Chapter Four

Next to Slytherin/Gryffindor Potions lessons, staff meetings were Severus' least favorite things about teaching at Hogwarts. The other professors, seated around a long, rectangular table in the wood-paneled staff room, whined to Dumbledore about misbehaving students, low supplies in the store rooms, new curriculums and the pros and cons of Hogsmeade weekends while Severus silently drank endless cups of tea throughout the seemingly endless meeting, saying nothing except to interject scathing remarks every time he was asked his opinion on something. Invariably Argus Filch, the castle caretaker, would show up towards the end with his mangy cat, Mrs. Norris, to try and get assorted students expelled, or at least permission to use physical punishment on them. His eyes would gleam as he'd talk about the well-oiled manacles he kept hanging from his office ceiling, just in case.

Sure enough, Sunday night after Madam Hooch had requested a few replacement brooms for the ones the second year Creevey twins had smashed during a flying lesson and before Professor Trelawney could begin to tell everyone which student's death she had predicted this year, Filch appeared, Mrs. Norris twining about his ankles.

"Professor Dumbledore, Sir," he said obsequiously, flashing a revolting smile of crooked yellow teeth, "I'd like to discuss the matter of Miss Ginny Weasley with you, Sir."

"Go ahead, Argus," the headmaster said benevolently.

"Mrs. Norris here tells me," he bent and stroked the cat lovingly, "that Miss Weasley's been sneaking around after hours, up to who-knows-what. I also have reason to suspect that she's taking orders for nasty items from her brothers' horrible shop of pre-made disasters." Severus wrinkled his nose at the thought of any and all Weasleys, but had to admire the eloquent way Filch had just described Weasleys' Wizard Wheezes. And it sounded like Miss Weasley was taking after her older twin brothers.

"Well, Argus, have you seen the girl out after curfew?" asked Albus.

"No sir," he replied, obviously crushed.

"Has anyone else?" The professors all shook their heads. "And it is perfectly within school rules to take orders for items from a shop, whatever the shop may be. I should think she's doing her brothers a great favor, bringing them more business." The headmaster's eyes twinkled. "Is that all, Mr. Filch?"

"Yes sir." The disappointed caretaker took his leave, Mrs. Norris close behind him. Marvelous, thought Severus, more fake wands, Skiving Snackboxes, Canary Creams… Oh yes, he knew all about the wonderful merchandise Fred and George had invented. He had a box full of the confiscated junk in his office.

"Well, if there's no more business to discuss?" Dumbledore swept on, either not noticing Sybil Trelawney open her mouth to speak or deciding to ignore her. "I'm afraid I have a rather unpleasant announcement. Miss Granger, our dear Head Girl, received the news on Christmas day that her paternal grandmother had passed away." Soft murmurs of sympathy filled the room, though Severus remained silent. "As always when a student looses a family member, I would like to ask you all to remain available if she feels the need to talk."

Merlin's beard, Severus thought to himself. I can see it now: Miss Granger stumbling into my office, tears streaming down her face, saying "Professor Snape, I feel the need to talk." Having a cold, distant personality had definite advantages; no one, student or otherwise, ever felt the need to talk with him. Thank Circe. However, it was awful that her grandmother had died on Christmas.

"I would also like to inform all of you that she is headed for University after her graduation to study the ways Muggle technology and magic can be used together, and it would help immensely if she could collect letters of recommendation from most or all of her professors." Everyone at the table nodded in agreement, although Severus merely made an almost imperceptible jerk of his head.

"I see there's nothing more on the agenda," Albus said, glancing at a parchment on the table in front of him, "so you are all dismissed. The next meeting is the last Thursday of this month."

Severus hurriedly gulped the last of his tea and exited the staff room before he got caught up in the annoying small talk that always followed these dreadful functions. The last Thursday of January couldn't come slowly enough for him. Sweeping off down to his dungeon rooms to go over the lesson plans for tomorrow, the first day of the new term, his mind drifted back to Hermione Granger. Simply awful. Poor girl. Even if she is a Gryffindor.

Hermione was glad the new term had started. She needed to keep her mind busy and not dwell on negative things. Unfortunately, her mind had decided to replay the events of the holiday, keeping Hermione awake on Sunday night. She tossed and turned in bed as her brain sped through the unpleasant happenings of the last couple of weeks.

