of your stalkery bloke. I think we both know to be a bit more cautious with his likes running about."
"But —"
"No no, let me finish. You said yourself we've only had a handful of dates. You've been my little brother's best friend for most of our lives, and half that time we've been fighting megalomanics or you've been getting punched in the eye by one of our telescopes…" he waggled his eyebrows "which maybe we could try again with a different telescope sometime." He bowled on before she could slap at him. "Maybe, just maybe, get to know me as something more than half of the twins or Ron's older, more handsome brother before you write me off as a nothing but a shallow jokester, hm?"
Hermione sighed, already feeling her resolve crumbling. "Fred, I don't think you're shallow. I know you're clever — hell, some of the things you and George invent are downright genius. And you're wonderfully loyal — shut up — handsome. I just don't want you to get hurt because of me. I couldn't take the guilt."
"Then stop slinging the emotional hexes, yeah?" He cast a glance toward the corner of the room, where Snape was observing them with a distinct look of distaste on his mouth. "Besides, you've got your grumpy babysitter following you every time you leave the castle. Who would want to attack us with him around?"
"You honestly want to date someone who has to take a professor with her each time she leaves the castle?" she asked incredulously.
"Well, I'll admit that Snape doesn't make me feel particularly amorous, but we can always have Hogwarts-dates. It'll be just like seventh year," he finished with a waggle of his eyebrows.
She giggled. "You didn't finish your seventh year."
"No, but I sure did have fun before leaving in a literal blaze of glory, didn't I? Besides, it'll be the hols soon and you'll be home with us. Don't tell me that Dumbledore doesn't think Mum is up to keeping you safe."
"If he didn't, I doubt he'd say so in front of your mother."
"Exactly. So can all this nonsense about dumping me to keep me safe, right? If you're going to dump me, you'd better have a damn good reason."
She sighed again. "Fine. Look, Severus' face is getting darker by the minute and I have at least three cauldrons of Pepper Up Plus to finish before classes resume tomorrow. Why don't we plan for a Hogwarts date next weekend, hm?"
"Good, then." He tossed a few coins on the table for their tea, then stood offering her his hand.
Snape was next to them in mere moments. "Please tell me that this interlude is at an end and that we might return to the castle? I can think of many better things to do with my time."
Hermione smiled up at the taciturn man in an attempt to sidestep his annoyance. "Thank you for waiting, Severus. I'm ready to go back now."
He merely grunted in response and snapped his fingers at Neville, who'd been very asidiously not drinking tea in his own corner with Ron.
"Off we go then. What a bouncy little group we are!" Fred said, offering his arm to Hermione, then to Snape. "Wonder what's crawled down his collar?" he whispered with mock severity as the Potions master swept from the teashop in a flurry of enraged robes. If robes could be enraged.
✿HG/SS✿
This was not how he'd intended to spend his afternoon. Ensuring Granger's safety was one thing, but having to watch her bill and coo with that idiot of a boy in the most ridiculous teashop in Britain was quite another.
He ground his teeth together, sending another sneer at the proprietor as she looked to be nearing his table with — yet another — offer of dry crumpets. How the place stayed in business with cakes that tasted like doxy droppings he would never know.
His eyes narrowed as he saw the Weasley boy slap the table in front of him, making the other patrons in the shop jump at the noise. It was a bit early in the relationship for a proper argument, wasn't it? Not that Weasleys were known for their even temper, aside from Arthur. He sighed and hoped against hope that this might signal the end of their involvement and, thus, the number of hours he had to spend playing bodyguard on their insipid dates.
This was certainly not what he'd intended when he'd had the idea of parading Hermione and Longbottom out in public.
Not that Longbottom was having any issues there. He and his redheaded paramour had simply snagged a dark booth and proceeded to snog the living daylights out of one another, entirely ignoring their tea and musty biscuits. Probably for the best. The sounds they were making were enough to put anyone off food for life.
He flicked a glance down. They were also decidedly unsubtle in their attentions to one another.
His jaw clenched again as he saw Hermione reach out and place her hand on her date's arm. Crisis averted, then, which meant he'd be supervising more ridiculous trips to this blasted shop in the future. Why couldn't his apprentice date that damned Bulgarian? At least then he'd be out of the country part of the time and inaccessible. He rolled his eyes, not bothering to hide his irritation.
Nearly twenty years a spy, now this. Can't a bloke catch a break?
