AN: As always, disclaimers in the Prologue.
I did get a review saying that Lupin's reaction to Hermione's news was rather - well, for lack of a better word - dull. I wanted to address this above all; that was completely and totally intentional. I'm not going to say any more, but rest assured that there is a reason and all will become clear in good time.
CHAPTER FOUR
Birth
'Birth signifies the beginning. For most, it is THE beginning. That is also why,' scribbled Hermione, 'the term "re-birth" is also often used.' Placing down her quill, Hermione sighed and rubbed her forehead. She had six inches for Muggle Studies due on Wednesday, and she wanted to get it done now. After all, philosophy had never been a strong point of hers; she much preferred logic and mathematics and - dare she say it? - potions, where things were definite and true, finite and stable. The square root of 49 was not somewhere between six and eight; it was not debatable. It was seven. Period. End of story.
"'Mione, are you coming? We're playing a pick-up game of Quidditch outside. Madam Hooch has agreed to let us." Ron said eagerly, interrupting Hermione's line of thought.
She looked up and shook her head with a small smile. "No, thanks, Ron. I want to get this essay for Muggle Studies done. You know how I hate philosophy."
Standing behind Ron, Harry grimaced. "C'mon, Ron. Hermione'll be much happier if she gets this done."
"Yeah, good luck," Ron said wryly. "Hope it writes itself for you, we'll be back after the game's done."
She smiled wider this time, thankful for such understanding friends. "Thanks, guys. Have fun."
Chatting about who might be Seeker for the other side already, Harry and Ron waved at Hermione, then exited the library, headed for the Quidditch pitch. She lowered her head again towards the parchment.
Just then, she heard a familiar voice speaking with Madam Pince. Hermione couldn't quite place it, and her head popped up to glance at the newcomer.
It was Professor Snape! Concentration lost, Hermione began rooting through her bag in search of her notes, and finally resurfaced a minute later with a sheaf of parchment.
"Professor!" Hermione hissed as she got up and hurried in his direction, trying to stop him from leaving. "Professor Snape!"
He turned and scowled at her. "Miss Granger. There are potions that need my attention. Can this wait?"
She pushed the thick stack of notes into his arms. "I just wanted to give you these. It has the ingredient list I need, as well as my thesis and my notes."
Snape stared at her evenly. "Was it truly necessary to copy the whole of Moste Potente Potions four times over for me, Miss Granger?" he asked, voice icy. Hermione blushed.
"Sorry, sir. It's just - the topic is so fascinating, and there's so many possibilities..." she began to babble.
"Miss Granger!" Snape interrupted her sharply, causing Madam Pince to subject them both to Death Glares of her highest level. "The Wolfsbane Potion waits for no one, especially not upstart, know-it-all seventh years!"
Hermione's eyes widened and she blushed even harder, looking down. "I'm sorry, sir," she said. "Do you - do you need any help brewing the potion, sir?" she asked timidly.
"The Wolfsbane is far beyond N.E.W.T. levels, Miss Granger," Snape said coldly. "In fact, the Polyjuice Potion is one of the only potions that are known to be above that level."
"I can brew the Polyjuice Potion!" Hermione said eagerly. "In Second Year..." she trailed off, looking as if she had just committed a cardinal sin.
"Please, do continue," Snape said, Wolfsbane Potion forgotten, curiosity piqued.
"I'm sorry, sir. It was nothing."
Snape regarded her for a moment, scrutinising her carefully with his sharp gaze. "Alright. Gather your things, QUICKLY, and meet me in the Potions classroom. We have already wasted enough time. I fear I may require assistance now that I've dawdled," he said, complaint well veiled. He quickly strode from the Library, and Hermione nearly tripped over herself trying to gather her things.
=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=
The door to the Potions classroom was open, apparently in anticipation of Hermione. She entered and looked around.
"In the back," came Snape's voice, and the girl quickly entered the back workroom through a door that was slightly ajar. She pointed her wand at the door to the Potions classroom and muttered a lock and a ward, without being asked, and Snape resisted the urge to look at her approvingly.
"The instructions are on page 496 of Moste Potente Potions, on the counter." Snape nodded in the direction of a thick leather-bound tome lying on a black countertop.
Hermione hurried over and flipped the book open, briefly running her finger carefully down the spine of the book in reverence. Murmuring comprehension and retention charms over the words, the girl only skimmed them through before joining her Potions Master.
"You'll need the powdered asphodel next?" she inquired, and Snape nodded sharply.
They got to work in silence, with Hermione mumbling small spells and charms from time to time to help along the measuring.
The older man was loath to admit it, but he was finding Hermione's presence not only helpful, but somewhat - comforting, in a strange sense.
Before either of them knew it, it was past dinner and the potion was complete. "Thank you," said Snape grudgingly; he wasn't used to thanking anyone, much less a student. "Are you hungry? I'll call a House Elf to bring something down," he offered; it was more out of instinct than anything else, really.
