Disclaimer: Anything you recognise belongs to the immeasurable genius of JK Rowling; I just like to borrow them and play with them.
Chapter 6
A scowl crossed Snape's face when he saw Hermione sitting with Dumbledore, but he said nothing of it as he made his way over and sank into the empty armchair, his usual grace slightly lacking.
"There has been another attack," he said wearily.
The Headmaster nodded, conjuring a third teacup and magicking it, full, to hover in front of the Potions master. When all else fails, make a cup of tea,Hermione thought. It was a habit Dumbledore must have picked up from Mrs. Weasley, or vice versa. "It was to be expected. Were you present?"
Snape nodded. "We were unaware of our destination. We took a Portkey at the last minute. I had no time to issue a warning."
Hermione was troubled by the despair the Potions master was exuding. Not in his face; the cold, indifferent mask was in place, as usual, but in the bitterness of his voice.
"Who was targeted tonight?" Dumbledore asked softly, leaning forward in his chair. The question hung in the air as Snape regarded him through a curtain of lank hair.
"Aurors," said Snape, and then after a pause, "Shacklebolt."
Dumbledore drew in a sharp breath and sat back again, the twinkle abruptly extinguished from his eyes as he took in the news. "Were you hurt?" he enquired.
"No more than anyone else," Snape replied sardonically.
"Severus."
"It's nothing," Snape said firmly, pushing his black hair back from his face.
It was only then the other two occupants of the room could see the bloody gash down the side of his face, disappearing up into his hairline near the temple. Hermione inhaled sharply as she took in the stark contrast of the fresh blood again the pale skin and black hair.
"I assure you," he sneered, with a cursory glance in her direction, "it's not nearly as bad as it looks. I merely became caught in the crossfire. Unlike the other person I encountered on our side tonight, I still have my head."
Hermione wasn't able to stifle her gasp aloud at that, and the Headmaster stood up abruptly.
"Severus!"
Hermione sat there in shock. When Snape had mentioned the attack, it hadn't occurred to her the man had actually been killed. He was an Auror, after all. Weren't they the most formidable wizards in the community? If they couldn't stand up to a Death Eater attack, what hope did the rest of the wizarding world have?
Furthermore, Kingsley Shacklebolt wasn't just an Auror, but also a member of the Order. Though she'd only spoken with the dark man a few times, he'd seemed friendly and good-natured, despite being a powerful wizard with a difficult job. He'd been one of the wizards to rescue Harry from Privet Drive in the summer after the Voldemort's return, and his quick thinking the previous year had saved the lives of many of her classmates when Death Eaters had attacked Hogsmeade. She'd watched him duel in that attack, and he'd seemed a formidable ally. Surely he would have been able to fight off a few Death Eaters. He couldn't really be...
"Dead?" she murmured, barely audibly, but Snape heard her.
"Dead, Miss Granger?" Snape mocked. "Now, why would you think that? We just broke into his house to sit down for a friendly chat with him about world politics."
"Severus," Dumbledore said again. "That was uncalled for."
"So was her question," the Potions master snapped. "What is she even doing here? She has no right to hear any of this."
Hermione stood up and addressed her teacher, failing to keep the annoyance from her voice. "Sir, I'd appreciate it if you wouldn't talk about me as though I'm not in the room. Whatever you want to say, you can say it to my face."
Snape stood up as well, closing the distance between them with a few steps, until he towered over her. She stood her ground, meeting his angry gaze with her own.
"You have no right to be here," he said in a voice of forced calm.
"Severus," the Headmaster's voice cut in again, but they both ignored him. Hermione wasn't about to back down. She hadn't asked to attend the meeting, and she resented the implication her presence was self-inflicted.
"Do you think I want to be here?" she said, still face-to-face with Snape. "Do you think I haven't got enough to worry about this year, with N.E.W.T.s and Head Girl duties, not to mention the fact that a very mad, very powerful wizard is still trying to kill my best friend?"
"You are both here at my invitation," Dumbledore interjected firmly. "I understand your misgivings, Severus-" – Snape snorted - "-and yours, Miss Granger. I only ask that you try to work together."
