Chapter Thirteen
Ailie smiled at what Mr. Granger was saying. Though Hermione had talked about a growing distance between herself and her parents, Ailie could see that the Grangers still loved their daughter dearly. Why else would they bravely put up with a magical castle that had moving stairs that so obviously terrified them, oddly dressed people that they had trouble understanding sometimes, and a system of travel that made them feel ill for hours afterward?
This Christmas, though so different to the ones she was used to, was going wonderfully. The Grangers had been due to arrive mid-morning, and the group of friends had gone down to the entranceway straight after breakfast to await them. When the coach had trundled up and the pale-faced Grangers ushered out of it, the three other visitors had left Hermione to minister to her parents' queasiness (easily solved with a potion, Mum) and let them spend some time together. To pass the time, the three of them had gone for a walk.
'I'm worried about Hermione, Ailie,' Harry had said as they wandered over the grounds. Sirius, feeling the need to expend some pent-up energy, had transfigured to his animagus state and was currently romping about in the snow.
Ailie had given Harry a curious look, which had prompted the boy to continue.
'She's just not herself lately. Last night, I wondered if there was something wrong, but this morning I know there must be. Hermione only ever gets that preoccupied when there's something serious on her mind. Do you have any ideas?'
Ailie shook her head slowly. 'Not... really, Harry. Hermione's just, well, just sorting some things out right now. I'd talk to her if you really are concerned.'
Harry nodded. 'I thought so. It's just,' he added with a frown, 'sometimes Hermione gets into these moods and she won't tell me things. I wanted to make sure she's okay.'
'She is, Harry,' Ailie replied with a smile. 'Really. She's just trying to figure out some things. She's really okay.'
'Good.' Harry nodded.
Soon, with Sirius back in human form, the three of them were heading back toward Hermione's rooms, and the six of them sat down for some relaxing conversation before dinner.
Ailie nodded again, and smiled. Though Hermione said her parents were boring, Ailie found it fascinating to talk with this 'dentist'. Tooth problems were solved in her coven by the Healer and several private rituals, and Ailie was fascinated by this muggle method of repairing teeth.
'So you really make a fake tooth?' she asked, making the older man laugh.
'You sound like Mr. Dumbledore. He asked the exact same thing when I first met him.'
Ailie smiled, and looked around the room. It certainly was a cosy picture. Hermione, Harry and Sirius were chatting to Mrs. Granger across the room, and the day seemed to just be rolling along. Ailie had asked Hermione if her parents were likely to enjoy the solstice ritual to be performed that afternoon, but at Hermione's dissent, had stuck to the idea of performing it by herself. It would have less effect if non-Wiccans were to join in, anyway.
Dinner was an informal but happy affair. Sitting with the happy group, Ailie was reminded of times when she had feasted with her own family on such days. The sadness for her parents was with her as an unceasing ache in her stomach, carried around with her every day. Being able to talk the day before had helped, but there was really no remedy. Ailie simply didn't know what to do to make the pain go away- but perhaps performing the familiar ritual would at least make it feel as though they were close.
After the meal was over, Ailie excused herself, and walked down the quiet halls toward a small side door she had found in her travels. The castle was unusually quiet, and Ailie supposed that the rest of the inhabitants were still at their luncheon.
Strolling, clearing her mind for the ritual, Ailie breathed in the crisp air. The snow clung to her skirt, but she smiled. All weather was good weather to a Wiccan.
When she reached a suitably high and clear spot, she searched around for the instruments she'd need. Wiccan rituals, unlike wizard magic, used only what the earth supplied, and all this process required was a handful of earth and a dead twig.
Her searching hands finally grasped a twig hidden beneath the snow, and she smiled. All was good.
Turning to face the sun, she began speaking in her own language, the language of her coven. These words are sacred words, she said. These songs are sacred songs. Mother earth, replenish us. Bring us back to life once more. Breathing in the dormant life of the earth around her, Ailie brought one hand to her lips and blew over the handful of dirt. With her other hand, she brought the twig together with the dirt, her eyes carefully watching for the first sign of life.
When nothing happened, she tried again, again breathing in and blowing over the earth, again waiting. Again nothing. A spear of pain shot through her chest, making her gasp. Desperately, she tried again, with the same lack of results. Tears filled her eyes, her breath coming in sobs.
'Please work,' she whispered to the barren earth, but it did not listen.
Suddenly, Ailie felt a touch at her shoulder, and jumped. Dumbledore smiled at her, a harmless old man out in the snow for a walk.
'May I help?' he asked.
Ailie began to shake her head in the negative, but changed her mind. It could not hurt, and Sirius had said that the people of Hogwarts were her coven now...
Nodding her head, she held her hand up, showing the old wizard the dirt.
'You have to-' she began, but was cut off as Dumbledore began to say the sacred words. Her eyes wide, Ailie added her voice to his. Dumbledore brought his hand together with hers, adding to the power of the ritual. When the time was right, both breathed over the earth and the twig.
Ailie watched. Her breath caught in her throat as the first telltale glow showed in the handful of earth. Slowly, she felt her other hand being tugged toward it as the twig was drawn to its natural place in the earth. She let it go, and tendrils of green wrapped themselves over the twig as it buried itself in her hand. Before her eyes, a small tree sprouted, shooting forth new leaves into the world.
