Disclaimer: Having suddenly come into quite a sum, I have bought up the
majority of shares in Warner Bros, and have bought out the rights to all
book publishings of the Harry Potter series. I have also actually bought
Joanne Rowling through a strange little footnote in British law left over
from the 1206 marriage act. So, everything you read here is mine. Ha ha ha.
A/N: Sorry it's taken so long for me to update. I was writing other stuff that I needed to get done, but it's done now. I've actually written ahead on this quite a bit, and have written a fairly steamy chapter for the near future (I'm such a tease).
Chapter Thirty how can i save my little boy from oppenheimer's deadly toy
None of the three who experienced it ever mentioned the incident after the Death Eaters meeting to the others. Apart from keeping a watchful eye on Snape at breakfast, and making sure Ailie wasn't too seriously affected the next day, Hermione kept her usually talkative mouth shut on the subject, even when Dumbledore turned a sympathetic eye on her.
Ailie seemed to bear very few ill effects from the incident. Snape, severely going against the grain and taking heed of the reason for Hermione's midnight invasion, practised the feeble amount of patience he had with Ailie and withheld whatever thoughts he could on the event.
Though she didn't speak of the incident, Hermione thought on it. She had had the many hours until dawn, arms wrapped around her shivering friend and staring into the darkness, to think on it. So far, she had only ever seen the after-effects of Voldemort's doings, the echoes; the hurt in people's eyes as they talked of the victims, the sudden disappearance of friends or far-off acquaintances, the changes in Harry after he'd had particularly lucid dreams. The previous night, however, she felt she had come closer to the man's evil than ever before. She had seen it in Snape's eyes.
It set of a spark of inspiration in her mind. Scientifically- she refused to put any other label on her feelings- she knew that it was far from beneficial for Snape to constantly experience such trauma. Though Hermione knew he was a strong-minded man, steelily so, constant mental abuses such as Snape had to experience would be as detrimental to his health as physical wounds.
The problem came back to, as it always did, the unavoidability of such trauma. If Snape were to continue as a spy, and Hermione had no doubt he would, he would continue to be put in situations damaging to his mental health. So, Hermione reasoned, they needed to find a way to shield him from it all.
She doubted that Snape would agree to this plan, but after what she had seen, Hermione had unofficially moved the 'protect Snape' task Dumbledore had set them to first priority.
Snape looked up in surprise as she entered the dungeons that evening, just as she had intended. Knowing him as she did, Hermione felt that the best remedy for the events of the previous evening would be to stun Snape out of his mood. His surprise was covered quickly, however, and he took the usual position of staring silently at her in order to gain an explanation.
'I am sorry to interrupt your evening, but I have been inspired,' Hermione said breezily. 'I wanted your opinion.' Snape's eyebrows rose slightly, but he inclined his head in encouragement. Hermione nodded, and stepped further into the room, depositing her books on the edge of his desk and leaning on the desk behind her.
'I think I have come up with a sort of remedy to your... uh, situation,' she began. She saw something deaden in his eyes, but plunged on. 'As you are probably aware, doctors in the muggle world prescribe sedatives on a temporary basis to patients with severe mental trauma. I got to thinking along those lines...' Nervous of his reaction, she began to walk around the room.
'We know that Voldemort would detect a magical potion quite quickly, with his sensitivity to magic,' she continued. Snape's eyebrows rose; Hermione knew that it wasn't common knowledge outside the Ministry of Magic that one of Lord Voldemort's most frustrating skills was an ability to detect even small traces of magic, but really anyone with a logical brain could figure out that a creature of magic would be sensitive to magic. She spared him a glance, but as he didn't yet seem to be reacting negatively, felt able to continue.
'However, it is obvious that you need some sort of protection when you enter the Death Eaters' circle. We can't expect you to keep going in with no assurance of coming back.' A derisive snort sounded from Snape's direction, and Hermione cast a quelling glance at him. 'It's true. I have no idea how you've been able to do it all this time, but it is unnecessary. Our block so far, as far as I can work out, is that Voldemort would detect any protection spell around you and become suspicious, or remove it himself- '
'Such spells are ripped away at the meeting places. Some sort of enchantment,' Snape said flatly.
Hermione nodded. 'Exactly. So we can't use wizardly protection. But we can use muggle.' Snape's eyes narrowed, and Hermione swallowed. She knew he wouldn't like the next part.
'I, uh, as soon as I came to this I saw how we could protect you. It's amazing nobody has thought of it before, actually. We may be able to improve on it with time, and of course a more thorough method may be discovered with time. But for the moment...' She paused, genuinely afraid of his reaction. Resisting the urge to bite at her lip, she continued, 'For the moment the most effective method of protection I can see is a form of sedation. Combined with a mild tranquilliser, such a- potion- could prevent harm, both mental and to some extent physical-'
'Miss Granger,' Snape's voice, filled with cold fury, cut her off, 'are you suggesting that I walk into the serpent's den, drugged?'
