Disclaimer:
Snape: "Darling, where are my trousers?"
Hermione: "We burned them last night."
Snape: "…Oh yes."
JK: looks up from newspaper, and stares
Snape: "Was that before or after the Hippogriff ride?"
Hermione: "After. Remember we had to let the poor beast rest-"
Snape: "-because we rode the bollocks off of him."
Hermione: "Yes."
Snape: Yes."
JK: glares viciously
Hermione: bites lip
Snape: "And they were burned because I-"
JK: "No!"
Snape: "Because I was-"
JK: "I said NO!"
Snape: "….I spent myself in them."
JK: blows up "I fcking said NO!"
Hermione: cracks up
Snape: smirk
Touchstone
Chapter fourteen
ByGin
The day after Snape had received the invitation to his mother's birthday celebration he had been feeling ill. His stomach felt weak and no amount of medicine seemed to help. He'd found all sorts of odd jobs to entertain his mind with including re-arranging his entire stock of potions and ingredients, casting Spells to clean all the utensils, and even hand washing and polishing his personal cauldrons. He'd gone over his Herbal planner to remind himself when certain plants needed to be harvested and which ones needed to be boiled or jarred or set outside to soak in the Moon's silver light. He was doing anything to keep his mind from the eminent meeting. It had been years since he'd seen his parents, let alone be in the same room with the entire family together at the same time. He was dreading it. There was no other word for it. This was one of the reasons why he sat in his huge leather chair one night, staring into the cold grate of the fireplace, listening to Beethoven's "Moonlight Sonata."
The fingers of his right hand mimicked the keys of the piano notes to the Sonata, while his left hand firmly held onto a glass of Ogden's Old Firewhiskey. He bobbed his head in time with his right hand as if he were sitting at a piano playing the melody.
"I don't want to go," he said to the empty fireplace and took another healthy swig of the whiskey. The alcohol had won the battle that night.
"Then don't," he answered for the fireplace.
"But if I don't, they'll complain, and once s'again I'll be the bad guy," Snape slurred. The fireplace remained silent.
"You're weak." Snape straightened in his seat, spilling a little of the amber liquid out of the glass and glared.
"Say that again," his deep voice purred dangerously.
"I said you're weak."
Snape stood up drunkenly. "You know, I'm relatively good at keeping my temperr, but I'mapt to leddit go tonight."
He took a menacing step towards the inanimate fireplace. "You're all talk, Snape."
"Talk! You think so? I've done things that would probally make yer…stones curl!" Now he was waving his arms around sloshing all the whiskey out of the glass and onto the stone floor. He took more heavy steps towards the hearth. "I've done things that any right person would, should, kill th'mselves over. All talk…" and he downed the remaining drops before throwing the glass at the fireplace. It shattered satisfyingly in the grate and Snape smirked.
"Oh bollocks, you're just a fireplace anyway…"
He clumsily returned to his chair and the Ogden's bottle when the sonata ended. Snape dropped to his chair and flicked his hand, starting the song over. He really loved that song. He began wondering about past lives and that if he were anyone it would have been Beethoven, when a timid knock sounded at his front door.
"No v'sitors," he slurred in the doorway's general direction. The knock sounded again, a bit more forcefully.
Snape growled and repeated, "No. Visitors." This time the knocking became louder and Snape winced and hauled his drunken arse out of the chair to walk as gracefully to the front entrance as he could.
When he repaired the broken vase on the polished wood entry table he fiercely unlocked the doors and glared at whoever was standing there.
"What the bloody hell do you want!" he said without really looking. "I thought I sai-"
"Nice to see you too, Severus." Hermione stood with her arms folded in front of him. He blinked and scowled at her before mimicking her stance, but leaning more against the doorjamb.
"Yes?" his honeyed voice replied.
Hermione noticed the definite smell of liquor and took a step back. "I couldn't sleep."
Indeed, Severus noticed she was wearing pyjamas beneath that red robe. His poor intoxicated mind was working furiously, trying to figure out exactly what that meant and he knit his brows, confused.
"I'm sorry?" He was desperately trying to sober himself.
"I said I couldn't sleep."
He stood there for a moment, then licked his lips cautiously. "And?"
Hermione fidgeted with her foot against a prominent stone on the floor to release some of her nervous energy. "I was just wondering if you'd come up with another way to try that solution we made for Harry. I've been thinking about it all day, and since I hadn't seen much of you today I was wondering if you'd had any other thoughts on how we should approach it." She shifted her stance and tucked a strand of hair behind her ear.
Snape stared at it, confused again. "No."
Hermione suddenly felt very inadequate standing out in the darkened corridor. She inhaled and waited for him to finish his sentence. But when it was apparent that was all he was going to say she opened her mouth to respond.
"No," began Snape instead. "I have not, Miss Granger." He stared at her parted lips. "I do have other things to take care of you realise."
She watched him for a moment and shifted hips, nervously. "Oh. Well I know that, I'm sorry. I just thought we would- but never mind. I'm sorry, I'll let you go back to…doing whatever you were doing."
"Yes." Snape cocked his head slightly.
"Excuse me?" she asked, confused.
"Yes, thank you." He flashed a forced grin and straightened up. Hermione looked confused but shook her head, when the music in his rooms changed from the "Moonlight" to "Piano Concerto No. 5."
"Is that, Beethoven playing in your rooms?" Hermione leaned forward to see behind him into his chambers. Snape swallowed the lump in his throat as a tantalising peek of flesh from her chest appeared behind the robe when she leant forwards.
"Yes. I was doing some thinking, and he's good for that." He pressed his dry tongue to the roof of his mouth, trying to dampen it.
