Chapter 8 -What 'happened' in your future-
Hermione held her breath. She couldn't wait to hear and find out.
Both women had stopped preparing the ingredients now. The older Hermione had leaned herself against the desk and looked at her curious younger self. "Well, about what happened in your future," she smiled, "as I said, I had a very bad headache at that time – at your time to be precise," she corrected herself with a grin. "I think I overdid my studies."
Hermione frowned. "How can one overdo one's studies?"
"Well, I most certainly did. I was determined to do the best at my graduation exam. I was obsessed. I knew that I needed top marks to fulfil the numerus clausus to be accepted at Stonehenge University Of Magical Studies in October, but if you study as frantically as I did back then – and you do at the moment - it's neither effective, nor healthy. No exam can be important enough to treat oneself like that. I would have driven myself insane if I had kept acting that way. I stayed up far too late in the mornings. I didn't stop reading until my eyes where burning from the strain and my back was aching like mad from hours of hovering over books and long rolls of parchment, not to mention my head. Just when I found myself rereading a passage over and over again, without getting its meaning, I gave up and when I finally lay in bed, I tossed and turned and couldn't find any sleep. My head was whizzing with the overload of information and wouldn't allow my exhausted body the rest it needed so desperately. I felt the burning urge to jump out of bed and look something up and many times I did. Within a few weeks I was a nervous wreck. But still I didn't stop to torture myself like that. I didn't listen to Harry and Ron, who tried to drag me away from my work for a walk in the grounds. I skipped meals, or wolfed a little food down while learning. I was horrible-"
A slight smile played around the older Hermione's lips, as she sank deeper into her memories. She seemed to relive every detail.
Since she was listening to her own voice and felt exactly the way about her studies and school leaving exam as her older self described it right then, it was very easy for the younger Hermione to get completely drawn into the other one's memories. She seemed to hear the familiar voices of friends and teachers in her head when her future self referred to what they had said or done. Even their emotions and thoughts became quite clear to her. Both women slipped away into a world that was the one's past and the other one's future …
¥
Hermione Granger put down her spoon and shoved the bowl away from herself with an unwilling expression on her face. Her two best friends looked at her with concern.
"Aren't you hungry?" Harry asked and she shook her head.
"No, my head feels like splitting any second," she muttered.
"How late did you stay up to study last night?" Ron asked with a frown.
"Just around four o' clock," Hermione muttered hastily, "no longer, I swear."
Harry shook his head at that. "That's far too late Hermione, honestly. You need to stop that."
"Yea, that's right," Ron agreed with a concerned look and nodded earnestly.
"What do you want me to do? If I can't sleep anyway, I might just as well study," Hermione spat. The next moment though, she covered her face in her hands and rubbed her temples furiously. "I'm sorry, I didn't mean to snap at you like that. I'm just terribly exhausted and my head is killing me."
Ron glanced at her with worry in his eyes and placed a hand at her shoulder. "Won't you see Madame Pomfrey about it?" he suggested, but Hermione just shook her head and stared at her bowl with a mournful expression on her face.
"I've already asked her for some Sleeping or Headache-removing Potion, but she refused to give it to me. Those potions were far too dangerous to be handled by students, she said. She was worried I might become addicted to them. She said, she wouldn't ever hand out those powerful concoctions to students, just treat them while they were in the infirmary and I didn't want to stay in there. Just think of all the time I would have lost at my studies."
"Mmm, maybe that was what she intended," Ron sighed. "Honestly, Hermione, you could certainly use some rest."
"The exams are ages away," Harry interjected and Ron nodded appreciatively. "That's true. Its merely January, there's certainly no need to make such a fuss about them now."
"Merely?" Hermione mocked. "It's the 14th already."
"So what?" Ron shrugged with a smile. "That's still six months to go."
She glared at them. "I knew you would look at things like that, you always did! I knew you wouldn't understand!"
At that Ron drew his hand back with a hurt expression on his face. "I only meant well," he muttered.
"Maybe you should ask Snape for help then," Harry suggested thoughtfully. "I'm sure he has something adequate in his store."
"Snape!?" Ron gasped with shock and glared at his friend. "That nasty git is more likely to poison her."
"Yes, maybe I'll actually do that," Hermione muttered with a shudder, "but not if I can help it. I don't want to give him any reason to make nasty comments about me."
˜~˜˜- O
The next Potions lesson though, put that decision out of her hands.
It was the last of their morning classes and Hermione felt so exhausted that she could barely keep her eyes open. They were brewing Will Strengthening Potion, but most of the work was already done. The potion just needed to simmer on for a while and Hermione could rest her thoughts. Not even Neville was bothering her at the moment. The constantly, lazy bubbling and silent hissing noises of twenty cauldrons and the dim atmosphere of the dungeon put her into a state of drowsiness that made it difficult to keep her eyes open. Several times she caught herself dozing off and flinched awake again the next second, but finally she lost the battle against sleepiness. Maybe, with the help of the Will Strengthening Potion that bubbled on in the cauldron beside her, she would have managed to stay awake, but unfortunately it wasn't ready then.