Clamping her lips together, Hermione bit back her first response, explaining calmly, 'Not exactly. What I propose is a combination of the elements from several types of sedatives, to give you an amount of distance between yourself and the events happening at the meetings. Almost as though we would be sending your body in, and you just observing through a camera.'
'No.' The one word spoke volumes on his idea on the subject, mainly that it was closed. Hermione gave him a level look.
'I knew you wouldn't like it,' she said, 'but it's the only way.' Snape merely raised an eyebrow, and all the fear, the frustration, of the night before, when all she could do was impotently pat Ailie on the back and tell her everything was okay, came bursting forth.
'Do you really think I like it?' she said, shaking her head. 'Do you honestly believe that I enjoy the thought of sending you out to God knows what, your only protection the fact that you will be numb to it? I hate it!' Squeezing her eyes shut, Hermione banged her hand down on the desk in frustration. She sensed Snape start, the brash movement surprising him. 'I hate everything this war has forced us all to do, to give up. But I have to do something. And if it's only that- that instead of agony someone experiences remoteness, or even if it's the mercy of a cyanide pill-' She broke off, squeezing her eyes shut even more tightly and raising her fingers to her face to prod her temples. 'I am already sick of this war, and it hasn't even begun. So don't tell me I can't even try to protect you. You are needed to do your job, and as a skilled member of this society it is my duty to do mine.' Swallowing a few times, Hermione removed her hands from her face and looked sternly at him. 'If you have any problem with this, argue with Dumbledore.'
Snape looked at her mutely for a few moments, his expression unreadable. What's new? Hermione thought. Slowly, the slight hardness in his gaze turned to passivity, and he gave a one-shouldered shrug.
'I cannot take anything that would diminish my ability to judge situations, or would cause me to act abnormally,' was all he said.
Hermione nodded, the tension of the previous moment flowing away with relief. 'Anything less would be rather useless,' she said. 'I believe that with careful testing we can determine the qualities most desired in various forms of sedative and isolate them for what we need.' Snape merely tilted an eyebrow as if questioning her optimism.
With a small sigh, Hermione turned to her books, retrieving the few hastily scribbled ideas she had put down early that morning. Looking at them briefly, she handed them over to him, and began outlining what she knew about muggle drugs. Snape took it in, occasionally making a remark on a herbal remedy that would give similar results. Hermione drew a chair to the side of the desk and began to make notes.
After about twenty minutes, Hermione sensed Snape looking at her. He had been silent for a few minutes. She looked up enquiringly, meeting his thoughtful look.
'Miss Granger, why are you doing this?' For once, his voice was free of derision or malice.
It provoked a similar honesty in reply. Hermione bit her lip in thought, keeping her face turned away from him. 'Severus, if you saw a creature drowning in a puddle, would you scoop down your hand to save it?' She glanced up at him, and saw no reaction. 'Well,' she said, 'I would. And I think you're drowning.' She heard his derisive laugh, and withstood it, knowing that his reactions were derived from pain. She let him laugh at her, then turned briskly.
'I think we can begin with a few common herbal remedies. We can try the harsher chemicals later, but I think it would be preferable to keep it as simple as possible, don't you?' Her tone left no room for argument, but she paused for his response, requiring at least some form of cooperation from him. After a few icy seconds of his eyes boring into hers, he nodded, and Hermione moved to the stores cupboard.
They worked into the night, until a yawn from Hermione prompted Snape to remove her work from her hands.
'You are tired,' he said. 'Sleep, we can work on this another night.'
Hermione smiled. 'You're the one who's been taking mild doses of sedative all night. But you're right, there are classes tomorrow.' With a sigh, she began to pick up the various mixtures they had tried out, heading for the store cupboard to put them out of harm's way. Though quite sleepy herself, she saw out of the corner of her eye that Snape was still wide awake. Wide-eyed would have been more the term, she reconsidered; everything about him bespoke exhaustion driven off by pure will. It was unusual, considering, as she had said, he had been given several doses of mild sedative. A normal person would have been on the floor by now.
Eyes narrowed, Hermione reshelved the ingredients they had used. One old remedy for sleeplessness had always worked for her, but she knew Snape would refuse to try it if suggested. Some duplicity was in order.
'May- may I ask you a rather strange favour?' Hermione asked, looking apprehensively at the looming professor. He inclined his head, and she continued, 'I won't be able to get to sleep, with all the ideas we've come up with tonight. I usually get some hot chocolate from the kitchens, but tonight...' She trailed off, allowing some of the remnant fear from the night before to surface in her expression. She was gratified to see Snape soften a little, or at least as much as he ever did. 'Would- would you mind walking with me to the kitchens?' she asked.
