Disclaimer: Not mine.
A/N: Well, here it is. It's a little short, exactly four pages on word. But it needed to be here, even if it just seems like filler. Thank you so much to everyone who reviewed! We reached 200! Woo-hoo! Hope you enjoy this chapter, and the next one will be out in a week.
Ch. 20
Snapely Occurrences
As soon as Draco disappeared, Hermione let loose the grin that she had been trying to hold back.
She couldn't believe that she was contemplating a relationship with Draco Malfoy of all people!
It looks like he's not the only one who's changed.
For once, Hermione wholeheartedly agreed with her inner voice. She had changed since school; she was more mature now.
She didn't need anyone else's approval. When she was at Hogwarts, her entire life had been centered on other people, and what they thought of her.
She wasn't quite sure, but it might have something to do with capturing twenty rogue death eaters and putting the fear of God into Lucius Malfoy all by her twentieth birthday.
So, for some reason, she was now fairly self-assured.
She had other things to worry about. She was legally an adult now, and she only had one year left of university until she became a fully trained potions master. Or mistress.
Snape had almost keeled over when he had found out he would be teaching her at the university level. Hermione still fondly remembered the look on his face when she had shown up for her first lesson.
Luckily, Hermione had drawn the Thursday and Friday slot in Snape's private classes.
She was pretty much one on one with the genius himself. He was still a snarky bastard, but he knew how to have fun.
And she was still trying to rid her lab room of the after-effects of his last 'joke'.
All in all, Hermione was very pleased with her life. And now she had just added another nuance to it.
She had handled a boyfriend before, but for some reason, Hermione thought that Draco might be a bit more of a handful than Ron…
Now why would she think that?
The next morning Draco was startled awake by the sound of his alarm.
Five seconds later the alarm lay against the wall in a crumpled pile of mechanisms and plastic.
Draco apparently didn't like his alarm clock.
Some twenty minutes later, the alarm gave one feeble, dying chirp and collapsed into a pile of dust.
Fortunately, this chirp did what it had failed to do earlier and woke Draco up.
Looking at the other clock in his room, Draco mumbled a dirty word and began rushing around his room.
Severus will murder me if I'm late. He'll use me for potions ingredients!
Five minutes later, Draco was out the door and inside the classroom.
Since he only had magical classes that day, apparating was okay. And since he was running late, apparating was necessary.
Severus, ahem, Professor Snape, was sitting behind a rather majestic-looking desk, absorbed in a text, and looking quite regal.
Draco snorted, "Still playing Master of the Dungeons, eh, Professor?"
Snape just glared. Apparently he wasn't in a very pleasant mood today.
Draco, slipping back into student mode, obediently sat in the chair that Snape gestured towards.
For some reason, he was actually surprised when the chair emitted a loud farting noise. I really should have expected that.
Standing, Draco pulled the Weasley Whoopee Cushion (Guaranteed to make friends and coworkers blush!) off of the chair and tossed it to, well, more like threw it at, his godfather.
"Really, Sev, I expected better than that."
Severus chuckled. "So sorry to have disappointed you Draco. Shall I get a few Canary Creams instead? As I recall, you do look rather fetching in Birdbrain Yellow."
At this point Draco made a very rude gesture with his hand, and Snape made an equally rude gesture right back.
"Now, I think, Mister Malfoy, that it is time for you to get to work."
Draco walked over to a cauldron that was filled with a bubbling purple concoction.
There was a list of ingredients floating off to one side and Draco perused it, becoming very interested.
He motioned for Severus to join him and then proceeded to pepper him with questions about the preparation of certain ingredients.
Draco nodded his head intelligently after each of the Professor's answers. "I see, but why diced rose hips with and infusion of asphodel?"
Snape replied, pleased that Draco had picked up on the irregularity. "This is a variation on the Draught of Living Death that was created by one of my higher level students. She will be receiving her certification in a year, and already has a couple patents out. She's decided to specialize in medicinal potions."
Draco nodded, "Alright, but what does this variation do?"
"It was supposed to numb great levels of pain, without actually putting the patient to sleep. It worked quite well, unfortunately, at this time, it just takes too long for the numbness to wear off."
"How long does it take?" Draco queried.
Snape smiled wryly, "Going on three months now. The poor test subject still can't use his right hand. It's a good thing that he's left-handed."
Draco laughed, "Well, that certainly is too long to work effectively."
Snape frowned, trying to return to, heck, trying to create some semblance of classroom order.
"You will come here two days a week. For you those days will be," here Snape consulted a chart on his desk, "Ah yes, you will be here precisely at ten o'clock on Tuesdays and Wednesdays."
At Snape's emphasis on 'precisely' Draco had the grace to hide his smile.
"You are welcome to come by and check on your potion at any time; however, please let me know at least an hour in advance."
Draco nodded. "So, how do I choose a potion?"
Snape smirked. "You don't. I do."
Draco gulped. Something about the glee on Snape's face was highly terrifying.
Snape strode towards a large cabinet in the corner, unlocked it with a key and began pulling out ingredients, setting them on his desk.
Snape looked up expectantly at Draco. "Well, do you expect these ingredients to sprout legs and walk to your work station?"
Draco stood obediently and carried the ingredients to a table near the front; all the while fervently hoping that none of the ingredients actually could sprout legs. Hey, it had happened before.
Draco allowed himself to enjoy the memory of that particular sixth year class, before snapping out of it and writing down the instructions Snape spelled onto the board.
Draco spent the rest of his afternoon alternately fearing for his life and jumping to obey commands.
Something about being taught by Snape again made him feel like an 'ickle firstie' again.
Not good.
Definitely not good.Draco lazily apparated home, showered and remembered to dress 'comfortably'.
What is she planning? Knowing Hermione it could be anything.
Draco donned a pair of black trousers and a grey sweater, hoping that's what she meant by comfortable.
He decided to bring his wand, that way he could just transfigure something if his current ensemble wasn't quite right.
He looked at the clock, noticed it was now 5:55 and decided to apparate.
An instant later he was standing in Hermione's living room, being stared at by an obviously confrontational Potter, and a curious Weaselette.
