"I-" Hermione stared up at them, her mouth hanging open. "I- If you'd just let me demonstrate the charms portion, you'd know that-"

"Hear hear!" The pencil thin woman agreed. "I fear that you've only proved the opposite point, my dear. You've shown that Potions are a dangerous and temperamental subject, best to be left alone. Perhaps you could have some kind of small classroom that taught only easy subjects - certainly no flying or Transfiguration, but perhaps History of Magic and Charms? Without a Mediwitch at hand…"

The murmuring around Severus increased, and he caught Hermione's eyes. Their gazes interlocked over the scandalised crowd, and Severus could feel the pull of desperation deep within them. She needed his help.

"Silence," Severus demanded, tearing the noise of the room in half.

The silence that rippled around him surprised Severus. He was, of course, used to commanding respect and obedience in a classroom, but these were seniors of the Ministry. In many ways, they were above him - not to mention that they lacked his reputation as a double-crossing spy.

Yet they sat there, staring up at him.

Severus realised with a cold, shocked sensation that he recognised many of them. Yes, he'd known them when they were shorter, fatter, thinner and almost every face was more lined and less spotty, but he knew these people.

It loosened the fear that gripped his tongue, vice-like. He had taught some of these as youths - and the others, he had taught their children.

"You will listen to Miss Granger with respect, rather than talking over one another like animals," he commanded, his voice gliding like a panther through the room.

"But, Professor Snape, surely you must see that your subject is too dangerous-"

"You!" Severus cut across the moustached man's rant and pointed at citrus-fruit witch. "Montgomery, wasn't it?"

"Jones, now. Married." Her response was brief, her eyes darting between Severus and the tops of her own shoes, whether in a continuation of her arm-squeezing flirtation or shock at having been called out, Severus couldn't be certain.

"Ms Jones, was Potions your favourite subject at school?"

"Why, no," she admitted, her lips pressed together. "I was rather… unskilled."

"You were a disaster. Yet you managed to graduate Hogwarts and roam the streets quite unobstructed, despite what you may or may not have learnt in my classes. You have not, I take it, accidentally blown anybody up while creating simple Potions."

"I buy most of them, actually." Mrs Jones blushed. "It's easier. Faster, safer."

"Interesting," Severus rubbed his hands together, trying to encourage blood to circulate back into them. He wasn't afraid anymore, now that he'd spoken and nobody had decried him a traitor, but his heart was still skipping less important parts of his anatomy, and the pads of his fingers were chilled to the touch. "So you haven't brewed a Potion since you left Hogwarts?"

"No."

Severus stepped out of his row in an awkward shuffle and made his way along the edge of the room towards Hermione. She was staring at him, brown eyes wide in her bonny face. For a moment Severus lost himself in imagination. What would it feel to trace the curve of that cheek, first with his fingers, then his lips?

He forced his gaze away from her, licking his lips.

"Martin," he continued, turning back to the crowd, "did indeed fail to follow the recipe. He brewed the incorrect potion. But was anybody harmed? He suffered a little minor embarrassment, being coated in mood paint, but surely he is uninjured?" The crowd muttered to themselves, but Severus held their attention in the palm of his hand. He allowed them that brief freedom before reclaiming the focus of the room. "How, then, can we brand potions as too dangerous when such a mistake did not lead to the loss of life or limb?"

"This time," the portly gentleman retorted, his finger held up and waving at Severus. "But children are idiots. Next time it will be grasswheat in a Pepper Up in a mad attempt to brew beer, and then where would we be?"

"Children have always been idiots," Severus agreed. "And they are idiots at Hogwarts as well. The teachers of these small classrooms will be able to bring any injured children to Hogwarts by Floo, of course."

"They would?" Mrs Jones asked. "That would go a long way to soothing parental worries."

"And, what's more, the curriculum was carefully vetted by myself and Miss Granger here, to ensure that none of the potions are easily made explosive, poisonous or dangerous in any manner."

The crowd muttered again. Severus could feel them sitting at the edge of a decision, but he couldn't tell which way they would fall. He had done his best.

"Perhaps," Hermione said, her voice tinny in the rush of blood filling Severus' ears. "Perhaps if Ms Jones would like to-"

"It's Mrs Jones," the woman smiled. "Sorry, continue."

"Mrs Jones. If you'd like to re-do the Potions demonstration?"

"Oh, no." Mrs Jones flushed bright pink. "I really think- That is-"

"I'll be able to guide you," Hermione pressed. "I'll be stood right here, at your side. And if anything goes wrong, Sev- Professor Snape is in the room. I think we can all agree he can handle himself in a crisis."

"But I'm a disaster, he said so! I can't brew a Hiccuping Potion, let alone a Burn Salve…"

"Please," Hermione waved her over. "Our students will be First Years. You won't face anything harder than the techniques you learnt there, I promise."

The room mumbled encouragement at Mrs Jones for a moment, until she sighed and stepped up to the table. With a wave of Severus' hand the materials and ingredients were replaced.

"Alright," Hermione began, "let's gather all our ingredients first. We'll need…"

Severus tuned out her voice as she listed the ingredients and how to prepare them, watching her hands around the piece of paper she clutched. They were steady - not shaking at all.

He was very, very proud of her.

And he was a little pleased with himself too.

At the end of her presentation, Hermione was flooded by Department employees, the heads and hearts she'd won during her presentation clamouring around her. Severus wanted to congratulate her, to celebrate her - but these people all had a reason for being here. It was their job. To distract her now would be unconscionably rude.

He strode down the hallway to the Floo, conscious of a weight in his pocket. The bracelet, of course. He turned back, to estimate whether he'd be able to slip into that crowd and hand her the bracelet - complete his duty to Minerva and to Hermione. If anything, the number of people had grown. One man was animatedly writing on the chalkboard by Hermione head, the chalk drawing plans and schemes Severus couldn't follow, no doubt based on the curriculum of their new, trial schools.

Hermione caught Severus' eye, and they shared a secretive, intimate, magical smile that Severus wanted to relive again and again. That was enough, then. He'd let her work in peace. He could always Owl the bracelet to her, after all.

It would, at the very least, be an excuse to talk to her again. Severus couldn't say no to that.

AN: A little shorter this week, but I think they're bubbling along quite nicely! Don't forget to leave a review - greatly increases the likelihood of my releasing the next chapter on schedule!

If you're not moved to leave a review on this one, please leave a review on the next story you read! Fanfic authors create these worlds for love of you, so be kind and reflect a little back!

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