Title: Artificium Magum
Author: Calliopeia17
Summary: The Slytherins are trying to murder Harry, Hermione has a Magical Theory book that holds all the answers – if she knows where to look, and Snape seems to be putting himself in more and more danger – for what? There's a plot to make Harry immortal, the trials of being Head Girl, and Hermione hates Snape…doesn't she? A novel-length 7th year SS+HG fic.
Rating: Will eventually be R
Pairing: Snape/Hermione
Warnings: Pre-fic character death. Sorry, Draco fans. I don't want to scare anyone away with that, but though this is not yet AU, I'm pretty sure it will be as soon as HBP comes out. There will eventually be teacher/student relationships, obviously non-canon ones, and some violence.
Reviews: Please! Feedback is good!
Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter. That honor belongs to JKR and Warner Bros.
Hermione awoke in the Infirmary, silvery light streaming through the windows and onto the starched sheets. On the nightstand next to her was a box of Chocolate Frogs, with a piece of parchment lying on top. She picked it up and unfolded it, still slightly sleepy.
Dear Hermione,
Harry's handwriting. She glanced down at the signature, which read
From,
Harry (and Ron)
She grinned and started back at the top.
We just wanted to drop you a note (and a present—Ron's idea) to let you know we hope you're feeling better, since it's getting really late and Madam Pomfrey says you won't wake up until morning anyway and she won't let us spend the night here with you. Anyway, we just wanted to say that we're really, really sorry that we weren't watching potion closely and that you got hurt because of it, and we hope very much that you aren't going to hate us for it or anything. Madam Pomfrey says you're going to be fine and that Snape treated the worst of it fast enough that there won't even be any scars, but it looked like it hurt a whole lot and so we're sorry for that.
Anyway, we'll be by to see you tomorrow. Hope you're feeling better. Oh, and Snape said that we should tell you that he's testing the potion tonight, whatever that means, and he'll let you know how it works tomorrow. He said you'd know what he was talking about. This extra-credit thing you're working on? Actually, he sounded almost nice—kept the snarkiness to a minimum. I think it was just because he wanted something from us, though. Anyway, see you tomorrow, and Ron and me are really, really sorry about what happened.
From,
Harry (and Ron)
The sort of fond happiness that Harry and Ron could inspire, Hermione reflected, felt rather like sitting next to a warm bonfire, a sort of happy, glowing, friendship-y feeling. Really, they were just so sweet sometimes—and she had to admit that the Chocolate Frogs were a nice touch. Hermione was reaching over to eat one when it occurred to her that it might be a good idea to check with Madam Pomfrey to make certain it wouldn't interact with any of the potions she might have given her.
Luckily, Madam Pomfrey walked in the door, almost the next instant.
"Oh, you're awake, dear. Good, right on schedule. You can eat that chocolate if you want it; I wouldn't have left it there if it could have done you any harm. And how are you feeling?"
Hermione, thankfully, was used to Madam Pomfrey's brisk attentiveness. "I feel fine. My leg still stings just a little bit—it feels sort of like a mild sunburn."
"Quite normal," the mediwitch pronounced. "That should go away by this evening. You've been excused from classes—" She gestured for Hermione to be quiet at her first sound of protest. "I know you have NEWTs, but you can afford to miss one day of class. I want you to stay here so that I can observe you and make certain there are no further ill reactions. I can ask Mr. Potter and Mr. Weasley to bring your homework, if you would like, and you may do it here. Is that acceptable?"
"That's fine," Hermione replied quickly, unwrapping a Chocolate Frog. "But I still have some questions. I don't exactly remember what happened—Professor Snape carried me here? Was he all right? He didn't get burned by the potion, did he? And when did Harry and Ron come by and leave this?"
"Well, Professor Snape did indeed carry you here; you were barely conscious—I'm surprised you remember that much. You were hurt very badly, Miss Granger. He was not injured at all. Potter and Weasley followed you here; they waited with you until they had to leave for their next class, and then they came back in the evening after dinner with the chocolate for you. They said they would be stopping by after their morning classes, which should be any minute now I would imagine."
There was a knock at the main door of the Infirmary. "That would be them, I would imagine, barring any further Potions accidents," Madam Pomfrey said, bustling towards the door.
Harry and Ron followed her in a minute later, and both of them rushed to her bedside, talking at once.
"Hermione, are you all right? You aren't mad at us—"
"Hermione, we're really, really sorry, and we know we should have been watching the potion—"
Hermione decided interrupting them would probably be the easiest course. "It wasn't your fault! And I'm all right; Madam Pomfrey says I can leave this evening. And I'm really not mad at you—it wasn't anything you did at all; it wasn't your fault the thyme got in there—"
Hermione stopped dead. The thyme. She hadn't thought about it at all as the Potion had been seconds away from exploding. She hadn't thought beyond the fact that the thyme was there, hadn't realized that Potions ingredients, explosive or not, are highly unlikely, even in a magical school, to levitate themselves across the room and into a highly reactive potion…"
"Oh, no," she whispered softly.