Snape appeared to be considering the suggestion, and Hermione looked meekly away. After a moment, she sensed him shift position.
'I suppose I cannot refuse you, since you are finally following my advice about walking the castle halls at night,' he said in a flat tone, and Hermione smiled at the dry joke. She looked gratefully back at him, and headed for the door.
Once they had reached the kitchens, and Snape made no move to run off, Hermione went about the preparations for hot chocolate. When she set two mugs on the wooden table in the middle of the room, he made no comment. Once the chocolate was hot and frothy, Hermione brought the pan over to the table, pouring out two mugs. She sat, thinking that it was the last thing she had ever thought to be doing in the middle of the night, drinking hot chocolate with the potions master, but she didn't want to give him the opportunity to simply dump the unwanted drink. Spiked with cinnamon and warmly soothing, she felt it was about as good a sleeping potion as he could make himself.
Wordlessly, Snape sat across from her, and wrapped his hands around the warm mug. Hermione sipped at her chocolate, her mind searching of a topic to fill up the silence. She watched as he, in turn, took a sip at his beverage, then another. She turned her attention back to her mug, deciding the silence, perhaps, wasn't so bad after all.
Their work on the project continued for the rest of the week. Feeling strangely driven, Hermione took the results of their joint work and further them on her own, listing further possibilities for the next session. Within the week, a satisfactory mixture had been found; satisfactory, if not perfect, as it didn't provide the protection against physical pain that Hermione required, but it would do. It was quick-acting while still retaining longevity of effect, and, most importantly, was unlikely to be addictive.
The completion of that part of the project brought another disagreement, however; having been resigned to the idea of providing protection for himself, Snape had assumed that their next move was to design an efficient working poison in the event of his being discovered as a spy, and had made the mistake of mentioning it to Hermione. Her reaction was less than encouraging.
'He doesn't trust me to find another sort of protection for him, I know he doesn't, but how can he just throw his life away like that!' Hermione exclaimed after the conversation, pacing on the rug in Ailie's rooms. A rather amused Ailie looked on.
'He's just being realistic,' she suggested, trying to soothe her friend, but to no effect.
After their disastrous discussion on the subject, Snape judged it best to pursue the idea on his own, without Hermione's knowledge. In the meantime, the two concentrated on the qualities of protection potions, and Hermione polished up the final preparations for the summer solstice feast. Ailie, who as a non-official student did not have to take exams, took to occupying her time sitting with the working pair in the dungeons. One night, sitting doodling on some paper- she had finished her in-depth 'using- a-quill-to-poke-the-specimen-in-the-jar' project a few moments earlier- she looked up and contemplated the picture the three of them must make, each steadily working away in companionable silence.
'Well, this is just too cosy for words,' she muttered. Hermione, sitting closest to her, looked up.
'Pardon?' she asked. Ailie shook her head, smiling wryly as Hermione immediately returned to her work.
She was just about to heave a long suffering sigh when a noise sounded from Snape's desk.
'We don't need no education,' a chipmunk-like voice sang loudly, 'we don't need no self-control...'
Ailie knew which line was coming next, and peeked secretively at the front of the room. Snape was still holding the scroll from which the cacophony issued forth in one hand, and was watching it as though it as some diseased thing. Looking slightly to the side, Ailie saw Hermione staring wide-eyed at the spectacle.
'No dark sarcasms in the classroom...'
Ailie bit back a chuckle. It was that line that had inspired her to pull the stunt in the first place.
'Teacher, leave those kids alone- hey, teacher, leave those ki-'
The song was abruptly cut off as Snape, with an expression of satisfaction, incinerated the scroll. Calmly, he brushed the remaining ashes into a bin at the side of the desk, and, sparing Ailie a brief glare, returned to his marking. Hermione looked at Ailie, feigning disapproval but with a smile in her eyes. Ailie giggled freely, ignoring the disgusted shake of the head Snape gave.
There was a swift knock at the door, causing all three heads to turn. Professor Flitwick stuck his head around the door.
'Sorry to interrupt,' he chirped. 'Professor Dumbledore would like to see all three of you at once.'
Ailie glanced at Hermione, who looked just as puzzled as she felt, and rose. They would find out soon enough.
***
Under was well and truly fed up. First he had been captured by some great beast of a man who had picked him up from the ground as though he was a cat and who had accused him of being an elf of all things- an *elf*- and then he had been deposited in this room to be looked at and poked at by several strange-looking people and interviewed by a sorcerer who disguised himself as an old man. And none of it had yet produced Ailie.