Ailie planted the new little tree in the hole from whence she had gathered the soil, and stood back. In the next few days, the tree would grow, to be ready to bear its bounty by spring.
She turned to Dumbledore, her eyes brimming.
'Thank you,' she whispered. The old wizard smiled, and for a moment his eyes glowed. Ailie was taken aback by the power she saw there. Then his arms opened, and he wrapped her in a hug.
'Your coven is wherever you are, my child,' he said. Ailie nodded.
She sniffed, and pulled back. Wiping a few escapee tears from her cheeks, she took the old man's proffered arm feeling something that she thought she never would again- pure joy.
On her way back to Hermione's rooms, after a cup of tea with the Headmaster, Ailie's path was blocked by a very tangible amount of Snape.
'Yes?' she asked, fixing him with a gleeful gaze. Earth rituals always put her on a high, and in the rush of the afternoon she had forgotten to revel in Snape's frustration. It was not coming back to her, however.
'You. My office. Now,' he said, turning and beginning to stalk down the hall.
'Are you sure you don't want me to get Hermione?' she asked, laughter bubbling over. Snape stopped, and fixed her with a stare that would kill a rabbit, but it failed to impress her. Ailie just laughed all the more merrily.
Snape snapped his fingers, and Ailie felt herself propelled forward, her feet sliding over the floor, bringing her face to face with Snape.
'My office. Now,' he again said, his voice dangerously low. Ailie shrugged, though inwardly a little fearful. Snape was certainly angry, she could sense that; she could also sense that he was doing his best to control it. Interesting.
Ailie followed the angry man down to the dungeons, slipping into a seat in front of his desk when he ushered her inside his office.
Snape strode over to his desk, his expression cloudy. Leaning against the wall behind his desk, with his arms crossed, he stared at Ailie with a raised eyebrow, content to let the silence between them stretch taut.
Ailie shifted uncomfortably. She knew what he was doing, but it didn't make his silent stare any less intimidating. Frustrated, she cleared her throat.
'So, what do you want, Snape?' she asked.
He glared at her. 'Explain.'
Ailie rolled her eyes. 'Explain what?'
Snape tilted his head, his expression sarcastic. 'I think you know. What I would like to know is your reason for behaving in such a childish and potentially dangerous manner.'
'I don't know what you're talking about.'
Snape sneered. 'Don't attempt to deny it. I know. You told me yourself.'
Ailie's eyebrows raised. 'Then you should know why.'
'Some scheme of revenge, no doubt,' Snape said in a dry voice. 'A prank. After our talks of yesterday I would have supposed you intelligent enough to grasp the difficulties of our mutual situation. In fact, I do seem to remember an agreement to, and I quote, 'leave each other alone.'' Snape stared at her silently, and again Ailie felt the need to break the tension. Besides, her conscience pricked her. He did have a point in bringing up their apparent truce.
'Well, I couldn't very well put it off,' she said. 'We'd been planning it for weeks-'
Snape cut her off. "We?" he asked, his tone suspicious. 'Who?' Ailie clamped her mouth shut. There was no way she was going to tattle on Hermione- who knew what Snape would do to her. Snape's expression became contemplative, and a sudden flash of perception appeared in his eyes. 'Ah,' he said, his expression knowingly evil. 'Miss Hermione Granger. She had a hand in this too, did she?' He narrowed his eyes, and began to stalk about the room. 'Of course. She has the knowledge to research dream potions. She would be intelligent enough to administer it without my knowledge. She was always the brains of the Potter/Weasley outfit, I know.' Ailie stared at him in wonder. Was that a touch of admiration in his voice? Snape whipped around, staring at her. He raised an eyebrow.
'Do not think that you will get off this lightly,' he said. 'Administering a potentially harmful potion to someone without their permission is a serious matter, and one, I think, that Albus Dumbledore would not be particularly pleased about; to hear that a guest of his, taking advantage of his hospitality to poison a member of his staff.'
Ailie paled. After her conversation with the old wizard this afternoon, she was far from wanting to appear ungrateful. Besides, being unfamiliar with wizard law, she didn't know exactly how far beyond the boundaries she and Hermione had gone. The last thing she needed was to be hauled off to Azkaban.
'I believe we can come to some sort of arrangement,' Snape said, his voice thoughtful. He sat down at his desk and looked at her over his steepled fingers. 'I am without an assistant, and need some help in reorganising my stores for the new term. From tomorrow, until I feel you have made amends, you will report to me every day and assist me in my duties. Your tasks will not be too taxing, I am sure,' he added with a mirthless smile. 'Simply cataloguing stores, cleaning cauldrons and scrubbing desks. Occasionally, I may ask you to assist me in my own potions experiments.' He took a breath and sat back, looking at her with hooded eyes. 'If you agree to this, I feel there will be no need to go to Dumbledore about your's and Miss Granger's own... experiments.'
Ailie glared at him. In return for his silence, he was expecting her to become his slave. 'And Hermione?'
A grim smile plastered itself across Snape's face. 'Oh, I wouldn't worry about her if I were you,' he said. 'Miss Granger will find out in due course the consequences of playing about with potions.'
Ailie suppressed a shudder, suddenly piteous of Hermione. She thought of her own punishment with greater relish than living in expectation of this dark wizard's revenge.
She nodded. 'Okay, I accept. But you have to promise not to be too tough on Hermione. After all, it was my fault.'
