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Chapter 4. Tea
Hermione sat in her cot, scribbling away some notes she'd neglected to take at her most recent, given unexpected, tutoring session with the potion's master that morning. She blinked slowly, furrowing her brows as she tried to remember what it was Snape had said about the Living Death potion she had tried to brew her first class of potions with Professor Slughorn. "Crush the bean, don't cut it." She muttered, putting her quill to parchment once more. The suggestion was familiar to her. Thinking back, she remembered that it was the same action Harry had suggested that very first practical lesson of their sixth year. How did he know to do that though? She wondered, growing ever more frustrated at her best friend's anonymous resource, The Half-Blood Prince. Who was he anyway? Hermione sighed and continued scribbling all the notes she could recall.
"Hermione!" The call of her friend's voice made her jerk to look up from where she was hiding in her notebook. The distraction caused her to shift her position, nearly sending her off the cot, to which Ginny giggled boastfully. Stifling her laughter with the palm of her hand, she approached the flustered brunette with caution. "Sorry, I didn't mean to startle you." The ginger's cheeks were developing a rosy tinge as she attempted to keep the bought of giggles within her lungs.
"No not at all, I was just…" The older witch pondered telling her friend about the private lessons she was getting, but her friends already thought of her as a know-it-all. She quickly surmised that they didn't need to know how competitive she was becoming as she neared graduation. And they definitely can't know I'm getting lessons from Snape, she shivered at the thought of the teasing that would surely follow from Harry and Ginny from that announcement. "I was studying." She decided on. I'm not lying, Hermione mused, I am studying, just not exactly what everyone else is privy to.
Ignoring Hermione's twisted expression, Ginny sat down beside the other girl and continued, "Well anyway, the boys and I were headed off to practice some Quidditch and we were hoping you'd join us! Y'know, to watch, since you missed our match." Hermione paused at her friend's suggestion, which was riddled with guilt, as she thought through what she had been planning to do that day. Harass Severus some more, she considered, making herself crack a slight smile. The thought of sitting in his presence for the rest of the day made her cheeks warm up but she quickly changed her mind and nodded happily.
"I would love to." She exclaimed, shifting her legs off the bed and flattening out her jumper. Hermione didn't much change her clothes over the weekend, staying with something comfortable, a jumper and some jeans. They were the same jeans she'd been wearing the past Friday when Ron was in the infirmary, but that day she'd opted for a burgundy jumper. She reached over to grab her winter coat and a cap to fasten over her curls.
The two girls walked down to the pitch from their tower and Hermione found a seat in the stands that gave her a good view of her friends flying about. Ron wasn't there, probably off somewhere with Lavender. After being checked out of the infirmary, he was quick to rekindle things with the clingy witch. Hermione didn't mind though, her feelings for the boy had definitely all but vanished. It certainly didn't help that she'd had steamy dreams about her professor recently. The young witch was aware it was taboo and against school policy, but she couldn't deny how powerfully infatuated that dream made her feel towards her defence professor. Naturally, she couldn't tell her friends, or she would never hear the end of it, but she was having trouble keeping her feelings bottled up inside.
Hermione knew where Harry hid his potions textbook and had offhandedly thought about stealing it while he was busy with Quidditch one day but dismissed the notion when she realised her feelings for the professor. The more time I get to spend with him, the better, she mused. She'd hoped this tactic would dissuade her from developing further feelings. His snark and criticisms should keep his personality in perspective if she spent more time with him. Her dreams are where he would catch her off guard, seducing himself into her heart.
Ginny whizzed past her, pulling her from her thoughts, and Harry quickly followed after her. It was funny how the two were so blatantly in love with one another but Ron was so oblivious. Hopefully, they would tell him soon, as Hermione was daft at keeping secrets. Especially when it came to something as exciting as the budding romance of her two best friends.
"Miss Granger." The deep purr of her professor made her jump up from her spot, nearly falling back down the stands but Snape caught her, gripping her arm tightly and pulling her back to her feet. "You need to keep your head down from the clouds, Miss Granger, you might…" He paused a moment, assessing her quickly, then looking back at her amber eyes, which were filling with embarrassment. "Miss something." He finished, realising he'd held his grip on her arm. The professor quickly released her and flattened his black robes, stepping back from her. "I have the need for your assistance in brewing for Madam Pomfrey. I expect you in my office immediately after dinner. Understood?" His voice made her shiver, which was thankfully concealed by her over-stuffed jacket. She'd spent the morning brewing a practically useless potion so she was surprised he would allow her to step so quickly into the role of brewing assistant.
"Yes sir, of course. I'll be there." She released a breath she didn't know she'd been holding and sat back down as he left with an exasperated groan. Her eyes unwillingly drifted after him as he started down the steps at the back of the Quidditch seating. The young witch folded into herself and sighed. She had let herself imagine a world in which he felt as deeply for her as she was beginning to feel about him, but his presence easily dismissed the notion. Hermione knew her feelings would never be reciprocated. Defeated, she hugged her midriff and continued watching her friends fly around the pitch at high speeds. Hermione huffed, I wish I'd brought a book to read.