"Really? 'Emperor' is one of my favourites by him. When I was a child, Mum," she swallowed at the memory, "enrolled me in piano lessons. And I would go upstairs to my room and play it on my stereo, thinking I could one day play as good as that." She smiled sadly. Snape just watched her quietly. "I've given piano up. I suppose it's been a good few years' now. I do miss it though. Do you play?"
Snape's head snapped up at the question and he regarded her thoughtfully. "A little. I barely have time for such things anymore. What with lesson planning, meetings…the many detentions…more meetings…." He sighed at his obviously un-interesting life.
The music went silent for a moment before starting up again with a quiet piano. Hermione smiled at him. "Are you sure you're alright tonight?" Snape had been staring peacefully at the gape in her robe again, before shaking his head at yet another question.
"What? Yes." He scowled. "Is there anything else you wanted?" His voice became harsher and she folded her arms again. Snape knew it to be an unconscious result of her defending herself. Learning to read body language had been crucial to him during his days as an active Death Eater. He backed off a bit. She looked at him a little hurt. "It's been a long day," he said for an excuse.
"Yes," she sighed. "The past week has been a little trying." The piano went silent again for a moment after the furious keying, and Hermione looked at the floor. "Well, I suppose I'll leave you alone. We can continue tomorrow if you'd like." She looked up into his dark eyes, which were beginning to look sleepy, and she privately noted how almost "cute" he looked when he was drowsy.
The music started up loud and hurried with an orchestra accompanying the Coda, and Snape cleared his throat and looked back to her face.
"Very well. Goodnight, Miss Granger." She smiled, shaking her head, and turned to go back up to her rooms, when Snape stopped and called out to her.
"Hermione?"
She stopped and turned around to look at him. "Yes?"
"I was wondering…say if this is a bad- obviously you don't have to, but if it-" he growled, and she cocked her head a little to the side. "Oh, never mind. Goodnight," and he hastily shut his door.
She stood out in the chilly dungeons perplexed, before shrugging and, grinning to herself, walked up the stairs to her rooms in Gryffindor Tower.
Snape stalked back to his chair, the whiskey and the silent fireplace. He glared at it while the "Ode to Joy" began with its deep, powerful cellos.
"What do you know," he smirked at the fireplace and placed the cork back in the Ogden's bottle and stopped the music. He turned towards his bedroom chambers before saying, "I'll ask her tomorrow then." He extinguished the sconces on the wall and flopped onto his bed. In the dark the sounds of sheets ruffling, him grunting and a final, "Damnit!" and Severus spelled his clothes off and eventually fell into another uneasy sleep.
After breakfast the next morning, Hermione was back in Severus' labs researching his books for any potions that might be used to strengthen the batch they had made for Harry. She really was making quite a mess in his lab, but it was nothing a few simple Cleaning Spells couldn't fix in a jiffy. She had just stumbled upon an intensifying tonic, which involved Camphor, and looked as if it would be compatible, when his heavy lab door burst open.
He stopped dead in his tracks and glared at her. She stood up straight and looked at him surprised. "Something wrong?" she asked.
"What are you doing here?" he demanded.
"Well, I was working on the potion," she said watching him carefully.
"Well, if you wouldn't mind, I need this space, alone, today. So if you could just leave, that would very be helpful." He strode fully into his lab and looked around. "What the bloody hell did you do to my lab?"
Hermione inhaled angrily. She dog-eared the Camphor essence page and slammed the book shut. "A simple 'hello' would have sufficed. And there's no reason to yell at me," she said in a clipped tone.
"I worked all day putting this lab to rights yesterday and it took you all of, what, ten minutes to destroy it today?" he fired back.
"It's not like it can't be fixed!" She impatiently waved her wand and set the Cleaning Spells to work.
"No, no. Never mind now!" He strode over to his workbench. "It's just, I need to get to work." He bent over, avoiding her angry glare, and spread out a piece of parchment in front of him. He was breathing very heavily and Hermione noticed his usually steady hands were shaking. Despite her swelling anger at being so rudely accosted, she steeled herself and watched him for a moment.
"What's wrong?" she asked not too politely.
"It's none of your concern—please leave."
Hermione looked at the parchment before him; it was written in an acid green ink and for some reason this raised alarms in her mind."What is that?"
He whirled on her. "It's nothing! Why are you still here? Surely there is someone else in this bloody castle you can bother?" And with that he flicked his wrist at the parchment causing it to promptly erupt into flame.
Hermione groaned and threw up her arms yelling, "You're impossible!" She stormed out of his lab and made for the library. Severus winced at the slammed door and raked his trembling hands through his damp hair. His conscience really bothered him for doing that to her, but he didn't have much time to waste. Feelings couldn't be spared at the moment. His moral excuse resolved, he turned back to his countertop and set to work.
Hermione spent half the day either pacing in the library muttering angrily, which drew attention from the House ghosts (who came in frequently to see what all the fuss was about), researching the traits of Camphor essences, writing letters to the Weasley's and eating chocolate. Minerva had come in looking for a book on Ancient Transfiguration Rites and tried to calm Hermione by saying, "He sometimes does that." This of course, didn't help. Eventually she got basically over it, and chalked it up to something that was on that parchment Severus had burned. She even began wondering if she should see if he was okay. Even though she was mad at him, she was also worried.
When she finally left the library, just before evening, and went out into the hall to go up to her rooms to change for dinner, she met him coming up from the dungeons. He stared straight ahead while she waited for him to pass by. When he got to the great front doors he hesitated for a moment, then opened them and went on to wherever he was going. She groaned again and stalked up to her rooms.