Snape gave a short laugh. 'Miss Granger is well aware that there are repercussions for acting like a child. She had her part in this, and she knows me better than to expect to escape punishment.'
Ailie couldn't prevent the grin that suddenly spread across her face. Snape glared at her, and she knew she was risking exacerbating his anger, but she couldn't resist a tease.
'Oh, yeah, she knows about you and punishment all right,' she said, before breaking into laughter.
For a second, Snape looked as though he was about to explode with anger, but his expression gradually calmed to resignation.
'I do not suppose that there is any hope that you are referring to something other than the... events of last night?' he asked, in a resigned voice.
Ailie laughed harder, but tried to calm herself. 'Not if you mean having Hermione-' She giggled again, set off by the thought of Snape's discomfort.
Snape held up a hand. 'No.' He rubbed his forehead, and muttered, 'Curse it all.'
Ailie took a few deep breaths, calming down. 'Look, it wasn't exactly my idea of a good time, either. I mean, I knew that I'd hear something of it, but really...' she made a face. 'Anyway, I guess I asked for it. I knew you'd dream about Hermione, but I didn't think it'd be so-'
Snape again cut her off. 'You knew what about Miss Granger?'
Ailie rolled her eyes. 'Come on. You've been lusting after her for months, I bet. Certainly since I arrived.'
Snape's face paled. 'You,' he said coldly, 'are mistaken.'
'Hell, no, I'm not,' Ailie said, smiling. 'And for you to be still be resisting it this morning speaks for your amazing self-denial capabilities.' Feeling the conversation was over, she rose. 'I suppose I will see you later, Snapey-poos,' she added, as she walked toward the door. Snape, a contemplative expression on his face, paid her no attention.
***
As the door closed behind Ailie, Snape once again cursed the day that his blood had mingled with hers. With her around, there was not even a hope that he could imagine his privacy intact. She seemed bent on reminding him that she was aware of his every thought.
The idea that she had witnessed that dream... the only consolation was that even she was unlikely to relate its details to anyone else. Surely he had put enough fear into her to prevent it, even if she lacked the decency to keep such a private event to herself.
The mere thought of it... If Hermione Granger ever happened to find this out, Snape had to admit he would be fairly well mortified. Her status as a colleague and ex-student of his aside, the idea that he could lust after someone he had first met as an eleven-year-old child completely ignored, the situation would still be horrifying for the girl. Little as he liked to acknowledge it even to himself, Snape feared what such a pretty young woman would think of him. Oh, he knew she hated him, that was plain. He rarely ran into any other type of person, and his indifference to such attitudes was firmly in place. He knew that her experiences as a student had firmly placed him as 'enemy' in her mind, and he had no regrets. The famous threesome of Gryffindors had been intolerable in their lack of respect for school rules and regulations, and had deserved more than what they had received in way of punishment.
But while Hermione, perhaps understandably, would hold on to an image of a hated teacher, Snape was capable of accepting that children grow. It was a conclusion impossible not to come to for a teacher; the children in his care grew under his gaze, changing and developing into adults. He may not have liked all of them, but he did notice.
Hermione Granger was, now, a grown woman, and he was able to appreciate the change from the know-it-all child that had haunted his classrooms, nagged him for better grades on his assignments and, yes, broken into his stores several times for forbidden ingredients for her various experiments. She was still a know-it-all, she was still annoying, and she still had a tendency to value her own doubtful judgement and disrespect his, but Snape was willing to admit she had developed some admirable qualities. Some intelligence, though not always used to its full capacity. Skill at potions; his current discomfort was testament to that. An enquiring mind, which was always an asset to be valued, especially when it led to the results that Hermione usually produced. A tendency, of late, to stand up to him when threatened, admirable only because it was so rarely he came across an equal in debate. Yes, there were some aspects of her personality he valued, though they did not quite make up for the aspects that grated on his nerves.
Snape sighed, and leant his head in his hands. This situation was ridiculous. He did not know why Hermione Granger had been in his dream last night, but he could not stop thinking about her. He had to figure out exactly what potion the girl had used; perhaps that would provide some answers. Surely she had not purposely made a potion that would force him to dream about her; she hated him, after all, and for some reason Snape felt she would be too sexually innocent to want such a thing. The thought of the dream-Hermione returned to him, controlling and alluring, torturing him with his need for her. Snape clenched his teeth. If Hermione had, indeed, designed the potion with knowledge of its effect, and given it to him in the hope of torturing him, she could not have designed better. He despised the fact that he was constantly weak with desire.
He thought back to the previous evening. Hermione had ignored him on the most part, content to chat with her friends and one or two other teachers. Her behaviour had been similar this morning; apart from that one moment, she had not spared so much as a glance in his direction. Such behaviour, Snape felt, did not indicate an intent to tease him sexually. He was certain that such an effect had not been her intention in making the potion.
Snape leaned back in his chair, deep in thought. He did not quite know how Hermione Granger would be punished, but punish her he would. Though the girl had seemed to find her voice lately, she had to learn that he was as nasty as ever, when provoked.
***
Hermione waved her parents off, and watched the coach all the way to the gate. The day, as far as they were concerned, had been a success. She was glad she had had the idea of holding Christmas at Hogwarts. It had brought her parents closer to her life, and she hoped they now felt a part of it.