She was here, he was sure of it. He had been watching the place for weeks after he had glimpsed her, and he could virtually smell her presence now. Yet they refused to produce her.
He had followed his senses through many strange towns in his search for her, but his wanderings had finally paid off. It had been near a small town filled with people who resembled those he was captured by- people in unfamiliar dress, who walked around with sticks of wood in their hands and wore dresses. He had a feeling about these people- some sort of connection that he couldn't place, and so he had lurked around the edges of the town.
He had been rewarded amazingly quick, almost stumbling across Ailie as she walked with a strange man dressed in black. At first, a shock of fear had run through Under as he had noted the energies of the man, but he had, upon observing Ailie's natural-seeming behaviour with the man, given direct action a second thought. A moment later, it was too late, as the man had turned to Ailie and grabbed her, then both had disappeared.
Under had waited there for hours in case they returned, but had finally given up. Later, as he scouted the countryside surrounding the town, he had come across a towering castle, and had sensed Ailie there. He had spent the next two weeks trying to penetrate the fortress's maze of spells and protections, and had almost reached his goal when the big hairy man had grabbed him.
The old man across the table smiled at him, and Under was just about to demand that they show him Ailie when the woman herself walked in, accompanied by the dark man and another woman. Ailie's face lit up when she saw him, and Under rose to greet her.
***
Hermione watched as Ailie hugged and kissed the stranger, the two of them puppy-like in their enthusiasm to see each other. Looking at Dumbledore, she raised her eyebrows, unconsciously mimicking the man beside her in her demand for an explanation.
The old wizard waited until Ailie and her friend had calmed down somewhat, then indicated that they all be seated. Ailie moved a chair to sit next to the young stranger, holding his hands in a grip that indicated his departure would take place only with great difficulty.
'Hermione, Severus,' Dumbledore began, 'I would like you to meet Under Neverglen, a Wiccan and member of Ailie's coven.' There was a few more minutes of noise as Hermione leant over to congratulate Ailie on the arrival, and was introduced. 'Mr. Neverglen has been searching for our young friend for the last two months.'
'And the rest of Ailie's coven?' Hermione asked, only slightly worried. If the coven had been discovered, Under Neverglen would show some sign. Under said something in gaelic.
'They're completely fine,' Ailie beamed.
'That's wonderful news,' Hermione said, smiling at her friend. Dumbledore nodded in agreement.
'Yes,' he said, rubbing his hands together. 'And now, I feel, our two young friends here would like to do some catching up.' Ailie nodded vigourously, and the group stood.
'Thank you, Professor Dumbledore,' Under said, his voice strange with its thick accent. 'Ailie and I will inform you as soon as we make our plans.'
Hermione frowned. 'Plans?' she asked.
'Of course,' Under said, following Ailie to the door. 'To go home. We'll be leaving as soon as possible.'
Hermione's smile faded a little as she watched them walk away.
Thanks:
RedStrawberry900: I'm really sorry to hear about your friend's dad- that really, really sucks. I am honoured that you still checked my story and I'm sorry I haven't updated for so long- I spent the last month or so finishing my crappy romance novel, something I had to do because I need the money, and I needed to get my head out of the seductive world of Snape to make sure my work had its own form. Do not fear- whenever I know I won't be able to update for a long time I tend to put up an explanation, but as this gap just sort of grew I didn't. There is no problem with updating, but as a writer I occasionally need to do other stuff and pull my head out of Snapeland. I promise more chapters soon. Oh, and with your other review- you asked about more classroom action. I agree that scenes where students watch their teachers react to each other are really funny, but the reason I've kept them out is because I feel Snape and Hermione are extremely professional, and just wouldn't do anything interesting in front of students. Sorry.
Richal: I'm tickled that you told your friends about the ear-biting thing. I don't know, it just seemed like a Snape thing to do. Thanks for the review- I enjoyed it.
Tegan: Thanks for such a long review. I'm sorry you started reading and got stuck because I didn't update for so long. I will be updating more frequently now.
Sukima: Thank you for such wonderful compliments! I'm sorry about you getting in trouble for your chores. You could always tell your father about the importance of reading to developing vocabulary.
Uberscully: I don't think I've ever told you this, but I love your name. I'm a huge 'phile and seeing it in my reviews page just gives me a weird little thrill. Just thought I'd tell you.
KET, Matraiea, angel-g2001, colibi, sleepless, pinkey, Sarah, elfie, Marston Chicklet, grasshopper, labrissa, christine jackson, evil butterfli, beatrice2005, Nala, Eirite, Morwen, Her Lover's Spy, Miko-chan, Heavenstone, Sarah T, Angel of the North and everyone else who has reviewed: I am really, really sorry I haven't updated in so long. I really had to do the other stuff, but believe me I am back. I have written quite a bit ahead, and am basically filling in the gaps now. And soon there will be a nice, gooey chapter to reward your patience!
