Chapter 14
Poking her head through the doorway Hermione looked in on the Potions Professor at work.
The room was completely different to the other labs in the castle. The far wall was lined with bottles and jars of ingredients, selves reaching up to the eight foot high ceiling. Unlike the student storeroom, each bottle was neatly named in the same slanted scrawl that was written all over her potion essays when they were returned. The shelves and bottles alike were dustless and in impeccable order. To the right of the door were cupboards nearly overflowing with apparatus, cauldrons of any material and of any size, bottles, flasks, stoppers, stirring rods, all stacked orderly behind the clear, possibly glass doors. To the left, two small meters of wall were covered with pigeonholes each containing manuscripts of varying age. The wall to the far right consisted of a lonely stone fountain for washing materials, to the left vials and bottles of completed potions in storage much like the waiting potion ingredients but like the apparatus, behind a clear screen.
In the centre of the room stood a long bench, white, much like Muggle laboratory bench with several cauldrons simmering away at various stages. A lone figure stood in the room hovering over each of the cauldrons in turn, noting different qualities in a leather bound book, muttering a comment to himself every so often.
As silently as she could, Hermione slipped into the room watching the master at work. He was currently completely engrossed in a cauldron at the end of the table nearest to her but seemed unaware of her presence. As he stirred with the glass stirring rod his expression was hidden behind the curtain of dark greasy hair. He had devested himself of his outer most robes, leaving him free to work without obstruction.
Taking out the rod he wiped it carefully on a piece of paper towel before laying it down. Without warning he picked-up the cauldron he had been working in and threw it against the wall with a large crash.
Hermione screamed ducking out of the way of the splatter. Severus's head shot up, his eyes locking with hers.
"Hermione, what are you doing here?" he asked, glaring at her.
"I just wanted to see if… whether…I came to see if there was anything I could do to help," she finally told him.
"Why do you think that I would be requiring your help?"
"Nothing, I just though you might like some company. Even you must get lonely at times," she said pleadingly. The Professor's expression tightened. "I didn't mean it like that. It's just that you spend so much time down here by yourself," she quickly added.
"Did it ever cross your mind that I might enjoy being alone?" he spat back at her from the other side of the bench.
"I'm sorry. I'll just go now," she said defeated as she turned to the door. But before he left her line of vision he was signing again.
"If you really want to stay you can start by helping clean up this mess." Turning to face him fully, a small smile graced her lips. "The rags are in the bottom of the cupboard over there," he added pointing near the fountain.
Slipping off her robe she filled a small bucket and grabbed two rages making her way back to the other end of the relatively small room. Together they set about cleaning the magic resisting ingredients left on the floor. Due to some property of the cupboard doors there was not a scratch there, not a drop of potion. It had all run straight to the floor.
Within minuets the floor was spotless and the cauldron replaced in the cupboard.
"What are all these?" Hermione asked looking at all the cauldrons at different stages.
"My work," he answered without elaborating.
"Should I know any of these potions," she asked peering at one in particular.
"No, they are all new creations," he told her curtly.
"For what?"
"You." Hermione stood there stunned watching him. He had gone to all this work of her? Creating the potions for hours on end to return her hearing? No one had ever gone to that trouble for her before.
"If you would like something to do, Madam Pomfrey needs a fresh batch of Wart Removal Cream. I can trust that you know how to create that simple potion?"
"Yes Sir," she finally replied slipping back into teacher-student mode.
"Well get to it," he added moving back to one of his own creations. "I trust you can find everything you need. It's all ordered."
The rest of the evening was spent in a peaceful silence, like it could be anything other. Hermione worked independently on her little project while he continued to observe and record.
By the time she had finished the Professor was leaning against the cupboards opposite her under the pretence of reading his journal but instead watching her over the top of the page.
Why had he snapped at her earlier? 'Because she deserved it,' he told himself. Why did he let her stay? 'Because I was sick of her nagging.' Why did he tell her to brew the order for Madam Pomfrey? 'Because she had insisted.' And why was he staring at her now? 'Because I'm going as senile as Dumbledore,' he grumbled to himself not believing for a moment his supposed reasoning. Turing his eyes away from her swaying figure as she walked to the fountain he focused on the fresh ink.
A light tapping on his arm caught his attention a moment later. "I'm done Professor," she told him, barely two feet away.
"Alright, it's time you had a shower and went to bed, as I do believe it is past 10," he told her moving away to gather his cloak. Together they made their way back to the second floor.
This was how it started, a simple meeting which flourished into a working relationship. Whenever he was in the laboratory working on her 'cure', Hermione was there with him, doing a great deal to help. From simple tasks such as setting up equipment, to more important like completing reaction equations.
ooOOoo
Over their time together their relationship had somehow slipped from teacher-student to one where they were both on equal ground. Hermione's time was divided between her research and homework during the weekdays, more reading and laboratory work in the evenings and time with her friends during the afternoon and on weekends.
The boys had taken her to Hogsmeade one weekend but she found it relatively boring looking at Quidditch Supplies without being able to do her own thing. She did however admit being out of the castle was definitely a change.
Another weekend she had attended a Quidditch match between Slytherin and Ravenclaw. To start out with the emotions running wild had heightened her enjoyment of the game until the point where she became dizzy. Not only that, she kept feeling something lurking just out of range, there but just not quite, which was very unnerving. Eventually she gave in and left.