Author's Note: Hey guys! Thanks for reading. Please leave a review so I know if ya'll like the story. I have an outline, but I'm basically writing/posting as I go. I'm sure by the end I will have some major editing to do, but I am going to wait until the whole story is finished to make any edits.
Chapter 6
Hermione woke in a daze. After taking a moment to become aware of her surroundings she relaxed back into the overstuffed chair. She placed the book, which had fallen closed in her lap while she was sleeping, on the table next to her. A smile lit her face when she noticed a tray of tea and small sandwiches. The tea was being kept hot with a stasis charm. Feeling her stomach rumble, Hermione grabbed one of the sandwiches and savored the sweet and salty taste of peanut butter and jelly. It was her favorite.
The only source of light in the room came from the large window. It was eerie and made odd shadows dance about the room. She cast a tempus charm that displayed the time as being half past 11pm. She couldn't believe that she slept for so long. After finishing her tea Hermione debated on whether it would be okay for her to walk about the other rooms or if that would be considered snooping. Shrugging her shoulders to herself she decided that this was now her place of work and home, if she wanted to walk about she had every right to do so. Snape would be in his own chamber sleeping anyways. He wouldn't even know.
After slipping on a pair of fuzzy slippers, Hermione pushed open the door of her bedroom and walked out into the little hallway. Casting a furtive glance towards Snape's bedchamber, she made her way towards his office, but as she was passing the lab door she could hear a rhythmic tapping coming from within. Standing outside the door she contemplated whether to enter or not. She knew that it must be Snape inside. She couldn't imagine him allowing anyone else to enter his personal labs, but she wasn't sure if she wanted to intrude. If he was brewing this late at night he probably didn't want to be interrupted. But perhaps she could be of some help.
Pushing open the door a few inches revealed the potions master bent of a cauldron inspecting its contents. His hair was pulled back and tied at the nape of his neck, a few strands not long enough to be ensnared fell around his face. His outer robes were removed revealing a white dress shirt with the sleeves rolled to his elbows. Hermione studied him; he looked different, but not just his attire. He looked more relaxed than she had ever seen him before. Though his eyebrows were furrowed in confusion and concentration, the muscles around his jaw were relaxed. He was not sneering.
Without looking up from the concoction in front of him, Snape said, "It is rude to spy, Ms. Granger."
Hermione felt heat rise to her cheeks and was thankful for the dim lighting. "You would know all about that, Sir." She hadn't meant to say it. She hadn't even realized she had thought it, but the words had slipped past her tongue as she pushed the door open wider and stepped into the room.
She held her breath, waiting for Snape to retaliate. But all Snape did was look at her with a raised eyebrow. She exhaled as he went back to looking at the cauldron that bubbled in front of him. She stepped forward until she stood opposite him and could see into the cauldron for herself. The potion was a deep purple and emitted a light lavender smoke. "It's a healing potion. A strong one." A frown pulled at the corners of Snape's mouth as she continued, "Well, it will be, but it's missing fairy wings. It won't do too much good without them."
Snape grunted in return, but otherwise remained silent. Hermione looked at the man curiously. He had walked towards his ingredient cabinet and contemplated the contents. He grabbed a jar of white flowers with tendril-like black roots. "Our stock of fairy wings were depleted after the war and since they aren't so easy to come by, we will have to make due." He paused as he moved to place the jar in front of her. "Crush these." It was a command, but not stated unkindly.
Hermione took the jar and moved down the counter to have more room. A smile graced her lips as the flowers floated one by one out of the jar and into the mortar she had set before her. He was truly brilliant. The Moly wouldn't be as effective as the fairy wings, but it would work in a pinch. This composition would have to do until they were able to either buy or harvest their own fairy wings and brew the original potions.
And so the night passed in a comfortable silence. Snape would pass Hermione ingredients to be prepared, and without having to be instructed Hermione was able to ascertain how to prepare them based on the ingredients he would gather. Bezoar, Unicorn horn, and Mistletoe berries? Antidote to common poisons. Flobberworm Mucus, Horklump juice, and Lionfish spines? Herbicide potion. Murtlap tentacles? Well, that one was pretty easy. It would be made into Murtlap Essence. If she knew the list of ingredients, then she knew what potion would be made, and therefore how to prepare the ingredients.
It was peaceful. Methodical. It was silent bar the sound of her knife rhythmically cutting through the ingredients or the sound of the flames beneath the cauldrons being monitored by Snape. She hadn't felt this at ease since before the war. That was until she began preparing the ingredients for the Skele-Gro potion. She had just placed 5 of the scarab beetles into the mortar to begin crushing them to a fine powder when Snape's voice cut through the silence, "Stop". Hermione froze with the pestle raised in her right hand and her left grasping the mortar. Her eyes scanned the area in front of her trying to find what had caused his interruption. She knew she needed 5 beetles and she knew they had to be ground into a powder. If the beetles were cut, instead of ground, the potion would result in the new bones would have lumps of calcium deposits on them. So what did she mess up?
"Allow me." Hermione jumped at the sudden presence of the potions master. Hermione shuffled to the side to allow Snape access to the beetles. She watched as he dumped the beetles back onto the counter and summoned a rolling pin. He then proceeded to squish the beetles and a sticky black substance oozed out of them. He syphuned the blood and guts away. "By removing the inner parts of the beetle allows for its exoskeleton to be ground into a finer, less, for lack of a better term, gooey powder. It helps with the taste of the potion. There are no adverse consequences to the user."
Hermione felt that she should be taking notes, but decided against summoning her notepad as Snape was likely to scold her for being a "know-it-all". She hated that term. What was wrong with wanting to know as much as possible about the world around you? It was helpful, not obnoxious. Her knowledge had saved Harry, Ron, and her own life countless times while they were searching for horcruxes. Instead of summoning her notepad, or asking the countless questions buzzing in her head, she nodded her head to indicate she heard and understood.
Snape deposited the beetles back into the Mortar and indicated to Hermione to hand him the pestle that she remained grasperd in her hand. As the pestle exchanged possession their fingers grazed one another. They both froze for what felt like minutes, but could have only been mere seconds. A blue light emanated from where their skin touched. Warmth flooded Hermione's hand, crept up her arm, and settled in her chest. A crackling of magic filled the space around them. She could sense Snape's magic. It was dark, like ink filling a notebook with a tight neat scrawl blanketing the pages. Could Snape sense her magic too? And if he could, what did it feel like?
Snape cleared his throat and Hermione released the pestle. What a silly thought. She must be tired. Snape, likely having the same thoughts, stated, "It's nearing the witching hour. I believe we shall call it a night. I will place the potions under a stasis charm and we will resume in the morning."
Hermione lay awake that night, her dreamless sleep potion forgotten. Her right hand trailed the curvature of her left hand. Scenarios spun through her mind of why she would be able to feel his magic. It wasn't normal, that was for sure. She had touched many witches and wizards in passing, and held Ron's hand countless times. She had even kissed him, but she had never felt his, or any others', magic before. And what was that blue light? She had imagined it, a trick of the light, maybe she had breathed in some potion fumes on accident because whatever she had witnessed, and felt, there was no explanation for. Besides, Snape didn't notice, so it couldn't have happened. After firmly convincing herself of this, Hermione drifted off to sleep.