She walked back to her rooms, deep in thought. It had been an interesting day. Ailie had returned just before the Grangers had been due to leave, and Hermione was glad that they had a little more time to get to know each other. Her father had particularly taken a shine to Ailie, and for that Hermione was especially glad. Ailie had tried to tell her something about Snape when she came back, but Hermione had been too busy to really pay attention. Now, she wondered what it had been, but Ailie had again disappeared, presumably out walking with Harry before he and Sirius left this evening.
The mention had brought a certain topic back to her mind, however. She'd never really thought about it before, but when it came to men, her experience was zero. She'd never had the chance. And being around Ailie made her feel even more of a baby.
Hermione got up and paced restlessly. She knew that having Severus Snape dream about her was something she should be disgusted by. If Harry or Ron ever found out, they'd be horrified for her. Still, she couldn't help wondering certain things; what did he think about her? Did he really find her attractive? What, exactly, had happened in the dream? What had she done to him? What had he done to her? Hermione may have been inexperienced, but she knew the theory of sex, and she was itchingly curious about this man that had pictured her in such a way.
She wondered if she would ever know these things. It was unlikely that her sexual experience would be expanded at Hogwarts. She giggled at the thought of kissing any of the male teachers- it was simply ridiculous. Most of them still treated her like a girl, with the exception of Snape. He, at least, treated her as a woman, and that had been before the potion. She still doubted that he could really be attracted to her, though; even if he was, the Snape she knew would never act on it. So her life at Hogwarts would be just as innocent as it had always been.
Hermione almost despaired. Would she always be such a child? It wasn't that she wanted to go out and bed the first man she saw, but not having even kissed a man before her twentieth birthday- that was ridiculous.
Hermione ceased her pacing when she heard a knock at the door. Opening it to find Sirius, preparing his goodbyes, she suddenly struck upon a solution to her problem.
'Sirius,' she said determinedly. 'I want you to kiss me.'
Sirius contemplated her for a moment. At least, Hermione thought, he wasn't dim witted and likely to misunderstand her wishes. She watched as one eyebrow raised.
'And what exactly has brought this on?'
'Does it matter?' she asked, resuming her earlier pacing. 'Sirius, my twentieth birthday is in four months and I have yet to be kissed by a man. Do you know when my last kiss was?' She turned on him, but noticing the sparkle in his eye, she decided not to elucidate. 'Well, that's beside the point. I'm nineteen, and don't know what it's like to even feel a beard against my face!'
'It's itchy,' Sirius said, rubbing his own beard. He caught Hermione's grim look and ceased his teasing. 'Look, Hermione, I'm not sure this is a good idea-'
'I'm not asking you to marry me!' Hermione yelled, throwing her hands up in frustration. 'All I want is for a grown man to kiss me. I thought you fit the bill. Unless,' she said, looking at him uncertainly, 'you couldn't bear to- I mean, you would probably have trouble kissing such a stupid girl- '
Sirius shook his head at her, and walked closer. 'Darling, no grown man could possibly have trouble wanting to kiss you.' With that informal agreement, he placed one hand under her chin and brought his face down to hers.
Hermione closed her eyes as his lips met hers. Cautiously, she raised a hand and placed it on his chest, feeling the thudding of his heart beneath her palm. She could feel the bristles of his beard tickling her face, could feel the warmth of his body so close to hers. After a brief but evocative kiss, Sirius raised his face from hers and looked down at her.
'Better?' he asked.
Dumbfounded, Hermione nodded. Slowly, she smiled. 'Thank you, Sirius,' she said.
Sirius smiled warmly down at her. 'Don't think about it. It was an honour to be the first man to taste those gorgeous lips of yours.'
The two stood in silent contemplation for a while, but moved apart when Harry unceremoniously stamped through the door.
The boy took in the close proximity of his two friends and, being relatively preceptive, blushed. 'Oh, sorry!' he said, turning to go again.
'Never mind, Harry,' Sirius called, walking forward to stop him. 'I was just saying goodbye to Hermione. I'll meet you in the entrance hall.'
A slightly awkward silence sprung up between the two friends as Sirius left, and Hermione was the first to take the situation into hand.
'Have a seat, Harry,' she said, moving toward the couch.
Harry sat, and contemplated her with a frown. 'What's going on, 'Mione?'
Hermione took a deep breath, and began to tell Harry about how she had been feeling since she returned to Hogwarts, leaving out nothing but Ailie's true identity, and certain events concerning Snape. She talked, though a little embarrassed, about her feelings over the past few days, her worries. Harry was looking at her with concern when she finished, and Hermione was feeling more than a little silly.
'Hermione, why didn't you tell me about this before? You know I would have...' He trailed off. 'Well, I would have been here for you, at least.'
Hermione smiled. 'I know you would. I just- I needed something else.' She looked down. 'I guess you don't understand.'
Harry sat silently for a moment, then Hermione felt his hand on her arm. 'I'm sorry, Hermione. You've always been beautiful to me,' he said.
Hermione looked up at him, a warm smile spreading across her face. 'Thanks, Harry.' She stood up and gave him a hug, this child-friend who had somehow grown up into a sensitive and caring man.
'You're not... you're not going to get together with Sirius, are you?' Harry asked.
Hermione laughed. 'No!'
Harry pulled back, and nodded. 'Good. That would just be too weird.'
Hermione walked with him to the door, her mind back on Severus Snape. She was glad Harry didn't know quite how weird the situation was.
