Losing Sleep

By DistinctVagueness

Chapter 6

The last week of February quickly passed into March. Hermione found, to her satisfaction, that Professor Snape in no way acknowledged the end of her 'trial period', remaining as impassive as he'd ever been. On the third evening that she was summoned to his office, he told her clearly on which nights she would be required. Surprisingly, he didn't demand her assistance every night, as she'd imagined, but only gave her instructions for four nights a week, leaving her weekend free for studying. Hermione did her homework after dinner and settled into her new schedule well. Of course, routine suited her.

Though the hours weren't exactly strenuous, Snape put her attendance to good use and she rarely found herself unoccupied while in the Potions classroom.

When half an hour remained on Thursday night, Hermione got up from her seat at one of the desks and went about her usual task with a thick notebook and a quill. The notebook was the student ingredient inventory and now had a few pages filled with Hermione's small and sometimes scrawled lettering. She went along the shelf, taking down jars, checking on the contents and emptying those that were no longer suitable for use. At each jar, she would make a comment in the notebook as to its current status.

As most of the ingredients had been replenished a few days before, when she reached the end of the shelf, Hermione only had to refill the large jar reading 'Bicorn, powdered horn of'.

Carrying it with her, Hermione crossed over to the door leading to the small storeroom that contained ingredients for student use. She turned the handle and let out an indistinct noise at the back of her throat. Typical. He'd left it locked again. Snape knew perfectly well that she'd probably need access to the room on a Thursday.

Hermione looked reluctantly at the other door that led to his office. She'd have to get the key from him, or risk being berated for failing to do her job properly. She went to knock softly on the door with no enthusiasm. She was tired and simply wanted to get this over with, so she could do her Head Girl duties and return to Gryffindor Tower.

Patiently, Hermione waited either for the door to be pulled open with a customary scowl or a sharp 'enter!' to be issued.

There was neither.

Frowning slightly, Hermione knocked again, only to be greeted by silence. Tentatively, she turned the handle and slowly pushed the door inwards.

"Professor?" she announced herself, peering around the doorframe, before stepping into the room when there was no answer. The office was silent and empty, but yet, it was not completely devoid of his presence. Snape's territory was clearly marked by the dark wooden panelling on the walls, matched by both his floor and his desk, which was currently an organised mess. There wasn't an inch of space to be had on it, but everything already placed there was in some sort of order. Hermione felt a little uneasy, a trespasser, as if Professor Snape was lurking in some shadowed corner watching her every move and ready to strike when the mood took him. Of course, she reminisced, that was not altogether unlikely given his character.

Suddenly, this train of thought urged Hermione to leave. She quickly looked around for the storeroom key. The small, bronze item wasn't atop his desk, obscured by unmarked papers, nor was it lying upon a shelf or cupboard. Biting her lip, Hermione turned back towards the classroom. Something caught her eyes. Behind the open door hung a heavy green curtain. It was pulled across and though she'd known it was there previously, what was behind it had never been questioned. Curious, Hermione set the empty jar beside the papers on his desk and moved towards it, pushing the material aside a little, in order to go through.

The space the curtain concealed was inundated in darkness, since only a little light could escape from the next room. Squinting, Hermione could see a candle mounted on the opposite wall. Careful not to trip on some unseen obstacle, she made her way across to it and brought out her wand to light it. Immediately, the room was bathed in a warm, flickering glow.

Hermione turned and felt her breath hitch. She was standing in a long, narrow room. The walls could barely be seen as shelves and shelves of books took up every inch. A little awed at the amount of pages this room must contain, Hermione began to walk forward. There was a thick rug on the stone, running the length of the shelves.

She looked a little closer at the books. There were a great deal of Potions texts, which was only to be expected, but there were many other magical books to be read, hardbacks, paperbacks, theory journals, all in various letterpresses and colours.

What surprised her was that the majority of the books on these shelves weren't magical theory, or even wizarding fiction. There was a huge selection of Muggle works on the shelves too, beginning with textbooks on subjects such as Maths or Physics, progressing onto books of poetry and novels. There were some first editions, including a fine copy of J.R.R Tolkien's Silmarillion, and she was rather amused to find several well-thumbed Terry Pratchett paperbacks, her father's favourite author.

With her finger running along the spines, Hermione traced a path back to the Potions books and gently pulled out 'Potion Reversal: Accidental Discoveries' by Arnolde Rynwalde. Seemingly forgetting where she was, Hermione began to browse through the pages.

