"Lumos," Severus muttered as he struggled to sit up in bed. Judging by the twisted sheets, he had tossed and turned most of the night. He reached for the watch sitting on the night stand and scowled; it was nearly eleven-thirty in the morning. He couldn't remember the last time he'd slept more than seven hours without aid of a sleeping potion. He threw his legs over the side of the bed, his feet searching for his slippers. He pulled on his robe over his black silk boxers and staggered toward the bathroom. His body seemed unusually stiff this morning.
After settling the subject of a full bladder, Severus disrobed and stood before the full-length mirror. He stared critically at his reflection. He was too thin, too pale. His torso and arms were covered with scars, from crucio and beatings. His gaze traveled further up to the limp, shiny hair and the dark circles under his eyes. He looked old. Older than he should, at forty-two.
Unable to take more of his own image, he turned on the shower and stepped in once steam began to rise. He closed his eyes as the hot water streamed over him. A few minutes later, he reached for a bar of soap and began to lather himself. The water slowly awakened him, and his brain began to function on a normal level. Suddenly, he was hit with the realization of what he had done last night, in his moment of weakness. Surely Dumbledore had been expecting that. And Severus had played right into his hands.
He had apologized to Granger, had even told her about choosing Voldemort over going to Berkeley. She had responded not by growing angry, but instead she tried to comfort him. And then Severus had retreated, away from her presence and contact and had reverted back to his usual self, though not quite as cruel.
He leaned back against the cool stone and weighed his options. He could pretend it didn't happened. That he had simply invited her to work on the potion, nothing more. To remind Granger that he was Severus Snape and he cared for no one. But he knew that was no longer true.
He had been acutely aware of her yesterday as she stood before him, healing the wounds Potter had inflicted. She smelled clean, with a hint of lavender. Her fingers were soft and warm as they brushed his skin, her breath soft as she murmured her spells. Severus had been captivated by her very presence, and he found himself staring at her unabatedly.
Despite all his efforts, Hermione Granger was still trying to protect him. She had saved him from the Death Eaters. And even now, she was healing his wounds from her best friend and partner, even though Severus had deserved it. It occurred to him that perhaps she protected him still out of loyalty to Albus. It would not be surprising, since Dumbledore always got what he wanted.
Patience my ass!
He turned the water off and reached out his hand for the towel that floated towards him.
The empathy that she had displayed on the Astronomy Tower was more than duty, however. She had remained quiet to let him talk, and she had taken his hand just when he had needed that little bit of human contact. And he had seen the disappointment in her eyes when he pulled away and stood, and the hurt when his habitual sneer returned. She had seen too much, and his automatic response was to push her away.
Probably the wise thing, he concluded as he finished toweling off and went back to his bedroom for clothing. As he pulled out one of his standard black suits, he decided the best course of action was outright denial of the entire incident. He would simply act as if nothing had happened and continue to be his normal, snarky self. He finally finished buttoning, then found his shoes and threw on his robes. He felt self-assured as he went up to lunch.
Hermione leisurely browsed the rows of bookshelves in Flourish & Blotts in Diagon Alley. She was supposed to meet Ron for lunch at noon, but she still had some time to kill before that. She had already stopped by the Apothecary to resupply her potions ingredients. Now she wanted to buy a few books, since she hadn't in several months.
She was trying to decide between a new arithmancy book, The Numbers Never Lie, and Dark Magic Through the Ages, a thick history book, when something in the Potions section caught her eye and she stopped. It was Extending the Life of Your Potions, by Moyra Faldco. She pulled the volume out and looked at it with interest. She had done some work on a potions extender for Harry just last spring, and she was curious to see other theories as well. Perhaps it could be useful with the mortalis fallax potion as well.
She eventually decided to buy all three, and left for The Leaky Cauldron. She was still a few minutes early, but Ron had never been punctual. She found a table near the door and began reading the potions book. She had only read a few pages before Ron walked in.
"Don't tell me you're reading!" he teased as Hermione stood to hug him.
"Do you even know how to read, Weasley?"
"So how are you?" he asked as he slipped into the seat opposite her. "Snape still giving you trouble?"
"Gods! I nearly forgot! Harry came to visit last night, right? They got into a fight!"
"Harry and Snape? Gods, I wish I could've been there! Bet it was all Snape's fault."