Without it, she fought a lost battle from the beginning and finally she gave in to the urge to lean back in her chair. Her lids drooped again and this time she kept them shut for just a fraction of a second too long. Every noise around seemed to drift away from her into a far away distance. Her head sank to her chest and her eyes stayed closed.
A sharp voice caused her to jerk them open again. "Miss Granger!" Snape snarled furiously, "If you could kindly please us with your attention?!"
With a jolt of surprise, she jumped in her seat and rammed her elbow into something hot and solid. Even before she was fully awake, she realised, she was in trouble. With loud clattering, her cauldron bounced to the floor.
˜~˜˜- O
Severus Snape couldn't believe such impudence. Never, since he had been teaching, had any student dared to fall asleep in his class and he certainly hadn't expected her of all people to be the first.
The shocked silence around made clear that everyone else was equally stunned. Not even the Slytherins dared to make any comments at the moment. He crossed the classroom with hurried steps. The one who had caused the trouble stared at him out of frightened eyes. Pink patches appeared on her pale cheeks as she started to stammer an apology. He silenced her with a dark frown. "I won't tolerate such behaviour in my class, Miss Granger," he snarled.
With a swish of his wand he wiped the steaming, pale-blue puddles away from the floor and glared at her. "This is hardly the place to take a nap. If you can't control your sleeping patterns any better, you will be banned from my lesson. Stay behind after class."
"Yes, sir," she muttered and hung her head, when the long expected wave of sniggering finally broke free at the Slytherin side. For some reason this infuriated him even more and he silenced them with another dark scowl. "This should be a warning to everyone," he glared. "Go back to work now. You can finish the potion along with Mr. Longbottom, Miss Granger, since most of the work that has been done on it is yours, anyway."This time it was the Longbottom-boy's turn to blush. Awkwardly he shoved his working materials aside and made room for the Granger-girl, who slipped silently into the seat beside him.
"You'd better stay awake this time. I expect this potion to work and it's ten points off Gryffindor for your carelessness, Miss Granger." With a swish of his robe Severus Snape whirled around and returned to his desk.
˜~˜˜- O
When she approached his desk at the end of the lesson, Hermione felt terribly nervous. She could only hope he wouldn't give her detention as it would completely ruin her plans for the evening. She didn't think that she could manage to spend a few hours on anything else than her studies. There was so much work to do. She hadn't been able to finish reading all the pages she had intended to the previous night. Her headache had seen to this.
Maybe, if she was lucky, she would get off with a few embarrassing remarks about her failure, but her hopes were most likely pointless. For what other reason would Snape have held her back, if not to give her detention? If he had intended to lecture her, he would have done so in front of the whole class for sure. She had never had any detention, with the exception of the incident with Norbert back in her first year, and she still shuddered at the memory of the Forbidden Forest.
If McGonagall as her Head of House had given her such a horrible detention, she didn't even dare to think of what Snape might set for her. He despised her as a Gryffindor and friend of Harry. She could try to prove herself to him as much as she pleased, he would never appreciate it. He called her an insufferable know-it-all instead, took house points from her for helping Neville and always made her hand out those ugly wriggling brown spiders or other nasty things.
Luckily he didn't know that she levitated them out of the glass as soon as he wasn't looking. She would have earned detention for sure otherwise. He only waited for a reason to do so and now that she had allowed herself a failure in his presence, he wouldn't let the opportunity pass without giving her the nastiest task she could imagine – better she got it over with. The sooner she began her work, the sooner it would be done. Carefully she cleared her throat. "Sir?"
He looked up from the paper in front of him with his trademark sneer. "Ah, it's the sleeping beauty."
Hermione felt herself blushing and closed her eyes in frustration. She had expected to be mocked, hadn't she? In her back she heard the last sniggering Slytherins shuffle out of the room, then the heavy wooden door fell shut. The classroom was uncomfortable quiet all of a sudden. Snape fixed her with an intense stare and the fact that he still sat behind his desk at the podium and she was standing in front of it wasn't helpful to make the situation any more comfortable for her.
"Can you tell me what caused this inadequate and completely unusual behaviour from you, Miss Granger?" he asked and she flinched with surprise at the dangerously silky tone of his voice.
"Not even Mr. Longbottom failed his potion today, so why did you? I thought your studies meant more to you. I thought you were mature enough to know about the importance of the final semester and could handle the allowances of a later curfew. Have I been mistaken by that impression?"
She swallowed hard at this. "No, Professor," she whispered awkwardly, "I'm well aware of that."
˜~˜˜- O
It was obvious that she was overtired. He wondered what – or who – had kept her up the previous night. He flinched with surprise at the feeling of annoyance that hit him at the idea that it might have been for another reason than her studies for a change - he certainly shouldn't care about that in the slightest.