-

Severus was already immensely irritated when he opened the door to the Potions classroom, and the fact that his assistant had adjourned her duties five minutes before she was permitted to, didn't serve towards alleviating his mood. Granger had also left his inventory notebook lying open on a desk, her quill forgotten beside it. The classroom was silent and there was no clue as to what had led to her departure. Then his eyes alighted upon his office door. It was open.

Granger.

Lips thinned and eyes narrowed, Severus strode through the rows of desks to the back of the room and into the office. His black gaze swept the room only to find that the Head Girl wasn't to be seen. Suspicious as to how someone would take the trouble to sneak into his rooms and then do something as careless as to leave the door wide open, an obvious sign of their visit, Severus scanned his desk. Nothing was missing.

But that jar certainly hadn't been there before…leading something else to draw Severus's gaze. The curtain behind the open door was slightly drawn. His once angry footfalls were softened as he began to walk into the adjoining room.

His questions were all answered at the small brunette he found there. Granger. How typical that she'd ended up in here of all places. He kept his mouth shut as he watched her, letting the anticipation build before he announced his presence.

The Head Girl was at the far left of the room, completely oblivious to his being there. Her eyes were flying over the many Muggle titles there with a slight expression of surprise. Severus watched as she took down a well-read paperback and frowned when he saw her lips turn up slightly in amusement.

He stepped back into the darker corner of the room as she began to trace her way back along the books, finally stopping to pull one off the shelves. He stiffened slightly at the text she held in her small hands. It was a rather expensive book and he was prepared to pull it from her at the slightest sign of her manhandling it.

Instead, Granger allowed her hands to skim the cover of the book before gently opening it. She began to read and before long Severus began to suspect he could yell for all he was worth before catching her attention. He studied the expression on her face. It was not what he had expected. Granted, Granger was a certified bookworm but he had always wondered whether she took the entirety of her knowledge from books, or whether she ever paused to actually feel what she was learning. He had always inferred that it was the former, but now…

The look on her face wasn't pure concentration, she surely wasn't attempting to memorise the words there. It was part absorption, and part something else. It wasn't the look of someone who was enamoured, but a similar adjective would do.

Realising he had been observing her for longer than necessary, he cleared his throat.

The Gryffindor jumped a mile and whirled around, clutching the book to her chest before it fell to the floor. "Professor!" She stared at him guiltily.

"Tell me, Miss Granger, how did you find yourself to be in this room?"

"I…er…the key!" she told him, with the air of a naughty child with her hand caught in the biscuit tin. He cocked one eyebrow.

"Do at least try to defend yourself logically."

She swallowed. "I was looking for you, sir. I needed the key to the storeroom."

"And you expected to find it between the pages of these books?"

She lowered her eyes at that. "I'm sorry, sir. I shouldn't have intruded."

"Indeed you shouldn't have. Your curiosity inevitably seems to be your downfall at every turn, Miss Granger."

Hermione waited for the punishment to fall. None came. She dared to meet Snape's eyes as he spoke again.

"I realise that we agreed upon only four nights a week, Miss Granger but I have to call upon your assistance tomorrow night."

"Sir?" she questioned.

"I have something to attend to outside of the castle and there will be a potion I will not be able to oversee during that time. I will leave everything you need in the classroom. You will simply have to follow the instructions that I put out for you."

Hermione nodded, a little taken aback at his request of her assistance with a potion. Her responsibilities had only ever involved ingredients and cleaning up.

"Ensure that my classroom is rid of your presence by ten o' clock." The warning tone in his voice was far more familiar that what she was being asked to do. "Understood?"

"Yes, sir."

"Very well, Miss Granger. Goodnight." He looked to the opposite room, indicating that she should leave. Hermione couldn't help taking a wistful look at the books she left behind her as she started to walk past him.

Snape obviously caught it because he rolled his eyes in a typical fashion. "Oh, for Merlin's sake." He strode over to the shelf she had been standing at and ran his finger along the titles until finding what it was he wanted. He pulled out a book and handed it to her. Hermione read the title, to find that it was the same as she had been perusing earlier, only the cover was worn and she could see that some of the pages had been folded back.

"I expect that to be on my desk by Monday's lesson."

Hermione raised her eyes from the book's cover. "Sir…why do you have two copies of the same book? Are they different editions?"

Snape gave her a look that suggested that she was testing his patience. "No. I confess I keep the one you were so eager to examine purely for its aesthetic value."

"Oh." Hermione shifted its weight to under her arm. "Thank you…sir."

"Unnecessary. Now get out."

Deciding not to say anymore, she wasted no time in pushing past the curtain and escaping his office.