-x-
When the players were on the ground, debriefing after their practice, Hermione cast a tempus charm to check the time. It was nearing dinner time, so she stood and hopped down the rows of benches until she reached the wall before the green. "Ginny, Harry, I'm heading to dinner, are you coming too?" The couple looked at one another and shook their heads in time.
"No, I think we'll head out later, we have to check on something," Ginny called back to her, never looking away from Harry. Hermione smiled to herself, knowing that was likely their way of saying they would be finding a place to snog from the marauders' map. She hoped it was true since then she wouldn't have to explain where she was darting off to so quickly after dinner. With a calmed sigh, the brunette turned to walk back to the castle.
Ron and Lavender were already at dinner, except she was eating him more than she was eating her food. Practically in his lap, she kissed his cheek as he shovelled in another forkful of mashed potatoes and stuffing. Hermione, laughing inwardly, sat down across from them, startling Ron. "Hermione, what are you doing here?" He asked, his mouth full of half-chewed dinner and his cheeks reaching a soft shade of pink, easily seen against his pale complexion.
"I'm having dinner, Ronald," the young witch smirked, catching an evil glance from Lavender, displeased by the know-it-all's intrusion. Ron seemed to unknowingly push the girl off his side and stopped devouring his meal. Hermione helped herself to a plate of food and motioned for them to continue. "Don't let me stop you, enjoy your dinner, you two." Ron seemed almost offended at the suggestion, looking his friend up and down to see if something was wrong, like perhaps she was hiding something. Hermione shook the paranoia from her mind so she could return to contently eating her dinner. He shrugged and went back to eating his own supper with Lavender, who had once again climbed into his lap.
Hermione glanced over at the professors' table to see if her tutor was in his usual spot, brooding away while eating the dinner provided to him. When she didn't see him, she sighed, quickly catching herself and flicking her eyes to Ron who didn't seem to notice her frustrated exhale. She adjusted in her seat as she finished her last bite, quickly peeling away from the bench and giving a quick wave to her friend. "Enjoy dessert!" The young witch called cheekily as she almost pranced off towards the entrance.
She found her way to Snape's office with ease and knocked on the door without hesitation, as she knew her presence was requested. Her stomach sank as she recalled the embarrassing tumbles she'd managed over the past few days with him as a witness and wondered if he remembered. Her confidence slipped away and her posture fell as she waited outside the entryway. A muffled groan of allowance came from the other side of the heavy wooden door and she pushed it open. Snape was sitting at his desk, scribbling away on a piece of parchment with his quill. His hair was shining in the moonlight streaming through the window behind his head. "Sit." He demanded, without even looking up. She obeyed, taking a seat quickly in the wooden chair opposite him.
"We will be brewing an antidote to common poisons, we used the last of it on your friend Weasley." He spat, scribbling the last of his notes on the parchment before folding it away and looking up at her. "You will need to gather the ingredients; do you remember what they are?" She nodded, and he raised an eyebrow at her. "Of course you do." The young witch took it as a compliment, refusing to think of his assumption as condescension.
"Bezoar, Mistletoe Berries, and Unicorn Horns." She whispered, proving to him that she knew what she would be looking for. He confirmed her suspicions with a nod and sent her off to sift through his shelves in the adjoining lab. While she moved jars around to search behind them, she cast Lumos to get a better look. On her tiptoes, she attempted to look at the top shelf but to no avail. Gazing around the room, she found a step latter. Hermione whispered Accio step latter and the object flew across the room to her, drawing her professor's attention. He merely shook his head and went back to preparing the cauldron for the potion.
Positioning herself on the top step, she peered over the top of the jars and found the container of unicorn horns. "Aha!" She exclaimed as she picked it up and carried it delicately above the other containers to avoid knocking any over. Instead, she lost her balance and began to stumble backward. With her wand in one hand and the unicorn horns in the other, she couldn't steady herself on the wooden shelves, leaving her to free fall into the centre of the lab.
She landed in her professor's arms, who had gotten up and rushed to the young witch's aid. He held her legs over one arm and her torso supported with another. Holding her for a moment longer than necessary, he gazed into her eyes which were wide with terror. She saw as he then quickly looked down to see her shirt had ridden up slightly, showing a slice of her delicate, pale midriff that she quickly moved to cover by pulling down the hem of her top. Her fingertips brushed the scalloped lace fabric of her panties and bit her lip as she began to register how long she'd remained in his grasp. She stifled a gasp when he put her right to her feet and turned back to continue preparing the potion. Blushing, Hermione put the container of horns down and re-sheathed her wand, so she could adjust her jumper to cover her stomach.
"Be more careful, Granger, you don't need to break your back over this." Severus groaned, concentrating on the cauldron in front of him. She chastised herself for being so foolish as she felt the heat on her cheeks linger. Stretching her neck, she moved to the other side of the room where she quickly found the rest of the ingredients.
Her professor accepted them hastily and began shaving the unicorn horn. "Sir, aren't we supposed to cut up the horn? It says here that we're supposed to thinly slice it…" She asked, looking at the book of healing potions her professor had loaned her for research.