For a long time he just studied her face. She was terribly pale, he noticed, and there were deep purple rings beneath her eyes. She had become quite thin, too. "Are you not well, Miss Granger?" he asked and the unexpected softness and concern in his voice caused her to lift her head and stare at him.
"No, sir, I'm fine, just a little tired. I'm sorry that I fell asleep during the lesson, it won't happen again."
A slight smile curled his lips. "I'd very much appreciate that, Miss Granger. I thought having to wake up one's students was a burden specific to Professor Binns," he sneered, "and I can assure you that it's not the most pleasant experience."
She looked at him as if she couldn't believe he was actually joking. Her whole posture was tense, her face pale and her expression nervous and hunted. He doubted that a detention would do any good in her case. She wasn't the type of student who neglected her work easily. There must be a reason for her strange behaviour.
Thoughtfully he got up from his chair and crossed the podium with carefully measured strides. He turned back in her direction when he reached the blackboard and continued his slow pacing.
"Is there anything troubling you?" he asked with an almost friendly tone in his voice that made her look at him with disbelief once more.
"No - well yes, sir. The exams, to be precise," she admitted reluctantly.
This time it was his turn to be surprised. "I wasn't aware of that," he frowned. "I can't imagine – you – of all students to have difficulties passing the exams. Which subject is causing the trouble? Transfiguration? History Of Magic? Arithmancy? Certainly not Potions?"
His face darkened at the slip of that last remark. He certainly hadn't intended to let her know that he appreciated her skills. She on the contrary seemed to lighten up at the indirect praise. Her pale cheeks got back a ghost of colour and her eyes widened. "Oh-"
Now she even dared to break into a smile, insufferable, annoying girl that she was.
"No, there isn't a specific subject and it's certainly not Arithmancy I'm having any problems with," she told him with that damn, annoyingly charming little smile. "It's my average that I'm worried about."
"Ah, I see." Another slight smirk curled his lips. This fitted the idea he had of her much better. "You probably stayed up most of the previous night studying then?" he asked and she nodded once again.
"Yes, I tried to finish reading 'Two Thousand Two Hundred And Twenty-two Tasks Of Transfiguration'"
"Oh-" he sighed almost sympathetically at that, "I remember that specific book quite well. It kept me busy for some time, but -" another slight sneer, "I never thought I would find any other living soul who took oneself the time to work its way through that huge tome. Did Min-er- Professor McGonagall ask this of you?" he frowned.
"No, she only told us to practice the 'Tricky Tasks' at the end of each chapter of our textbook."
"So you're reading that 'terrible T book' for your own pleasure, then?" he asked, taken aback.
"Well, pleasure might be a little exaggeration, but yes, I'm reading it on my own initiative. I need to practice for the exams, after all."
This time she didn't even bother to stifle the short laugh that escaped her lips at his words. People didn't laugh in his presence. They were either too frightened, or too full of dislike for him to do so and the harsh, cruel laughter of the other Death Eaters, or the high-pitched, horrible one of Voldemort couldn't be compared to the soft, merry sound either. It left him with an odd feeling of – He frowned – Pleasure. Completely distracted by these thoughts he tensed and fell back into his usual stiff manner of speech again.
"That might be honourable of you, Miss Granger, but it's completely unnecessary, I'm afraid. I can't imagine Professor McGonagall to base her exam tasks on information from an advanced book like that one."
She seemed to be quite disappointed at that statement. "You really don't think so?" she asked and since he didn't want to repeat himself he simply nodded.
"Ohh- that's bad. I've been working on it since early December-" she sighed.
"You should have better spent the time on reading 'Plenty Powerful Potions', I suppose," he couldn't resist teasing her. If he wasn't mistaken about her, this would most likely get her nervous. The shocked expression on her face proved him right and he actually needed to hide a smile. "That was a joke, Miss Granger. Don't you dare to fall asleep in my lesson again and tell me you started reading that book instead."
A relieved expression crossed her face. "Ohh- No, I won't," she promised.
Their eyes locked and she dared to give him a shy smile. Had he been confused by the fact that she was smiling while talking to him and laughed about one of his comments earlier, it was nothing in comparison to the effect it had on his mood to see her actually smiling – at – him, without a single word.
"That's a relief to hear, " he mocked, slightly nervous, but returned to a serious tone of voice when he continued, "I know it's already the final semester, but you should certainly get yourself some more rest, Miss Granger. You won't be able to keep up this hard work for another half a year."
˜~˜˜- O
Hermione's head snapped up with surprise at his words. Everyone else, even Madame Pomfrey, had just told her not to overdo things and that there was lots of time to prepare for her exams. She could hardly believe that it was Snape of all people, who seemed to understand.
