Chapter 4 – If At First You Don't Succeed
A short journey found Snape leaning against the closed and locked door of his office. The dungeons had the natural ability to remain cool even during the warmest months of the year. Snape was thankful for this. The cool air soothed the heat that had risen in his face from the surprising stress of the present situation. He chided himself on his lack of wit. It had been years since he had found himself out of sorts and he did not like it one bit.
I cannot let her talk to me like that again, he concluded. He moved toward his desk and sank into the chair seeking repose. Another year, another apprentice. She would be no different from any of the others, nor would she be the last. He kept trying to convince himself of this even though the voice in the back of his mind told him otherwise. She was a formidable adversary--she was smart and she knew it. No matter how misanthropic he tried to be, she would counter him, probably with McGonagall. Dwelling on what might happen was only making him more uneasy. Instead, he chose to go into the classroom and busy his mind with other, more important, things like preparing for their meeting that afternoon. He was going to force her to prove herself and perhaps not allow her to get a word in edgewise.
> > > > > > > > > >
Dobby bounded ahead into the darkness of what to him must have been a frequent path. Hermione--half walking, half jogging to keep up--was unfamiliar with this part of the castle and illuminated her wand.
Ancient stone walls rose from the marble floor and arched into a rather low ceiling. Yellow lichen had taken residence along the seams of the stones and gave the reflected light an eerie quality. The cold, dank setting sole all of the warmth Hermione had gained outside the castle. The only sounds that met her ears were the frenzied footfalls of Dobby ahead and the echoing clunk of her own shoes on the hard marble.
"Dobby, what part of the castle is this?" Hermione queried.
He squealed in surprise. "We are just under the lake Miss. Dobby knows it is cold but your rooms will be better, Dobby promises!"
Wondering whom on Earth would put living quarters in such a dreary part of the castle, she continued along her line of questions. "Does anyone else stay down here?"
"Oh yes! The Slytherin dormitory is at the end of this passage."
"Isn't that lovely," she remarked. Staying a stone's throw from the Slytherin students had not been something she'd anticipated.
"Do not worry Miss. The students cannot come this way. They must go down the stairs. They do not know this corridor exists. You must be an adult, or a House Elf like Dobby, to see the way!"
"Will there be anyone else staying down here or am I the only one who has the pleasure?"
At that, Dobby stopped suddenly in front of her. In the dim light, Hermione was unaware and almost toppled him to the floor, catching him by the arm to steady him.
Before she could apologize, he looked up at her with his great orb-like eyes and said with his voice just above a whisper, "Professor Snape."
"What?" she exclaimed, her voice reverberating down the now silent corridor. She lowered her voice, "Snape lives down here as well?"
"Yes Miss, his rooms are adjacent to yours." Lifting a shaky finger, he pointed to her left. He was still nearly whispering. "Your door is unlocked. Dobby must go now." He hugged her leg and then skittered back down the now pitch black passage.
Raising her lit wand, she saw another door--what must be her door--to the right. "This day just keeps getting better and better," she muttered. "Nox."
Hermione turned the knob to enter what she expected to be a dreary room matching the passageway. She was no less than astounded. The room suffused her with warmth. She found herself standing in a sizeable sitting room. On the right was a large, deep maroon overstuffed couch facing a substantial hearth. Flanking the couch on each said were matching armchairs upholstered in black leather. Sitting just in front of the couch was a low, rectangular wooden table holding a platter of breakfast foods, a carafe of coffee and a jug of juice. Dobby must have lit the fireplace, casting the room into the warm, yellow glow of the fire. Bookcases lined the back wall, shelves mostly empty, awaiting the books she would no doubt need during her apprenticeship. As her eyes scanned to the left, she saw a doorway and then just to her left sat a small oak table with two flat-backed chairs and a sideboard certainly meant for her to keep whatever food or drink she wished. The floor was of the same marble as the corridor but there were rugs placed strategically along the obvious routes through the room. Hermione noted that though the walls were of the same stone as the passageway, the same lichen did not inhabit them, nor did they seem as cold. Even though there were no windows, the room actually felt quite cozy.
After releasing Crookshanks from his wicker prison, she removed her luggage from her pockets and returned them one at a time to their original size. She took the suitcase containing her clothes and headed toward the door she assumed would lead to her bedroom. She was not disappointed.