Hermione shook her head. "It's quite alright. It's almost past curfew, I'd better get back. Thom has rounds tonight," she said, in reference to the Ravenclaw Head Boy. "Thank you, though."
Snape frowned. "Perhaps I'd better walk you back." The reason was left unsaid but too well understood by the both of them; Malfoy.
"That would be good, thanks," Hermione said. "Let me just gather my things."
The Potions Master nodded stiffly. "I'll be out in a minute," he told her, as Hermione left the room and shut the door behind her. Snape pinched a bit of Floo powder from a small case atop the unseen mantle; in almost every room in Hogwarts, there was a fireplace, it was simply that you couldn't see them in some of the rooms. The fireplace in this workroom was that way; it only appeared when needed to Floo someone, and was perpetually lit. Unless needed and showing, the fireplace sort of "phased out" so that it wouldn't interfere with anything.
"Lupin!" Snape said into the green flames, and Professor Lupin's face appeared.
"Severus," the werewolf said tiredly.
"I've finished the Wolfsbane Potion."
"Thank you," said Lupin, and stepped through the fireplace to take the goblet from Snape. He took it down all in one gulp and grimaced as he handed the goblet back to the Potions Master. "I swear it gets worse every time."
"It must be your imagination," Snape replied drily. "Now, if you don't mind, I have to escort Miss Granger back to her room."
Lupin's eyebrow lifted, but he said nothing, and Snape sighed.
"She helped me complete the potion, after pulling me off schedule this afternoon in the library," he explained, and a small smile of understanding lit upon Lupin's face.
"I was wondering why the potion was done a bit early this month."
Snape glanced at the clock upon the usually unseen mantle. The potion was finished before it usually was, despite his having been "pulled off schedule". "Then," said Snape with his characteristic scowl, "I will be sure to ask Miss Granger to come next month as well."
Lupin smiled, not saying anything in response to the crude joke; most people believed Snape did not joke, but quite to the contrary, his humour tended to be much more subtle than most. "Thank you, Severus," he said, and disappeared through the fireplace again. Snape waved it away and emerged into the Potions classroom, where Hermione was waiting.
"Shall we go?" he asked; Hermione did not inquire as to what Snape had been doing. She didn't need to; she knew.
"Please," she said instead, and they walked back up to the Head Girl's Room together, in silence.
It was the birth of a beautiful relationship.
I did get a review saying that Lupin's reaction to Hermione's news was rather - well, for lack of a better word - dull. I wanted to address this above all; that was completely and totally intentional. I'm not going to say any more, but rest assured that there is a reason and all will become clear in good time.
CHAPTER FOUR
Birth
'Birth signifies the beginning. For most, it is THE beginning. That is also why,' scribbled Hermione, 'the term "re-birth" is also often used.' Placing down her quill, Hermione sighed and rubbed her forehead. She had six inches for Muggle Studies due on Wednesday, and she wanted to get it done now. After all, philosophy had never been a strong point of hers; she much preferred logic and mathematics and - dare she say it? - potions, where things were definite and true, finite and stable. The square root of 49 was not somewhere between six and eight; it was not debatable. It was seven. Period. End of story.
"'Mione, are you coming? We're playing a pick-up game of Quidditch outside. Madam Hooch has agreed to let us." Ron said eagerly, interrupting Hermione's line of thought.
She looked up and shook her head with a small smile. "No, thanks, Ron. I want to get this essay for Muggle Studies done. You know how I hate philosophy."
Standing behind Ron, Harry grimaced. "C'mon, Ron. Hermione'll be much happier if she gets this done."
"Yeah, good luck," Ron said wryly. "Hope it writes itself for you, we'll be back after the game's done."
She smiled wider this time, thankful for such understanding friends. "Thanks, guys. Have fun."
Chatting about who might be Seeker for the other side already, Harry and Ron waved at Hermione, then exited the library, headed for the Quidditch pitch. She lowered her head again towards the parchment.
Just then, she heard a familiar voice speaking with Madam Pince. Hermione couldn't quite place it, and her head popped up to glance at the newcomer.
It was Professor Snape! Concentration lost, Hermione began rooting through her bag in search of her notes, and finally resurfaced a minute later with a sheaf of parchment.
"Professor!" Hermione hissed as she got up and hurried in his direction, trying to stop him from leaving. "Professor Snape!"
He turned and scowled at her. "Miss Granger. There are potions that need my attention. Can this wait?"
She pushed the thick stack of notes into his arms. "I just wanted to give you these. It has the ingredient list I need, as well as my thesis and my notes."
Snape stared at her evenly. "Was it truly necessary to copy the whole of Moste Potente Potions four times over for me, Miss Granger?" he asked, voice icy. Hermione blushed.
