Chapter 4: Of Bewilderment and Flying Cauldrons

Snape sat at his desk, head bent low over the pile of second-year exams he was grading. He did not look up for several moments. Hermione perched on the edge of her chair, unsure of procedure in circumstances such as these. Should she speak first? Apologize? Or would that incriminate her even further? Indecision, as it turned out, made the choice for her, as she was still struggling with the question when he spoke.

"Miss Granger. I presume your school year is proceeding tolerably?" She was thrown, admittedly. Snape did not beat around the bush; if this was some new way of toying with his students, she wasn't aware he'd adopted it. Realizing he expected an answer, she inclined her head.

"Professor. Yes, the term has been fine." The feathers stashed in her sleeve shifted with her every movement, tickling the crook of her elbow. She bit her lip in an effort not to smile; then he'd know something was up for sure. Couldn't he just get to the point already?

"I need to see a copy of your schedule." All right, now she was really confused. What on earth could her schedule have to do with the fact that she had been caught stealing - oh God, stealing - supplies for illicit potion-brewing from a teacher's classroom? Snape cleared his throat and leaned forward over the desk - a move she (probably correctly) suspected had been perfected over the years he'd spent finetuning the art of intimidation. "Miss Granger, you may have all day free to fritter away in the dungeons, but I can assure you I do not. Your schedule, please." He held out a hand. Stirred from her thoughts, she hastily rifled through the front pocket of her schoolbag and found the folded piece of parchment.

He unfolded and read; she clasped her hands not a little nervously in her lap, unsure of what this was all about. Snape made a small noise of something that might have been surprise. Or contempt. He shot her a look over top of the document. "Double charms period."

"Yes, sir."

"You're not planning on applying to an Auror training institution, then?" Ah. So that's what this whole little charade was. Get her to admit she didn't have what it takes to be an Auror, and humiliate her thoroughly by crushing the mudblood's one pathetic little attempt to prove she was really a Gryffindor at heart and not simply a pretender to the title. She had to give him credit; until that moment she would not have believed that even he could be so cruel. At least she still had a shot at keeping her dignity, she thought; he didn't need any more ammunition than he already had, and she certainly wasn't going to give it to him.

Hermione lifted her chin. "No, sir."

He dropped his eyes back to the parchment. "Good."

Well. THAT was certainly not what she'd expected.

"What? Um, I mean... sir?" Hermione, stunned out of her facade of bravado, stared at his implacable visage.

"Have you suddenly developed a hearing disorder, Miss Granger?"

"No... I just... What Professor Dumbledore said at the welcoming feast. That we all would be expected to fight for ourselves and each other. I thought..."

"Dumbledore was quite right. He usually is. Rather infuriating, actually. I believe, Miss Granger, you are forgetting a key statement. If you will recall, he said that each of you would be expected to use your individual abilities to their utmost potential. Mr. Potter and Mr. Weasley's particular... gifts... may indeed be best suited to getting themselves killed in the midst of a battle with Voldemort's minions." Hermione bit off a protest at this insult, curious to see how he would continue. "But I would venture to say that it would be a crime for you to waste your talents which, as much as it may pain me to admit it, are clearly evident in that manner."

Of all the possible outcomes to this situation - detention, suspension, expulsion - that had been running through her head since the end of the period, this was not one that had even crossed her mind. For one of the first and only times in her life, Hermione Granger was rendered speechless. She eventually was able to say the only words that one could in response to that statement from that particular man. "Thank you, Professor."

He refolded the parchment. "It was not a compliment. It was simply the truth."

She hesitated. "Professor, if I may ask... what is this about?" She was fairly certain that if this had in fact been about the filched feathers, she would've been on her way to Dumbledore's office long ago.

"Tell me, Miss Granger, what you know of magical theory." He folded his hands and leaned back in his chair slightly, as he often did after asking a particularly tricky question in class. She began to feel that this was a pop-quiz for which she wasn't completely prepared.

"Um, well, there are several basic principles that magic is believed to be based on... First of all, that the results of a spell depend upon the wizard's individual ability and intent. Both must be present for the magic to work, and the intensity of each affects the eventual effectiveness of the spell cast. Secondly, there are some basic physical limitations. The object of a spell generally has to be within the caster's line of sight. Also, the focus of power is important. Most wizards use wands as a tool for that purpose, but the truly powerful, like the Headmaster, are able to do wandless magic." She might have continued, but Snape raised a hand.

"Good enough. Rather rudimentary, but basically correct. Now, Miss Granger, please fetch one of the cauldrons used in today's lesson." She rose. "Without leaving your chair." He indicated the open door of the storeroom.

