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Hermione was still surprised that Snape had entrusted her to teach in his stead although it was Minerva who had mooted the idea. She briefly wondered what his 'unavoidable' and 'unchangeable' engagements were but Minerva hadn't elaborated. Hermione hadn't asked Snape either because the idea that he even had something private on the side seemed so foreign. Or not, considering how he had been a double agent once. Perhaps, she should have asked.

But he had been so intoxicating – there was just no other word for it. Half of her brain had shut down last night after they had gone past all the serious talk. And the other half had melted into a lava when he bade goodbye to her in that ridiculously intense way. She didn't know why he made her feel the way she did, only that she definitely didn't experience the same thing with Ron. It made her want to think of him as Severus now.

When she went down to breakfast in the morning, Severus had not been there. Part of her was relieved that she didn't have to see him after what transpired the night before but a part of her was a little disappointed. It was her birthday, after all, and she did tell him. What a surprise it was, then, when a neatly wrapped rectangular parcel descended into her toast.

"Another book, Hermione?" asked Pomona while spearing a sausage. "No idea how you fit them all into your bookcase. Won't be surprised if I see your shelves stick out of the castle's wall one day."

Hermione laughed. "I don't have that many, actually. Some are stored in the library."

She unwrapped the parcel carefully. It was a slightly worn but readable copy of Dark Arts Through The Ages. Her eyes widened. Surely not? She flipped the cover and saw it had been signed by the author at some point.

A message floated into view on the adjacent page.

Happy Birthday. May you receive much pleasure in reading this.

It is from my personal collection at home.

— SS

So much for wanting to borrow it, thought Hermione. But she felt pleased that he had sent such a thoughtful gift. Was this why he was not at breakfast? Of course not, she chastised herself for the silly thought. With a wave of her wand, she sent the book to her rooms. In the meantime, several packages of varying sizes had arrived for her but she had sent them all to her rooms; she knew they were from friends and family, and could wait until after her lessons. She had no intention of drawing attention to herself or her birthday. Pomona was already eyeing her with a strange look.

-.-.-.-.-

Hermione frowned as she watched a group of second years in the middle of concocting the Swelling Potion. It was a combined lesson with Ravenclaws and Hufflepuffs. At least for this batch of students, both houses were rather civil with each other, some even friendly.

But the swelling potion was no trivial matter. One wrong mistake and half the class would have huge boils. She only hoped Snape had left enough Deflating Draught to go around should the entire class and her become victims of a horrid accident.

So when a group of two Ravenclaw boys and two Hufflepuff boys started jostling each other (she had no idea what started it), Hermione swept over to them, wand in hand and a little wave caused the four students to spring apart. She glared hard in a way she hoped resembled the actual Potions professor. "Twenty points from Ravenclaw and Hufflepuff each. This potion is not to be mucked about with. If any of you cause injuries to the rest of the class, it will be detention," she barked.

The boys smirked at each other. Hermione could roughly guess what direction their thoughts lay in, so she added, "With Professor Snape. Here in the dungeons."

They paled significantly. And that little demonstration of her authority as a professor went a long way because the rest of the class passed without much hiccup except for a careless Ravenclaw girl who had plunged her finger into the vial of potion while trying to stopper it. After the class had cleared out except for the girl, Hermione applied a small amount of the Deflating Draught on the girl's finger. In a few seconds, the swelling reduced and her finger was back to normal. The girl mumbled an apology for the umpteenth time and her thanks before shuffling out of the classroom.

Hermione took a deep breath and slumped into the chair, resting her head on her hands. Being a substitute teacher for another subject made her a nervous wreck because she wanted to make sure that the students were not under-taught. And she could not gauge what the response from the students would be for other subjects so it made her even more on edge to make sure no one accidentally – or intentionally – harmed another student.

"Is everything alright, dear?"

Hermione jumped out of the chair, crashing her knees onto the underside of the desk and wincing. "Quite alright, Minerva. How may I help you?"

"I just wanted to check if you were holding up fine taking over Severus' Potions lessons for the day. But you didn't look very well."

"Just the pressure of matching Professor Snape's standards." Hermione gave a sheepish smile.

Minerva move towards her and rested a hand on Hermione's shoulder. "I know it is your birthday today." At this, Hermione made to interrupt but Minerva held a hand up before continuing, "I also know you don't like any fuss. But won't you allow an old woman to take tea with her favourite student?"

"You're far from old."

"The aches in my body tell me otherwise."