After the funeral she'd returned home with her family to spend the rest of the holiday with them. She and her sister had snapped at each other all during the long car ride home; consequently, their parents had snapped at them and at each other, so when they arrived at their modest two-story home in Windsor, patience was thin and tempers were barely in check. She'd gone straight up to her room, slammed the door, and fell onto her bed sobbing. She didn't go down to supper that night and no one came up to bother her.

By breakfast the next morning everyone was feeling better. Her father spread out some old photo albums and they all looked through them, telling stories about Grandma Granger while sitting on the comfortable sofa in the living room. Hermione remembered her first tap recital when she was eight (a disaster, which was why she only took a year of lessons) and the look on Grandma's face as she clapped enthusiastically at the end of the show. Her little sister recalled how Grandma had shown up as a surprise for her seventh birthday. Dad told the girls stories about his mother as he was growing up, and brought out a jewelry box from the boot of the car.

"Grandma wanted you girls to have these," he told them as he placed it on the kitchen table before lunch, opening it to reveal all kinds of earrings, bracelets, old watches, hair pins… but the thing that caught Hermione's eye was the sapphire pendant glittering on a white gold chain that was stored in a blue velvet bag in the bottom drawer. It matched the earrings she'd received for Christmas, which she still wore; they had round sapphires set in white gold attached to the posts and teardrop-shaped sapphires dangling from them. Reverently she unwound the chain and let her father take it and clasp it around her neck. "You look so much like pictures of her when she was your age," he said, his eyes tearing.

Hermione returned to the living room and emptied a manila envelope onto the coffee table. She found the photo she was looking for, one of her grandmother right after her high school graduation, just before she got engaged to her grandfather. (She hardly knew him; he'd died when she was five.) The edges of the picture were a bit ragged and the photo itself was yellowed a little, but she could tell she did look a lot like her grandmother. Hermione's hair was bushier and her lips were fuller, but she had her grandmother's pretty brown eyes and small nose. She turned the picture over and saw on the back in her grandmother's beautiful looping handwriting, "Claire Jane Archer, Senior Year." Taped underneath the writing was a small plastic bag containing a lock of brown hair; her grandmother's, of course. She had cut it just before the picture was taken. Bringing the photo into the kitchen, she'd asked her father if she could keep it. "Of course, sweetheart." She wanted to put it on her bedside table at school, to remind her of the wonderful woman her grandmother had been.

She'd divided up the jewelry with her sister, most of which was too fancy to wear very often, and left all of it but the sapphire set at home. She wanted to keep the set at school with her.

Hermione had cried no few times during the remainder of the break, remembering Grandma Granger's smile, her perfume, how she once sat on the big bed in Grandma's bedroom watching her get ready for a fancy dinner. All the birthday cards with money to be spent on books, all the Christmases spent at the Granger house (almost a mansion) in London. All the future holidays with no cards or visits.

She'd spent the trip back to Hogwarts on the train with Ron and Ginny, listening quietly as they described Fred and George's newest inventions, Bill's adventures in Egypt, Charlie's dangerous excursion to capture a Chinese Red dragon, and Mr. Weasley's stories about the illegally enchanted Muggle artifacts he'd found lately. Percy had reconciled with his family last year after affectively disowning them, but, unsurprisingly, there was nothing of interest to report about his job at the Ministry of Magic.

Harry seemed extremely glad to see her and Ron when they got back. He'd had a very uneventful holiday, he told them that night in the common room after supper, being the only Gryffindor at the school over Christmas break. He'd spent a lot of time practicing flying alone on the Quidditch pitch. To Hermione's surprise and delight (and Ron's disgust), he'd even studied a bit for the N.E.W.T.s! And now that Hermione was back at Hogwarts, she was spending almost all of her spare time doing just that.

Yes, it was good to be back, away from saddened family members and memories of Grandma. Classes would start tomorrow and keep her busy, keep her mind occupied. There was her Charms essay due in a couple weeks, Transfiguration practice, Astronomy charts… She yawned and rolled over, drifting slowly to sleep.

Severus knew his mere presence was enough to quiet the rowdiest of classes. Sweeping in from his office, black robes billowing, black eyes flashing, and glaring at the students from the front of the classroom commanded instant silence.

However, when he entered the classroom Wednesday after lunch, it was already quiet. The seventh year Advanced Potions class was his favorite to teach. As much as he could like teaching, anyway. As usual, his Slytherins were right up front. He noticed Miss Granger in the very back, her usual expression of enthusiasm for learning somewhat faded. What's wrong with the girl? he wondered. Shouldn't she already be waving her hand in the air, eager to correct me or add some bit of knowledge completely unrelated to the topic of potions making?