A bit puzzled, she sat down again, and raised her wand in the direction of the door. "Accio cauldron." In a matter of seconds, the requested item was levitating towards them. It settled gently on the desk - a refinement of the spell that she'd managed to master during fifth year.

Professor Snape nodded. "Would you be so kind, then, as to explain how that simple charm just violated the principles of magic you laid out not five minutes ago?" She blanched slightly at this. But... after all, he did say that her initial assessment had been true, didn't he?

"Well, I suppose... I suppose the line of sight rule must not apply to all spells. That's the only way to explain it." She shrugged.

"Then how, exactly, did that particular one work? If it was simply a matter of bringing anything in the direction you pointed that is defined by the word "cauldron" to this desk, I believe that we would now be sitting under approximately one ton of pewter." His brow was slightly furrowed, but not in the usual unpleasant manner. There had been only a couple of occasions over the years in which she'd seen him look like this - genuinely interested.

"I'm not sure, Professor. I think it's because I knew specifically which cauldron I was trying to summon - the one I'd set next to the utility sink to dry. I could see it in my mind."

"In other words, you are saying that your mental focus allowed you to cast the spell, even though the object of that focus was not in your sight?" She nodded. "All right, Miss Granger. That is acceptable for our purposes."

"Professor... I'm still rather confused. I'm just not sure what this has to do with... well, anything." The feathers were now benign and forgotten in her sleeve; it was clear that, whether he knew about them or not, that was not what this meeting concerned.

"You are aware, are you not, that the top wizarding universities require an independent study project to be completed as part of your application."

"Yes, I'd planned on speaking to Professor McGonagall about it later in the term. I was given to understand that these projects were conducted in the spring semester." Hermione was confused. Surely he wouldn't be actively seeking her out for work on a project? Not Snape.

"Usually, yes, they are begun somewhat later, but Dumbledore asked me to speak with you today. If you are interested, this particular project would be somewhat different than what one normally does to fulfill that requirement." Ah, that was it, then. Dumbledore was the reason he was here, talking to her like a relatively normal human being. Should've known. Still, she was intrigued. And any sort of project that would set her apart from the other applicants to university would be a great asset.

"What would this project entail, Professor?" It surprised her a bit that she was genuinely curious.

"Put simply, the goal would be to adapt an existing potion or, if necessary, create a new one that would enable the user to focus their intent and magic to the point that it would become no longer necessary to have a line of sight connection to the subject of the spell, or even be in its general vicinity. It is, of course, much more complicated than that, as I am sure you are aware. And there would be many side issues to deal with, which I am not going to bring up at this time. I would suggest, Miss Granger, that you now return to your room and think about it. This would not be a light commitment on your part. It will require long hours, hard work, discretion, and a large measure of devotion to a craft that is plainly not your first choice. After the next Potions class, we will meet again, and you will inform me of your decision. You may go." He picked up his quill again, seemingly as if the conversation had never taken place. Hermione got up from her chair and gathered her things, still a bit stunned. She had, for the second time that day, reached the door when -

"Miss Granger." She turned. "It would perhaps be prudent to not mention the details of this project to your classmates. You will understand at a later date." She bowed her head in assent.

"Understood, Professor." And, with a strange mix of relief and confusion echoing in her head, she left.

***

Harry and Ron were overjoyed when they found out that their plan had not been uncovered. So overjoyed, in fact, that they were hardly interested in what Snape had actually detained Hermione for. Just as well. She didn't fancy trying to explain to them why she couldn't tell them, especially when, in fact, she herself didn't really know. As for the decision itself, she decided to put it off until she'd had time to sleep on it. Their meeting had contained too much information, too quickly; her brain needed time to sort it out.

There was one element of the conversation, however, that vaguely nagged at her all day. It was only late at night, in the darkly velvet moment between consciousness and sleep, that she realized. Severus Snape had, in one short dialogue, shown more understanding of her nature than Harry and Ron - ostensibly her best friends - had ever since she'd told them she wasn't going to be an Auror. Perhaps longer than that, even. That thought, at best, was entirely disconcerting, and at worst? Hermione did not want to contemplate it. With a sigh, she slipped into the welcoming warmth of sleep.

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A/N: Some interaction at last! No sparks (yet...) but something's telling me this could be the start of a beautiful friendship. And, don't forget - we still have to figure out what exactly Draco is up to! Intrigue abounds. This chapter is up a bit early - it just wouldn't let me concentrate on studying. I can't promise when the next will be... maybe Tuesday or Wednesday, but I'm traveling quite a bit this week, so we'll see. I promise it'll be up as soon as humanly possible! My sincere thanks to everyone who's reviewed. You guys are the best. :) Again, if you liked it, hated it, even *read* it, please let me know! I love hearing from you, and comments make my day. Thanks again, and see you soon!