The title of this chapter is from Sting's 'Russians:'
A/N: Sorry it's taken so long for me to update. I was writing other stuff that I needed to get done, but it's done now. I've actually written ahead on this quite a bit, and have written a fairly steamy chapter for the near future (I'm such a tease).
Chapter Thirty how can i save my little boy from oppenheimer's deadly toy
None of the three who experienced it ever mentioned the incident after the Death Eaters meeting to the others. Apart from keeping a watchful eye on Snape at breakfast, and making sure Ailie wasn't too seriously affected the next day, Hermione kept her usually talkative mouth shut on the subject, even when Dumbledore turned a sympathetic eye on her.
Ailie seemed to bear very few ill effects from the incident. Snape, severely going against the grain and taking heed of the reason for Hermione's midnight invasion, practised the feeble amount of patience he had with Ailie and withheld whatever thoughts he could on the event.
Though she didn't speak of the incident, Hermione thought on it. She had had the many hours until dawn, arms wrapped around her shivering friend and staring into the darkness, to think on it. So far, she had only ever seen the after-effects of Voldemort's doings, the echoes; the hurt in people's eyes as they talked of the victims, the sudden disappearance of friends or far-off acquaintances, the changes in Harry after he'd had particularly lucid dreams. The previous night, however, she felt she had come closer to the man's evil than ever before. She had seen it in Snape's eyes.
It set of a spark of inspiration in her mind. Scientifically- she refused to put any other label on her feelings- she knew that it was far from beneficial for Snape to constantly experience such trauma. Though Hermione knew he was a strong-minded man, steelily so, constant mental abuses such as Snape had to experience would be as detrimental to his health as physical wounds.
The problem came back to, as it always did, the unavoidability of such trauma. If Snape were to continue as a spy, and Hermione had no doubt he would, he would continue to be put in situations damaging to his mental health. So, Hermione reasoned, they needed to find a way to shield him from it all.
She doubted that Snape would agree to this plan, but after what she had seen, Hermione had unofficially moved the 'protect Snape' task Dumbledore had set them to first priority.
Snape looked up in surprise as she entered the dungeons that evening, just as she had intended. Knowing him as she did, Hermione felt that the best remedy for the events of the previous evening would be to stun Snape out of his mood. His surprise was covered quickly, however, and he took the usual position of staring silently at her in order to gain an explanation.
'I am sorry to interrupt your evening, but I have been inspired,' Hermione said breezily. 'I wanted your opinion.' Snape's eyebrows rose slightly, but he inclined his head in encouragement. Hermione nodded, and stepped further into the room, depositing her books on the edge of his desk and leaning on the desk behind her.
'I think I have come up with a sort of remedy to your... uh, situation,' she began. She saw something deaden in his eyes, but plunged on. 'As you are probably aware, doctors in the muggle world prescribe sedatives on a temporary basis to patients with severe mental trauma. I got to thinking along those lines...' Nervous of his reaction, she began to walk around the room.
'We know that Voldemort would detect a magical potion quite quickly, with his sensitivity to magic,' she continued. Snape's eyebrows rose; Hermione knew that it wasn't common knowledge outside the Ministry of Magic that one of Lord Voldemort's most frustrating skills was an ability to detect even small traces of magic, but really anyone with a logical brain could figure out that a creature of magic would be sensitive to magic. She spared him a glance, but as he didn't yet seem to be reacting negatively, felt able to continue.
'However, it is obvious that you need some sort of protection when you enter the Death Eaters' circle. We can't expect you to keep going in with no assurance of coming back.' A derisive snort sounded from Snape's direction, and Hermione cast a quelling glance at him. 'It's true. I have no idea how you've been able to do it all this time, but it is unnecessary. Our block so far, as far as I can work out, is that Voldemort would detect any protection spell around you and become suspicious, or remove it himself- '
'Such spells are ripped away at the meeting places. Some sort of enchantment,' Snape said flatly.
Hermione nodded. 'Exactly. So we can't use wizardly protection. But we can use muggle.' Snape's eyes narrowed, and Hermione swallowed. She knew he wouldn't like the next part.
'I, uh, as soon as I came to this I saw how we could protect you. It's amazing nobody has thought of it before, actually. We may be able to improve on it with time, and of course a more thorough method may be discovered with time. But for the moment...' She paused, genuinely afraid of his reaction. Resisting the urge to bite at her lip, she continued, 'For the moment the most effective method of protection I can see is a form of sedation. Combined with a mild tranquilliser, such a- potion- could prevent harm, both mental and to some extent physical-'
'Miss Granger,' Snape's voice, filled with cold fury, cut her off, 'are you suggesting that I walk into the serpent's den, drugged?'