Ailie smiled at what Mr. Granger was saying. Though Hermione had talked about a growing distance between herself and her parents, Ailie could see that the Grangers still loved their daughter dearly. Why else would they bravely put up with a magical castle that had moving stairs that so obviously terrified them, oddly dressed people that they had trouble understanding sometimes, and a system of travel that made them feel ill for hours afterward?
This Christmas, though so different to the ones she was used to, was going wonderfully. The Grangers had been due to arrive mid-morning, and the group of friends had gone down to the entranceway straight after breakfast to await them. When the coach had trundled up and the pale-faced Grangers ushered out of it, the three other visitors had left Hermione to minister to her parents' queasiness (easily solved with a potion, Mum) and let them spend some time together. To pass the time, the three of them had gone for a walk.
'I'm worried about Hermione, Ailie,' Harry had said as they wandered over the grounds. Sirius, feeling the need to expend some pent-up energy, had transfigured to his animagus state and was currently romping about in the snow.
Ailie had given Harry a curious look, which had prompted the boy to continue.
'She's just not herself lately. Last night, I wondered if there was something wrong, but this morning I know there must be. Hermione only ever gets that preoccupied when there's something serious on her mind. Do you have any ideas?'
Ailie shook her head slowly. 'Not... really, Harry. Hermione's just, well, just sorting some things out right now. I'd talk to her if you really are concerned.'
Harry nodded. 'I thought so. It's just,' he added with a frown, 'sometimes Hermione gets into these moods and she won't tell me things. I wanted to make sure she's okay.'
'She is, Harry,' Ailie replied with a smile. 'Really. She's just trying to figure out some things. She's really okay.'
'Good.' Harry nodded.
Soon, with Sirius back in human form, the three of them were heading back toward Hermione's rooms, and the six of them sat down for some relaxing conversation before dinner.
Ailie nodded again, and smiled. Though Hermione said her parents were boring, Ailie found it fascinating to talk with this 'dentist'. Tooth problems were solved in her coven by the Healer and several private rituals, and Ailie was fascinated by this muggle method of repairing teeth.
'So you really make a fake tooth?' she asked, making the older man laugh.
'You sound like Mr. Dumbledore. He asked the exact same thing when I first met him.'
Ailie smiled, and looked around the room. It certainly was a cosy picture. Hermione, Harry and Sirius were chatting to Mrs. Granger across the room, and the day seemed to just be rolling along. Ailie had asked Hermione if her parents were likely to enjoy the solstice ritual to be performed that afternoon, but at Hermione's dissent, had stuck to the idea of performing it by herself. It would have less effect if non-Wiccans were to join in, anyway.
Dinner was an informal but happy affair. Sitting with the happy group, Ailie was reminded of times when she had feasted with her own family on such days. The sadness for her parents was with her as an unceasing ache in her stomach, carried around with her every day. Being able to talk the day before had helped, but there was really no remedy. Ailie simply didn't know what to do to make the pain go away- but perhaps performing the familiar ritual would at least make it feel as though they were close.
After the meal was over, Ailie excused herself, and walked down the quiet halls toward a small side door she had found in her travels. The castle was unusually quiet, and Ailie supposed that the rest of the inhabitants were still at their luncheon.
Strolling, clearing her mind for the ritual, Ailie breathed in the crisp air. The snow clung to her skirt, but she smiled. All weather was good weather to a Wiccan.
When she reached a suitably high and clear spot, she searched around for the instruments she'd need. Wiccan rituals, unlike wizard magic, used only what the earth supplied, and all this process required was a handful of earth and a dead twig.
Her searching hands finally grasped a twig hidden beneath the snow, and she smiled. All was good.
Turning to face the sun, she began speaking in her own language, the language of her coven. These words are sacred words, she said. These songs are sacred songs. Mother earth, replenish us. Bring us back to life once more. Breathing in the dormant life of the earth around her, Ailie brought one hand to her lips and blew over the handful of dirt. With her other hand, she brought the twig together with the dirt, her eyes carefully watching for the first sign of life.
When nothing happened, she tried again, again breathing in and blowing over the earth, again waiting. Again nothing. A spear of pain shot through her chest, making her gasp. Desperately, she tried again, with the same lack of results. Tears filled her eyes, her breath coming in sobs.
'Please work,' she whispered to the barren earth, but it did not listen.
Suddenly, Ailie felt a touch at her shoulder, and jumped. Dumbledore smiled at her, a harmless old man out in the snow for a walk.
'May I help?' he asked.
Ailie began to shake her head in the negative, but changed her mind. It could not hurt, and Sirius had said that the people of Hogwarts were her coven now...
Nodding her head, she held her hand up, showing the old wizard the dirt.
'You have to-' she began, but was cut off as Dumbledore began to say the sacred words. Her eyes wide, Ailie added her voice to his. Dumbledore brought his hand together with hers, adding to the power of the ritual. When the time was right, both breathed over the earth and the twig.
Ailie watched. Her breath caught in her throat as the first telltale glow showed in the handful of earth. Slowly, she felt her other hand being tugged toward it as the twig was drawn to its natural place in the earth. She let it go, and tendrils of green wrapped themselves over the twig as it buried itself in her hand. Before her eyes, a small tree sprouted, shooting forth new leaves into the world.
