Disclaimer: I don't own Harry Potter, or any related characters or items. These belong to J.K Rowling.
A/N: Well. I don't intend to move very quickly, but I don't want to drag it on either. The entire fic will be in the course of Hermione's seventh year, and it just basically follows through Snape and her relationship during this time. Mind, the war against Voldermort is also a big issue in this fic. It's seventh year, and basically, the beginning of another Dark Age [as I like to call it =P].
WARNING: No spoilers as of yet, but there will be in future chapters.
This chapter drags the story a bit more than I would've liked, and it's short. But here goes…
***
"What first?"
Snape turned to the girl, but seemed to be staring at the painting behind her.
"What first Professor?" Hermione repeated.
"There's not enough room here for the set up. We'll work in my quarters."
"Your quarters?"
"Yes Miss Granger."
He strolled past her to the painting he had been looking at before. It was, Hermione reflected, a Renaissance piece.
"Muggle Art?" She asked incredulously.
Snape nodded. "Salazar," he said.
Hermione turned around, thinking someone else had stepped into the room. But Snape had been talking to the figure inside the artwork.
"Severus." It answered formally, before swinging its frame, revealing a door into Snape's living quarters.
"Wait." Snape turned around. "Miss Granger. You do realize how long the Potion will take to brew. And how much commitment this is."
"Yes. Six days, sir."
He glared at her for just a moment. "Come in, then."
He stepped swiftly through the door and motioned for Hermione to follow. Once inside, the portrait swung close, and on this side, it was just a wall. She looked around. The room was almost entirely black, except for a touch of the occasional green and silver. Such as the sink and the lamp-lights. Hermione raised her eyebrows and glimpsed a faint smile of Snape's lips. He looked rather amused.
"Surprised, Miss Granger?"
"Rather."
"Right. Well we'd better get started. The full moon is not going to wait for us."
*
"Pass the mortar and pestle."
Hermione did so, and sighed softly. The entire evening had been filled with tedious and mostly useless jobs such as these. Hermione had begun to have her doubts as to whether this idea of helping Snape had been a good one. Surely, her handing him random utensils wasn't going to turn the clock back by much, was it?
But then Hermione would become yet again entranced by the number of items she had never even seen before, let alone worked with. It was almost enough to say this was a kind of experience in itself. And then, there was the thought that Snape even trusted her to be around these ingredients, and that made her beam with pride. It almost made all these years of Potion-lesson torture worth it.
Almost.
"Simmer it. And slice these." Snape said, and gave her something that looked similar to the usual Dragon Heart-String, but lighter.
"What's this Professor?"
"An important ingredient. We need it sliced."
Hermione sighed again, something she was sure Snape had heard. He hadn't answered her question on purpose, and she could bet there wasn't a reason either. Hermione sliced it, and handing it to Snape.
"You can put it in, Miss Granger, in exactly four minutes. I already set the timer."
Snape left into his storeroom, and Hermione watched the timer click by. She wondered what Harry and Ron were doing at the moment, and realized it was most likely they were playing Quidditch, judging by the late sunsets. Not that you could tell in Snape's quarters. All light was artificial, and he had not even bothered with a charmed window.
Hermione was broken out of her thoughts by the soft tinkering of the alarm, and moved forward to put in well… whatever ingredient is was. Dropping it in, there was a sudden billow of red smoke from the cauldron that made Hermione step back in shock and put her hand to her eyes. She felt an arm steadying her from behind and promptly jumped.
"Sorry Miss Granger. I forgot to tell you that would happen."
Hermione rubbed her watering eyes, not the least happy. "I suppose you thought I would have known, when you didn't even tell me what the ingredient was." She snapped.
"I repeat: I am sorry. And the ingredient was a Dragon Vein."
Hermione nodded, accepting the apology, but didn't say anything.
The night's work finished early, and Hermione promised the Potion's Professor she would be back the next evening, a comment he had waved away with his hand like she was an annoying insect. This might've served to annoy Hermione even more, but just made her wonder what she had hoped to achieve in the first place.
*
"Longbottom. You potion is the wrong colour. Again."
Neville shuddered, but barely, as Snape approached his table. The students had been working individually, on individual desks, and Neville had no one to stand up for him. Not that he really needed it.
"I think it was the roots, sir."
"You only think? Of course it was. And you have ten minutes to clean this mess up."
Neville nodded shakily, though the fear in his face was gone, Hermione noted with satisfaction. Then she noticed the fleeting expression of what could've been respect on Snape's face, and it looked at him curiously.
Snape stalked back to his desk, in front of the recently repaired window. For a moment he glared at it, and it made him desperately wish to be back in the depths of the dungeons again.
"So can anyone tell me why Longbottom's roots, if correctly made and added at the moment he did – which was two minutes before the instructions given – could've caused such an influence?"
Hermione's hand was up before his last word, but even she looked bored at what she knew would happen next.
"Anyone else." Snape almost rolled his eyes.
A few students in the front row looked thoughtful, but none moved to answer the question. Hermione's arm was still in the air. Good God, Snape wondered, did that girl ever give up?
"Miss Granger. Would you please lower your hand!" Snape used as much malice in those words as he remembered using for James Potter, but Hermione only looked slightly surprised. But then again, those words really weren't that offending.
But when no one did move to even try responding to his question, Snape sighed: "Miss Granger?"
"Because the roots would've reacted too intensely with the previous ingredient, the heart-string, and would've caused the Sleeping Drought to render a person unconscious instead."
"Correct. Five points."
Snape sighed again and looked up at the clock. Ten minutes. He didn't have to put up with another ten minutes did he? He didn't want to.
"Class dismissed. Hand all Potions to be marked up front."
There was a scramble of students, flasks and bags before the room was empty.
***
Was it pointless? A little, I guess. Please review!
_ This is my first Snape/Hermione story, so all help is welcome. I don't have a BETA, so I don't really mind if you correct my grammar, spelling etc. But I can't promise to change a chapter because of a tiny detail._
Goddessnmb1 : I changed the letter [still dangerous looking though =P], and with the window in the dungeons: that was just a stupid mistake. I've added something as to say they weren't really in the normal Potion's classroom, because Snape being blown out a window is too priceless to delete. _ Thanks for reviewing.
_Also thanks to: _ mary:), hawaii5063, stargurl, Quietus Mal Foi, Jules, Persophone Blackblood-Snape, Matraiea, jasmine, sev's lover (mind you, he's mine), Black McKay, MxS Rose, Elven Warrior, Aeryn Alexander, Mel, Talon DragonFriend, LovinEggRoll (cute nickname!) Bayer04rulz, Tracy Claybon.