"I'm aware of that. It's just that I'm having quite a bit of a headache lately and if I can't finish all the tasks I have set myself as a day's work, I don't sleep well."
"Maybe that's why you have that headache in the first place," he remarked.
"Most presumably, yes," she agreed, "Madame Pomfrey couldn't find anything organic, but what shall I do about it?"
"Haven't you tried a potion?"
"Not yet, no."
At that his eyebrows rose in surprise. "Why not? Don't get me wrong, Miss Granger. I'm certainly no one to encourage people to take a potion against every little unwellness, but in a situation like yours it is definitely appropriate."
Hermione hesitated. "I did see Madame Pomfrey about this, but she refused to hand out Headache-removing Potion or Sleeping Potion to me. She said it was to dangerous to dispense those potions at the discretion of students and I didn't want to stay in the infirmary."
"Ah yes, I see," he remarked thoughtfully, "Madame Pomfrey is a very responsible nurse. I know she's quite strict about those matters and she's right about it. One can get only too easily addicted to such powerful potions, especially in a situation like yours, where the matter that causes the problem lies so far ahead, but -" once again he crossed the room with a thoughtful expression on his face. "- you are quite a sensible young woman, Miss Granger," he said and she blushed at this second unexpected praise, and the fact that he hadn't called her 'girl' or 'student'.
As if he himself was uncomfortable with his choice of words, he frowned and added hurriedly, "A know-it –all, certainly, but nonetheless a mature one." The ghost of a smile curled his lips at that and for the first time she didn't take the despised term as an insult, but more or less as a well-meant tease that made her smile herself.
She looked at him with astonishment, when he continued, "In your case, Miss Granger, I think an exception can be made. You will handle that potion with care, won't you?"
She nodded, at a loss for words as he continued, "I'll brew a Sleeping Potion for you that is especially formulated to your needs. You won't have to take it for long. A few days will be probably long enough to break through that unhealthy circulus vitiosus of sleeplessness, headache and nervous restlessness. That should be all that is required."
Hermione couldn't help but stare at him. "Th-thank you, Professor," she stammered, taken aback. "That- That's very kind of you." She could tell from the way his pupils widened that he hadn't expected her thanks in the slightest, although his general expression remained unaffected.
"Come to my office this evening. Around – eight 'o clock."
"To serve detention?" Hermione asked, a little confused. She was still preoccupied with her thoughts and quite distracted by them.
"No, to get the potion. It should be ready by then. I don't think a detention would do any good in the matter," he sneered. "You would only stay up later tonight to catch up for the missed time – and that – is probably not the best idea."
Hermione could only agree to this.
˜~˜˜- O
By the time she arrived at his office that evening Hermione was hopelessly nervous. She couldn't tell for what exact reason, but she was. When the door wasn't opened at her knock, she tried a second time, louder and more determined and now a well familiar voice answered her request.
"Enter," Snape called from somewhere not very close by.
She did.
The room was empty when she stepped inside. There was not a bit of the Potions master. "Professor?" she asked, but got no answer. She had been in Snape's office before, but only once, in her second year, when she had taken Boomslang skin out of his storeroom to brew Polyjuice Potion. Back then, she hadn't taken herself the time to give her surroundings a closer look.
Now, on the contrary, she glanced around. It wasn't a huge room. Three torches in iron sconces at the walls spread a dim, flickering light. High shelves covered most of the walls. She shook her head in disgust at the sight of their contents. All kinds of nasty things floated inside the many glasses and huge bulging bottles in various coloured, turbid liquids.
She recognized several pieces of plants, fungi, something pale and white that looked like a very small sponge, but probably wasn't one. It must be a Troll-brain, she concluded. She had read about those. There was a bottle with a greyish-white clouded liquid in which an orange-white squid was floating and a number of glasses that contained potted frogs, toads and spiders.
A dark wood work-desk dominated the centre of the room. Two plain, likewise dark wood chairs in front, and a high-backed, upholstered one behind the desk completed the furnishings.
The fireplace was cold and empty and an icy chill filled the air. She shivered. This was certainty not the cosiest of rooms, but it probably wasn't intended to be so. It was the perfect atmosphere to make students shrink into their seats if they were called here for detention.
To her right, quite in the back of the room, a door was ajar. Carefully she stepped closer, but hesitated to enter. Snape was most likely in there and she knew for sure that this wasn't the door to the storeroom, which was right opposite the entrance door and closed at the moment. What if this was his bedroom or, even worse, the bathroom?
"Professor Snape?" she called again and this time he answered.
"Miss Granger, is that you? I'm in here."
She heard him approach the door and the next moment it was opened. Snape stood in front of her. Tall, lean and black-robed as ever. She got a glimpse of the room behind him and noticed it was no bedroom. It wasn't a bathroom either. For all it looked like it had to be a kind of study. She could see a large dark wooden workbench on which he was obviously preparing a potion, for it was loaded with all kind of ingredients. High bookshelves covered the walls, or at least the portion which she could see from her visible angle.