The bedroom was small, about half that of the sitting area. The far wall held another, although smaller, fireplace. The bed sat long ways coming away from the left wall. She was glad to see it was not pressed up against the far wall, seeing as the warm feeling the stone produced might not extend to its actual temperature. As she turned to the left, she almost walked directly into what would now be her desk, fresh parchment, quills, and inkwells set neatly on the top. Just past the desk was another door that she assumed must be to the bathroom. She turned to inspect the right side of the room and was surprised by the massive wardrobe she had failed to notice that took up most of the wall. It was obviously quite old, large ornate moldings stretched across the top and heavy wrought iron hinges held up thick solid oak doors. The dresser had more than enough doors and drawers to hold three times the clothes Hermione actually possessed.
She opened her suitcase and with one rather complicated looking flick of her wand, every piece of clothing she had neatly tucked itself away into the colossal wardrobe. One small case remained in the bottom of her suitcase. She picked up the case and headed toward the bathroom. This did not disappoint her either. Knowing she would not be sharing a bathroom was a definite relief. The enormous claw foot tub was also a pleasure. At least she knew she would have that to return to after what she knew would prove to be long and arduous days with Snape.
Magic sure is handy, she thought as she finished putting away her things. Her books took up most of the space on the shelves in the sitting room. There was still plenty of space in the sideboard since she had only brought a few muggle snacks from her apartment in London, though she did think wryly of leaving that extra room for the liquor she would no doubt need later on.
Unpacked but still anxious, she settled onto the overstuffed sofa for a well-earned cup of coffee. She glanced at her watch. It was only ten o'clock. There was still plenty of time for a read and perhaps a nap before she had to meet with Snape. Better to be prepared and rested, she thought honestly. A bit of rope and something sharp might come in useful as well.
> > > > > > > > > >
Three o'clock was fast approaching. Snape had prepared a lecture on moonstones, bezoars, and other rocks and their properties in advanced potions. He hoped that would last an hour or so and then he would have her begin to brew the Amana Robusta potion. This used four of the lesser-known rocks and would test her abilities with timing and temperature, as well as keep her out of his way for a few days.
Upon opening his pocket watch, he saw that it was now 2:30. Either she would be early or she would be on time for their second meeting of the day. If she were late, she would find an empty classroom, receive no credit for the day, and would learn quickly not to be tardy.
> > > > > > > > > >
It was 2:30 when Hermione sat down the book she was reading and departed for the potions classroom. A quick nap had helped settle her nerves, but the closer she found herself to the door the heavier her stomach seemed to feel. In what felt like no time at all, she found herself standing outside Snape's classroom. She wondered if he was still angry about her outburst that morning. She knew he would be. She hoped he wasn't. Realizing that standing there like a statue was not going to solve all her problems, she drew back her hand to knock on the door.
"Enter." The resonant voice of Snape shook her from her musings.
She opened the door and walked past the tables, glancing briefly at the desk she, Harry and Ron used to share. Strange, that all seemed like a lifetime ago. Snape was standing at the far end of the room with his back to the door. He did not look at her when she reached his side.
"Good afternoon Miss Granger." His tone proved that he was still mad, confirming her fears.
"Good afternoon sir. How did you know I was at the door?"
"I didn't."
"The wards."
"You are a quick one, Miss Granger." The acidic tone hit a nerve.
"Sorry sir."
"Don't apologize."
Snape turned toward her and Hermione took a hasty step back.
"Jumpy this afternoon? Perhaps next time you will refrain from drinking the entire pot of coffee before coming to our meeting." He did not laugh.
She was not amused. "No sir, I didn't want to stand in your way." She attempted to suppress her irritation.
"It is far too late for that." He said in a biting way only Snape could manage. "Nevertheless, we may as well get used to working together, or at least in the general vicinity of each other." He turned his black eyes up to meet hers. "If you are to pass, you must pay attention during these meetings…"
Hermione interrupted, "Sir, you know I pay attention…"
Snape raised his voice just enough to send a shiver down her back. "Please forgive me." He lowered his voice a little. "This is the standard speech I give to each apprentice. I would appreciate it if you would listen quietly and save all your questions for a later time, say, never. Would it be alright with you if I continued?"