"Textbooks to four-ninety-three," he announced and crossed his arms, folding his voluminous robes about himself. The class did as he bid them, turning to the instructions for making a headache cure. "If you finish the potions early, you may start work on an essay, to be handed in next class period, describing how any three of the ingredients used in the headache cure affect the taker of it. Begin." He sat behind his desk, keeping an eye on the students. Normally he would prowl up and down the aisles, barking orders and drawing attention to errors, but the advanced class was the only one he could relax a bit in. Leaving them to their own devices seemed the best course of action most of the time.

Most of the time. Except now, when Pansy Parkinson literally had her tongue in Draco Malfoy's ear. Draco was attempting to measure out the correct amount of mashed hellebore stem, but he was trying not to laugh as the girl whispered something to him that would make a whore blush. Severus didn't know what the boy saw in her. She wasn't unattractive, but she wasn't beautiful either. She was barely passing all of her classes, and had just scraped by the previous six years at Hogwarts as well. Her head seemed filled only with thoughts of Draco and fluff. Mostly fluff. Surely Lucius has encouraged the relationship in order to keep his bloodline pure, Severus thought. That and a few physical benefits have also… encouraged Draco.

Tearing his mind from those disturbing thoughts, he shouted, "Mr. Malfoy!" as he rose from his seat. He could not stand public displays of teenage lust, especially in his classroom. "Kindly extract your ear from Miss Parkinson's mouth and take a seat at the rear of the classroom. Miss Parkinson," he continued as Draco rose and took his things, "please pay attention to your cauldron and the items you are supposed to be putting into it before something dreadful happens." He watched as Draco sulked to the back row, sitting at the desk across the aisle from Miss Granger. Where's the Hufflepuff girl that usually sits there? Severus wondered. Ill, no doubt. This time of year there's never any shortage of sickness. No wonder, with the way the students are swapping germs right and left. He remained standing at the front of the room for a few more minutes, surveying his students' work.

Since he really had nothing to do at his desk besides grade papers, which he hated to do during class time, he strolled up and down the aisles and along the edges of the room checking on everyone. When he reached the back, he found Miss Granger, as always, intent on her work. However, every few seconds she would glance over to her left at Draco. Severus's curiosity kicked in and he stood quietly behind them to see what would happen.

At last, Miss Granger couldn't hold herself back any longer. Severus noticed her face had turned a bit pink with the effort. "Malfoy," she whispered. The boy ignored her. "Malfoy!" He turned his head in her direction. "You're supposed to use poppy seeds, not sesame seeds," she said, staring pointedly at the jar on his desk. "We're making a headache cure, not a Whopper."

"What on earth is a Whopper?" he asked, the sneering Malfoy disdain evident in his voice. Every Malfoy Severus had ever known could use that trademark tone perfectly.

"Uh… um…" she stuttered. "Nothing." She flushed more; the tone had worked. She just can't stand not to help someone who needs it, even if the person who needs it is her mortal enemy, Severus thought.

"Why would I accept help from a filthy mudblood like you anyway?"

Hermione rolled her eyes and returned to her work, muttering "Your funeral" under her breath. Severus noticed that Draco discreetly checked his book when she wasn't looking and replaced the jar of sesame seeds with the correct jar of poppy seeds.

Well done, he thought, though he wasn't sure which student he was congratulating.

The next hour was uneventful and the students brewed their potions in peace. Near the end of the period it was time to add the puffapod beans to the mixture. One at a time the students went to the back shelves, took down the jar of bright purple beans and removed three of them, and then returned the jar to the top shelf. Severus, never one to lean, stood stiffly in front of his desk, arms still crossed. A Ravenclaw, Mr. Boot, Severus thought, accidentally bumped one bean off the edge of his desk. Immediately upon impact with the stone floor, the bean burst into bloom. A two-foot-high purple flower was rooted into the rock where the seed had fallen.

"Ten points from Ravenclaw!" Severus shouted. "Remove that weed from my floor; the flowers are of no use to me." Red-faced, the boy got on his hands and knees and tugged at the flower. After several minutes of hard work, it finally came free. Humiliated, he walked to the side of the room and threw it in the bin.