Hermione looked from Snape to Dumbledore and then sat down, conceding defeat for the time being. Snape, too, resumed his seat, throwing dark looks at the Headmaster.
"Now," said Dumbledore, calmly taking a sip of his tea. "Is there anything else I should know, Severus?"
Snape nodded, absentmindedly rubbing at a trickle of blood about to run into the high collar of his frock coat. He must have discarded the outer Death Eater robe Hermione had seen him wearing last time before coming up to the Headmaster's office.
"The Dark Lord is becoming more and more impatient with me to complete the potion," Snape said. "I don't know much longer I can feign failure."
"Have you had any luck with a counter-potion?" the Headmaster asked. "We cannot afford to supply Tom with such a weapon without an antidote ready at hand."
Snape was shaking his head even before the Headmaster finished speaking. "All my attempts so far to counter the effects of the cowbane have failed. Hemlock would be the obvious choice, but when combined with the other ingredients, it reacts with the cowbane to magnify the pain instead of nullifying it."
Hermione didn't need to hear any further description of the potion's ingredients to realise it was an ugly brew. Although she'd never used it, cowbane was the primary ingredient in Painful Death, a potion often used to put magical creatures to death if they caused injury to witches or wizards. The thought of Voldemort intending to use a similar potion on humans turned her stomach.
"I only have so much time to spend on the antidote," Snape said, pinching the bridge of his nose tiredly with two fingers. "I still have marking to do for my classes, and the infirmary stocks cannot be depleted at a time like this. Furthermore, I have to keep a stock of decoy potions on hand in case I am summoned, to demonstrate my apparent progress to the Dark Lord."
"There is much to be done," the Headmaster agreed, nodding, "however the creation of the counter-potion must be our top priority."
"I realise that," Snape said, "but there's only so much I can do without resorting to using one of those inane Time Turners, and you know very well that potions brewed in time loops are useless. I could only use the device to gain some extra hours for marking."
At the mention of Time Turners, Dumbledore's gaze drifted from Snape to Hermione. "Miss Granger, you're taking the Medicinal Magic class this year, are you not?"
She nodded, and he regarded her thoughtfully for a moment. "Severus," he addressed the Potions master, "do you feel Miss Granger would be capable of brewing the potions required for the infirmary?"
Hermione looked from the Headmaster to the Potions professor, wondering how he would respond to that question. He wasn't exactly known for handing out compliments, especially where Gryffindors were concerned, but he couldn't deny her potions were always top notch.
"I believe Miss Granger could produce adequate brews," Snape replied, smirking, as though daring her to question his assessment.
"Excellent!" Dumbledore exclaimed. "It's settled then!"
"What?" Hermione and Snape both spoke at the same time.
Dumbledore regarded them both from over the top of his half-moon glasses, the twinkle suspiciously returning to his eyes. "Miss Granger can brew the potions for the infirmary," he declared, "leaving you, Severus, with more time to concentrate on your other endeavours."
Snape let out a rather loud sigh and leant back in his chair, staring at the ceiling as he muttered under his breath, "Very well."
Very well? Hermione thought, turning to stare at the man incredulously. Since when did Snape agree to share his workload with a Gryffindor student? She knew Dumbledore would have his way in the end, but she'd never known the Potions master not to voice his objections when being forced into something untoward. Vehemently, at that.
"It seems, Miss Granger," Snape bit out impatiently, "that the Headmaster, in his all-knowing wisdom, will see us working together whether we like it or not."
Dumbledore chuckled. "I don't pretend to be all-knowing, Severus. I merely know more than you."
The Potions master glowered and Dumbledore chuckled again.
"I'm sorry, sir," Hermione said. "I recognise the importance of the task, but when am I to find the time? I have a full class schedule as well as my Head Girl duties and..."
She trailed off and looked to the Headmaster.
"I believe half of the Medicinal Magic curriculum covers healing charms, while the other covers potions," he stated. "Therefore, you may continue to attend the charms classes, and use the potions classes to brew for Professor Snape."
"You want me to drop part of the class?" Hermione burst out.
"I would imagine you'll receive full credit for the potions section of the class," Snape offered, smirking again, "provided your potions are of the standard expected for infirmary supplies."