Clamping her lips together, Hermione bit back her first response, explaining calmly, 'Not exactly. What I propose is a combination of the elements from several types of sedatives, to give you an amount of distance between yourself and the events happening at the meetings. Almost as though we would be sending your body in, and you just observing through a camera.'
'No.' The one word spoke volumes on his idea on the subject, mainly that it was closed. Hermione gave him a level look.
'I knew you wouldn't like it,' she said, 'but it's the only way.' Snape merely raised an eyebrow, and all the fear, the frustration, of the night before, when all she could do was impotently pat Ailie on the back and tell her everything was okay, came bursting forth.
'Do you really think I like it?' she said, shaking her head. 'Do you honestly believe that I enjoy the thought of sending you out to God knows what, your only protection the fact that you will be numb to it? I hate it!' Squeezing her eyes shut, Hermione banged her hand down on the desk in frustration. She sensed Snape start, the brash movement surprising him. 'I hate everything this war has forced us all to do, to give up. But I have to do something. And if it's only that- that instead of agony someone experiences remoteness, or even if it's the mercy of a cyanide pill-' She broke off, squeezing her eyes shut even more tightly and raising her fingers to her face to prod her temples. 'I am already sick of this war, and it hasn't even begun. So don't tell me I can't even try to protect you. You are needed to do your job, and as a skilled member of this society it is my duty to do mine.' Swallowing a few times, Hermione removed her hands from her face and looked sternly at him. 'If you have any problem with this, argue with Dumbledore.'
Snape looked at her mutely for a few moments, his expression unreadable. What's new? Hermione thought. Slowly, the slight hardness in his gaze turned to passivity, and he gave a one-shouldered shrug.
'I cannot take anything that would diminish my ability to judge situations, or would cause me to act abnormally,' was all he said.
Hermione nodded, the tension of the previous moment flowing away with relief. 'Anything less would be rather useless,' she said. 'I believe that with careful testing we can determine the qualities most desired in various forms of sedative and isolate them for what we need.' Snape merely tilted an eyebrow as if questioning her optimism.
With a small sigh, Hermione turned to her books, retrieving the few hastily scribbled ideas she had put down early that morning. Looking at them briefly, she handed them over to him, and began outlining what she knew about muggle drugs. Snape took it in, occasionally making a remark on a herbal remedy that would give similar results. Hermione drew a chair to the side of the desk and began to make notes.
After about twenty minutes, Hermione sensed Snape looking at her. He had been silent for a few minutes. She looked up enquiringly, meeting his thoughtful look.
'Miss Granger, why are you doing this?' For once, his voice was free of derision or malice.
It provoked a similar honesty in reply. Hermione bit her lip in thought, keeping her face turned away from him. 'Severus, if you saw a creature drowning in a puddle, would you scoop down your hand to save it?' She glanced up at him, and saw no reaction. 'Well,' she said, 'I would. And I think you're drowning.' She heard his derisive laugh, and withstood it, knowing that his reactions were derived from pain. She let him laugh at her, then turned briskly.
'I think we can begin with a few common herbal remedies. We can try the harsher chemicals later, but I think it would be preferable to keep it as simple as possible, don't you?' Her tone left no room for argument, but she paused for his response, requiring at least some form of cooperation from him. After a few icy seconds of his eyes boring into hers, he nodded, and Hermione moved to the stores cupboard.
They worked into the night, until a yawn from Hermione prompted Snape to remove her work from her hands.
'You are tired,' he said. 'Sleep, we can work on this another night.'
Hermione smiled. 'You're the one who's been taking mild doses of sedative all night. But you're right, there are classes tomorrow.' With a sigh, she began to pick up the various mixtures they had tried out, heading for the store cupboard to put them out of harm's way. Though quite sleepy herself, she saw out of the corner of her eye that Snape was still wide awake. Wide-eyed would have been more the term, she reconsidered; everything about him bespoke exhaustion driven off by pure will. It was unusual, considering, as she had said, he had been given several doses of mild sedative. A normal person would have been on the floor by now.
Eyes narrowed, Hermione reshelved the ingredients they had used. One old remedy for sleeplessness had always worked for her, but she knew Snape would refuse to try it if suggested. Some duplicity was in order.
'May- may I ask you a rather strange favour?' Hermione asked, looking apprehensively at the looming professor. He inclined his head, and she continued, 'I won't be able to get to sleep, with all the ideas we've come up with tonight. I usually get some hot chocolate from the kitchens, but tonight...' She trailed off, allowing some of the remnant fear from the night before to surface in her expression. She was gratified to see Snape soften a little, or at least as much as he ever did. 'Would- would you mind walking with me to the kitchens?' she asked.