Snape stepped into the office and turned her attention away from the study. "I was counting droplets into a beaker and couldn't interrupt that task to respond," he explained briefly and added with a frown. "I didn't expect you this early."
Hermione decided better than to mention that it was bang-on eight o'clock, exactly the time he had told her and therefore hardly her fault. It was quite a surprise to see him act this civil around her anyway – almost polite – and that he had bothered to brew a potion for her in the first place. She didn't want to overstrain her luck and remained silent, but he was already continuing. "The staff meeting took longer than expected; I only just returned from there. The potion isn't quite ready yet."
"Oh – I'm sorry to bother you then-" Hermione began and started to move towards the exit again, but Snape shook his head. "Stay. It's all right."
It wasn't an exactly unfriendly remark, but it cut her off in mid-sentence. 'Well, so much for him being polite,' she thought and looked at him with some confusion. If the potion wasn't ready as he had said, what was she to stay for?
"Take a seat," he told her quite tensely and nodded into the direction of his work-desk. Immediately Hermione moved towards one of the plain wooden chairs, but he gestured towards his own large, high-backed and upholstered chair at the other side of the desk instead. "Over here."
She stopped in her tracks to look at him. His dark eyes met hers for a brief second, but his expression was cold and unreadable as ever. She felt kind of uneasy at the idea to take a seat in his chair, but sat down nonetheless.
Wordlessly he strode over into his study and returned to work. He didn't offer her any tea, not even a glass of water, but she hadn't really expected him to do so. She didn't fool herself about his order to take a seat in the upholstered chair, either. He probably just wanted her to sit where he could keep an eye on her.
Likewise she could now watch him working through the open door. He stood with his profile to her at the dark wooden workbench, which was covered with a huge amount of bottles and flasks with various coloured liquids, a couple of boxes, a lot of beakers and some vials and test tubes in a wood stand. On a pale-grey marble slicing-board she recognized some roots and a knife with a bright, sickle-shaped blade. Snape picked the blade up with his left hand, took one of the knobbly roots into his right and started to slice it with quick, well trained movements.
Hermione was impressed at how quickly and steadily he handled the sickle. It didn't slip a single time, nor did he have to stop in mid-movement to place the blade at a different angle. It seemed to fly over every unevenness in the rough, wobbly skin of the tubers.
Afterwards he started to rub the sliced roots across a piece of metal that looked similar to a kitchen rasp and caught the sliced bits in another dish. Hermione was oddly reminded of her mother preparing potato pancakes. She wondered all of a sudden if Snape might be good at cooking, and couldn't help but grin at the idea.
Unfortunately he chose just that moment to look her direction and frowned at the sight of her amusement. "Is there anything funny, Miss Granger?" he sneered with a trace of annoyance, his eyebrows rising in surprise and she hurried to assure him that it wasn't. "Oh no, sir it's nothing. I -"
"Well, that's a relief to hear," he mocked. "Maybe, you could do something useful for a change and have a look at the cauldron, while I'm collecting some ingredients at the store room."
Her eyes wandered immediately towards the door at her back. The brief, annoyed clicking of his tongue caused her to turn her eyes back at him. "I wonder, why you are so familiar with the local conditions of my quarters, Miss Granger," he sneered, but dropped the matter without further request.
Utterly relieved, Hermione got up from her chair and approached the workbench. When she entered the study, she was surprised how large it was.
The room continued on the left. There were no torches in here, but several candles on iron stands. The walls were of pale, yellowish sandstone and the many bookshelves were loaded with books. The furnishings were of clear line and un-presuming elegance. Besides the dark wood workbench at the right side of the room she discovered two large, high-backed armchairs in front of the huge, but empty fireplace and a monstrous old couch to her left. All of them were of dark green colour. 'Typical,' she thought and her lips switched into a grin. In the sitting area a large carpet covered the stone plates. It was webbed into ornaments of dark- and light-green and pale-beige colour.
There were three further doors that led out of this room. She wondered what might be behind. To her utter surprise she discovered two large, round light wells. She hadn't expected to find anything like that. In her imagination the dungeons were a chilly, dark hole deep beneath the floors of Hogwarts. But obviously there was very well a connection to the world outside in these rooms. These rooms – She suddenly snapped out of her thoughts and turned her attention back to their owner.
˜~˜˜- O
Snape had watched her closely during her inspection. He didn't know whether he should be annoyed or amused by her behaviour. How very Gryffindor of her to be this nosy and forget all about her surroundings like that. Gryffindor and a little stupid. Well that was hardly any surprise, was it? She seemed to be completely oblivious to his presence, while her eyes wandered along the equipment. He noticed how they widened at the sight of the many books on the shelves.
