Chapter Two: The Dungeons
Two days later, the faculty finally gave in and let Hermione out of the hospital wing, although they would keep a close eye out for any effects the potion may have had on her, especially on nights of lunar significance. Almost at once, it seemed, Hermione threw herself back into her studying, muttering about bad starts to the term and getting behind and, once she faced the problem of a blank parchment instead of a DADA essay, failing.
Hermione took a trip to the library to investigate in the restricted section. It was hard going, but eventually she had a plan of what she would write in her essay, which was expected to be about 9 feet, as one of her major tasks of the year. She wasn't particularly craving the rants of Harry and Ron ('Third day of the year!', '9 feet! That's more than we've ever had to write!'), and so she remained in the library until she had written her first draft, and then returned to the common room to catch up with the boys and, of all things, the homework she had missed the day before.
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Severus Snape was inundated with books about werewolves and wolfsbane and potion accidents when Dumbledore waded through his private rooms to talk to him about the sixth year - first year potions program they were to organise. To be frank, Dumbledore had never seen Severus' rooms so out of their usual frosty neatness, and it made him wonder why exactly Severus was so pedantic about finding out what that potion had done to Miss Granger - for Severus had received such a little dose and certainly none through the mouth that it could not have affected him. Snape, not wishing to co-operate, ignored Dumbledore for as long as he could, grunting and murmuring half-answers until Dumbledore conjured up a chair for himself and banished the books to a corner, where they promptly shrank and packed themselves neatly into four piles. Unfazed by this wandless magic but annoyed he would now be confronted by Albus Dumbledore, Snape got up to pace around the room.
"Have you decided when the sixth years will teach their first lesson, Severus?" Albus began lightly, twirling jubilantly around on his chair which had suddenly acquired the ability to swivel.
"No."
"Have you talked to them at all?"
"No."
"Have you got lesson plans for them?"
"They can use the ones I use myself."
"Are you ever going to stop doing this," he motioned to the books in the corner, "before you have a perfect, resolute answer?"
"That's off-topic."
"I realised."
"Good."
"Severus, I need you to co-operate. It would be a shame if this didn't work out. When do you have your next lesson with the sixth years?"
"Tomorrow."
"And the first years?"
"The day after."
"Good. I expect the lessons to start then, in that case. You should talk to the sixth years beforehand so they may notify their teachers, and give them copies of your lesson plans." Snape gave no sign that he had heard, but Dumbledore knew he had. "Well then. I suspect you may be surprised at the outcome of this little... adventure, Severus." And at that, Albus swept from the room with purple brocade, pausing before the door to flick his hand and set the room to rights - or, at least, how it had been before he had entered, the door seeming to expand to allow room for his tall, pointy hat to pass through without the need to duck. Snape sat down and groaned, momentarily putting the book to one side to fish out his lesson plans and make two copies of his next two first year lessons.
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Suprisingly, Hermione had no homework from the two days she had spent in the hospital wing. Although Harry and Ron seemed reassured by this fact, as Hermione insisted, "It's all the more worrying! I'll have to catch up in class now! No homework! We must have done so much in class!" And, indeed, apart from their one potions lesson where both Hermione and Professor Snape were 'indisposed', the faculty had appeared to simultaneously do impressions of Minerva McGonagall (except for, of course, Professor McGonagall, who simply worked harder than normal, if it were possible) and had worked their classes harder than ever before, even though no OWLs nor NEWTs were making their awful appearance at the end of the year for the sixth years, and had only taken pity on their students as they had worked them so hard so closely proceeding the start of the school year. Of course, they had mentioned, that wasn't going to be a regular occurence and soon the teachers would be working them hard both in the classroom and the common room. The fact that McGonagall, of all people, had not given them any homework, only caused Hermione to procrastinate further and, had it not been for drastic measures taken by Harry and Ron, Hermione would have re-read all her texts before dawn, instead of concentrated on her DADA essay.