Ailie planted the new little tree in the hole from whence she had gathered the soil, and stood back. In the next few days, the tree would grow, to be ready to bear its bounty by spring.
She turned to Dumbledore, her eyes brimming.
'Thank you,' she whispered. The old wizard smiled, and for a moment his eyes glowed. Ailie was taken aback by the power she saw there. Then his arms opened, and he wrapped her in a hug.
'Your coven is wherever you are, my child,' he said. Ailie nodded.
She sniffed, and pulled back. Wiping a few escapee tears from her cheeks, she took the old man's proffered arm feeling something that she thought she never would again- pure joy.
On her way back to Hermione's rooms, after a cup of tea with the Headmaster, Ailie's path was blocked by a very tangible amount of Snape.
'Yes?' she asked, fixing him with a gleeful gaze. Earth rituals always put her on a high, and in the rush of the afternoon she had forgotten to revel in Snape's frustration. It was not coming back to her, however.
'You. My office. Now,' he said, turning and beginning to stalk down the hall.
'Are you sure you don't want me to get Hermione?' she asked, laughter bubbling over. Snape stopped, and fixed her with a stare that would kill a rabbit, but it failed to impress her. Ailie just laughed all the more merrily.
Snape snapped his fingers, and Ailie felt herself propelled forward, her feet sliding over the floor, bringing her face to face with Snape.
'My office. Now,' he again said, his voice dangerously low. Ailie shrugged, though inwardly a little fearful. Snape was certainly angry, she could sense that; she could also sense that he was doing his best to control it. Interesting.
Ailie followed the angry man down to the dungeons, slipping into a seat in front of his desk when he ushered her inside his office.
Snape strode over to his desk, his expression cloudy. Leaning against the wall behind his desk, with his arms crossed, he stared at Ailie with a raised eyebrow, content to let the silence between them stretch taut.
Ailie shifted uncomfortably. She knew what he was doing, but it didn't make his silent stare any less intimidating. Frustrated, she cleared her throat.
'So, what do you want, Snape?' she asked.
He glared at her. 'Explain.'
Ailie rolled her eyes. 'Explain what?'
Snape tilted his head, his expression sarcastic. 'I think you know. What I would like to know is your reason for behaving in such a childish and potentially dangerous manner.'
'I don't know what you're talking about.'
Snape sneered. 'Don't attempt to deny it. I know. You told me yourself.'
Ailie's eyebrows raised. 'Then you should know why.'
'Some scheme of revenge, no doubt,' Snape said in a dry voice. 'A prank. After our talks of yesterday I would have supposed you intelligent enough to grasp the difficulties of our mutual situation. In fact, I do seem to remember an agreement to, and I quote, 'leave each other alone.'' Snape stared at her silently, and again Ailie felt the need to break the tension. Besides, her conscience pricked her. He did have a point in bringing up their apparent truce.
'Well, I couldn't very well put it off,' she said. 'We'd been planning it for weeks-'
Snape cut her off. "We?" he asked, his tone suspicious. 'Who?' Ailie clamped her mouth shut. There was no way she was going to tattle on Hermione- who knew what Snape would do to her. Snape's expression became contemplative, and a sudden flash of perception appeared in his eyes. 'Ah,' he said, his expression knowingly evil. 'Miss Hermione Granger. She had a hand in this too, did she?' He narrowed his eyes, and began to stalk about the room. 'Of course. She has the knowledge to research dream potions. She would be intelligent enough to administer it without my knowledge. She was always the brains of the Potter/Weasley outfit, I know.' Ailie stared at him in wonder. Was that a touch of admiration in his voice? Snape whipped around, staring at her. He raised an eyebrow.
'Do not think that you will get off this lightly,' he said. 'Administering a potentially harmful potion to someone without their permission is a serious matter, and one, I think, that Albus Dumbledore would not be particularly pleased about; to hear that a guest of his, taking advantage of his hospitality to poison a member of his staff.'
Ailie paled. After her conversation with the old wizard this afternoon, she was far from wanting to appear ungrateful. Besides, being unfamiliar with wizard law, she didn't know exactly how far beyond the boundaries she and Hermione had gone. The last thing she needed was to be hauled off to Azkaban.
'I believe we can come to some sort of arrangement,' Snape said, his voice thoughtful. He sat down at his desk and looked at her over his steepled fingers. 'I am without an assistant, and need some help in reorganising my stores for the new term. From tomorrow, until I feel you have made amends, you will report to me every day and assist me in my duties. Your tasks will not be too taxing, I am sure,' he added with a mirthless smile. 'Simply cataloguing stores, cleaning cauldrons and scrubbing desks. Occasionally, I may ask you to assist me in my own potions experiments.' He took a breath and sat back, looking at her with hooded eyes. 'If you agree to this, I feel there will be no need to go to Dumbledore about your's and Miss Granger's own... experiments.'
Ailie glared at him. In return for his silence, he was expecting her to become his slave. 'And Hermione?'
A grim smile plastered itself across Snape's face. 'Oh, I wouldn't worry about her if I were you,' he said. 'Miss Granger will find out in due course the consequences of playing about with potions.'
Ailie suppressed a shudder, suddenly piteous of Hermione. She thought of her own punishment with greater relish than living in expectation of this dark wizard's revenge.
She nodded. 'Okay, I accept. But you have to promise not to be too tough on Hermione. After all, it was my fault.'