Severus stood silently for a few minutes and let his mind wander. His nightmares had gotten much worse; he was having two or three a night sometimes, and hadn't felt rested since before Christmas. He was abruptly yanked back to reality when he heard a crash from the rear of the room. Miss Granger was standing in the middle of about a hundred puffapod flowers while Draco stood by smirking. Horrified, she cried, "It wasn't my fault, Professor! He shoved me!" Angrily, she waded from the forest of flowers to stand behind her desk, practically shooting lightning bolts at Draco with her eyes.

"Destruction of school property twice in as many class periods, Miss Granger," Severus said silkily as he strode down the center aisle toward her.

"But I didn't do it, Professor Snape," she protested. "I was reaching for the jar, standing on my toes, and Malfoy bumped me from behind! It slipped off and shattered!"

"I thought you said he shoved you; now he bumped you? Your changing story is so very convincing." She clenched her teeth, brown eyes sparking with fury and unshed tears. Severus had no doubt that Draco had bumped—or shoved—Miss Granger, but he could use her potions brewing skills once more, and he wasn't about to punish his "favorite" student. "I think another detention is in order, as well as thirty points from Gryffindor. I'll see you here Friday at eight o'clock, and bring money to replace the puffapods you rendered completely useless with you carelessness. Mr. Malfoy, please go into the storeroom and retrieve another jar of beans." He summoned the key chain from its hook on the side of his desk and handed it to Draco, who strode cheerfully through Severus' office to get to the storeroom door.

Miss Granger sat at her desk, head bent so her long hair hid her tears. The sniffling noises issuing from behind the brown frizz, however, belied that she was, indeed, trying hard not to cry. What is wrong with her? Severus asked himself. It's just detention. She didn't cry last time.

It hit him as he was walking to the Great Hall for supper that evening. Her grandmother just died. He stopped short, one foot on the stairs leading up to the main floor. Her grandmother just died and I yelled at her and gave her a detention for no reason. Severus, you insensitive bastard. Even a Gryffindor doesn't deserve that.

"Insensitive bastard!" Hermione yelled as she entered her dormitory room right after Potions class. A large orange furball stirred on her bed when she slammed the door. "Oh, Crookshanks!" she cried, diving onto the bed next to her cat. Burying her face in his thick fur, she wailed, "I'm too short to reach the top shelf and I know it but I didn't want to get the stool and I'd almost reached it and then Malfoy came up behind me and deliberately shoved me with his elbow in my back and it slipped and fell and all these flowers were shooting up, thank goodness none of them landed on my shoes or robes or something, and Professor Snape gave me another detention and took off thirty more points from my house!" She wasn't so much on the verge of tears anymore as she was just furious. "He shouldn't be allowed to teach if he hates kids that much!" Crookshanks mewed sympathetically.

"Of course Malfoy didn't get in any trouble when the whole thing was his fault," she said sitting up. "He wanted to get me back for trying to help him. I should've just let him melt his cauldron… Yeah, molten metal all over his lap, hot, burning, molten metal." She grinned at the thought, and then sighed. "I sound like Ron. But I don't care! Malfoy deserves it, him and Professor Snape! They can just… die!" She fell back onto the bed feeling a pretty good migraine coming on. She was thankful beyond measure that Lavender and Parvati were already at supper. The last thing she wanted right now was the cooing attentions of those two airheads.

"I've never had a detention before last month, and that wasn't my fault either! Now I have two on my record! How will I ever get into University with all these detentions?" Crookshanks just purred reassuringly. "I know, I'm overreacting, it'll be alright. Just… The N.E.W.T.s are only a few months away, and I have three essays due next week, and my headache cure wasn't even the right shade of pink 'cause I was so mad when I finished it, and Grandma… Oh, Crookshanks," she said as the animal climbed into her lap and nuzzled her chin, "you know just what to do. I wish Harry and Ron were this understanding. Though maybe without the chin-nuzzling." She giggled, feeling slightly calmer.

"I guess I had better get down to dinner." Hermione patted her beloved pet fondly. "Thanks, Crookshanks. I'll bring you back a snack, okay?" He purred louder and she went down to the Great Hall, wishing Friday would never come.

The next day, Tuesday, after supper she had her weekly meeting with Ernie MacMillan, the Head Boy. She met with him every week, and every other week they met with all the fifth- and sixth-year prefects as well. There was nothing of interest to report, unless you counted the second-year Creevey twins knocking out half their class in Herbology when some leaping toadstools got away from them. She and Ernie briefly discussed their Christmas holiday, (Ernie was sympathetic about her grandmother in his own, slightly pompous way), and then they were done.