He was late for dinner that night, and most people had almost finished eating when he finally sat down. Hermione chewed the last bit of her Bangers and Mash and watched him out of the corner of her eye. He had sat down with a sigh, and poured himself a glass of pumpkin juice. Poppy nudged Minerva worriedly—he never drank pumpkin juice unless he was really upset. He had done that ever since he was a child.
Dumbledore noted the tension that was slowly gathering and decided to make friendly conversation directed towards a completely safe topic—such as the new pub opening that weekend in Hogsmeade. Of course the women all gushed and gossiped, and Hagrid began telling everyone how grand it was going to be because he had been in to watch the construction. Hermione politely listened and watched Snape secretly as he ate meagrely. He did not add to the dialogue.
Hermione turned from the chatting professors to look at Severus. She noticed his hands had some red patches on them, which appeared to be covered in a light salve. He was pushing his mashed potatoes around on his plate and ground his teeth, annoyed, and looked up at her blankly. She kept her face vacant as well and waited him out. He frowned and looked away. She sighed and slightly shook her head before going back to the rest of the conversation that was further down the table.
Once everyone had finished with dessert and coffee and began clearing out, Severus rose and walked out of the Great Hall. Hermione hurried to quietly catch up with him and caught him just before he headed back down to the dungeons. She had gotten over her initial anger and was just plain worried about him now. She called out his name and he stopped as if irritated, but waited for her. She came up beside him and looked into his eyes. He averted them and began walking down the stone steps into the darkness of the lower levels of the castle, leaving her to follow.
"Are you still working down there?" she asked a little out of breath.
"I've done all I can for the moment," he said further up ahead.
"Oh." She walked quickly behind him to keep up with his fast pace and couldn't help feeling that she must be completely annoying to follow him around like this all the time. He stopped at his lab door and abruptly turned to her. She gasped in surprise at the quick movement.
"Do you still need the lab?" he asked monotonously.
"I would like to. If it's okay with you, of course. I'm sorry if I've been a bother to you. I'm sure you're not used to having someone invade your privacy like this." She hoped this relent would help ease his temper a bit, but she was being sincere as well.
He didn't say anything, just contemplated her for a moment and unlocked the wards to his lab. He walked in, her right behind him, and then stopped. She ran into his back. She cursed herself when she got slightly turned on from the contact.
"These," he said indicating the three cauldrons each with a green haze around them, "are off limits, please."
"Are those-"
"Potion protectants, yes."
She nodded, intrigued. "Aright," she walked over to the book she had been looking in earlier that afternoon before he had yelled at her, and opened it up to the page she had been looking at. "I've been researching this ingredient all afternoon, and I wanted to consult you about it's usage in amping up our potion. What do you think?"
Snape walked over to the book and took it from her, looking over the page. "The idea is catching, but Camphor can be very unstable, and there are different strengths. You'd have to have a-"
"Stabilizer, yes. And lots of water, but if you could stabilize it, couldn't it be possible to create a stronger potion with the Camphor that has the Moonflower herb in it?" Snape studied her face for a moment before focusing his attention on the page. Hermione went to his supply closet and grabbed some of the necessary ingredients and laid them out on the workspace in front of her. She then went to the cooling box to retrieve some of the failed potion they had saved for future use. She ladled some of the liquid into a separate cauldron and began heating it slowly for experimentation, after she put the rest back in the cooler. Snape had watched her cautiously after having read the page. His mind was trying to work out any flaws or problems they could have.
"Hermione, I'm not sure if this will work."
She stopped stirring the thick liquid in the cauldron. "Why not?" She had been thinking about it all day. "I really think we could have a shot at this."
"Well for one, I'm not sure how the Camphor will react with the grated Dragon heartstring. I'm sure you know how delicate that is when mixing it with other spirits." His voice was becoming stern again, just like his classroom voice.
Hermione stiffened. "But if we do it with the proper dosages, it shouldn't react badly." She set her tone as well.
"I really think we should test this before we put it into the entire cauldron-full." He was getting testy. Hermione lay out a few varying strengths of Camphor oil, and added some water to the concoction.
"I think we should go with the medium strength," not listening to him. "It will produce something more powerful, but shouldn't be too extreme."
"Hermione, I'm serious-" he took a step towards the counter.
She slammed a stir stick down on the counter. "Is it a trust issue?" she yelled.
He stopped midstep. "….Excuse me?" he asked completely surprised.
"Yes! Can you not, for once, just let someone else lead or trust them to know what they're talking about? I'm not stupid, you know."
He stood there completely silent, eyes wide.
Finally, "Of all the ridiculous, impertinent…womanly things to say! I take my work very seriously, particularly those working under me and their health. Not to mention my own! Forgive me if I have my doubts as to the stability of what you are about to do. There is a reason why I am a Potions Master." He pressed his lips together into a tight line and struggled to say no more. Hermione just shook her head, unbelievably, and reached over for the bottle of Camphor oil.
Snape looked cautiously at the bottle in her hands, and took a hesitant step forward, forgetting his anger.
"I wouldn't if-"
"Oh? Well I would! You know, I am capable of doing something without your help!" she yelled. Hermione absent-mindedly thought it felt good to yell. Specifically at him.
She pulled out the stop and got ready to drip it into the now viciously bubbling cauldron under her hand.
Snape took another quick step towards her and made to grab her wrist.
"Hermione, really, don't-" She did.
She dripped three small drops into the cauldron, when she saw his eyes widen before he dove at her.