"Come now, Severus," the Headmaster said, smiling broadly. "We both know Miss Granger's potions will be nothing short of perfect. Why, wasn't it just the other day you were telling me what a shame it was you couldn't award points to your most brilliant student because she was a Gryffindor?"
Hermione stared incredulously at her professor for the second time that night. The pink spots that appeared high on his cheeks only confirmed Dumbledore's pronouncement. She had to work desperately to stop a broad grin from breaking out on her face. She had been hoping for a commendation from the Head of Slytherin since her first year, and despite it not being delivered directly from the man, it still gave her a warm glow of happiness to know her efforts in Potions hadn't been entirely in vain.
"Yes, well," Snape said, as he stood up and folded his arms across his chest. "I'm sure your assistance will be... useful."
"I'll do the best I can, Professor," she said, allowing a small smile to cross her face.
"Wonderful," Dumbledore said, clapping his hands together as he stood up behind his desk. "I think that concludes our meeting tonight. Miss Granger, thank you for your assistance with the Wolfsbane Potion earlier. Severus, I will organise a meeting with the Order at the earliest possible convenience to discuss the news, but in the meantime, was there anything else you wished to discuss?"
The Potions master shook his head, pushing his hair back from his eyes. Hermione noticed a few strands had stuck to the drying blood down the side of his face.
"Very well," said the Headmaster, also watching the Snape. "Severus, perhaps you will allow Miss Granger to look at that before you leave."
"Thank you, Headmaster," Snape said, scowling, "but I'm quite capable of healing it myself."
"Oh, I know you're quite capable," Dumbledore said cheerily, "but Madam Pomfrey tells me Miss Granger is the top of her class, and even I'm not too comfortable pointing my wand at my own face. Miss Granger, will you see to Professor Snape before you leave?"
"Yes, sir," she nodded, not failing to notice the scowl on Snape's face deepen.
"Good," said the Headmaster. "I will see you both tomorrow." He exited his office through a side door Hermione hadn't noticed before, leaving her alone with the Potions master.
Might as well get this over and done with, she thought. She stood up and moved towards Snape, but he held out his hand to stop her coming any closer.
"Not so fast, Miss Granger," he said. "I'm quite capable of handling this myself, despite what the Headmaster thinks. You can be on your way."
"But-" she began.
"No buts, Miss Granger," he said, raising his voice slightly. "Can you not tell when you are not welcome?"
Not around you, she thought. He had always treated her with the same cold indifference he afforded the rest of the students. She had been foolish to think his attitude toward her would change after the events of the past week, even if he had been almost pleasant to her when they were making the Wolfsbane. It was obviously a momentary lapse on his part, and, to Hermione's dismay, unlikely to happen again.
He strode past her to the door, meaning to open it and usher her out, but as his hand came into contact with the handle, it emitted a stream of red sparks and he pulled his arm away with a jerk. He stared at his hand for a moment, rubbing his palm, and then withdrew his wand from up his sleeve.
"Finite Incantatem," he intoned, and then reached for the handle again, only to receive another jolt and another shower of sparks.
Hermione watched interestedly as he tried a series of spells, all designed to drop wards, cancel silencing charms or open magical locks. After each one, the result was the same, and he eventually gave up.
"Blasted old fool," he said under his breath, rubbing his right palm with his left hand again, ignoring Hermione completely as he strode to the fireplace.
"I trust you know the password to your common room?" he said over his shoulder, as he took a pinch of Floo Powder and stepped into the fireplace himself. Not waiting for answer, he threw down the glittery dust and snapped, "Potions classroom!"
A moment later, he stepped back out of the fireplace, brushing the Floo Powder from his robes where it had fallen, useless as fairy dust. Hermione tried to conceal her amusement. She had realised halfway through Snape's attempts to open the door what was happening. Dumbledore hadn't just asked her to see to the Potions master's head before they both left, he'd insisted upon it. And what the Headmaster wishes, the Headmaster gets, she thought, and cleared her throat loudly.
Snape looked at her still standing in the middle of the room. "Well, don't just stand there, girl," he groused. "Do you want to be stuck in here with me all night?"
"It seems, Professor," she said, with only the slightest trace of amusement, "that neither of us will be able to leave here until Dumbledore's wishes are fulfilled."