All too soon it was Friday, and Hermione was once more walking down to the dungeons for a detention. Luckily she didn't encounter Malfoy on the way this time, and arrived at the Potions classroom five minutes early. She debated about waiting outside until the last possible moment, but Professor Snape called, "Well, get in here," from inside. How did he know I was here? she wondered as she entered the classroom.

Just like last time a cauldron, tools and ingredients were set out on the desk nearest the professor. He was grading papers at his massive desk and didn't look up when he announced, "You're making Sweet Dreams Syrup. Begin." Hermione set down her shoulder bag and rolled up her sleeves, noticing that the dozens of puffapod flowers were gone from the back of the room.

"I see you got someone to pull all the puffapod flowers," she said.

"No, I simply used a vanishing charm," he replied.

"If you could just vanish them, why did you make Terry work so hard to yank up the one he dropped?" Hermione liked Terry Boot; they'd worked together on Arithmancy both in class and out of it. Even if the person that had dropped the seed was Pansy Parkinson, Hermione still wouldn't have appreciated the way Snape treated them.

"That is none of your concern, Miss Granger," he said, still not looking up from his papers. "I suggest you get to work unless you want to be here all night."

Insensitive bastard! She realized she was gripping the edges of the instructions paper too tightly and relaxed, vowing not to curse anymore tonight. She read through the directions, including the interesting effect of the potion, and started brewing it.

Severus had finished his supper in more of a hurry than usual and arrived at the Potions classroom at a quarter to seven. He set out the tools and ingredients Miss Granger would need and then rearranged everything four or five times before he made himself stop and sit still in his desk chair. Stop it! he told himself. You're not nervous or guilty. You are master of this school! You gave a student detention for being an idiot. A Gryffindor idiot! Just because her grandmother died a couple of weeks ago does not excuse her clumsiness. A small voice in the back of his head reminded him, But she wasn't clumsy. It was Draco's fault. You should've cut her some slack. You even decided to a few weeks ago. Remember?

Ignoring the small voice, Severus stood and paced the classroom for a while, then sat again and began grading papers. Soon he was absorbed in the task and only looked up when the doorknob to the room glowed blue, indicating that someone was outside. The wards he put on all his doors were very useful. After muttering the password to unlock it, he called, "Well, get in here!" Miss Granger entered and he told her what she was making. He wanted to try it to see if it would help his nightmares. Last night had been particularly bad, and he wished for no more repeats. The way the potion worked was that after taking it he would concentrate on something pleasant, and then all night he would have good dreams about whatever his last thought was. It was worth a try, much as he hated having to depend upon what he called "synthetic sleep."

After asking annoying questions about the puffapod flowers she had spilled, Miss Granger worked silently for the next half hour, chopping, shredding and grinding the ingredients he'd provided from his private stores. He didn't think taking school property for his personal use would be wise or moral.

Halfway through a stack of third-year Hufflepuff essays, Miss Granger interrupted him. "Professor?"

"Yes?" He finally looked up from the parchments and set his black quill in its pot of scarlet ink.

"I can't quite read this." She held up the instructions paper and walked to his desk. He took it from her and squinted at the spot where she pointed. Is it bad when you can't read your own handwriting?

"Clearly this says 'scarab wings'," he said after a moment. He waved the paper at her and she took it.

Ten minutes later, he was interrupted again. "Would you come look at the centaur hoof? I'm not sure how small it's supposed to be chopped."

Putting on his best scowl, Severus rose and stood behind Miss Granger. After briefly inspecting the chopped hoof, he said curtly, "The size is satisfactory," and sat at his desk once more.

They both worked in silence for another ten minutes before she asked, "Did Madam Pomfrey request a batch of Sweet Dreams Syrup?"

"It is not your concern why you are brewing this potion, it is your concern to simply brew it!"

Fifteen minutes after that, she opened her mouth and got as far as "Professor, I was wondering—," before Severus lost his temper.

"Obviously you think you can aggravate me enough to make me regret giving you this detention in the first place. I assure you, it is working, Miss Granger. However I would advise against testing my patience any further, for the consequences may be dire." His dark eyes flashed dangerously.