It was only when she closed the door of the classroom behind her that she realised he hadn't subtracted house points or even given her a detention for her misconduct, which had been the least she was expecting.

-

On Friday night, Hermione entered the Great Hall, her gaze directed to the Gryffindor table and was surprised to find only Ron sitting there out of her friends, calmly helping himself to the tureen of peas by his plate. She made her way over and sat on the opposite side of the table.

"Hi." Ron smiled as he picked up his fork and began to eat.

"Hey," Hermione replied before taking the top off the nearest dish. The delicious smell of a casserole began to rise into the air and she started to spoon a generous portion of it onto her plate. "Where are Harry and Ginny?"

"Ginny's been and gone," Ron informed her. " And Harry…well, he's up in our room again." The relaxed expression on his face had changed now as he regarded his friend. She matched his concerned look. "Do you think he's sick?" he asked.

Hermione considered this. "It can't be," she said slowly. "He's been getting worse since Christmas and he hasn't said he feels ill or anything. I know Harry isn't big on sympathy, but even he'd admit if he was feeling sick." She paused and looked at him decisively. "No, it isn't to do with being ill."

"Then it's what I wished it wasn't, isn't it?" Ron's eyes betrayed his real worry.

Hermione nodded. "Harry…he thinks he's alone in all of this. If he'd just talk to us…"

"He's been reading a lot, you know," Ron told her. "And it's not about the N.E.W.T's. He keeps going down to the library and he's always returning with some Defence book or another. At first I thought it was for the DA, but now… " Ron trailed off with uncertainty. "Hermione, he doesn't talk about Quidditch anymore, except in team practice."

Hermione raised an eyebrow. "Not everything is about Quidditch, Ron."

Ron made a face. "I know that-"

"But Harry usually doesn't…" finished Hermione quietly.

Both sat in silence for a few minutes and she began her meal. Suddenly, it couldn't go down fast enough. Reluctant to spend any more time in the worried quiet, she picked an apple from the fruit bowl and went to stand up.

"I'll see you later," she told Ron who was only halfway through his dinner.

"Where are you off to?"

"I need to watch a potion for Professor Snape while he's out. I'll be back after ten."

Ron shook his head in amused exasperation. "Hermione, it's Friday! This assistant job, or whatever it is, sucks up your free time enough as it is without Snape making you work on the weekend too. "

Hermione rolled her eyes at Ron's expected reaction. "And I usually have such an active social life."

"Oh, come on, 'Mione," Hermione frowned at the nickname. "Seamus has some Butterbeer up in the room, or we could go out to the Quidditch pitch." Ron smiled hopefully at her; probably thinking the offer was irresistible.

Hermione shook her head, She knew exactly what Ron's intentions could lead to and she wasn't about to encourage his feelings. For a time, she'd hoped to have something new with him, but quickly realised that it wasn't for her. Ron would always be the boy she'd met on the train in her first year, if taller and a little more articulate. That wasn't enough for her.

She shook her head. "See you later, Ron." Ignoring his disappointed look, she went on her way out of the Great Hall, only stopping to glance up at the High Table. One place was empty. Snape must have already left, giving her more of a reason to hurry down the steps to the dungeons and get on with her task.

Hermione didn't notice the same look being thrown to the staff table by a blonde Slytherin and she certainly wouldn't have guessed the reason behind it.

A/N: Thanks for the enthusiastic response. I saw PofA on Monday and it got me in the mood to update, but my computer wasn't as eager as I was, typically, so this chapter is a little late in the posting. The pace of the plot will pick up a little from the next chapter.

JustJeanette- It is a bit of a cliché plot line, which I recognise but I'm glad you like my spin on it. Thanks for the review.

Claire Rickman- First of all- I love your e-mail address and very much agree with it ;¬) Thanks for the sweet review, I'm glad you like it so far.

Ezmerelda- I'm glad you kept reading. Don't worry, I couldn't have too many 'conflicting feelings' without Draco getting in the way, which would deflect from his purpose here. Thanks for stopping by.

M'cha Araem- Hmm. I recognise Charlie Sheen from when I used to watch Spin City. Dr. Perry? Does he make fun of the guy who's the main character? Think I know who you mean.

Yes, it was a bit of a filler, but I thought it necessary. The plot will pick up again next chapter. I needed to 'set the scene' a little. Thanks for your review.

Embattledcurve- I didn't realise I'd made a slight pun until I re-read it : ) Hermione isn't 'obsessively compulsive', she just had the time on her hands and thought she might as well make a perfect job of it. I also wanted to compare the two of them, have a little quirk they share. Thanks for the review.

DistinctVagueness