"Thank you for coming," Hermione said, holding her notes before her, the paper rustling like a sail snapping in the wind as she clenched it in shaking hands. Severus tried to project strength into her, as though by sheer force of will he could straighten her spine and still her hands, and soothe her worries, and …

By Merlin he had it bad, he realised with a start. Hermione met his eyes just as he was realising he was completely besotted, and he tried to smile. Her tongue was still a shade darker from the hot chocolate, and he knew that if he were in the front row he'd be able to smell the sticky sweetness in her breath.

"Today we're going to be demonstrating the culmination of a lot of important work in the Department of Education. As part of my initiative on smaller, more focused groups for those unable to attend Hogwarts, I have been collaborating with teachers of Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry to ensure that the first year curriculum is both safe and resistant to mistakes, as well as-"

"Yes, thank you, Miss Granger. Everyone here at the department is grateful that you were able to dedicate so much of your personal time to the DoE's research and furthering our aims and objectives!" A slender man stood up, clapping loudly, and walked to Hermione's side. "Miss Hermione, everybody, one of our junior department members. Wonderful work."

He gestured towards her and the crowd clapped unconvincingly, confused by the sudden change in presenter.

"My name is Martin Hagswort, a descendent of the Hogwarts the school was named after. It's why the DoE was always the right fit for me!" Martin paused for a laugh, an expectant expression framing his face, one eyebrow almost brushing against his hairline. The gathered crowd - mostly retired teachers and DoE professionals, tittered unconvincingly. "Thank you, Miss Granger. Please sit down."

Martin waved her over to a seat, keeping his hand on her notes as she walked away.

Perfect.

Severus could see the confusion and devastation lining Hermione's face - either she was an excellent actor or she hadn't really expected Martin to take over.

"We begin with Potions!" Martin walked over to the cauldron, warming up over a low flame. Hermione and Severus had had to carry that cauldron across the room together, setting up the demonstration, and seeing Martin using it - even knowing that that had been the intention all along - had Severus baring his teeth. Bastard.

"Now, this is the recipe for a simple Burn Salve." With a wave of his wand, Martin projected the recipe onto the white wall behind him in black paint, quite legible. Severus winced - hopefully Vector's magic wasn't copied with it. He scanned the recipe - for him it said half a lime, but for others? He scanned the crowd, and sensed Hermione doing the same. Puzzlement flittered across the room like a butterfly, turning neighbour to whisper with neighbour.

Damnit. If even one of them saw a whole lime instead of a half, the ruse was up. Why the hell hadn't they thought of this? Severus could have-

"Excuse me," an elderly gentleman stood, adjusting his collar. "But that recipe looks incorrect. It certainly isn't the same as was taught in my day."

"How so?" Martin asked, twisting towards the wall.

"A lime? A muggle lime? What is the world coming too?" A woman stood as she spoke, her expression haughty. "Really? A lime?"

Severus frowned. Everyone important was sat at the front, surely - but this woman was in the third row, the same as he himself was. Her voice held the intonation one always got from the upper classes - crisp and clear. Like Lucius', or the accent that Severus had tried to mimic as a student, Binns'. Severus didn't have time to wonder about the lady's hatred of citrus fruits. The whispers were dancing around him like a game of 'pass the hot pixie' and there couldn't be any suspicion that he'd tampered with the recipe deliberately. He cleared his throat and stood up, his heart faltering as several eyes turned towards his. He licked thin, dry lips.

Severus was used to speaking in front of crowds, damnit, he taught every day. He sat in the Great Hall and ate while brats whispered about him.

But he knew that most of the people in this room rightfully hated him. He'd had some of their families investigated for dark magic relics; the other half he'd insulted and terrified and bullied. Half the Wizarding population probably wished he'd died, Nagini's venom flooding his veins with slow, thumping beats. He could almost see the thoughts hovering over their heads.

But he needed to save Hermione.

"I taught many of you," Severus said softly. His voice rasped against his throat, and he swallowed and tried again. "As the chief liaison from Hogwarts on the Potion's curriculum, I can assure you that the recipe is correct."

"Explain yourself," the old man with the too-tight collar asked, working a thumb between himself and the material.

"It soothes the external appearance of the burn, turning the inflamed skin white. This has proved to correspondingly decrease pain, particularly in patients at both the younger and older ends of the spectrum, as they no longer expect it to hurt." This was mostly true, although Severus hadn't actually proved anything. He was cobbling that result from a similar experiment he'd read about in the Prophet science section months ago, on the treatment of spots. If the spot was less red, patients prodded it less. "Plus," Severus said, just as the crowd were returning their attention to Martin. Heads swivelled back. "It reduces the stench, and makes the result far less… overwhelming."

The rail-thin witch, who'd been so very against citrus fruit, clapped her hands excitedly. "That's really excellent," she said, leaning across the three people between them. Apparently her interest in the solution was so great she was able to overcome the Severus Snape forcefield that had the others shuffling chairs away from him. "Really, whenever we use ours we have to open all the doors and windows. And of course fires are far more common in winter time, never when you want the damned wind blowing through."

She squeezed his arm and sat back down.

Severus shuddered and turned his eyes forwards again, to where Martin had begun chopping, stirring and demonstrating for the 'class' the correct way to hold a knife. He saw Martin's eyes flick from the recipe to the ingredients waiting for him, and then turn to the lime.

Now was the moment. There would be a small pop as the lime would hit the potion's surface and be submerged, a few seconds while the skin melted against the highly alkaline burn salve - and then - that wouldn't be a burn salve any longer.

The pop sounded, startling a few people around the room, and the smell changed to one of a lime grove in Southern Italy. He wanted to grin ear-from-ear. Instead, he frowned, schooling his features into one of perplexed understanding.

"And that's all there is to it!" Martin said, using the knife to exaggerate his hand movements and emphasise his point, like somebody who didn't understand that knives are sharp.

Hell in a handbasket, Severus thought, looking around the room at the politely interested viewers. How had he not realised this was a possibility? Nobody would know that the man at the front had cocked up - after all, the Potion may be a different colour, but everyone had seen the changed recipe. Such small deviations might be expected.

And since Martin was weilding a knife, Severus couldn't even do some small, magical trick and upend him into the cauldron. Too dangerous - he didn't want to hurt the man. Okay, he might want to hurt the annoying, work stealing prick, but he knew Hermione wouldn't appreciate it.

Damn. What to do now?

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