She squeaked as he rammed into her side, and the cauldron spat out its searing hot contents into the air directly where she had been standing. They fell harshly into a heap on the hard stone floor and felt shards of glass that had been containing the Camphor essence after it had shattered noisily on the ground next to their heads, sprinkle softly over their skin. Hot droplets of ruined potion rained on them until they were coated in the thick green liquid.
Hermione's heart froze while her face reddened. Snape was breathing heavily beside her and she could almost feel his anger radiating out of him onto her. The exhaled air from his mouth in her ear for once wasn't pleasant.
"I told you not to do that." His calm, slow voice was dripping with venom…and something akin to fear. "Why-"
Hermione shoved him off of her and stood up, slipping in the thick liquid beneath her feet. She grabbed onto the slippery work table to steady herself. Out of the corner of her eye saw the cauldron was smoking and simmering angrily next to her.
He quickly spun around on his knees on the floor and glared up at her, covered in goo. He noticed she was fighting back tears.
"You know, your temper really is a hazard to people's health, you should watch that!" he yelled at her.
She barely flinched, and straightened; some of the goo dripped off of her chin and plopped onto the floor. "Well you should watch yours! You don't help to make the most hospitable of working conditions, which, consequently, can be dangerous too! If you hadn't have been yelling at me-"
"Me! Oh, I don't think I was the only culprit in this, and if you would grow up and think before you act-" he started to stand up, but also slipped in the gooey liquid that coated the floor.
"Grow up? Me grow up" she narrowed her eyes. "You should talk about maturity, Severus Snape!" she spat and turned on her heels blinking the salted tears out of her eyes and strode awkwardly towards the door. She cursed any and everything she could think of when she stumbled in the muck again before reaching the clean stone hallway out of the lab and slammed the door shut behind her.
Snape winced when the door slammed, and stood up. He slipped again and slammed his fist into the worktable. He was still breathing hard from a mixture of anger, panic and frustration.
Looking around his lab and back at the door, he thanked Heaven that at least his cauldrons hadn't been ruined. He started to run his fingers through his goo-matted hair, stopped and sighed, immediately pulling them out of his thoroughly drenched black strands.
"Damnit!" he bellowed, and picked up a ladle. It slipped out of his slimy grip and he yelled as loud as he could before sending the cauldron hurtling into the nearest wall.
Crookshanks hissed and bolted under the chair he had been occupying in the next room.
Hermione cried while she was taking her shower immediately after getting to her rooms. And she continued crying whilst lying in bed afterwards. She was so angry at him, and at herself and how childish she had been. She could have potentially harmed them, but she was so eager to prove him wrong that she had acted before thinking. Something she just did not do.
Her emotions were a complete wreck. She thought he simply pitied her, but now she wasn't sure. She couldn't stop thinking about him, yet she was tired of thinking about him at the same time. And to top it all off, her own pet spent most of his time down there with him instead of her.
Tears leaked out of her eyes again, and she hugged her pillow tightly. "Even my cat likes him better than me!" she wailed. Hermione buried her face into her pillow and sobbed until she had cried herself to sleep hoping that when she woke up the next morning it would be in Heaven instead of in bed.
Snape finished showering and wrapped his waist with a plush, deep green towel and padded out of the bathroom. Crookshanks sat contentedly in the wingback next to the hearth in his room, watching him through half-closed eyes. Snape sank wearily onto his bed and looked at the cat.
"Your mistress is completely impossible." The animal blinked calmly. "She nearly got us killed today." The familiar stretched. Snape sighed. "Regardless…I can't stop thinking about her." Snape swore the cat smiled. "And I forgot to ask her today." The cat jumped down off the chair and clawed up onto the bed to settle on a pillow.
"Bloody nuisance," he threw the towel onto the floor. "Knox!"
Hermione woke up around mid-afternoon the next day. She felt a little ill, but nonetheless got dressed and went down for a late lunch. Knowing everyone had already eaten; she skipped the Great Hall and instead went down to the kitchens. She wondered if Dobby and Winky were still working at Hogwarts. Hermione brightened a little at the thought of seeing them. Besides, it would keep her mind occupied on something other than the terrible incidence that occurred last night.
As she made her way, quickly, down the steps that also led to the dungeons, she hung a sharp left and wound her way down the hall that the Hufflepuffs walked to their dorms. She grinned as she remembered coming down here with Harry and Ron to the kitchens for late night snacks. She'd come down here several times, alone, to talk to the elves about liberation as well. Only Dobby seemed to be excited at first. She'd hoped Dobby had finally gotten Winky to embrace freedom like he had. She knew they had fallen in love their seventh year, and had even had a couple of elvin children.
After tickling the pear on the huge painting of fruit that stood blocking the entrance to the kitchens, she stepped inside and smiled remembering the first time she'd been in there. Almost immediately she was greeted by dozens of House elves who doted on her and ran to fetch her tea, biscuits and anything else they could lay their tiny little hands on. Despite wanting to help the House elves, she had made her peace with trying to liberate them, knowing they would rather die serving than live being free, so she had stopped pestering them.
"MISS!" came a high pitched and very happy voice from somewhere near the floor. "Miss has come to see Dobby and his family! I was telling Winky, I was saying, 'Winky! Little Miss will come, she will.' And what has she done? She has come to see Dobby!" and the little House elf ran delightedly to her and hugged Hermione around the knees, crying tears of joy. Hermione laughed and bent down to give Dobby a kiss on the top of his knobbly little head. Dobby blushed and bowed deeply, before jumping up and down again.
"Oh Miss, I is so glad to see you. We was so worried about you, we was. Dobby and Winky came in every night to see that Professor Snapes was taking good care of you. He did too."