She glared right back at him. "I was just going to say, Sir, that I was wondering why you're having me brew potions for my detentions instead of making me do more menial labor such as de-braining eels or washing off the chalkboards."

"I would think that was apparent, Miss Granger. Your failure as of late to brew a decent potion has made it clear that you need more practice at it. Your headache cure this afternoon was dismal," he lied, "as was your memory potion a few weeks earlier," he lied again. It was true that her headache cure was a bit below her usual standard, but still serviceable. The memory potion, however, was better than perfect; it was used on a Ravenclaw Beater who got hit in the head with a bludger during Quidditch practice. Days later he was remembering things from years ago he thought he'd forgotten forever. He had done quite well on his exams.

"Bloody hell!" cried Miss Granger, slamming down the knife she'd been using to chop ingredients. "You know damn well that none of my potions have ever been 'dismal'! How dare you!" She advanced on his desk. Severus was struck dumb. He'd never before been at a loss for a sarcastic or biting comeback, but never before had anyone had the nerve to shout at him like this girl was doing.

"What's wrong with you? You pick on me for no apparent reason, blaming me for things that are not my fault, and then you have the audacity to lie about and insult my potions-making ability when I have never made a mistake in your class, not once! I love brewing potions, or at least I did until you started insulting my talent, and don't deny that it is talent." She stomped her foot. "Damn you! Do you have any idea what I have to deal with?" Her voice rose an octave. "Being Head Girl; taking all advanced classes; the N.E.W.T.s are coming up; oh yes, and my grandmother died a few weeks ago! You need to get your selfish head out of your arse and think about someone other than yourself for a change!" She took a few galleons out of her robe pocket and threw them on his desk in payment for the puffapod beans. "Here's the money for your bloody beans!"

Severus could see the tears in her eyes, could see her mouth was trembling and her hands were shaking, but it didn't stop him from saying in a voice like black silk, "Remove yourself from my sight immediately before I do it for you."

Miss Granger stood for a moment, trembling, then grabbed her bag and sprinted out the door, slamming it behind her.

How dare he? How dare she! How dare she talk to me like that! How dare she make me feel like this!

Like what? the small voice asked.

Guilty, he wouldn't admit. That all of it's true.

Hermione somehow made it to the Gryffindor common room, passing few students since the hour was so late, through the portrait hole, and into a chair by the fire with Harry on one side and Ron on the other. Ginny saw her too and came over.

"What happened?" Harry asked.

"Ooh!" she yelled. Ron laid a comforting hand on her arm and Ginny patted her hand. After a moment she'd calmed down enough to say, "Professor Snape!" Her friends waited silently while she composed her anger into coherent sentences. "I was making a Sweet Dreams Syrup for my detention and kept asking him questions. I wanted to annoy him because he annoyed me by giving me detention and taking off house points and everything, and then he told me my potions were awful and I just snapped!"

"We know your potions aren't awful," said Ron.

"I know it too! That's why it made me so angry! He's been picking on me and I don't know why! I've had a lot to deal with lately and this isn't helping!" Her voice cracked.

"We know you have," said Ginny.

"He has no right," said Harry, "none at all to make you feel like this. We should do something—"

"No, Harry," Hermione cut in. "I appreciate the thought but I'm just going to have to deal with him. I mean, I'll be out of here in just a few months, and I'll never have to see him again. I just… oh…" She trailed off and buried her head in her hands.

"What?" asked Ginny. Hermione just moaned. "Come on, it can't be that bad."

"I yelled at a teacher," Hermione said from behind her hair. "I yelled and I cussed. He'll go to Dumbledore about it, they'll take away my Head Girl badge, I just know it."

"I'm sure Dumbledore wouldn't let that happen," said Harry.

"You cussed? At a teacher?" Ron asked incredulously. "What'd you say?"

"Shut up, Ron," said Ginny.

"It was pretty bad. Not the words, Ron, though I've been thinking worse about him. But what I said… What if they expel me?"

"They won't expel you," Harry reassured her. "I mean, I've yelled at Snape loads of times and I'm still here."

"True."

"And they won't take away your badge either," said Ginny.

"I know."

"So relax," said Ron. "Go to bed, sleep; it'll all seem better in the morning." Ginny, Harry and Hermione gave him a funny look. "It's what Mum says when someone's upset," he said quietly.

"You're right, guys. Thanks," said Hermione. She stood and went towards the girls dormitories feeling much better. "See you tomorrow."

