Disclaimer: All of the usual characters from 'Harry Potter' belong to J. K. Rowling, blah, blah, blah, everybody knows this already.
Summary: When Severus visits Italy with Hermione during the summer, he finds that the muggle way of life is a lot more interesting than he would've expected.
How Much You Never Knew
Chapter 2; Lemon drops
Hermione trudged up to Dumbledore's office, dreading every step. This summer was going to be very, very exasperating, and it wasn't only because she hated Snape. It was because he also hated her in return, regardless of what Professor McGonagall had said about it earlier. How had he reacted when discussing the situation with Dumbledore? Had he exploded? Had he stayed calm and accepting? Had he laughed with amusement?
Wait---the potions master did not laugh.
Hermione suspected that she was taking longer than strictly necessary to mosey up to Dumbledore's office.
Snape.
If he didn't hate her before, he was certain to hate her now. What was he thinking about all of this? She really hadn't seen him since her final potions lesson of the year which had ended the previous week. Not even at meals. He had most likely stayed in his office grading finals---which was said to be a deathly tedious process. If she could just get one glance at him, just one, she might at least be able to judge his reaction concerning the current matter. But no, he had avoided her until now, until this little 'meeting' Dumbledore had set up, and she was sure that she would be late arriving. This probably wouldn't gain her any respect in Snape's eyes.
She stopped in front of the large gargoyle that opened to Dumbledore's office. Her final thought of comfort before whispering the password "Lemon drops," was that even if Snape was ready to kill her once she entered, he couldn't because Dumbledore and McGonagall would be there to protect her. Surely they wouldn't allow any harm to come to her.
But then again, had it not been their idea to permit Snape's stay at the villa?
She gulped.
Snape sat in Dumbledore's office trying his best to restrain himself from pacing. Needless to say, he eventually failed. Albus and Minerva simply watched, exchanging glances of amusement every so often.
That Snape.
Not only was he always working, but always pacing as well. He could feel their curious eyes boring into his form, but pretended not to notice. If they wanted to stare like mindless gits, so be it.
Mindless was something Albus Dumbledore would never be. He had been studying Snape, not staring, and right now Severus looked like a caged lion. Dumbledore's train of thought was interrupted when a particular Gryffindor slipped into his office. She was late, yet on noticing her pallid face, he didn't inquire about it.
Hermione offered a quick curtsey and mumbled a greeting to the professors, before Dumbledore motioned for her to take a seat. "Tea, Hermione," he asked politely.
"No, thank you," she muttered. He didn't seem to realize her tardiness, and if he had, he wasn't remarking upon it. Either way, she wasn't about to bring it to his attention. Professor Snape, however, had most definitely realized, and was making it known as well. He did not treat it with the levity that Hermione had actually dared to hope he would.
"What were you trying for, Miss Granger?" He stepped toward her menacingly. "A fashionably late approach?" His sneer was nothing gorgeous, and she wanted to slap it off his face from the moment it appeared. Her eyes shot daggers at him. Professor or not, she had been through enough stress this week, and today was absolutely not a day to cross her path.
"Can I control that Professor Sprout held the entire class after to help clean up a rather exuberant party the mandrakes decided to throw during our lesson?" she spat. Not only was the unease of the awaiting summer provoking her. The time, being late May, meant that end-of-year exams would be lurking just a few short days away.
Normally, she would never have spoken to any professor at Hogwarts (even if it was Snape) with such a lack of formality.
"I wasn't asking for poor excuses Miss Granger," he said silkily, though obviously taken aback that she dared retort to his comment. Sensing the tension, Albus decided that now would be the perfect time to intervene.
"Silence you two! We are here to discuss imperative issues, not bicker," he stated firmly, and commandingly. Hermione stared at her feet in embarrassment, remembering their fragile disposition. Feeling that order had been restored, Dumbledore continued. "Why don't we start at the beginning. Hermione, have you owled your parents about our plans? Or until their approval, I guess I should call it our... ideas?"
"Yes Professor, and they said they'd be elated to assist you with your studies. I've informed my relatives, as well, who've also willingly given their concurrence. The tickets for the airfare should arrive any day now." Albus seemed happy enough about this, but Severus, however, wasn't convinced.
"Airfare?" he questioned, already having made up his mind that he didn't like this muggle way of traveling. If that's what it was.
"Yes, airfare," Minerva spoke up. A witch she no doubt was, but she had still been wise enough to keep up with the muggle world's current state, due to a need of understanding her muggle born students. "Its a common muggle way of traveling." Snape looked immensely annoyed.