Snape appeared to be considering the suggestion, and Hermione looked meekly away. After a moment, she sensed him shift position.
'I suppose I cannot refuse you, since you are finally following my advice about walking the castle halls at night,' he said in a flat tone, and Hermione smiled at the dry joke. She looked gratefully back at him, and headed for the door.
Once they had reached the kitchens, and Snape made no move to run off, Hermione went about the preparations for hot chocolate. When she set two mugs on the wooden table in the middle of the room, he made no comment. Once the chocolate was hot and frothy, Hermione brought the pan over to the table, pouring out two mugs. She sat, thinking that it was the last thing she had ever thought to be doing in the middle of the night, drinking hot chocolate with the potions master, but she didn't want to give him the opportunity to simply dump the unwanted drink. Spiked with cinnamon and warmly soothing, she felt it was about as good a sleeping potion as he could make himself.
Wordlessly, Snape sat across from her, and wrapped his hands around the warm mug. Hermione sipped at her chocolate, her mind searching of a topic to fill up the silence. She watched as he, in turn, took a sip at his beverage, then another. She turned her attention back to her mug, deciding the silence, perhaps, wasn't so bad after all.
Their work on the project continued for the rest of the week. Feeling strangely driven, Hermione took the results of their joint work and further them on her own, listing further possibilities for the next session. Within the week, a satisfactory mixture had been found; satisfactory, if not perfect, as it didn't provide the protection against physical pain that Hermione required, but it would do. It was quick-acting while still retaining longevity of effect, and, most importantly, was unlikely to be addictive.
The completion of that part of the project brought another disagreement, however; having been resigned to the idea of providing protection for himself, Snape had assumed that their next move was to design an efficient working poison in the event of his being discovered as a spy, and had made the mistake of mentioning it to Hermione. Her reaction was less than encouraging.
'He doesn't trust me to find another sort of protection for him, I know he doesn't, but how can he just throw his life away like that!' Hermione exclaimed after the conversation, pacing on the rug in Ailie's rooms. A rather amused Ailie looked on.
'He's just being realistic,' she suggested, trying to soothe her friend, but to no effect.
After their disastrous discussion on the subject, Snape judged it best to pursue the idea on his own, without Hermione's knowledge. In the meantime, the two concentrated on the qualities of protection potions, and Hermione polished up the final preparations for the summer solstice feast. Ailie, who as a non-official student did not have to take exams, took to occupying her time sitting with the working pair in the dungeons. One night, sitting doodling on some paper- she had finished her in-depth 'using- a-quill-to-poke-the-specimen-in-the-jar' project a few moments earlier- she looked up and contemplated the picture the three of them must make, each steadily working away in companionable silence.
'Well, this is just too cosy for words,' she muttered. Hermione, sitting closest to her, looked up.
'Pardon?' she asked. Ailie shook her head, smiling wryly as Hermione immediately returned to her work.
She was just about to heave a long suffering sigh when a noise sounded from Snape's desk.
'We don't need no education,' a chipmunk-like voice sang loudly, 'we don't need no self-control...'
Ailie knew which line was coming next, and peeked secretively at the front of the room. Snape was still holding the scroll from which the cacophony issued forth in one hand, and was watching it as though it as some diseased thing. Looking slightly to the side, Ailie saw Hermione staring wide-eyed at the spectacle.
'No dark sarcasms in the classroom...'
Ailie bit back a chuckle. It was that line that had inspired her to pull the stunt in the first place.
'Teacher, leave those kids alone- hey, teacher, leave those ki-'
The song was abruptly cut off as Snape, with an expression of satisfaction, incinerated the scroll. Calmly, he brushed the remaining ashes into a bin at the side of the desk, and, sparing Ailie a brief glare, returned to his marking. Hermione looked at Ailie, feigning disapproval but with a smile in her eyes. Ailie giggled freely, ignoring the disgusted shake of the head Snape gave.
There was a swift knock at the door, causing all three heads to turn. Professor Flitwick stuck his head around the door.
'Sorry to interrupt,' he chirped. 'Professor Dumbledore would like to see all three of you at once.'
Ailie glanced at Hermione, who looked just as puzzled as she felt, and rose. They would find out soon enough.
***
Under was well and truly fed up. First he had been captured by some great beast of a man who had picked him up from the ground as though he was a cat and who had accused him of being an elf of all things- an *elf*- and then he had been deposited in this room to be looked at and poked at by several strange-looking people and interviewed by a sorcerer who disguised himself as an old man. And none of it had yet produced Ailie.
She was here, he was sure of it. He had been watching the place for weeks after he had glimpsed her, and he could virtually smell her presence now. Yet they refused to produce her.