For despite thorough planning, Hermione was not convinced she had done a good enough job on her draft. Encloaking herself within her secure curtain realm once more, Hermione stared out of the window and supped hot tea that had arrived from the kitchens with but two taps of the wand - a brainstorm of Fred and George's. She was reluctant to use their service but, after much convincing from Hagrid, she had decided that sending down compliments on the house elves' excellent cooking was the only thing that would make them any happier, and indeed such comments were only increasingly earned. Using her quill-pen once more, Hermione carefully mapped out her second plan, examining the question thoughtfully. Dark magic and its appeal to wizards - discuss why wizards are drawn to the 'dark side.' It was best to start off with a clarification of what the question was actually asking her to do. Dark Magic, she thought, seems pretty plain enough to me - I should be able to find out a good definition in the dictionary downstairs in the Common room, when I need it...I presume that the term 'wizards' means both witches and wizards? But the 'dark side'... now that is a weighty term, isn't it?
Tapping her quill-pen on her chin, Hermione knew that no such term would be in any dictionary of Hogwarts, and sought to define it in her own words. Perhaps I could be brief... gloss over the finer points? No, Remus shall surely expect better of me, she grimaced, wrinkling her nose up and forcing herself to think. "The 'dark side' is a rather controversial term. It is also a rather relative one, often used when a witch or wizard comes to power in a violent way, most likely using one of the three 'Unforgivable' curses," she wrote, "and most often magic collectively termed as the 'Dark Arts'. This witch or wizard will often have a group of people who, more often that not, seek power and destroy lives, homes, families, etc. in highly destructive ways. In one way, the 'dark side' may simply be the minority group, doing what the majority of the population think is the wrong thing, and hence, form the evil or dark side." She wrote and copied definitions and transferred her ideas onto parchment until her introduction paragraph, coupled with the definitions, was about a foot long, as she had planned.
Hermione continued to work away, brainstorming and planning while watching the sun fade, and just as the moon began to rise she realised she would miss dinner if she did not get to the Great Hall soon.
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In the Great Hall was much laughter, food, drink, and chatter, but there was no Severus Snape, and, of all people, one Remus J. Lupin realised this and decided to act upon it. He had not seen Severus at dinner since the feast, five days ago, and supposed that the new weight of brewing enough potions to supply the hospital wing must be getting to him. However, he also felt it was important to eat and he wanted to make sure the man was staying alive, which would give him the opportunity to tell Severus he thought he had found a list of possible effects the Wolfsbane Potion might have had on Hermione, and various symptoms they could look out for.
Remus quitely excused himself and slipped out of the hall quickly, pushing ever so slightly on the door where he almost ran into Hermione as he was going out.
"Hello, Professor." She exclaimed, privately telling herself to stop running teachers over.
"Hello, Hermione. I was just going down to check Severus is still alive," Hermione raised her eyebrows at this, her face contorted to try to hide her interest, "which gives me the perfect opportunity to discuss my findings on the Wolfsbane Incident." His smile was friendly and he wasn't teasing her, but Hermione felt a pink tinge come to her cheeks at the mention of it.
"You found something about that?" She inquired.
"Yes, indeed I did. A list of possible effects, in fact, and their symptoms. I don't suppose you'd like to come down to Severus' dungeon, and I'll talk about them there?" Hermione hesitated, not wanting to seem too anxious she hoped her stomach wouldn't rumble and give her away, though her eyes kept up the charade, darting from the doors of the Great Hall to Professor Lupin, before commenting, "Well, if it would save you the trouble of repeating it one more time, why not?"
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Severus Snape had not realised the time until the house elves had simply brought his dinner to him. There was a very small pocket of time he was actually able to eat anyway, and so, Snape figured, there was no point in going to the Great Hall. He ate quickly before returning to his new batch of Wolfsbane, which would need to be stirred constantly for another hour before being covered up until the third quarter of the moon appeared in its exact half-circle. Clearly, he was not expecting a house call at this time of night.
"Severus." Remus called, rapping on the solid oak door to Severus' dungeon, where he was in the midst of meticulously preparing five different potions.
"Come in, come in." Snape muttered about inconveniences but refused to leave his cauldron - afterall, magicking the rod to stir the potion wasn't a good idea where Wolfsbane Potion was concerned, and if it were Dumbledore at the door (the oak meant he could not at first identify the voice of whoever was behind it straight away), it would give him an excuse to busy himself with something.
"It's locked, Severus." Damn. Blast. Oh well. He wasn't leaving his potion. Luckily, he had identified the person as Remus. Snape wondered what he was doing here, as it obviously wasn't time for his potion yet.