He glanced around and tried to look at this room, that was study and living room to him at the same time, with the eyes of a stranger. He wondered how it might appear to her. It was certainly not the cosy atmosphere she was used to from her oh-so-fluffy, brightly-lit, glorious tower, but it was a lot more comfortable than his office, he decided. Although it contained only few more private belongings. A chess board of black and pale-beige marble and his old graduation photo were the only things personal in here.
Not to forget the books, which dealt with all kind of topics from 'European History Of The Muggle And Wizarding World In Thirty Volumes', and an old copy of 'Encyclopaedia Britannica'; some books about Archaeology and the ancient Egypt over hardback exemplars of the most important science journals of the last two decades to literature like Voltaire, Kant and Shakespeare. There was a huge number of books and journals that dealt with Potions, of course, and a strikingly large number of books about the Dark Arts, written from both the light and the dark side's point of view, but also others for light reading like Jules Verne, Wilhelm Bush, Agatha Christie, E. T. A. Hoffmann, Oscar Wilde, Sir Arthur Conan Doyle, Daniel De Foe, Robert Louis Stevenson, and Edmond Rostand's 'Cyrano de Bergerac'. There were books of plates of Monet, Renoir, William Turner and Caspar David Friedrich, others about muggle chemistry and medicine, `Lehninger / Nelson / Cox – Principles of Biochemistry', 'Schmidt / Thews – Human Physiology' 'Fülgraff / Palm – Clinical Pharmacology' and an 'Atlas of Human Anatomy by Frank H. Netter'. There were biographies of famous people of both, the wizarding and the muggle world. Nicolas Flamel, Nostradamus, Galilei, Leonardo Da Vinci, Richard Wagner and Sir Thomas More, to name only some of them. One section contained his old schoolbooks and high upon the last shelf lay an old, well-thumbed copy of 'Grimms' Fairy Tales'.
Certainly an odd mixture and pretty twisted in his opinion. To his surprise he felt quite nervous all of a sudden. He felt oddly and uncomfortably exposed to the Granger-girl's examination of something as private as his bookshelf and he didn't like it at all. He wasn't used to having visitors, with the exception of Albus no one ever came down here. What was confusing him even more was the fact that her face didn't express any amusement or triumph, but an almost adoring excitement at the sight of this mixture of literature. Determined not to let her see behind his guards any further, he hid behind his usual sarcasm. "Is everything to your liking, Miss Granger?" he sneered.
With satisfaction he noticed that her cheeks flushed at his comment. "Oh- I'm sorry, sir, I didn't mean to intrude your privacy– I-"
Now he was definitely amused and he felt a lot of better now that he had the upper hand and was back on safe ground again. "Do you have your wand with you?" he asked and she looked at him in confusion for a few seconds.
"Oh – erw, yes, sir, yes, of course I have," she stammered.
"Very well. I need to get some more ingredients out of the storeroom. Keep an eye on the potion while I'm away. It is supposed to simmer, but mustn't boil," he commanded and rushed out of the room to escape the confusing situation.
˜~˜˜- O
"O-all right," Hermione muttered and took her wand out. She stepped over towards the copper cauldron. With a swish of his robe, Snape bushed past her, but to her surprise he turned towards a door on the right of the one which lead into his office. The storeroom had to be connected to both, the office and the study, she concluded.
She heard him rummaging through some boxes next room, while she kept an eye on the softly simmering yellowish liquid and reduced the fire as soon as she deemed it necessary. It was a funny feeling to brew a potion for her personal use in Snape's own cauldron.
After a few minutes he was back with the boxes he had taken from his stores. He stepped towards the cauldron and seemed to be satisfied at what he saw. "I'll continue," he commanded briefly. Hermione pocketed her wand and started to move back towards the office, when he suddenly looked up at her.
"Thank you for looking after the cauldron, Miss Granger."
At a loss for words Hermione stared at him for a few moments before a slight smile crept across her lips. "Thank you, sir."
"No need to thank me. You did a fine job on it," he told her. There was something in his voice that made her turn around and look at him again, and again she noticed the trace of disbelief in his eyes as she smiled at him. He didn't say a word, just looked at her. Very slowly and hesitatingly she walked back towards the workbench. "May I ask, what the potion contains?" she asked quietly.
"Well, of course you may, Miss Granger. There are some classical sleep-inducing or generally calming ingredients like, valeriana officinalis, garden balm, some catkin, primula veris, matricaria chamomilla and lavender – that's where the essence gets its colour from," he explained with a nod in the direction of the basket with dried lavender on the desk, "it will turn into a deep shade of lilac, once I add the powder of these."
Hermione's eyes followed his gaze. "Is that all?" she asked, surprised. "I can't see what's so dangerous about these ingredients that Madam Pomfrey refuses to give me the potion then."