He had followed his senses through many strange towns in his search for her, but his wanderings had finally paid off. It had been near a small town filled with people who resembled those he was captured by- people in unfamiliar dress, who walked around with sticks of wood in their hands and wore dresses. He had a feeling about these people- some sort of connection that he couldn't place, and so he had lurked around the edges of the town.
He had been rewarded amazingly quick, almost stumbling across Ailie as she walked with a strange man dressed in black. At first, a shock of fear had run through Under as he had noted the energies of the man, but he had, upon observing Ailie's natural-seeming behaviour with the man, given direct action a second thought. A moment later, it was too late, as the man had turned to Ailie and grabbed her, then both had disappeared.
Under had waited there for hours in case they returned, but had finally given up. Later, as he scouted the countryside surrounding the town, he had come across a towering castle, and had sensed Ailie there. He had spent the next two weeks trying to penetrate the fortress's maze of spells and protections, and had almost reached his goal when the big hairy man had grabbed him.
The old man across the table smiled at him, and Under was just about to demand that they show him Ailie when the woman herself walked in, accompanied by the dark man and another woman. Ailie's face lit up when she saw him, and Under rose to greet her.
***
Hermione watched as Ailie hugged and kissed the stranger, the two of them puppy-like in their enthusiasm to see each other. Looking at Dumbledore, she raised her eyebrows, unconsciously mimicking the man beside her in her demand for an explanation.
The old wizard waited until Ailie and her friend had calmed down somewhat, then indicated that they all be seated. Ailie moved a chair to sit next to the young stranger, holding his hands in a grip that indicated his departure would take place only with great difficulty.
'Hermione, Severus,' Dumbledore began, 'I would like you to meet Under Neverglen, a Wiccan and member of Ailie's coven.' There was a few more minutes of noise as Hermione leant over to congratulate Ailie on the arrival, and was introduced. 'Mr. Neverglen has been searching for our young friend for the last two months.'
'And the rest of Ailie's coven?' Hermione asked, only slightly worried. If the coven had been discovered, Under Neverglen would show some sign. Under said something in gaelic.
'They're completely fine,' Ailie beamed.
'That's wonderful news,' Hermione said, smiling at her friend. Dumbledore nodded in agreement.
'Yes,' he said, rubbing his hands together. 'And now, I feel, our two young friends here would like to do some catching up.' Ailie nodded vigourously, and the group stood.
'Thank you, Professor Dumbledore,' Under said, his voice strange with its thick accent. 'Ailie and I will inform you as soon as we make our plans.'
Hermione frowned. 'Plans?' she asked.
'Of course,' Under said, following Ailie to the door. 'To go home. We'll be leaving as soon as possible.'
Hermione's smile faded a little as she watched them walk away.
Thanks:
RedStrawberry900: I'm really sorry to hear about your friend's dad- that really, really sucks. I am honoured that you still checked my story and I'm sorry I haven't updated for so long- I spent the last month or so finishing my crappy romance novel, something I had to do because I need the money, and I needed to get my head out of the seductive world of Snape to make sure my work had its own form. Do not fear- whenever I know I won't be able to update for a long time I tend to put up an explanation, but as this gap just sort of grew I didn't. There is no problem with updating, but as a writer I occasionally need to do other stuff and pull my head out of Snapeland. I promise more chapters soon. Oh, and with your other review- you asked about more classroom action. I agree that scenes where students watch their teachers react to each other are really funny, but the reason I've kept them out is because I feel Snape and Hermione are extremely professional, and just wouldn't do anything interesting in front of students. Sorry.
Richal: I'm tickled that you told your friends about the ear-biting thing. I don't know, it just seemed like a Snape thing to do. Thanks for the review- I enjoyed it.
Tegan: Thanks for such a long review. I'm sorry you started reading and got stuck because I didn't update for so long. I will be updating more frequently now.
Sukima: Thank you for such wonderful compliments! I'm sorry about you getting in trouble for your chores. You could always tell your father about the importance of reading to developing vocabulary.
Uberscully: I don't think I've ever told you this, but I love your name. I'm a huge 'phile and seeing it in my reviews page just gives me a weird little thrill. Just thought I'd tell you.
KET, Matraiea, angel-g2001, colibi, sleepless, pinkey, Sarah, elfie, Marston Chicklet, grasshopper, labrissa, christine jackson, evil butterfli, beatrice2005, Nala, Eirite, Morwen, Her Lover's Spy, Miko-chan, Heavenstone, Sarah T, Angel of the North and everyone else who has reviewed: I am really, really sorry I haven't updated in so long. I really had to do the other stuff, but believe me I am back. I have written quite a bit ahead, and am basically filling in the gaps now. And soon there will be a nice, gooey chapter to reward your patience!
The title of this chapter is from Sting's 'Russians:'