A/N: Sorry about the previous double posting of chapter one. I have fixed it. Here is the real chapter two. Thanks for all the reviews. If it is hard to read it is because the site messed up my formatting so bear with it. Some of these ideas I borrowed from Serpentina, so if you like read her stuff and thanks for the inspiration. Read on.
! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! !Chapter 2: A Bat in His Dungeon! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! !Shortly after dinner, the trio of friends returned to the Gryffindor common room. Falling into their favorite chairs in front of the roaring fire, they relaxed after what seemed to be a never-ending day. While Hermione searched through her bad for her Arithmancy homework, Harry and Ron exchanged uneasy looks. They broached the matter, which had been on both their minds since potions class that morning, just as she pulled out parchment and the huge volume of A Guide to Beginners Arithmancy. Ron nodded to Harry to start. Harry, after glaring at Ron for making him ask first, resentfully turned to Hermione. "Would you care to explain you action this morning?" he paused, noticing that his tone reminded him very much of McGonagall's whenever they got in trouble. "Tell me it was only lack of sleep or temporary insanity."Surprised at this sudden attack, she set the book on top of her bag, hesitating for a long while before she replied, "I...I just...just wanted to know why. I was getting sick of him staring at me for no reason. It might have been a little stupid of me to have asked him in front of the whole class though; a bit like shining a light on a bat in its cave." At this she yawned, and, stretching thoughtfully, she added, "I have been really tired. Maybe that's what made me do it."
The two boys shared a look of relief. "At least we know you haven't gone off the deep end then," Ron proclaimed. Looking at the gigantic tome sitting on her lap, he said, "You should think of dropping some of your classes. You'll never get enough sleep if you are always doing schoolwork. You need to lighten up."
Seeing that Hermione was going to say something, and from the look on her face it wasn't going to be anything nice, Harry quickly spoke to counter his red-headed friend's tactlessness saying, "What this idiot is trying to say is that we are worried about you. We just want you to be okay. I mean, I mean, you are okay, right?" Concern was written on his handsome feature.
Biting back a retort to Ron's comments about her studying too much, she looked at Harry and her anger faded. It was always hard to stay angry when Harry put on his most charmingly desperate face. "Yes, I'm alright. I just need a little sleep. I promise I will try to take things easier. I will just finish this number chart and go to bed, okay?" she said, picking up her book again and flipping to the appropriate page. Not quite reassured by her answer, the two boys nodded affirmative and started to play a rousing game of Wizard's Chess.! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! !Despite the fire roaring in the hearth, the private rooms of the Slytherin Head of House were still very chilly, as were the rest of the dungeons. The grey-stone walls were covered with heavy tapestries of dark greens, black and silvers. The furnishings were of the highest quality ebony with dark mahogany inlays. Silver Ever-Burning Candles lent to the dim light in the large underground chambers. On the eastern facing wall there was a window that reflected the view of as if from a second story rather than the dirt that it would have revealed hat it been a true opening. The sun was setting brilliantly in colors of gold, red, and purple. All were the least favorite colors of the man sitting in front of this remarkable window. Severus Snape hated red for all that it represented in his mind: passion, anger, blood, love, and Gryffindor. All of those things went through his mind every time her chanced to look at it. That color represented his memories of her, for all of those things could be applied to her memory.
His beloved.
His Elizabeth.
She had been a new transfer student in his seventh year attending Hogwarts. For some reason she seemed to like him, where others, including fellow Slytherins, shunned him. Friendship bloomed, and soon after loved followed. Never before and never again had he ever encountered someone who had the ability to reach into his core, touch his heart like she had, no one had ever tried.
She saved him, but he could not save her. He had been helpless in saving his beloved from the Death Eaters. They had killed her because she refused give him up as a boyfriend. It was because of them.Never again would she wear those glorious scarlet robes that she wore on their first date. Never again would he kiss her dark red lips, tasting their sweetness. He would never love another. That was why he hated, and loved, the color red.
As to the other, gold reminded him of the highlights in her hair, the flecks of gold in her eyes, and the purity and goodness of her heart. Purple, on the other hand, was just a horrid color altogether. Sybil Trelawney wore purple. He shuddered at the very thought of the horrid woman. She was always hovering around like a giant insect, predicting his death and acting as if she were not connected to the rest of the world. Damn all women! They only cause pain, he thought bitterly. With that he turned away from the now dark landscape and returned to grading the painfully incorrect essays written by second years, in red ink.! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! !She heard the faint call of "Hermione," as if from a long distance away. It came again, but this time much louder. Soon the call was accompanied with a rough shake of her shoulder. She jerked awake just as Ron was shouting a loud "Hermione!" in her ear. Giving him a disgruntled look and rubbing her offended ear, she snapped, "What?"
With a slightly panicked look he replied, "It's two minutes to seven. You're going to be late." She gave him a slightly confused look. "Your detention with Snape, remember?"
With sudden realization, she mumbled a quick thanks to Ron, grabbed her wand and scrambled through the portrait-hole entrance out of the common room.
She ran through the halls to the dungeons as fast as she possibly could. She knew before she got there that it was no use. She had gotten caught on two different moving staircases. She knew she was late. That meant a week of detention with the greasy black bat in the dungeon. Not that she would ever call him that out loud to anyone. Reaching the heavy wooden door, she stopped to catch her breath. Gathering her Gryffindor courage, she entered the potion master's office.