"Well, he did say Harry was responsible for Lily's death."
Ron's face turned red to match his hair and he growled, "I'll hit him myself next time!"
"Calm down. Harry got him good. In fact, I don't think Snape hit Harry even once," she said. "And somehow in all of this, I got roped into helping Snape with some potion."
"Don't do it, 'Mione. He's still a greasy git and can't be trusted."
"Actually I think Albus is behind all of this, and if that's the case, I won't have much choice but to help."
"Still wish I could've seen that," Ron muttered, grinning. "Harry beating the hell out of that bastard."
Hermione shook her head. "What is it with men and beating on each other?"
A young wizard came over to take their orders, and after he had left, Hermione asked, "How is your mum?"
"Still on me about getting married and giving her grandchildren, of course," he answered with a laugh. "Oh, she did instruct me to remind you that you are expected at the Burrow for Christmas. Harry too if he can get away."
"Of course, I'll be there." She paused, then asked, "Speaking of Harry getting away, he slipped out pretty quick after dinner last night. Did he tell you anything about what he's doing?"
"Are you kidding? I gave up on asking him. Wouldn't even say where he was staying, except to tell me how to get ahold of him in an extreme emergency."
"How? He didn't tell me," she said with extreme irritation.
"I've got it all written down back at the flat, but it's something like owl a message addressed to some woman at the post office in Vienna? Or maybe Hamburg, I don't know, one of them, and then it will be picked up and delivered."
"Why all the secrecy?" Hermione mused. "Something weird is going on."
Ron shrugged. "I dunno, but at the Ministry, they keep saying he's off on assignment in Germany, something about rogue vampires
"Harry fighting vampires? Right. See what you can dig up at the Ministry and I'll work on Dumbledore. I'm sure he's up to his neck in all of this."
"Yeah, I'll talk to Dad and see if he knows anything; but Fudge doesn't tell him much, even though he's Deputy Minister."
Their food arrived, and Ron tore into his like he hadn' t eaten in weeks. Hermione watched with amusement and even laughed when he looked at her with a mouthful of food and asked, "What's so funny?"
"You seriously need to clean up your table manners if you ever expect to get and keep a girlfriend."
"Hey, what about that witch at Hogwarts? Didn't you tell me there was a teacher only a few years older than you?"
She rolled her eyes in exasperation. "I am not setting you up with my co-workers, Ron."
"It's not a set-up," he argued between bites. "I just want you to casually introduce us."
"No."
"Please?"
"Don't beg, it's so pathetic."
"What a friend you are," he grumbled. "I'd hook you up with any of my acquaintances."
"Thanks, but I don't like to babysit when I go out," she retorted. "Besides, I'm perfectly happy being single. I don't have the time for a relationship."
"You mean, you read too much to have time for a relationship."
"No," she responded angrily. "I'm working with Snape on a really important potion, and when I'm not actively doing experiments with it, I'll probably be in the library researching for it."
"See? This is what happens when me or Harry isn't around -- you become a workaholic!"
"So? It keeps me busy."
"Remember what happened two years ago when Harry and I went to the States to help track down that dark witch? Remember?" he asked, the pitch of his voice going higher.
"Yes," she mumbled.
"Remember how you didn't sleep at home for two weeks, if at all? How you nearly got killed by that Death Eater, what's his name, Edwin, Edgar--"
"Edward Hodgkiss."
"Yeah, him! Because you didn't wait for us like you were supposed to. Because you wanted to get a little more done while Harry and me were away." He paused, staring at her with intensity, then he continued, "I'm worried about you; you don't look good. You need to get out of Hogwarts, get back to being an auror. It sure isn't the same without you."
"You're right," she said after a moment. "I know you're right. Teaching is a lot harder than I ever thought. But I can't leave, not now, while Albus still needs me."
Ron sighed. "I was afraid you'd say that. Then at least promise me you won't go traipsing abroad again without letting me know."
"I promise."
They continued to eat in silence, until Ron began talking about quidditch. Hermione gave him the rundown of the Hogwarts teams this year. So far Ravenclaw was dominating, thanks to an awesome line-up of chasers and a talented seeker, but Slytherin was close behind.
"How about Gryffindor? How're they doing?" Ron asked.
"Dead last, actually. Minerva says it's the worst team we've had since she's been Head of House."