Snape gave a short laugh. 'Miss Granger is well aware that there are repercussions for acting like a child. She had her part in this, and she knows me better than to expect to escape punishment.'
Ailie couldn't prevent the grin that suddenly spread across her face. Snape glared at her, and she knew she was risking exacerbating his anger, but she couldn't resist a tease.
'Oh, yeah, she knows about you and punishment all right,' she said, before breaking into laughter.
For a second, Snape looked as though he was about to explode with anger, but his expression gradually calmed to resignation.
'I do not suppose that there is any hope that you are referring to something other than the... events of last night?' he asked, in a resigned voice.
Ailie laughed harder, but tried to calm herself. 'Not if you mean having Hermione-' She giggled again, set off by the thought of Snape's discomfort.
Snape held up a hand. 'No.' He rubbed his forehead, and muttered, 'Curse it all.'
Ailie took a few deep breaths, calming down. 'Look, it wasn't exactly my idea of a good time, either. I mean, I knew that I'd hear something of it, but really...' she made a face. 'Anyway, I guess I asked for it. I knew you'd dream about Hermione, but I didn't think it'd be so-'
Snape again cut her off. 'You knew what about Miss Granger?'
Ailie rolled her eyes. 'Come on. You've been lusting after her for months, I bet. Certainly since I arrived.'
Snape's face paled. 'You,' he said coldly, 'are mistaken.'
'Hell, no, I'm not,' Ailie said, smiling. 'And for you to be still be resisting it this morning speaks for your amazing self-denial capabilities.' Feeling the conversation was over, she rose. 'I suppose I will see you later, Snapey-poos,' she added, as she walked toward the door. Snape, a contemplative expression on his face, paid her no attention.
***
As the door closed behind Ailie, Snape once again cursed the day that his blood had mingled with hers. With her around, there was not even a hope that he could imagine his privacy intact. She seemed bent on reminding him that she was aware of his every thought.
The idea that she had witnessed that dream... the only consolation was that even she was unlikely to relate its details to anyone else. Surely he had put enough fear into her to prevent it, even if she lacked the decency to keep such a private event to herself.
The mere thought of it... If Hermione Granger ever happened to find this out, Snape had to admit he would be fairly well mortified. Her status as a colleague and ex-student of his aside, the idea that he could lust after someone he had first met as an eleven-year-old child completely ignored, the situation would still be horrifying for the girl. Little as he liked to acknowledge it even to himself, Snape feared what such a pretty young woman would think of him. Oh, he knew she hated him, that was plain. He rarely ran into any other type of person, and his indifference to such attitudes was firmly in place. He knew that her experiences as a student had firmly placed him as 'enemy' in her mind, and he had no regrets. The famous threesome of Gryffindors had been intolerable in their lack of respect for school rules and regulations, and had deserved more than what they had received in way of punishment.
But while Hermione, perhaps understandably, would hold on to an image of a hated teacher, Snape was capable of accepting that children grow. It was a conclusion impossible not to come to for a teacher; the children in his care grew under his gaze, changing and developing into adults. He may not have liked all of them, but he did notice.
Hermione Granger was, now, a grown woman, and he was able to appreciate the change from the know-it-all child that had haunted his classrooms, nagged him for better grades on his assignments and, yes, broken into his stores several times for forbidden ingredients for her various experiments. She was still a know-it-all, she was still annoying, and she still had a tendency to value her own doubtful judgement and disrespect his, but Snape was willing to admit she had developed some admirable qualities. Some intelligence, though not always used to its full capacity. Skill at potions; his current discomfort was testament to that. An enquiring mind, which was always an asset to be valued, especially when it led to the results that Hermione usually produced. A tendency, of late, to stand up to him when threatened, admirable only because it was so rarely he came across an equal in debate. Yes, there were some aspects of her personality he valued, though they did not quite make up for the aspects that grated on his nerves.
Snape sighed, and leant his head in his hands. This situation was ridiculous. He did not know why Hermione Granger had been in his dream last night, but he could not stop thinking about her. He had to figure out exactly what potion the girl had used; perhaps that would provide some answers. Surely she had not purposely made a potion that would force him to dream about her; she hated him, after all, and for some reason Snape felt she would be too sexually innocent to want such a thing. The thought of the dream-Hermione returned to him, controlling and alluring, torturing him with his need for her. Snape clenched his teeth. If Hermione had, indeed, designed the potion with knowledge of its effect, and given it to him in the hope of torturing him, she could not have designed better. He despised the fact that he was constantly weak with desire.
He thought back to the previous evening. Hermione had ignored him on the most part, content to chat with her friends and one or two other teachers. Her behaviour had been similar this morning; apart from that one moment, she had not spared so much as a glance in his direction. Such behaviour, Snape felt, did not indicate an intent to tease him sexually. He was certain that such an effect had not been her intention in making the potion.
Snape leaned back in his chair, deep in thought. He did not quite know how Hermione Granger would be punished, but punish her he would. Though the girl had seemed to find her voice lately, she had to learn that he was as nasty as ever, when provoked.
***
Hermione waved her parents off, and watched the coach all the way to the gate. The day, as far as they were concerned, had been a success. She was glad she had had the idea of holding Christmas at Hogwarts. It had brought her parents closer to her life, and she hoped they now felt a part of it.