"Sorry, sir. It's just - the topic is so fascinating, and there's so many possibilities..." she began to babble.
"Miss Granger!" Snape interrupted her sharply, causing Madam Pince to subject them both to Death Glares of her highest level. "The Wolfsbane Potion waits for no one, especially not upstart, know-it-all seventh years!"
Hermione's eyes widened and she blushed even harder, looking down. "I'm sorry, sir," she said. "Do you - do you need any help brewing the potion, sir?" she asked timidly.
"The Wolfsbane is far beyond N.E.W.T. levels, Miss Granger," Snape said coldly. "In fact, the Polyjuice Potion is one of the only potions that are known to be above that level."
"I can brew the Polyjuice Potion!" Hermione said eagerly. "In Second Year..." she trailed off, looking as if she had just committed a cardinal sin.
"Please, do continue," Snape said, Wolfsbane Potion forgotten, curiosity piqued.
"I'm sorry, sir. It was nothing."
Snape regarded her for a moment, scrutinising her carefully with his sharp gaze. "Alright. Gather your things, QUICKLY, and meet me in the Potions classroom. We have already wasted enough time. I fear I may require assistance now that I've dawdled," he said, complaint well veiled. He quickly strode from the Library, and Hermione nearly tripped over herself trying to gather her things.
=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=
The door to the Potions classroom was open, apparently in anticipation of Hermione. She entered and looked around.
"In the back," came Snape's voice, and the girl quickly entered the back workroom through a door that was slightly ajar. She pointed her wand at the door to the Potions classroom and muttered a lock and a ward, without being asked, and Snape resisted the urge to look at her approvingly.
"The instructions are on page 496 of Moste Potente Potions, on the counter." Snape nodded in the direction of a thick leather-bound tome lying on a black countertop.
Hermione hurried over and flipped the book open, briefly running her finger carefully down the spine of the book in reverence. Murmuring comprehension and retention charms over the words, the girl only skimmed them through before joining her Potions Master.
"You'll need the powdered asphodel next?" she inquired, and Snape nodded sharply.
They got to work in silence, with Hermione mumbling small spells and charms from time to time to help along the measuring.
The older man was loath to admit it, but he was finding Hermione's presence not only helpful, but somewhat - comforting, in a strange sense.
Before either of them knew it, it was past dinner and the potion was complete. "Thank you," said Snape grudgingly; he wasn't used to thanking anyone, much less a student. "Are you hungry? I'll call a House Elf to bring something down," he offered; it was more out of instinct than anything else, really.
Hermione shook her head. "It's quite alright. It's almost past curfew, I'd better get back. Thom has rounds tonight," she said, in reference to the Ravenclaw Head Boy. "Thank you, though."
Snape frowned. "Perhaps I'd better walk you back." The reason was left unsaid but too well understood by the both of them; Malfoy.
"That would be good, thanks," Hermione said. "Let me just gather my things."
The Potions Master nodded stiffly. "I'll be out in a minute," he told her, as Hermione left the room and shut the door behind her. Snape pinched a bit of Floo powder from a small case atop the unseen mantle; in almost every room in Hogwarts, there was a fireplace, it was simply that you couldn't see them in some of the rooms. The fireplace in this workroom was that way; it only appeared when needed to Floo someone, and was perpetually lit. Unless needed and showing, the fireplace sort of "phased out" so that it wouldn't interfere with anything.
"Lupin!" Snape said into the green flames, and Professor Lupin's face appeared.
"Severus," the werewolf said tiredly.
"I've finished the Wolfsbane Potion."
"Thank you," said Lupin, and stepped through the fireplace to take the goblet from Snape. He took it down all in one gulp and grimaced as he handed the goblet back to the Potions Master. "I swear it gets worse every time."
"It must be your imagination," Snape replied drily. "Now, if you don't mind, I have to escort Miss Granger back to her room."
Lupin's eyebrow lifted, but he said nothing, and Snape sighed.
"She helped me complete the potion, after pulling me off schedule this afternoon in the library," he explained, and a small smile of understanding lit upon Lupin's face.
"I was wondering why the potion was done a bit early this month."
Snape glanced at the clock upon the usually unseen mantle. The potion was finished before it usually was, despite his having been "pulled off schedule". "Then," said Snape with his characteristic scowl, "I will be sure to ask Miss Granger to come next month as well."
Lupin smiled, not saying anything in response to the crude joke; most people believed Snape did not joke, but quite to the contrary, his humour tended to be much more subtle than most. "Thank you, Severus," he said, and disappeared through the fireplace again. Snape waved it away and emerged into the Potions classroom, where Hermione was waiting.
"Shall we go?" he asked; Hermione did not inquire as to what Snape had been doing. She didn't need to; she knew.
"Please," she said instead, and they walked back up to the Head Girl's Room together, in silence.
It was the birth of a beautiful relationship.