"Grating it makes for thinner pieces which allows the potion to brew quicker, one of the many tricks I'm sure you will learn from me during your time here." He purred, looking at her with his deep gaze, she felt him search her soul. "You'll do best to write that down later." She moved to grab his quill, but he interrupted her. "Later, Miss Granger," he emphasized. "Right now, I need you to begin mashing up the berries." She nodded in agreement, taking the jar of berries to the mortar and pestle.
Once the batch had been finished, Hermione felt her tutor's gaze, eyeing her while she stirred the potion intently. She felt her hair slowly grow with electricity over the course of their brewing and became more conscious of it as his stare lingered. She glanced up when he broke the growing silence with what sounded like a brief chuckle. His face twisted into a frown once more at her glance and so she continued to stir the 15 clockwise motions left until it was completed.
When the time had come to divide the potion into vials for Madame Pomfrey, Snape demanded Hermione take up a place on a seat nearby and he refused to let her help him in the endeavour. She watched carefully as he delicately poured the purple liquid into glass vials. The potions master kept his head down as he focused on the tedious task, and she began to focus on the black locks that had fallen around his face.
The closer she looked at his hair, the less greasy it looked and more it seemed to shine, Hermione mused. It was simply very fine hair, she determined. To her it seemed smooth, like running her hand through it would be pleasant. Unlike how she'd thought when she first started in his class, she found herself imagining her fingers entwined in it. Determined to find out if her suspicions were true, she promised herself she'd find a way to run her fingers through his locks.
His head flicked up and his eyes met hers, catching her off guard. She felt her heart pound against her ribcage, attempting to escape its confines and find comfort with his but she steadied herself, swallowing hard.
"You can go now, Miss Granger," when she didn't move, he continued. "There's nothing more to do, you brewed it perfectly." A smile crept at her lips, thrilled to be receiving praise from the professor she once feared, but again, she did not move. Baffled as to why her body refused to leave, she kept staring straight ahead as he worked. He'd quickly gone back to his task, turning his attention back down at what he was pouring.
A crack filled the silence and Dobby appeared with a silver tray with a teapot and single cup. When Dobby spotted Hermione, he jumped, jostling the objects he held slightly. "Pardon Dobby, Master Snape, Dobby brought you tea. Dobby did not know you would have company, Master Snape." The tray cluttered to the floor and two subsequent snaps followed as the house elf disappeared and returned carrying another porcelain cup. "For Hermione Granger, sir, she will have tea too, sir." He placed the cup down on the tray and promptly removed himself once more.
"I can leave, professor, if you want to have tea alone?" Hermione voiced before she could convince herself to do otherwise. Tea was exactly what would calm her nerves at this point, but she knew he would likely want her to leave. He blinked up at her suggestion, overfilling one of the vials and cursing loudly. She suddenly felt far more unwelcome than she'd ever had previously. He took out his wand and cleaned up the mess as she turned to leave, whispering an apology as she made her way to the door.
"Granger-" She had nearly reached the door when his demanding voice broke through the tension. Hermione stayed still with her hand on the door handle as she waited for him to continue. There was a short pause as he discarded the dirty cauldron with a loud clatter before he continued, "you are welcome to stay for tea." She'd turned to face him as he finished his sentence. Hermione watched as he moved out and around his desk before ushering her back into his office.
The young witch sat in the wooden chair opposite his desk like she had previously, but Snape pushed past her gently to levitate the tray Dobby had left and set it down on the desk between them. A few minutes passed where the witch looked around his office, the shelves of books, and the mess of parchment on his desk in wonder. He poured the tea with a flick of his wand for both he and Hermione. She watched as he commanded two sugars and a pinch of milk to add themselves to his tea. He motioned to the witch to do the same with whatever she wanted. She added a little more milk than him and only one sugar.
Taking a small sip at the perfectly warm tea, the silence hung heavy in the room. Maybe staying was a bad idea, Hermione mused, unsure of what to say to her professor. She was of age and nearing her final year at Hogwarts, but she knew he still thought of her as a student by the way he treated her. She had hoped his offer for her to stay back would put her on a more equal footing with the older wizard, but she was quickly finding out that mutual respect would be a task she would have to push for.
"So, Professor," she paused a moment, trying to come up with something to ask him that would launch them into a hearty conversation. "Do you have any book recommendations?" She cursed herself inwardly, that's the best you could do? Taking a sip of her tea, the witch hoped she hadn't ruined his evening tea like she'd already ruined their lesson twice that night.
"There is a novel I've been rereading recently, actually," he started. Her eyes opened with wonder as she sipped on the warm beverage between her hands. "I found it when I was in London a couple weeks back searching for supplies. It's a muggle book, though, I'm not sure that's exactly what you were asking about." Her face broke into a smile, eager to learn more about his recommendation.
"Any book is of interest to me sir, even muggle books." Because I'm muggle-born, she thought. She knew he was aware of her heritage, but she was determined to remind people as little as possible, not wanting to be defined by her parents. She was as much a witch as any other Hogwarts student and would not be treated otherwise. "Tell me more about it, please." She encouraged, and, to her delight, he indulged her.