Feeling a bit sheepish for her interruption, she nodded.
"Thank you. Now I expect you to pay attention. I do not like repeating myself so if you have trouble with cognitive memory I would suggest you take notes. We will meet once a week, I will lecture you on something immensely interesting," he gave a snort that might have been a small laugh, "and then I will assign a task to be completed by our next meeting. Have I made myself clear so far?"
Hermione nodded. Snape walked from the workbench the few paces to his desk chair and sank into it. He turned toward his desk, began writing something, and did not look back at her.
"When you are not working on an assignment, I expect you to prepare various potions, salves, and elixirs for the hospital and other staff. You are not required to work on Saturday or Sunday unless the specific potion you are brewing requires it. I have amended the wards to admit you so you may come and go from the lab as you please. There is no need to reset them. Do you understand so far?"
"Yes sir." She walked over to the nearest desk and sat down. After pulling out parchment and quill, she nodded to Snape that she was ready, not that he was actually looking at her.
"Good. Today we will be discussing the effectiveness and various uses of stones in advanced potion making. The 12 different kinds of stones are…"
As Hermione began to take notes, she remembered just how long it had been since Snape had instructed her. All those years had no affect on his style in the least. The one thing Hermione had forgotten about him was how intelligent he was. He never stopped or stumbled during his lectures and he knew the material better than any of her professors at college. The flow of information was superb and she never felt misinformed. She had always been able to correct teachers, but not him. What Snape may have lacked in personality, he certainly made up for in knowledge. When she had first been his student, she was unable to appreciate the level of study that went into potions. The sheer amount of information that had to be absorbed and committed to memory was amazing. The application had to be precise when one too many a counter-clockwise stir could destroy an entire month's work.
As Hermione listened to him talk and feverishly took notes, she was astonished to find an entire hour had passed. Maybe this would not be so bad after all.
> > > > > > > > > >
Snape had reached the end of his lecture and had given the instructions for the week's assignment before he finally looked in Hermione's direction. He had been impressed with her quiet attentiveness. She had not raised her hand once during the lecture, which was quite out of character for the Miss Granger he remembered from so many years ago. He reminded himself that he should know more than most just how much people change. From what he had seen so far, she was still the exemplary student she had been, except refined with age. Maybe this would not be so bad after all.
Noticing the silence, she looked expectantly up from her notes and met his eyes.
"Yes Miss Granger?"
"Is that all sir?" she asked innocently.
"Well, I could go on for days about magical stones but then neither one of us would ever get any work done," he managed to say with a modicum of the normal severity.
She, however, must not have heard the subtle change in his voice. Imitating the tone of his statement, she said, "Right you are sir. Is there somewhere in particular you would like me to set up or would you prefer I left you alone with your stones?" Her face remained impassive.
Snape looked down at his desk, trying to suppress the laugh that was threatening him. The laugh won out. As the unexpected smile spread across his face, he looked up to see Hermione trying to suppress her own look of panic. Perhaps she thought he had looked away in anger. Snape did not care. She had caught him off guard for the third time in one day except that this time he was enjoying it.
She shot him an inquiring smile. He nodded.
"No Miss Granger, I think I can restrain myself for the time being." She smiled a little surer this time.
"Are you sure? I could give you a moment."
"That is quite alright. Thank you for the consideration." He smiled again. "You may set up by one of the windows if you'd like. You no doubt noticed the conspicuous lack of them in your quarters."
"Yes, I had wondered how one would know it was daytime if one were too stupid to read a clock. Thank goodness I learned just before I arrived."
Snape laughed again, the second time in one day. "Yes, thank goodness for small miracles." This time she joined him in the laugh.
He watched as she gathered her things and headed to a table near one of the windows. She was already starting to set up when he stood, gathered up a few papers, and turned to bid her farewell. She beat him to it, in a fashion.
"Professor, I'm glad to say I was wrong." Her tone was neutral and she was facing the wall so he could not see her face.
"Wrong about what?" he asked.
"I guess I won't be needing all that whiskey I brought with me." This time her tone betrayed the smile she was obviously wearing.
"Glad to hear it. Good day Miss Granger." And for the first time in years, Snape left the potions room with a smile on his face.