"Then unlock it. And watch what you do with that wand, Lupin, 'cause I'm stirring your Wolfsbane in here." Remus sighed, not having the faintest idea about how to get inside. He supposed it would be rather easy but-
"Leave it to me, Professor... I... er... I mean, Harry told me how to get into Snape's rooms. I mean-well... nevermind. Just stand aside, the spell's rather... interesting." Hermione reached into the corner of the door, grabbing a tiny glass key, traced the doorjamb with her wand, and began murmuring an incantation which was inaudible to anyone but her. She raised an eyebrow at a new component of the tricky spell Snape guarded his doors with, which was rather personal in its nature, but she passed and once the orange glow surrounding her faded, she slipped the key into the lock and opened the door, allowing Remus to walk in first, hovering about shadows, just a little nervous about the spell.
Snape waited for Remus to announce his business. Hermione stared around in wonder - she had seen his private stores before, but she needed to act surprised for appearances' sake, which did not turn out to be hard, for Severus seemed to have acquired quite a few more herbs and ingredients to stock his shelves. Her eyes turned to the Potions Master, admiring his skill and precise measurement as he poured Essence of Niffler into a cauldron on the far right, while still stirring the cauldron at the far left of the five. Hermione hadn't actually used Essence of Niffler before, but she knew quite a few all-heal potions would include such a substance, sometimes simply for the novelty of it.
"I had a look at a few of my books on Wolfsbane, Severus, and I think I may have found something useful." Hermione started for second, her eyes darting to see if either of her professors had noticed her staring, her cheeks gradually cooling down with the freezing air of the dungeon.
Grunt.
"I found a list of effects the potion may have had on Hermione... it's...quite a complex one, but I don't doubt you'll be able to read it. Each of the effects has some symptoms we should watch for, too."
Grunt.
"I would offer to check our subject for those symptoms at the present time, Severus, but I left my book in my office, and I seem to have dropped the list." Severus didn't seem to realise Hermione was here. Lupin was determined to shock him into realisation but, it seemed, that wasn't seeming to work.
"What book were you using?" Finally, a reply. Lupin gave a grin, taking out a slip of paper.
"Aconitum Male Gerere by Bilberus de Merisi." Hermione spotted what looked like four piles of books, slightly smaller than their usual size and, using her wand behind her back, she summoned the book Lupin had a copy of upstairs in his office, took off the shrinking charm, and handed over the book to Remus whose grin grew wider, as he began to ask Hermione whether or not she had experienced various listed symptoms, aware that Snape thought he was talking to himself.
"Now do tell me, Hermione, have you experienced any headaches since the incident, other than the one induced by being trampled by a great big slimeball otherwise known as Severus Sextus Snape?" It was like Sirius was the one doing the questioning - and although Hermione found it hilarious, she managed to keep a straight face, and pretended that Remus was imitating her responses, as, obviously, Snape wasn't going to take a hint.
"Other than Harry and Ron, no, Sir."
"Very good, Hermione." Severus hadn't even blinked at the use of his full name.
"My dear Hermione," Remus began, laying on the grandeur, "have you at all fainted, since that terrible incident involving slime, black and wolfsbane?"
"Not that I'm aware of, Sir."
"And do tell me, Hermione, have you at all been distracted from your schoolwork since that Dark and Stor- oh. You've been in the hospitable wing. Of course. Well then. Do tell me how your love life's going."
"My...what, sir?"
"Your love life. Says so right here."
"What love life, sir? I'm supposed to be in love with someone now? Is Sevvy not enough?"
"If you say so. Now, please, tell me, has your period stopped since you and Severus crashed?"
"I... Professor that's a little-"
"-suggestive," Snape finished for her, "So, Lupin, if you don't want your Wolfsbane ruined again you had better get out quickly. Thankyou for your - help."
"Bye, then, Severus." Remus made towards the door. "Bye, Hermione."
"Good night, Sir." Hermione answered in her imitation voice. Remus gave her a wink and motioned for her to stay here. Hermione's mouthed dropped open in protest, but Lupin simply whispered into her ear: Trust Me. If something goes wrong, I'll make the excuses. If something goes really wrong, you know where the door is. No one knew what was going through Lupin's head, but he left too quickly for her to follow.
This is definitely not a good idea, Hermione's brain told her, but her heart begged to differ, but it was Remus'... it can't hurt if I just look, he hasn't noticed me yet.
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