Hermione gave the woman a spontaneous hug, her thoughts straying to the conversation with Severus the night before. "I'd be delighted to have tea with you."

Minerva patted her hair down as Hermione drew back. "Excellent. And you can tell me all about how you are progressing with the preparations for the anniversary event. I know we talked about it just the other day but I am quite curious to see how you develop that model."

-.-.-.-.-

Before Hermione returned to her quarters much later, she stopped by the dungeons and let herself into Severus' office. There was no sign of him there. She knocked on the door leading to his rooms but there was no answer. Was he still not back yet? He hadn't been present during lunch and dinner.

She spent her evening sorting out more letters, cards and gifts sent by friends who seemed to miss her very much and suggested a meetup on the weekend. After writing replies to all of them and agreeing to their plans, she surveyed the small lot of gifts on her table.

Harry had sent a self-warming mug with the words 'BEST FRIEND' emblazoned on it and flashing in different colours. It came with a matching coaster and lid. Hermione liked it very much and resolved to change out her old mug.

Ron had sent a box of nausea-inducing chocolates for "days when she didn't feel up to teaching." She rolled her eyes and tossed them into the trash. Although they were still friends of sorts after all that had happened, it was evident he still didn't know her well enough.

Ginny had sent a bracelet with tiny charms that moved when touched. Hermione was impressed with the ballerina that did a pirouette in mid-air. She made a mental note to wear it when meeting them on the weekend.

Luna had given her yet another free year of subscription to The Quibbler and a t-shirt branded with the magazine's logo and Hermione's name on the back. It resembled a Muggle sports jersey; definitely one that would be put to good use.

Her parents, who were still enjoying their lives in Australia, had sent her a battery-operated Instant camera and a blank photo album to "record her memories of school life from the eyes of a teacher." It was a sentimental gift of sorts but Hermione wasn't sure if Instant cameras would work within the Hogwarts boundaries. She'd have to test it out sometime during the day.

But the gift that was calling out to her was the book. From Severus. Hermione checked the time. It was late enough that he should be back. She wanted to see him— no, to thank him. In person. After all, it was quite a personal gift.

She headed down to the dungeons through the deserted stairwell, book in hand. She knocked on the door before slipping into Severus' office. It was still the same as it had been when she had dropped by earlier in the day. The fireplace was unlit so cold air was now stagnant in the room. It smelled faintly medicinal but comforting at the same time. The only difference was a coat draped over the high-backed chair behind the table.

He was back, then. Hermione approached the tapestry blocking the entrance to his quarters, fully intending to knock but saw the door was already ajar. She thought it was strange how a meticulous person like him had not properly secured his entrances. But she shook her head as soon as the thought had entered. Perhaps he was in a hurry to retrieve something and would be out soon. So she pushed the door and went in, uninvited, to his parlour. The fire was crackling at a low temperature making the room warm enough but not too warm. He was nowhere in sight but Hermione heard some movement from the inner area.

"Just about time. What took you so l—" Severus' voice came closer and the man himself appeared. "Granger?"

Hermione dropped her book in surprise at the sight before her. His hair was a mess, his long-sleeved white shirt was unbuttoned in the front, exposing a strip of lean and muscular chest, the sight of which made the back of her throat go dry. "Hi," she croaked.

Severus' eyes flitted to the door before landing on her. "I didn't realise it was your habit to enter into other's living quarters uninvited."

Hermione felt a flush rising on her face. "I wanted to, well … the book."

His eyes now went to the book that was lying on the floor then landed on her again. "If there is no other urgent matter, let's talk about it tomorrow. I'm busy tonight."

As if on cue, Hermione heard a feminine voice coming towards the doorway to his quarters. "Se-vehr-oos, I brought the di—" Chérie Dujardin stopped upon seeing Hermione in the parlour. "I didn't re-uh-liez you were expecting a guest?"

Dujardin was dressed in what Hermione thought was a cross between a slinky negligée and a long-sleeved maxi dress. Her long blonde hair was down instead of the usual up-do she sported in the daytime. The ends of her hair ended at the same elevation where Hermione could see the start of a rather deep cleavage. The Frenchwoman brought her arm down behind her back. That small movement shifted the confusing black outfit just enough for Hermione to catch a glimpse of creamy thighs peeking from underneath the slits on the sides.

Hermione suddenly felt the turtle-neck jumper and pyjama bottoms under her cloak were too suffocating. "Busy, indeed. My apologies for intruding into your private hour and space, Professor Snape." She picked up the book and, without turning backwards, marched out of his quarters.