"Dobby! Stops pestering Miss Hermione." A very pregnant Winky emerged from around a corner, near the great pantry, followed by three little elf children tagging along behind. Hermione smiled even brighter. Elf children were so rare to see, and they were so adorable she could hardly stand it.
"Oh, Dobby!" she exclaimed. "Is this your family? I didn't realise you had so many children. And another on the way! Congratulations!" Again Dobby deeply blushed, and kicked the ground. Winky hobbled her way over, and tried as hard as she could to curtsy, not doing a very good job of it. Hermione had to try very hard not to laugh.
"We is very happy to be seeing you, Miss Hermione. Dobby is being right. We was very worried for Miss. But now you is better. Would Miss like Winky to introduce her childrens?" Hermione smiled and nodded. "This is the oldest; he is being the one you saw when he was just born." The tallest of the three boldly stepped forward, and took off his knit hat. It looked very familiar with its bobble on the head, and Hermione was sure she had given that to Dobby so many years before. Hermione curtsied to the boy elf.
"I is happy to see Miss Hermione again," said the elf child.
"Me too, Shasta." The little elf bowed and stepped back behind his mother.
"Miss, this is our next son, Corby." The middle elf child stepped nervously forward. His clothes was just as ridiculous as his father's, meaning absolutely nothing matched, whereas the other two were wearing clothes that matched, like their mother. He looked just like his father, only with his mother's squashed tomato nose, and his voice was very high pitched and squeaky.
This elf bowed the lowest, his squashed little nose touching the ground. "I is very pleased to meet you, Miss."
Hermione laughed. "As am I, Corby. You look very much like your father." Dobby's little chest swelled with pride.
"Much thanks to you Miss," said Corby. "Father has told us of Miss's great bravery." Hermione smiled. The little elf looked as if he wanted to ask her a question, but thought better of it, and then decided to ask anyways. "Begging your pardon, Miss, but Corby was wondering if the legend is true about Miss."
Hermione's eyes widened a bit in surprise. "Legend?"
"Corby! It is impolite to speak to Miss Hermione about such things," Winky scolded.
"Corby is wondering about Miss's attempt at," Dobby looked at his wife apologetically, then whispered, "About the Liberation," he said faintly. Winky shifted uneasily and looked around. The youngest of the elf children looked away too.
"Dobby," warned Winky. His ears drooped a bit. Hermione burst out laughing.
"Not at all, Corby. I hope your mother won't mind me saying this to you," and she glanced at Winky, who smoothed her little skirt out. "But yes, I did do…what your father said." And she winked at Corby. The little elf's already too big eyes bulged even more and he smiled, before running back to join his brother and sister.
Winky was getting tired, and placed her small hands on her back, the weight of her unborn baby making her legs ache. "This, Miss Hermione, is our youngest and so far only daughter. She is being named Hermy." At this Winky blushed. Hermione's eyes widened again. "Please Miss; we wanted, er, Dobby was wanting to name his daughter after the bravest, kindest witch Dobby is knowing."
Hermione opened her mouth in astonishment. "Oh! Dobby! Winky! That is so…that is such a compliment, thank you so very much." This time Hermione was the one to blush.
Winky urged a very shy, but proud little girl elf out from behind her. The little elf had big brown eyes, and looked very much like her mother, but even cuter. She wore a tiny little Hogwarts skirt and blouse, with a very tiny Gryffindor emblem sewn onto the chest.
"Hermy is a favourite of Master Dumbledore, and he is giving Hermy these clothes for Hermy's birthday this year," replied an ecstatic Dobby. Hermy curtsied as best she could and batted her large eyelashes and Hermione, to which Hermione curtsied back.
"It is an honour to meet you as well, Hermy." The little elf blushed and giggled. She didn't look much older than maybe three years of age.
Finally, Winky could wait no longer. She went over to a nearby stool and sat down on it carefully, with a sigh. Dobby went to stand beside his wife.
"Are you okay, my Winky?"
"Dobby, I is fine. See to Miss Hermione," she said tiredly. At this the three elf children ran up to Hermione.
"Can we gets you anything, Miss? We have all kinds of puddings!" Hermione felt odd about having the children get her something, but she knew they'd go with whomever she asked. So she asked for a chicken salad, sandwich and some pumpkin juice, and the three went bounding away, laughing and tackling each other.
Winky winced. "They still has lots to learn, but they are smart." Dobby nodded and his ears flapped around his face, but he was beaming at his children.
After lunch Hermione said her goodbyes to Dobby's wonderful family (the children promising to visit as often as they could get away from their mother). When she reached the top of the stairs and out into the main entrance, Hermione decided a walk outside in the fresh air would do her some good. She used to run everyday, but had been either sick, or too busy to start up again.
She was wearing some khaki shorts, and a simple t-shirt already, so she thought she might see if she was still in any kind of shape. She went out onto the steps that lead up the front doors of the castle, and stretched before starting out. She took off down the path towards the gates at a light pace, enjoying the workout. She hoped she could maybe even run off some of last night's embarrassment.
The hot sun felt good on her skin and her calves felt great at being used properly again. When she reached the gates, she took a short breather before taking back off up the gravel path towards the front doors again. As she approached the entrance, Vector came out and waved to her. When she got nearer, she called out to her.
"I thought that was you I saw running," Lenea smiled down at Hermione. She was panting heavily and only nodded, smiling.
"Yes," she breathed, "I'm a bit…out of…shape..."