"And what wishes are they?" he snapped, turning to her.
She pointed to his face.
"I told you am perfectly capable of taking care of it myself, Miss Granger," he stated angrily.
"I know that," she said calmly, in an effort to abate his anger. "But it seems neither my wishes nor yours matter."
He stared around the room for a moment, as if searching for another way out. Then, with a sigh of annoyance and something muttered under his breath which sounded suspiciously like, meddlesome old man, he crossed the room to stand in front of Hermione.
She looked up at him.
"Well, get on with it," he said, exasperated. "The sooner you heal the damn scratch, the sooner we can be free of each other's presence."
"Could you sit down, sir?" she requested waspishly. "I can't exactly see what I'm doing when you're towering over me in such a manner."
He raised an eyebrow at her tone, but, realising she was his only way out of the Headmaster's office, conceded his height advantage and lowered himself into the same chair she had occupied earlier.
Feeling a lot less intimidated, she pulled out her wand and moved to his side to examine the cut. He was right, it really wasn't all that bad; it had just bled a lot, as head wounds were apt to do. She spoke a cleansing charm so she could see the actual cut more clearly, and then set about performing the healing charm she had learnt earlier that year.
He watched her carefully at first, but then closed his eyes as her wand came nearer to them. She furrowed her brow in concentration as she reached the end of the incantation, and was delighted to see the cut disappearing completely under her steady wand.
"There," she said softly, lowering her wand and reaching her other hand out to touch the unbroken skin. "As good as-"
As soon as her fingertips came into contact with his face, he jerked away, staring wildly about, as if he'd momentarily forgotten where he was. His dark gaze eventually came to rest on her, and her hand, still extended only inches from his face.
"I, uh... sorry," she faltered, "I was just making sure there wouldn't, uh, wouldn't be a scar. May I?"
She gestured to her outstretched hand, and there was an awkward silence before he nodded, turning his face slightly away from her. She reached out tentatively, her fingertips just touching the skin of his temple. When he didn't flinch or pull away, she pressed a little more firmly and ran her hand slowly down the side of his face, following the now-invisible line of the wound.
He closed his eyes again, and exhaled a breath. Or was that a sigh? she thought, taking the opportunity to study him while he was unaware. His whole demeanour had changed in the last few minutes, from one of defiance to one of resignation... or was it contentment? As she ran her fingers further down his face, feeling the slight stubble just breaking the skin near his jaw, she could have sworn he shivered under her touch.
Suddenly, she realised his eyes were open again, and he was watching her. Reluctantly, she pulled her hand away and stepped back from his personal space.
"There," she said again. "As good as new."
His dark eyes were unreadable as he brought his own hand up to trace the side of his face, mimicking her earlier path. She returned his gaze, vaguely aware of some strange feeling she couldn't identify warring with the discomfort in the pit of her stomach. It wasn't fear... could it possibly be… anticipation?
Don't be daft, Granger, she scolded herself. Anticipation for what?
She didn't get a chance to address that question, because at that moment, the door to the office suddenly flew open in a flash of green sparks.
"I would imagine that is our cue to depart, Miss Granger," Snape said, standing up.
Hermione was dismayed to see him revert back to his normal disposition once again. Just another lapse in his concentration, she thought. The Potions master returns.
Reluctantly, she let him usher her wordlessly out of the office, and down past the spiral stairs and stone gargoyle to the main hall. Not expecting another word from the aloof teacher, she made to head upstairs to the Gryffindor common room when his voice halted her.
"Miss Granger!"
She turned, her foot on the first step. "Yes, sir?"
He looked around quickly, as if making sure they were safe from any hidden ears of wayward students out past curfew.
"That was a commendable effort on the Wolfsbane Potion, Miss Granger," he said. "Your assistance was..." he searched for the right word, "appreciated."
"Thank you, sir," she said, struggling to keep a neutral expression on her face. "I'm glad I was able to help."
He nodded, and then spun on his heel, striding to the dungeon stairs and disappearing down into the darkness.
When Hermione turned back to her own staircase, she stopped fighting her emotions and let the huge grin she had been suppressing spill out across her face.
To be continued
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