"Minerva, I had figured that already. But how does it work?" He raised his eyebrow at her. Damn that eyebrow, she thought.
"Hermione, child, you might have to explain this one. I'm afraid my memory isn't as reliable as it used to be," she admitted. Severus grunted in accord, and Hermione couldn't resist glaring at him before she began her clarification.
"Well," she began, looking down at her hands, "If you travel by airfare, it means you will be riding in a plane. Now, a plane is like...," she stopped, and bit her lip. How would she depict this? "A plane is like a gigantic bird with several large rooms in its interior." Oh, that sounded fairly odd. A big bird? Surely there were other, more sophisticated way to describe such things as planes and jets. But then, she couldn't use the reference of a jet, because Snape undoubtedly didn't know what that was either. She stole a glance at him, only to find that his eyes exposed a cruel mocking towards her. The temperature in her face began to rise, and she fought hard to mask it. She would not be able to handle him for an entire summer if she became intimidated by the slightest aspect of disdain on his part. Nervously, she continued. "In the room, there are...many seats for the passengers and...over the seats there are compartments for smaller luggage. Always, of course, there are flight attendants to help the passengers too." Snape raised his eyebrow again, obviously not knowing what a flight attendant was either. Hermione suddenly realized that the muggle world would take a great deal more of illuminating than she had expected in the beginning of this arrangement. It was a horrifying thought at the moment, detecting that her emotions had begun to sway even more violently than they had at the start of this convention. How would she endeavor through this?
Three atrocious hours later, Hermione had finally escaped Dumbledore's office, and was on her way back to the sanctuary of her dorm. An unreadable expression was plastered to her face out of sheer boredom. During the remainder of that meeting, she had enlightened Professor Snape on absolutely everything necessary for him to be aware of before the two of them set off for Italy. Such things had included muggle forms of travel (obviously), along with its tight security, and also how to use muggle money. Thankfully she would be able explain her relative's customs and rules during the plane ride. Another minute in that office would have killed her.
They had decided that Snape would be able to wear his usual black robes, due to the fact that all of her relative's knew Hermione was a witch anyway. It wouldn't be entirely odd for them to have a wizard in the house as well, and there would be no use in trying to hide the fact.
Once inside her room, she collapsed onto her bed. This day could not possibly get any worse, but she knew… once school was out for the year, other days could, and---with Professor Snape---would.
She groaned.
Albus had remained in his office, conversing quietly with Minerva long after Severus had left to grade more finals. It was peculiar how one's perspective could change so quickly. Minerva was now positive that this muggle- studying project was the right decision.
"And when did you conclude that?" Albus had asked, already knowing she would've reached this solution at once point or another. Her eyes lit up with a rare twinkle, and she exclaimed excitedly,
"Albus, did you not see the way Hermione retorted back at him after his inquiry about her lateness? She acted as though she was not frightened at all by him, unlike the rest of the student body who seems to think he's a vampire, or something of that nature. Truthfully, I think she might be the one to bring him out of his self-imposed shell, and lighten him up a little. Or at least give him a friend of sorts. Oh, Albus, why didn't I see this before! I know very well that the primal point of this mission is to augment our knowledge concerning muggles and muggle borns, but this is like an added bonus! Don't you agree!"
Albus chuckled. "Oh yes, I do indeed." For another hour or so, they poured over how much better-off Severus could be after this experience, and Albus couldn't help but feel that this part of the mission was just as important, if not more, than studying the muggles themselves. He would simply be fascinated with Severus' progress, and certainly, how Hermione dealt with him.
Of course, Albus and Minerva could never tell the two of them about their little... yes, it could officially be called...a scheme.
Severus Snape once again sat in his library, not on his sofa, but in a large armchair that had been there even before he had. He had been reading to keep his mind off of...other matters, but found that he couldn't delay his process of thought any longer. How would he fair with a 16 year old girl and her silly ideas for three months? The miniscule interest he had with his female students consisted only of how their potions were coming, and ended once they walked out of his classroom. Now to have to live with one, with nothing to remind him of his authority over her as a professor--No, she might as well be his equal, and that was a terrible thought.
No potions, no Dumbledore, and no avoiding this mess. The only thing he would have as a reminder would be Tes, and what little that would do. So little that he didn't consider it. He stalked over to his bedroom, the need for sleep tugging at him, and just before he drifted off into it, he actually found some good in the situation. There were two things.
One, being that Voldemort had been destroyed, so there would be no need to worry about getting summoned, and two, he could be spending the summer with someone much worse. Like Miss Brown, or Miss Patil.
He shuddered.