Vector laughed. "Well, if that's what being out of shape is, I hope I am too," she smiled at the Gryffindor. "I was hoping you still had enough in you to accompany me for a walk? I've been cooped up in my office all day, redoing my syllabi and so forth. I could use a little sun."
Hermione nodded, having finally caught her breath, replied, "I'd love to." They set off to the west of the castle talking lightly and trying to make the best of the heat, each enjoying the other's company.
Snape had woken up in a foul mood that morning and was still angry with Hermione. He was also angry with himself and hadn't slept well at all. When he'd gone up for lunch, having skipped breakfast, he'd gotten sly glances from the women present. Snape stared at everyone curiously, before scowling and taking a water cress sandwich from the pewter tray in front of him. However, once Hermione hadn't shown up, (this being the initial reason for the queer looks from faculty, Snape surmised) everyone left him alone. Everyone except Madam Hooch.
"Sleep in late, eh Snape?" she taunted.
"Madam, I am in no mood for your games today." He almost said he'd had a "rough night," but then he would have screwed himself over, so he left it at that. Instead he settled for eating his lunch quietly.
The Flying Instructor of course didn't stop. "Well, that's too bad. I needed some help this afternoon, and a good opinion, as you are the only other person here qualified to have a sort of opinion about the state of our Quidditch gear."
At this Snape relaxed a bit and barely turned to acknowledge the woman. "Go on," his deep voice inquired.
"Well, obviously, the uniforms are in a terrible state, and the school-issued brooms, well, technically should be burnt." Snape smirked. "Albus says that we've been receiving some extra donations now that the war is over, and people have been unafraid to help Hogwarts." She took a sip of her lemonade. "So I was wondering if you'd like to exorcise your demons and help me clean out the locker rooms." She sat back in her chair and waited for Severus to finish his last bite. He wiped his mouth and sat back in his own chair. He hadn't been down to the pitch in awhile, and it would take his mind off of…well, everything. Hopefully.
"Very well, Gamula. When would you like-"
"As soon as you're finished, if you please." She stood up, said her goodbye's to the rest of the faculty and left the High Table. On her way past she called out saucily, "See you on field, Snape!" He shook his head and poured himself another glass of water. When he'd eaten all he wanted, he left the Hall again, and went back down to his rooms to change clothes. His current attire wasn't conducive to being out in the hot locker rooms in the middle of summer. He switched into a pair of breezy, black trousers, and a simple black, cotton short sleeved shirt. In the back of his wardrobe he noticed his flying robes out of the corner of his eye, and he began toying with the idea of taking them along, just in case. Hooch was always fun to race, and he couldn't think of a moment when he'd been at the pitch with her during similar occurrences and she hadn't taken him on. The robes were very expensive, but tough. They were of course black, but had white referee stripes on the inside lining, as well as a few on the outside back. They weren't made for speed, as there were several pieces that were not sewn together, but when viewed from below, the wind racing through and flapping the fabric loosely behind, it made quite an appearance.
Finally he decided it would be a little too hot, and wouldn't do for racing in. He stayed, instead, in his shirt and trousers. He next went to another, smaller, wardrobe near the back wall of his room. The cabinet was made of ebony and had been highly polished. He ran his hands along the smooth, silver handles and opened them up. Snape knew he wasn't a terribly athletic person, he never really had been. But he wasn't dreadful either. If he'd been given a chance when he was younger, he felt sure he could have excelled at Quidditch. But, he had instead been pressured, mainly by himself if he were being honest, to choose books over frivolity as a child. Thus, he merely flew when it was the only other option left for leisure.
However, this did not stop him from buying a Quidditch rack and having the most expensive broom money could buy. This being the new Quicksilver. Not to mention owning a rather attractive set of flying robes, which almost nobody knew about.
Today, he only brought the broom. When he stepped outside and the bright sunshine hit his face, Snape deeply inhaled the summer air. He slung his broom, carefully, over his shoulder and started off with a brisk pace down to the Quidditch pitch. He was rather excited to have the feel of the broom in his hands, the power under him. It had been such a long time since he'd flown; it was like opening a new present. When he was a child, that is. He didn't get so excited about such things now, his mind at least tried to insist.
As he got closer to the locker rooms Hooch heard him and called out from inside, "It's about time Snape! You didn't put on that hot little-" she looked up. "Oh. You didn't, pity." But upon closer examination she said, "However, that will definitely work." Snape grinned and shook his head. "A grin? For me?" she batted her eyelashes. She could be coy, she was a rather tougher woman, but she could be bashful. Or at least pretend to be.
"Were you ever called a harlot, in school, Gam?" he tossed out.
She burst out into a throaty cackle and threw a battered Cleansweep in his direction. "Oh, Severus. You're such a tease."
"Do watch the Quicksilver, please."
Gam turned back around. "So, you did bring the old Ebony god. Excellent," she said eyeing the black streamlined broom. "Because I am going to thoroughly stomp you into the ground, potion boy."
"You can try, Madam." He gently laid his broom on the bench nearest him, and began going through old equipment, and uniforms with his fellow Slytherin.
After about 30 minutes of consolidation, they shrunk and boxed the old equipment to be sent back to the manufacturers. They stepped out into the fresh air and stretched a bit.
"Thank goodness that's over with. I hate throwing away old brooms almost as much as I love buying new ones," sighed the Flying Instructor.
"Yes, did you bring along that new broom of yours?"
The Slytherin flashed a happy grin. "Of course. You know, my favourite line was the Silver Arrows, back when I was a kid. Well, the old company produced a new version and I had to get it. Allow me to introduce," she went in to go get the broom and came back out, "the newest addition to the Silver Arrow family. The Silver Arrow….5000!" They both laughed.