"Ouch!"
"You should come see Ravenclaw and Slytherin play in February. It should be an incredible game."
"And you could introduce me to -- what was her name again?" he asked with an innocent grin.
"No," Hermione answered as she looked at her watch. "I need to get back soon."
"Yeah, I need to drop by and finish up some paperwork from the bitch I pulled in last week. Look at this," he said, pulling up his right sleeve to show a garish green mark on his forearm.
"What is that?"
"I got hit by a reflected curse, not sure what. The mediwitches say it didn't actually do anything to me, but that thing might never go away!" When Hermione started laughing, he became defensive. "It's not funny! I have a huge green scar on my arm!"
"I think your dating chances have improved," she said as she stood and grabbed her things, still laughing. "Chicks dig scars, remember? Maybe you could get a tattoo and do something with it."
"Yeah, real funny," Ron muttered. He stood up and hugged Hermione for a moment. "Any time you need to get out for a weekend, I'm here."
"Thanks Ron. You take care of yourself. And tell your mum I said hello," she said as she headed for the door to Diagon Alley.
"Of course. Don't forget to owl me about the quidditch match. And don't work too hard either!" he called after her.
She apparated to the outskirts of Hogsmeade and started walking back to Hogwarts. She arrived shortly after and headed straight for the dungeons. Snape had said to come by after lunch, and it was nearly two. She went first to his laboratory rather than his office. Hermione paused outside the door and took a deep breath. She didn't know what to expect from Snape today but she wanted to be calm regardless of his temperament.
She knocked briskly then opened the door before any response. Snape was sitting in a brown leather armchair along the far wall next to a roaring fire. He had been reading something, but he closed the book and looked up sharply at her entrance.
"Professor," he said, his voice low and silky. "I see you took a late lunch."
"Sorry, I was in London," she replied, setting her books down on a free table. "I came straight back."
"Very well. I suppose the most prudent thing would be for you to read my notes thus far."
Snape stood and walked to a desk in a corner. Hermione followed him and stood patiently. He turned to a set of bookshelves behind the desk and proceeded to pull out nine volumes, each approximately a half inch thick. He set them on the desk.
"This is everything from the first time I brewed the potion five years ago."
Hermione picked up the first one and started towards the fire. There was only one armchair, but she didn't want to risk Snape's ire by taking his seat, so she fished around in her pockets until she found a loose button, which she transfigured into a matching armchair. She did not see the tiny smile that touched Snape's lips for an instant. As she began reading, he moved to the gently simmering potion. Engrossed in his meticulous notes, she did not notice him examining the books she had bought in London.
"Extending the Life of Your Potions?" Snape asked with a slight sneer.
"What? Oh, that. I was interested in reading on extenders. I played around with my own and wanted to compare notes." She watched him with curiosity as he looked at the book. "You can read it if you'd like."
Snape returned to the empty armchair with the book. The room was silent as they both read. After an hour, Hermione was on third volume, and Snape was still reading the book on extenders.
"That is strange," he murmured.
"What?" Hermione asked, looking up from the notes.
"This extender uses chimera blood."
"Chimera blood? Let me see, " she said, leaning forward. Snape frowned but handed her the book. "What the --? This is the potion I made for Harry!" His frown deepened, so she continued, "I was having problems keeping it from hardening whenever I would add it to the target potion, so I lowered the amount of dragon scales and added chimera blood."
Snape continued to stare at her, until he finally said, "I have seen this potion before."
"What are you talking about?"
"It was sent to me, early this summer, while I was still working for Voldemort."
Hermione couldn't believe it. "What? How is that possible? This extender never existed until I made it!"
"I do not doubt you. Your extender was not compatible with all potions, and I received a request for assistance in adapting it to polyjuice potion."
"You were requested? By a Death Eater?" When he nodded, Hermione nearly begged, "Who? Who sent it?"
"Draco Malfoy."
___
A/N:
Thanks for all the feedback from ch. 11! I really appreciate it. Sorry to leave you with another cliffhanger -- ok, so I'm not really! -- but it had to be done. Again, please review with thoughts....
Also thanks to everyone who checked out my other fanfic, Subterranean Homesick Potions Master, which will also be updated in the next few days. I don't really have to write anything, just tone it down some and do a little editing.