He had his back turned to the door, but he heard it open. Without looking to confirm that it was she who entered, he said, "You're late. That makes it a week of detention and twenty points from Gryffindor. I told you to be on time, Miss Granger." He turned to see how she was taking this proclamation Seeing that she just stood there calmly waiting, he felt a little put out that she didn't react in the customary fashion of nearly- crying or rash outbursts of anger like so many of her age were known to do. "You will be cleaning all of the workstations without magic," he told her severely, turning sharply to make his way back to his seat, folds of black cloth swirling around him. "To make sure you do not cheat you will leave your wand on my desk." With that, he said a quiet accio, which sent her wand flying into his waiting hand. "You may retrieve it when you are finished. Start now."
Turning to do as she was told, she silently fumed to herself. Does he realize how dirty those tables are? Of course he does. That's why her told you to do it, she thought resentfully. Honestly though, without magic. I'll be here for hours. There wasn't even a real reason for me to have this detention, let alone a weeks worth. I'll never get my homework done. With a resigned sigh she filled a bucket with cleaning potion and grabbed a scouring pad and began to work.
While waiting for the potion he was working on to set, he graded the abysmal essays of his first year class. Occasionally he glanced up to make sure the girl wasn't slacking off. He reprimanded himself for putting himself in this position. How am I supposed to forget about her when I have the girl around as a constant reminder? The answer is to avoid the girl, so what do I do, give her a week of detention, where I have to see her, he thought bitterly. How very wise of you, Severus. He was starting to regret his rash reaction to her question. He would just have to deal with it and hope to avoid her in the future.
Noticing that she was done, he handed her wand to her and dismissed her, telling her to return the same time on Monday night. As the door to the dungeon closed, he felt a strange twinge, as if his heart regretted her leaving.! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! !Still slightly exhausted from last week classes and detention, Hermione proceeded down to the dungeon for her second detention. This time she was five minutes early just to be sure that she wouldn't prolong the torture with the bat in his dungeon. She knocked on the door and waited for the barked "Enter."
Upon entering, she once again found herself waiting silently in front of his desk to be told what menial boring task she would be doing tonight. I'll probably be scrubbing all the spare cauldrons without magic or something equally mundane and painful, she thought ruefully.
He heard her enter the room and was aware of her standing silently in front of him. He felt like annoying her, so he continued correcting his papers and let her stand there for a few minutes. Surprised at her ability to wait and a little irked at her lack of reaction to his treatment of her, he finally looked up and decided they should get on with the task. "At least you were on time, Miss Granger. Don't just stand there. There is work to be done," he said in a reprimanding tone.
She let out a slight exasperated sigh.
To her amazement he said, "You will be assisting me in brewing a potion. This should take the rest of the week. Come, we will be working in my private workroom. Don't touch anything unless I tell you to." With that he turned swiftly towards a bookcase behind his desk. At first she thought he was going to get a book that contained the potion, but when he pulled on a book the selves slid to the left revealing a large, brightly lit workroom.
Walls of shelves filled with every magical potion ingredient possible greeted her eyes. Polished cauldrons of every size and make were neatly organized next to carefully balanced scales. This made regular classes look like child's play. She had been here before but hadn't really taken the time to look around. Her eyes positively shone with the possibilities.
He saw the look of complete rapture on her face at the prospect of working with these substances. His heart gave a slight pang at the memory of another girl who had had that same look once. He turned to gather his cauldron, mortar and pestle, and grating knife, berating himself for bringing up such thoughts. He gruffly told the girl which ingredients to collect, impatiently deciphering his organization code for her. He was not used to relying on someone else when working on a private project. He had devised the code after several unusual ingredients were stolen last year. It was very difficult to figure out unless you knew where it was as he did.
Once she had the ingredients, he had her start shredding and chopping the more innocuous substances, while her began the base water boiling above the green flames. He gathered the more finicky and dangerous ingredients himself. Unnoticed by her professor, she watched him take down various jars. Noticing certain substances forbidden to students and even the public, she asked, "What potion are we making, sir?"
Startled out of his thoughts, he set down the jars, before raking hand through his hair. "I will not tell you," he replied, contempt written in his tone. "For all you professed knowledge, you should be able to discover what it is. Ask again when you have figured it out, and maybe I will tell you. Until then, add the armadillo bile and the shredded shrivelfig. It must sit for ten minutes before adding the powdered bicorn horn."
Hermione, used to these types of comments and his curt orders, just bit back the retort on her tongue and did as she was told. Fifteen minutes of silence passed, where only the sound of chopping knives, grinding pestles and the bubbling of the cauldron could be heard. Finally, Snape turned to the girl standing next to him. "Add the dragon scales," he commanded. "Then you can go. Return her same time tomorrow." This said, he returned to shredding the moonflower blossoms. She gathered the crushed scales and dumped them carefully into the sky-blue potion and watched as it began to smoke and turn an eye-smarting shad of red-orange.
Gathering her things, she turned to go. To his surprise, he heard a soft "Goodnight, Professor" as the door shut. It had been a long time since anyone had wished him goodnight. Dismissing the strange feeling it gave him to think about it, he settled the potion for the night and returned to grading essays.! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! !A/N: In future chapters the rating may change to PG-13 so please take that into consideration if you are part of the younger audience. Hope you like it so far. Chapter 3 should be coming soon. Thanks again to EnsignAbby for the help. Please review.