"Is that what they're calling it? How original," Snape smirked and lightly took it from her hands, looking it over. "Well, it nice, it's much thinner than the old," he observed.
"Look at the tail, though. Same streamlined twigs, just longer. They always had such balance, even for their time."
"Mm, well now that that is settled. I challenge you to a race." Snape went in for his own broom and met her on the pitch.
"What's the course?" asked Gamula with delight.
Snape looked about. "One lap around the lake, the part that is on the grounds, then come back to the stadium, two around, vertical figure eight, touch both middle goal posts, and back to the centre."
"I accept your challenge Professor Snape! May the best win to taunt the loser afterwards."
He smiled, feeling the adrenaline begin coursing through his body. He mounted his Quicksilver excitedly. The broom seemed to be humming with excitement and he stroked the smooth, polished wood in his hands before they both kicked off into the air, awaiting his call.
"On three, Madam," he shouted. She saluted, and assumed her racing position.
"One! Two!" he paused for a moment. "Three!" And off they shot! They both went quickly up into the air, over the stadium walls and raced over to the lake. They turned into a smooth curve, Hooch slightly ahead, and followed the shoreline, weaving in and out of the tall trees. Snape ever so slightly dipped downwards to skim the top of the lake with his hands. The water looked and felt beautiful. Snape was relishing the exhilarating feeling of his hair flapping behind him as the wind whipped in his pale face. Temporary bliss. He could hear the Flying Instructor laughing up ahead of him, and he darted upwards, losing a little time, but leant forward and gripped tightly as his broom responded in speed. He quickly caught up with her and stayed at her side for a moment.
"You're going to lose!" he shouted. And she shook her head, pushing forwards. The bend in the lake was coming up, and they both sharply turned to follow the shoreline back towards the centre of the grounds. Severus looked down and noticed two figures going down to the field. He saw the long brown hair of one, and the short, blonde of the other. 'Lovely,' he thought and pushed forwards harder.
From back on the ground, Hermione and Vector saw the two black figures racing in the sky above the lake.
"Look, Hermione! It's Gamula and Severus!" Vector laughed. "I haven't seen them race in quite awhile."
Hermione looked shocked. "Severus races? Since when!" She looked up smiling in complete disbelief. She would have never figured Severus Snape a flier.
"Yes, when Hooch is not well, or absent, Severus is licensed to referee Quidditch matches. He's done so several times. Although he is rather partial, but basically he's fair." Hermione had a sudden memory of him being the referee at one of their first games.
The two Slytherins raced overhead turning towards the Quidditch pitch, and Vector and Hermione who were almost to the field, looked at each other smiling, and ran the rest of the way down to the field to see the rest of the competition. They quickly sat down on the bleachers in front of the locker rooms and watched as Snape and Hooch went head to head around the top of the stadium.
"He's very good isn't he?" Lenea nodded, grinning. Snape was now ahead and raced for the centre of the field. He was getting too close to the ground, going full speed, which caused Hermione to scream and Lenea to gasp. But Severus jerked his arms up last minute, shooting upwards, followed by Hooch a few seconds later. He went into a wide, smooth arch to the right, then crossed over into a curve left, then circled on his side to the right, and curved downwards. The women were both clutching at their chests, mouths open, and their eyes wide. Hooch likewise followed him, doing just as beautifully.
Snape crossed over to his right to finish the swoop of the bottom part of the figure eight and effortlessly took off towards the left side of the field, toward the goals.
Vector stood up cheering for Hooch, "COME ON, GAMULA! DON'T LET THAT SERPENT BEAT YOU!" and laughed. Hermione followed suit.
"She's on your heels, Severus!" both women stood cheering them on and watching with bated breath.
Snape slowed at the goal, touched it with his hand, and darted off in the other direction.
"I'm still going to win!" he called out to Hooch. He got a fleeting image of her flipping him off before she touched the middle goal and turned. Snape shot across the field, smiling, slowed again to touch the other post a mere two seconds before Hooch. He shot off towards the centre of the pitch and could feel her at the end of his broom. Severus could see Hermione cheering for him in the stands and his heart swelled for a moment and he pushed forwards. He would win this time! They were neck and neck; the centre coming closer. Snape pulled up, grunting with force. He could hear Gamula doing the same behind him. He slowed to an almost halt and kicked the sand, sending it spraying in all directions with his foot, yelling out.
Hooch stopped a little past the centre where he had stopped and turned around.
"Very well! You won, you won! Out of how many times, though?" Hooch spat good-naturedly. She was, however, a little disappointed at having lost.
Snape was breathing heavily, smiling. Hermione and Vector went over to stand next to them.
"You mean Severus beat you, Gamula!" cried Lenea. Hermione was beaming.
"Congratulations, Severus," she said. "Madam Hooch, you did just as well." Hooch smiled in reply, and wiped a bead of perspiration from her brow. Hermione looked up at Severus, Vector had noticed him as well, but hadn't said anything. Hermione was just realising how extremely hot he looked. He was wearing black trousers, that hugged his hips very nicely, and his black shirt was stuck to his body, outlining the faint muscles in his chest. His hair was swept out of his face, wind blown, and sweat was dripping off his brow, and his eyes held a sort of happy mischief. Hermione's mouth went completely dry.
"That was quite a spectacle, Severus. I didn't realise you could pull such moves. For a Potions Master, that is," teased Lenea.
Severus lifted his chin. "And why not?"
"Because generally, your kind is such nerds, dear boy," replied Hooch.