"What is it?" Ron asked.
"The thyme," Hermione replied. "Someone was trying to kill Harry."
"What?" Harry asked. "What are you talking about?"
"The thyme—that was what made the potion explode—it levitated itself into the cauldron. I didn't even register it at the time, because I was rather busy with getting you out of the way."
"Hermione," Ron said a bit nervously, "herbs don't just levitate themselves around the school."
"I think that was her point, Ron," Harry replied wryly.
"I think it's our elusive murderer. It must be someone in the class…" Hermione trailed off.
"One of the Slytherins?" Ron suggested.
"Well, the only ones who could plan something like that are Nott and Greengrass, really," Harry pointed out. "Everyone else listens to them."
"But Nott isn't in with Voldemort," Hermione pointed out, "and I honestly think that this is what Daphne was trying to warn me about at the beginning of the year. I can't imagine that she'd warn me about something she was planning on doing."
"Pansy Parkinson or Millicent Bulstrode?" Ron suggested.
"Could be," Harry replied, "but I just don't see them acting on their own."
"Orders from Voldemort, maybe?" Hermione suggested, still unconvinced.
"Maybe, but I don't think so," Harry agreed.
"A Hufflepuff or Ravenclaw?" Hermione wondered.
"What about Snape himself?" Ron said darkly. Hermione glared at him. "Oh, all right. I realize that he saved your life and all that. But I maintain that it doesn't make him any less of a greasy git."
"At any rate, you should tell Professor McGonagall," Hermione advised. "You did promise you'd let her know if anything else strange was going on."
Harry nodded. "I'll tell her after Transfigurations today."
There was a knock on the door. Harry stood up.
"I'll get that, dear," Madam Pomfrey said, hurrying towards the door.
Harry looked up at the ornate clock on the wall. "It's nearly time for us to be in Transfigurations, actually."
"Can you bring me the homework assignments?" Hermione asked.
"Sure," Harry said. 'And from Charms, too?"
"Yes, please," Hermione replied. "Thank you." She grinned. "And have a Chocolate Frog on your way out."
"Don't mind if I do," Ron said, snatching two of them. Harry took one as well.
"Feel better, Hermione," he said, giving her a quick hug, something he did only very, very rarely. Neither of the boys was particularly demonstrative. "We were worried."
"Thanks again, you two. I really appreciate everything."
Madam Pomfrey was bustling towards the bed now. "Miss Granger? Professor Snape is here to speak to you?"
"Right," Hermione said, with something that was not quite a groan. Harry and Ron shot her sympathetic looks.
"See you later, Hermione," Ron said, and the two of them left.
They slid by Snape, who looked strangely hesitant to enter, in the doorway. In the same moment, Hermione realized that she was dressed in only a thin nightgown, and flushed. Strange, really, that it hadn't mattered with Harry and Ron, though, she reflected, they had seen her in pajamas before, and they were most certainly not as imposing, or as non-related to pajamas in Hermione's mind, as Snape.
He looked rather uncomfortable as well, now that she noticed it, refusing to meet her eyes, and, indeed, looking everywhere except at her.
"Miss Granger," he said brusquely, looking carefully at a spot above her head, "I came to report on the test of your potion."
"Did it work?" Hermione asked, feeling her heart start racing, just as it did when a teacher was handing back exams or homework grades, with a rush of adrenaline and anticipation.
"No," he said bluntly, and Hermione felt her heart sink. "I tested it on a rat first, which sustained mild aether burns. It provided some protection—the burns were mild but still not at a safe level to test the potion on a human."
"It should have worked," Hermione muttered a bit petulantly.
"It should have," Snape agreed, and Hermione looked up sharply. "I looked over your notes several times before I realized what the problem was."
"And…" Hermione asked.
"Did you consider the way that stirring the potion widdershins would be affected by using a rowan stirring rod?"
Hermione thought for a moment, then her mouth dropped open. "The rowan's ability to counter magic would have negated some of the effect of the direction of the stirring, wouldn't it?"
Snape nodded. "Precisely. The potion still maintained much of its protective ability, because of the St. John's Wort you added earlier, but the full potency was affected by that reaction. Even so, much as I hate to admit it, Miss Granger, it was well done."
Hermione barely even registered the compliment. Her mind was racing. "How can I introduce both the effects of the rowan and the stirring without them counteracting each other?" she asked aloud.
Snape, almost imperceptibly, rolled his eyes. "I thought about it, and the best solution I could come up with was to use the rowan rod until the very end, then add the dragon's blood and stir it with—"
"Iron," Hermione interrupted.