This time the ghost of a smile appeared on his lips as well. "No, that's not all, Miss Granger," he sneered. "If you had bothered to listen to my explanations up to the end, you would have found out that there are some magical ingredients necessary as well. This potion also contains melandrium noctiflorum, solanum luteum, which tastes first bitter then sweet and gives the potion its characteristic taste. But it's the papaver somniferum, which makes the potion so very potent and dangerous. There mustn't be too much of it added as it's likewise repressing the induction to breath. But you needn't worry, I'm handling it with care."
He took one of the test tubes out of the stand. "This substance here, is hypericum perforatum. It's not dangerous, but like the papaver somniferum it mustn't be added as long as the concoction is still hot. Both substances would be damaged and lose their effectiveness otherwise. Hypericum perforatum isn't a necessary ingredient to this potion, but I think it will come in handy in your case as it's helpful to release tension and improve one's mood."
Hermione listened fascinated to his explanations. If she hadn't been so exhausted, she could have stayed all night and watched him working. He suddenly turned his head to look at her. "You aren't allergic to any of these substances, are you?"
"No, I'm not - as far as I know."
He didn't look very pleased at this. "We need to be sure. I'm not willing to take that risk," he told her. "We'll test the potion later on."
He send a calculating look in her direction. "You're tired. Take a seat now, before you knock anything over by your tipsiness." With that he pointed towards the pair of dark-green armchairs by the fireplace in which no fire was harboured.
This wasn't exactly flattering, but Hermione was too exhausted to complain about his lack of politeness and followed his order gratefully.
He then picked the dried lavender plants out of the basket to his right, separated the leaves and dark lilac blossoms from their stalks and sprinkled them into a small terracotta dish. After that he began to carefully pound them with a pestle.
For a long time he worked in silence until all parts had turned into a very fine powder. Hermione felt some of the tension leave her body. Reluctantly she leaned back into the armchair and tried to relax the best she could. She had never seen Snape brewing a potion before. He handled the vials, beakers and pipettes like a piece of art. It was fascinating and strangely calming to watch him at his work. Right now, he decanted the dark-lilac essence into a couple of small vials and held one of them against the back of his hand to test the temperature.
"No," he muttered, then turned his head to look at her. "The liquid is still too hot to finish the potion yet. We'll have to wait for a couple of minutes."
At a loss for an answer, Hermione just shifted her position back to the edge of her seat and nodded.
Snape watched her. He leaned back against the desk and folded his arms in front of his chest. It made her feel horribly clumsy and uncomfortable. After what seemed to be several minutes, he finally spoke. His voice was soft, but not in the silky way, he used it as a threat. "You should sleep well this night, Miss Granger, you'll see. This potion will be able to keep the worries away. If you apportion your studies more carefully from now on, you should be back to normal within a few days."
Once again he tested the temperature. With a slight nod he put it back into the stand beside the others. "Yes, it should be all right by now," he muttered and turned his head to look at her. "I'll add the two final ingredients now."
Once again Hermione watched him with fascination. He picked up a pipette and counted the droplets of both essences carefully into the row of test tubes. Afterwards he corked each of them and placed them into a small leather bag, which he carefully closed with a band. Only then he looked up from his task again. With few strides he crossed the room and handed her one of the small vials. "Here. Take the first dose while you're still here to make sure you're not allergic. Don't worry, you won't fall asleep immediately. It's no narcotic," he mocked, "just a sleeping potion – Yet a powerful one, but it won't start to work any earlier than half an hour and even then there will be enough time to walk back to your tower. It's not the 'Draught Of Living Death' you know?"
Hermione smiled and took the vial he offered her. She regarded the deep-lilac essence for a moment before she brought the glass to her lips and tilted her head back. Like he had said earlier, the taste was bitter at first, but turned sweet after a few seconds. She emptied the whole vial, then she leaned back into her armchair and waited. At first there wasn't any difference, but after some minutes she felt herself getting very relaxed and calm. She didn't even feel uncomfortable under the penetrating stare of Snape, who watched her closely all the time. He had to so that he would notice the first signs of a possibly hypersensitive reaction. There was noting to worry about. He only tried to help her. She looked up and smiled at him. Even his voice didn't occur frightening to her anymore, when he spoke. "Are you feeling well, Miss Granger?" he asked and she was sure she heard a trace of concern in his voice.
"Oh yes, I'm fine, Professor," she smiled.
He frowned. "You're not feeling hot or dizzy, and you're not having any difficulties breathing, are you?"
She shook her head and smiled once more. "No sir, I'm feeling very comfortable, relaxed and slightly warm inside and I'm getting quite tired all of a sudden, but I'm fine. I really am."
˜~˜˜- O
Well, she might be fine, but Snape was really worried all of a sudden. This potion was supposed to release tension and put her at ease with her worries and fears to give her the possibility of falling asleep. He hadn't meant to alter her point of view towards him, but most obviously he had. How on earth could she feel this comfortable in his presence otherwise? No one ever did – well maybe Albus, but he wasn't the rule - he couldn't see why she of all people should be an exception. Quite worried he got up from his seat and approached her armchair. He took her wrist in his hand and checked her pulse. It was strong and regularly, but not rushed. She wasn't gliding into a state of shock and wasn't feverish either. The skin of her forearm felt dry and warm yet very soft and smooth, he noticed – As quickly as it had occurred to him, he abandoned the thought. This was hardly of any importance to him. He couldn't see why he had noticed it in the first place.