She walked back to her rooms, deep in thought. It had been an interesting day. Ailie had returned just before the Grangers had been due to leave, and Hermione was glad that they had a little more time to get to know each other. Her father had particularly taken a shine to Ailie, and for that Hermione was especially glad. Ailie had tried to tell her something about Snape when she came back, but Hermione had been too busy to really pay attention. Now, she wondered what it had been, but Ailie had again disappeared, presumably out walking with Harry before he and Sirius left this evening.
The mention had brought a certain topic back to her mind, however. She'd never really thought about it before, but when it came to men, her experience was zero. She'd never had the chance. And being around Ailie made her feel even more of a baby.
Hermione got up and paced restlessly. She knew that having Severus Snape dream about her was something she should be disgusted by. If Harry or Ron ever found out, they'd be horrified for her. Still, she couldn't help wondering certain things; what did he think about her? Did he really find her attractive? What, exactly, had happened in the dream? What had she done to him? What had he done to her? Hermione may have been inexperienced, but she knew the theory of sex, and she was itchingly curious about this man that had pictured her in such a way.
She wondered if she would ever know these things. It was unlikely that her sexual experience would be expanded at Hogwarts. She giggled at the thought of kissing any of the male teachers- it was simply ridiculous. Most of them still treated her like a girl, with the exception of Snape. He, at least, treated her as a woman, and that had been before the potion. She still doubted that he could really be attracted to her, though; even if he was, the Snape she knew would never act on it. So her life at Hogwarts would be just as innocent as it had always been.
Hermione almost despaired. Would she always be such a child? It wasn't that she wanted to go out and bed the first man she saw, but not having even kissed a man before her twentieth birthday- that was ridiculous.
Hermione ceased her pacing when she heard a knock at the door. Opening it to find Sirius, preparing his goodbyes, she suddenly struck upon a solution to her problem.
'Sirius,' she said determinedly. 'I want you to kiss me.'
Sirius contemplated her for a moment. At least, Hermione thought, he wasn't dim witted and likely to misunderstand her wishes. She watched as one eyebrow raised.
'And what exactly has brought this on?'
'Does it matter?' she asked, resuming her earlier pacing. 'Sirius, my twentieth birthday is in four months and I have yet to be kissed by a man. Do you know when my last kiss was?' She turned on him, but noticing the sparkle in his eye, she decided not to elucidate. 'Well, that's beside the point. I'm nineteen, and don't know what it's like to even feel a beard against my face!'
'It's itchy,' Sirius said, rubbing his own beard. He caught Hermione's grim look and ceased his teasing. 'Look, Hermione, I'm not sure this is a good idea-'
'I'm not asking you to marry me!' Hermione yelled, throwing her hands up in frustration. 'All I want is for a grown man to kiss me. I thought you fit the bill. Unless,' she said, looking at him uncertainly, 'you couldn't bear to- I mean, you would probably have trouble kissing such a stupid girl- '
Sirius shook his head at her, and walked closer. 'Darling, no grown man could possibly have trouble wanting to kiss you.' With that informal agreement, he placed one hand under her chin and brought his face down to hers.
Hermione closed her eyes as his lips met hers. Cautiously, she raised a hand and placed it on his chest, feeling the thudding of his heart beneath her palm. She could feel the bristles of his beard tickling her face, could feel the warmth of his body so close to hers. After a brief but evocative kiss, Sirius raised his face from hers and looked down at her.
'Better?' he asked.
Dumbfounded, Hermione nodded. Slowly, she smiled. 'Thank you, Sirius,' she said.
Sirius smiled warmly down at her. 'Don't think about it. It was an honour to be the first man to taste those gorgeous lips of yours.'
The two stood in silent contemplation for a while, but moved apart when Harry unceremoniously stamped through the door.
The boy took in the close proximity of his two friends and, being relatively preceptive, blushed. 'Oh, sorry!' he said, turning to go again.
'Never mind, Harry,' Sirius called, walking forward to stop him. 'I was just saying goodbye to Hermione. I'll meet you in the entrance hall.'
A slightly awkward silence sprung up between the two friends as Sirius left, and Hermione was the first to take the situation into hand.
'Have a seat, Harry,' she said, moving toward the couch.
Harry sat, and contemplated her with a frown. 'What's going on, 'Mione?'
Hermione took a deep breath, and began to tell Harry about how she had been feeling since she returned to Hogwarts, leaving out nothing but Ailie's true identity, and certain events concerning Snape. She talked, though a little embarrassed, about her feelings over the past few days, her worries. Harry was looking at her with concern when she finished, and Hermione was feeling more than a little silly.
'Hermione, why didn't you tell me about this before? You know I would have...' He trailed off. 'Well, I would have been here for you, at least.'
Hermione smiled. 'I know you would. I just- I needed something else.' She looked down. 'I guess you don't understand.'
Harry sat silently for a moment, then Hermione felt his hand on her arm. 'I'm sorry, Hermione. You've always been beautiful to me,' he said.
Hermione looked up at him, a warm smile spreading across her face. 'Thanks, Harry.' She stood up and gave him a hug, this child-friend who had somehow grown up into a sensitive and caring man.
'You're not... you're not going to get together with Sirius, are you?' Harry asked.
Hermione laughed. 'No!'
Harry pulled back, and nodded. 'Good. That would just be too weird.'
Hermione walked with him to the door, her mind back on Severus Snape. She was glad Harry didn't know quite how weird the situation was.