She went into her room, shed all of her clothes, pulled on her "Mind the Gap" shirt, and climbed into bed. Crookshanks curled up in the crook of her knee and she fell asleep slowly. It wasn't a particularly restful sleep, though. She dreamt she was brewing a potion on the stage during her tap recital. She watched her eight-year-old self stumble through the routine while Professor Snape stood behind her barking orders she didn't know how to follow. At the end of it, though, Grandma Granger still stood up and clapped.

Severus slammed the door on his potions cabinet shut and the bang! echoed off the stone walls of his living room. He was forced to finish the Sweet Dreams Syrup himself after Miss Granger stormed out on her own detention, and now he was done putting everything away. Grabbing the bottle of Sweet Dreams, he stomped into his bedroom. This time he would undress properly before drinking a potion that would put him to sleep within moments.

Naked, he stood by the head of his bed, the bottle of silver-green liquid in his hand. Still angry about the stupid teenage Gryffindor girl, he gulped down the entire contents of the bottle without much thought. A few swallows would've given him good dreams for an hour or two, but drinking the whole bottle would ensure pleasant dreams all night long. He set the empty phial on his nightstand and climbed into bed, pulling the green sheet and quilt up to his armpits. Woozily he tried to think of pleasant things, like a cabin in the mountains—he'd heard Montana was nice—but thoughts of Miss Granger's rudeness and impetuousness kept intruding. His last thought as he fell deeply asleep was Damn her! Making me think of her even before bed… Damn Miss Granger…

After half an hour, the candles in his bedroom dimmed and put themselves out according to the timer he'd put on them. Severus settled down further into the bed, fast asleep and dreaming like mad. His hands clasped and unclasped over the quilt, green with a black border, his jaw clenched and unclenched, his closed eyes darted left and right.

At dawn he awoke violently. He sat straight up in bed, his hair a tangled, sweaty mess, his shaking body covered in perspiration. Worst of all was the yearning ache in his groin, which he hadn't felt in some time. Panting, he fell out of bed and stumbled into the bathroom. His reflection in the mirror over the sink startled him. He leapt back cringing. He couldn't bear to look at himself, not after what he'd just dreamt. He wanted to yell, scream; he didn't know what to do, what to think!

Before he could consider the consequence, Severus slammed the side of his fist into the mirror. Shards of his reflection, distorted, bent, broken, rained down into the sink and onto the floor. He drew his bloodied hand away and limped to the shower, head hanging, shoulders rounded. He turned it on full blast. Icy water sprayed from the nozzle, and Severus welcomed it. The aches in his hand and between his legs slowly faded, but the images in his mind would not.

Author's Notes: Ooh, angst! It'll get worse before it gets better, but really, that's what the best Severus/Hermione fics are made of, right? It starts to get good soon, I think. They get kind of twitchy around each other. Heehee.

I read somewhere that JKR intended for Hermione to have a little sister, but never actually got around to writing her in so she scrapped the idea. Well, I still liked the idea, so I used it.

I (to the best of my knowledge) invented the Creevey twins. Bwahaha… It just seemed amusing to me. If they're second years now, that would make them four years behind Colin and three years behind Dennis. Poor Mr. and Mrs. Creevey…

I apologize for the lateness of this post, I was out of town for the weekend and this was the soonest I could get it up. Forgive meeeee…

References:

Severus' Montana Cabin: Jewel of the Nile by Anna

Review Replies:

Natsuyori: Thanks so much! Perhaps, eventually, the dreams in this story will come true…

Fujutsu: I love Snape in this story too! He's so much fun to write, thanks.

Transylvanian: Thank you! I will definitely keep on writing.

MagickAllianne: Sorry for the late update, as I said, I was out of town. The next chapter should be up either Friday or Saturday night, barring other things that get in the way, like real life. Pft, the nerve.

Hunter0309: Wow, you were hovering? I feel so special! Heh, yes, I couldn't resist the Lucius cameo. I think he might show up later, too, though I'm not sure. I'll just have to see where this takes me. How can Hermione not be one of your favourite characters? Sobs Just kidding. Hopefully you find her at least tolerable in my story, otherwise you probably wouldn't be reading it! Getting inside "my" characters' heads is awesomely fun; I have JKR to thank for that. Without her, I probably wouldn't have written something this long! Someday I hope to be a "real" writer and actually come up with my own characters (gasp!), but this is good practice. I expect more chapters soon too!