Snape grinned. "Well, then a nerd just beat a Flying Instructor," his voice was purring against Hermione's nerves and she shifted on her feet. Lenea looked at her through the corner of her eye, and although she could stand to admire Severus at the moment, she knew now would be the perfect time to leave them alone.
"Speaking of nerd, I have very much enjoyed this afternoon, but I have to get back to my dark little office. I have a very rowdy bunch of third years coming up, and they need a seating chart. Hooch, picking up on the hint nodded.
"Yes, I'm a terrible loser, and I don't think I can take much more of his gloating, so I'll send those old brooms and whatnot off to order new ones. At least that will make me happy." The older women turned and left. Hooch stopped by the locker rooms and Accio'd the box of equipment. She then shouldered her broom and together she and Vector set off for the castle leaving Hermione and a sweating Snape alone.
They stood there for a moment, an awkward silence falling between them. Each one was trying to think of who should apologize to whom first.
There was a tense moment, mainly filled by the heavy breathing of Severus. "Sorry," "Forgive me," they both said at the same time. Hermione smiled, and Snape looked at the ground, shifting his weight to his other leg.
"I'm sorry for not listening to you yesterday," Hermione said bashfully. "You do know more than me in that field, and I was just…aggravated with you. I wasn't thinking, and I'm sorry I messed up your lab." She too looked at the ground.
"Apology accepted." They stood there for a bit, and Hermione waited for him to apologize, but when he didn't she began to get agitated again. He grinned at her devilishly and she understood he was just trying to get a raise out of her. She pushed him gently and he looked up at her.
"I shouldn't have lost my temper like that at you…both times. I'm sorry." Hermione smiled at him. They were both looking into each other's eyes completely happy to just be standing there. The urge to kiss her started to really overwhelm Snape, so he changed gears.
"Do you fly?" he said indicating his broom. This was a big deal; he didn't just let anyone fly on his baby.
Hermione took a step back. "Actually, that's the one thing I never did well at in school…I really can't fly," she blushed.
Snape raised his eyebrows. "You mean there is something you can't do?" he asked incredulously. "Well, maybe it's time you learn."
Hermione took another step back and shook her head vigorously. "No, I mean it. I was always content to let Harry and Ron fly…but I am perfectly fine on the ground."
Snape looked at her appraisingly. "So you're afraid."
Hermione looked back. "No. I just don't like flying."
"What if I help you?" She stood there unmoved. "I'll ride behind you and show you how it's done," he purred. Hermione looked at him blankly. "The broom of course," he added. Her eyes got wide and she opened her mouth trying to find something to say. He laughed. "It was a joke, Hermione. I understand if you're too scared to try something that simple children can do." He smirked at her.
"I know what you're trying to do, Severus," she said firmly.
"I doubt that," and he jumped back out of the reach of her slap.
"Maybe another time," she offered and began walking away. He stood there for a moment trying to think of a way to keep her with him longer. He got back on his broom and rode low to the ground, slowly beside her.
"So, what plans have you for this afternoon?"
Hermione shrugged. "The afternoon is almost over," she watched him flying beside her as they made their way to the castle. The giant squid poked a long tentacle out of the water lazily and swam near the surface.
"Oh! I haven't seen the squid in so long," she exclaimed. Snape looked over to the lake.
"Mm. Well, what are you doing this evening?" he asked looking back at her. They were passing through a patch of wildflowers near Hagrid's hut, and again Hermione shrugged.
"May I ask why?" she pursed her lips. Snape stared at them.
"I thought I might try to make amends?" He bent over and dropped his arm to just above the ground.
"How would you do that?" she asked coyly. He came back up and held out a fistful of wildflowers to her. Hermione stopped and looked at them. He stopped beside her, still hovering.
"A token of my gratitude?" Hermione smiled at him, but still didn't take them. "You're right, they're hideous," he said dryly and he began to throw them down when she stopped him.
"No! They're beautiful, I just…can't believe you did that is all," and she took them from his hands, smiling. "It seems very un-Snapish."
He studied her as she looked at the flowers. "It was." She grinned and shook her head. He smiled lightly at the jest. "Next would be an invitation for you to join me for dinner…somewhere out here. I'm not sure where yet, but it will be nice. That is, if you accept."
Hermione's eyes widened. She could not believe her ears. "Is…this a date, then?"
Snape breathed in, and looked up, thinking, toying with her. Then he looked back at her calmly. "I believe it is."
He got off the broom now and leaned against it, arms crossed. His muscles were showing past the sleeves of his shirt, and Hermione again felt that wave of desire just lightly spark up within her.
"Will you accept?" he asked softly.
Hermione swallowed. "What time?"
He grinned devilishly at her, and looked at her lips while she nervously worried them. "How about, eight o'clock?"
She tried to nod casually, but most likely failed. "Yes, I accept."
They stood there for another moment, Hermione
fingering the petals of the flowers. Snape watched her hands,
transfixed.
"Good," he said quietly. "Shall I meet you in
your rooms?"
"That would be fine," she said shyly. He nodded, still gazing at her lovely pink lips.
They began moving again, this time Snape shouldering his ebony broom, and walked up to the castle. Hermione asked more about his flying experience, which he answered, and when they reached the great staircase Snape gently grasped her hand and brought it to his lips. He kissed the soft skin on her knuckles, staring into her eyes, before saying goodbye. He turned from her and disappeared with his broom into the darkness of the dungeons. Hermione stood as if in a daze after he left. Then with a huge, silly grin, ran upstairs to prepare for her moonlit date that evening with the Potions Professor.
A/N: Hi there! Um. Enjoy.
And I'm back from England now.