"Well, that seems all right," he muttered and released her wrist in haste.
Once again she looked up at him with a smile. The expression of drowsiness in her huge brown eyes told him that the potion had started to work. She would sleep well this night. He forced his lips into a thin smile and handed her the small leather bag.
"You should return to Gryffindor Tower now, Miss Granger," he told her. "Come back in four days. I'll have a weaker version of this potion ready by then. Even after these few days, it mustn't be discontinued abruptly and don't hesitate to let me know if there should be anything wrong. Miss Granger, do you hear me?"
¥
Hermione traced her fingers carefully along the splits and cracks in the old, dark wooden workbench. It was an odd feeling to know that he would have prepared a potion for her at right this desk in only three days in their own time, if it hadn't been for their task. Tow days from now, she corrected herself. They had already spent one night in the future.
Thoughtfully she looked down at the little pestle she had worked with before. She picked it up and turned it in her hands. She wondered, if it might be the same one with which Severus had pounded the lavender-blossoms for her potion back in her – well – then. She didn't even know whether to think of that point in time as past or future anymore. Things would probably develop a different way now, wouldn't they?
It was even then that she noticed her future self watching her intensely.
"But that's only three days from when we started at our time," Hermione muttered.
Her older self looked at her. "Well, I wonder why you got out at September 15th then," she smiled.
"It-It's September now?" the younger Hermione stuttered in confusion, but smiled all of a sudden, "Oh- that's why. I already wondered what was so strange when I went for a walk outside in the grounds yesterday. It's the trees. They are green."
She suddenly frowned. "But why did we get out more than half a year ahead from the time we intended to travel to? Do you have any clue about that?"
Her older self seemed to be quite amused by this. "Well, I could imagine, you got a little arrw- distracted by Severus, when he was so close to you all of a sudden. Is that possible?"
The younger Hermione nodded and flushed bright red all of a sudden. "Erw, yes, that might be - I – He – I was wondering about his scent. I, I liked it – a lot and – I liked the feel of his hands at my shoulders, but it made me quite nervous at the same time, too. But I didn't know, why-" she frowned again, "Maybe- Yes, my hands were shaking quite a bit, when I turned the Year-Glass. Do you think that's why it didn't work correctly?"
"Probably," the older Hermione agreed with another smile. "But don't worry. The five years that potion needs to rest have past. It shouldn't be any problem that it has rested for a few month longer, I suppose. If you had got out earlier it would have been different of course. But this way it's fine."
Hermione smiled at her older self with a mixture of relief and embarrassment. "Oh that's good, but I'm sorry, I still can't see how everything could have happened from all you told me so far."
The older Hermione leaned back against the desk once more. Her smile widened at the curiosity and confusion on her younger self's face. "Well-" she started off again ...
A/N: This has turned out to be a rather long chapter once again. I would have liked to write more, but the development of their relationship needs time and is too much fun to be told in a mere summary. So I'll give you several glances at the development of their relationship in the past, while continuing with the story in the future.
Thank you for all reviews and e-mails to the previous chapter. I'm so happy that you like this.
Special thanks to SilentG for beta reading this chapter.
*MistressOfMayhemof2005* Thanks for the first review to the 7th chapter.
*Ophelia* No, I won't make them obliviate themselves. They'll remember everything when they go back in time.
*LilyAyl* Hermione is wondering about the same things right then. She is just reluctant to talk to Sev about it, because this must be horribly embarrassing for them at that time.
*Orange* I'm glad that you don't want me to
kill poor Sev anymore. The exam was fine, thank you for asking.
*PotionsMastersMistress* The future Snape and Hermione started to dream
about the changes of their past, when Dumbledore set the task for their former
selves.
*Silver'Chime* You're right, I can't give you many answers. Just one: I'll bring them back into their own time in this story.
*sOmEoNeSpEcIaL* She does know this and she promised her older self not to interfere ...
*snowieaddz * Thank you for the explanation. I didn't know about the difference so far. The 7'th chapter wasn't revised, when I posted it. But now it is and I've fixed the misspelling.
*hellsong* OMG now I'm blushing.
Someone *anonymous* Oh yes, they will remember the future when they get back in time.
*Mylea* Thank you a lot for this nice review
*tiger* Here's number 8. How is Bobby, by the way?
*Cyrano de Bergerac* I think it's quite funny that I picked this very book to be mentioned by title and author in this chapter, when Snape thinks about the contents of his library. Discovering your pen name in the review box really made me smile.
Serpentina