✿HG/SS✿
Hermione finished drying her stirring rod and replaced it in its box, then glanced at the final cauldron as it boiled down into its more condensed syrup form. Her experiment on a better cough mixture was going well and looked like it might be useful for dry seasonal coughs. The extra hellbore seemed to have been a good choice. The sound of the door closing caught her attention and she glanced over her shoulder to see Severus enter from his office.
"Good evening, Severus," she said with a smile.
He said nothing as he approached and looked into her cauldron. "Hellbore?" he queried.
She nodded. "And a sprig of wintermint. For dry coughs instead of wet."
"A good choice. Two and two thirds minutes more, I'd wager. We can test it on Filch — he's been hacking for weeks."
"Where do you think I got the idea?" she responded with a smirk, turning her attention back to her cauldron before waving her hand at a piece of parchment on the counter. "I've finished with the apothecary list as well."
"Already?"
She smiled when she heard the faint tone of surprise in his voice.
"Yes, well. I couldn't sleep last night. We'll be ahead of schedule for next week, at least."
He grunted. "So it would seem. Just as well — the headmaster has requested to see you."
She glanced down at her syrup again, then flicked her wand at a ladle to dispense it into single and ten-dose bottles. "We'll let that cool before corking. Ready when you are, sir."
They moved through the halls silently and as a unit, the weight of his glares pressing students against the walls as they strode past. Hermione had marveled more than once at her master's ability to quell the masses with a look. Minerva could squint with the best of them, but only Severus seemed to be able to communicate menace, disapproval, and outrage without saying a single word.
It was talent that she hoped to one day possess herself.
She was grateful that she was rarely the subject of such ire now that she was an apprentice and assistant brewer.
The gargoyle stepped aside promptly when they arrived at the Headmaster's office, and they were welcomed to a settee by the fire and a tray of tea and, rather inexplicably, Jaffa cakes. Hermione shot a questioning glance at the dour man beside her.
"Albus has a strange fascination with Tesco."
Hermione nodded, utterly perplexed.
"You look confused, my dear," Albus said with a twinkle.
"I'm just having a hard time imagining you in Muggle clothing, sir."
The twinkle intensified. "Muggle clothing?"
"Well — you don't go in robes, do you?"
"Whyever wouldn't I?"
Hermione drew up short at that, saved only by Severus' sardonic response. "The Ullapool locals think he's some sort of modern-day druid. One with a love of Fruit and Nut bars, Jaffa cakes, lemon curd, and the Pick n' Mix aisle."
Hermione supposed that it was a good thing Wizards couldn't develop diabetes. The Headmaster would likely fall into a slough of despond from which he could not be raised.
"Erm...Severus said you wanted to talk with me, sir?" Hermione ventured, stirring her tea and stealing one of the little cakes. She bit in and closed her eyes briefly, flooded by memories of the childhood favorite.
"Of course, but we are still waiting for ah —" a knock sounded. "Come in, come in, seat yourselves." Dumbledoor waved the door open and gestured Neville and Pomona to the other settee. Hermione grinned as her friend quickly snaffled two of the cakes as his mentor poured.
"Now that we're settled, yes I did want to speak to you, Hermione, and you Neville. How are your apprenticeships proceeding?"
Neville grinned fit to burst, shooting a quick look at his mentor. "Brilliant, sir. Um, Albus. I though I'd read widely before I started this summer, but Pomona has really opened my eyes to just how much information there is that I'd never dreamed of. And those Amazonian plants have properties I'd never heard of. It's amazing!"
The Headmaster nodded and smiled at Neville's enthusiasm. "Wonderful, wonderful, though of course I'd expect nothing else. And Hermione?"
"It's a great deal of work," she started, shooting a sidelong look at her own mentor, "but it's both worthwhile and fulfilling. I'm very happy with my progress so far, though Severus may beg to differ," she said with mild mockery.
"Not at this time, Apprentice."
"Well you've certainly pleased Poppy," Albus commented. "She said the school stores have never been so well-stocked."
"It does help that we're no longer fighting a war, I think," Hermione ventured.
"And that I am no longer spending every waking hour brewing a literal moat," Severus grumbled.
"Indeed, my dears, indeed. Well!" he clapped his hands together excitedly, "I'm certainly glad to hear of and to see your progress. But that's not why I called you here tonight."
"No?" Neville asked.
"No indeed. I've decided that Hogwarts is to play host to a charity auction and gala to benefit the Widows and Orphans Fund. I'm hoping that the two of you will play a rather large central role."
Hermione sat up, a little perturbed by the light in Albus' eyes. "And what role would that be, exactly?"
Albus stirred a fifth cube of sugar into his tea. "Of course, I should have clarified. I'd rather hoped the two of you would agree to be our top prizes."