Snape nodded in agreement, with a strange sort of masked expression. "That will provide nearly the same level of magical protection as the rowan, but it should not react with the stirring of the potion." He paused. "Will you be out of the Infirmary in time to brew a new potion tomorrow evening?"
"Yes, sir. That should be fine. Same time?"
Snape nodded distractedly. He still hadn't met Hermione's eyes.
She took a deep breath. "Sir, I wanted to thank you for saving me yesterday." There was a silence. "I just wanted you to know I appreciated it."
"Miss Granger, it is my duty as a Professor at the school to protect you."
"I know," Hermione replied, "but I'm grateful for it all the same."
"You're—you're welcome, Miss Granger." He turned faintly pink. "And do try to take more care in the future. Why you would put thyme in a reactive stage—" He broke off. "WHAT?" he roared. Apparently the actual events of the previous day hadn't yet registered with him, either. "You put THYME in—"
I didn't!" Hermione exclaimed, cutting him off. "Honestly! You know full well that I know better than that. It levitated itself in!"
"It—what?" Snape asked, looking befuddled.
"I think the same person who was trying to kill Harry before enchanted it to drop into the cauldron when we looked away," Hermione explained hastily.
"Miss Granger, that's a very serious charge," Snape pointed out.
"Well, I certainly didn't try to kill myself!" Hermione snapped indignantly. Snape smiled faintly. "Harry's going to tell Professor McGonagall after class today."
"Very well," Snape said, and finally looked down at Hermione. He blushed almost imperceptibly, but didn't look away. Suddenly Hermione was very aware of how thin the fabric of the nightgown was, and just how much of the swell of her breasts was visible. She felt her heart start to flutter uncomfortably again. "Miss Granger," he said quickly, "please be careful. Jumping in front of Potter was the typically foolhardy sort of response I'd expect from a Gryffindor, but I want to see you think, Miss Granger, not just act. Sometimes," he said, and it didn't exactly sound as if he were talking to Hermione anymore, "I wonder who would be in my House if the Sorting Hat put Muggleborns in."
"I wouldn't have been," Hermione said almost without thinking. "I practically made the Hat put me in Gryffindor—it wanted Ravenclaw but I read before I came that most of the really, really famous wizards were in Gryffindor. I wouldn't have let it put me anywhere else."
"This said," Snape replied, looking oddly as though he wanted to both laugh and weep, "with the pure unadulterated ambition of a Slytherin. Get some rest, Miss Granger, and finish some of you schoolwork, and I shall see you tomorrow evening at eight."
He spun around and left the hospital wing, robes billowing behind him. Madam Pomfrey bustled over. "Now, dear, you ought to rest a bit more. Mr. Potter and Mr. Weasley should be by later with your classwork."
Hermione shrugged. She didn't particularly want to sleep, but she shut her eyes and lost herself in thought. Snape had been decidedly non-confrontational, had even plied her with several comments bordering on the complimentary. She wondered if he had meant to compliment her by comparing her to a Slytherin, as well. It seemed the sort of thing he would do. At any rate, they now had a solid plan to make the potion work correctly, and she couldn't wait to get started on it.
Hermione found herself, as she let her mind wander, beginning to feel quite sleepy—perfectly normal, really, for having just undergone some fairly serious magical healing. She didn't bother fighting sleep; instead, she just let herself drift off, wondering, as she did so, what in the world had possessed her to reveal even the slightest of personal confidence to Snape—'I practically made the Hat put me in Gryffindor' indeed. As if he would even care. She fell asleep halfway through the thought.
Notes to Reviewers:
Jessie Deal: Thanks very much! Well, I wouldn't say I exactly have a background in biology or chemistry, I have taken a few higher-level courses. I'm actually an English major, though. And actually what you'll find is that most of the plants/animals/reactions I describe have some sort of basis in literary symbolism, or at least have some sort of meaning.
Magic and sparkle: Thanks! Hermione will be ok- after all she's gotten through being Petrified, being partially turned into a cat, you name it!
Dafina: Thank you so, so much! I'm tryng to make Hermione the way I see her- sort of a bookworm like me, but braver and with a bit more of a temper. And Snape, is, well, Snape. And as for your comment about the cursing, I left exactly what he said blank because it's so much more fun to imagine! It's interesting that you said that, though, because what I imagined wasn't the f word.
Annon: Thanks for reading!
Caeria: Thanks! If you keep reading, you'll find out!
Duchessofpower: Thanks muchly! J
Brittany Malfoy: Thanks! Yeah, Snape's pretty nasty, but I think after what happened he's going to understand Hermione a little bit better.
Lone Magnolia: Thanks for reading! I try to get about a chapter done per week- but I hope you'll let me know if your theories come true!
Coliemcnoly: Thanks for reading, and glad to know you like it!