Chapter 18: Hogsmeade Rendezvous

"Where are you going?"

Already halfway out the hole in the wall that made the entrance of the Potions professor's chambers, Hermione turned around surprised. "Um, I was just going to the lavatory."

Snape gave her a calculated look from his seat in front of the fireplace. "You could just use mine, you know. It's the door to the right."

"Oh, o-okay …" Hermione trailed off, feeling terribly abashed by how much she was stuttering. "Thank you."

And with that, she staggered through the room to said door before disappearing into the bathroom behind it.

Once inside, however, the witch immediately had to gasp in amazement. The bathroom itself was not special; if anything, it was rather dilapidated. In the middle of the room, a big, round bathtub was embedded into the floor. It had most likely not been used in a really long time as it was covered in a thick layer of dust. The left corner of the room was home to a huge walk-in shower, one of its faucets leaking heavily at its base, and opposite of that, there was one of those outdated, eggshell white toilets with a flush chain, its lid slightly crooked. The only piece of furniture was an elongated wooden cabinet that extended from one end of the wall to the other. On top of it, there was a washbasin, with its enamel already starting to chip in some places.

But the one thing that made the room extraordinary was that one of its walls was not made of stone – instead, it was just one big window looking out into the depths of the Great Lake.

Her mouth wide open, Hermione took a few steps towards the glass just as a school of small fish swam by. The murky water gave the entire bathroom an eerie, greenish tint – how amusingly fitting for the quarters of the Head of Slytherin. Taking a closer look, she could see the amazing panorama that was normally hidden away within the depths of the lake: the ground mostly consisted of natural boulders covered in seaweed, with countless aquatic creatures either swimming around freely or using them for hiding. A small Grindylow could be seen; it had apparently repurposed a lost suitcase as a nice, little home. Above it, a group of Selkies was patrolling. And maybe it was just imagination, but Hermione thought that she could even make out the shadow of the friendly Giant Squid dancing around in the background somewhere.

The Muggle-born waved her hand around, trying to catch the attention of the creatures; but they paid her no mind. She soon realised that the glass must be enchanted in some way, acting as a sort of magical one-way mirror. Regardless, she was mesmerised. She had always loved the water and how it gave her the freedom to move around weightlessly. So unsurprisingly, she had fallen in love with the Great Lake during that first boat ride she had taken as an incoming first-year. But while she had spent many beautiful hours by its shore, she had never once seen it from this perspective before. After all, she had been unconscious during the second task of the Triwizard Tournament.

She was so captivated by the beauty in front of her that a sudden loud knock at the door made her jump.

"Hermione? Is everything all right?"

Shit. She must have been staring out of that window for too long!

"Yes, I'll only be a minute!" she called back and could soon hear footsteps walking away from the door.

Quickly using the toilet, the thing for which she had originally came here, she washed her hands and was just about to leave the bathroom, her slender hand already on the doorknob, when she suddenly heard the unmistakable sound of the Floo Network coming from the other room. Hermione pulled back hesitantly. She did not know who the mysterious visitor was, of course; but at any rate, it would be better if no one saw her in her teacher's quarters and started to ask questions.

I really should have taken Ginny's advice to heart. What if Professor Snape's guest needs to use the loo, too?

She carefully placed her ear on the door, not once thinking about the fact that she might be eavesdropping on a very private conversation.

"Severus, my boy!" The cheerful voice obviously belonged to Professor Dumbledore.

Hermione's heart missed a beat. Had she returned to the sitting room just one second earlier, she and Professor Snape could have been in a really sticky situation!

"Headmaster." Snape's voice was almost too low to understand. Hermione had to smirk when she thought about the long face he was certainly making right now; she knew all too well how much he disliked the older man's antics. "What brings you here today? Unannounced, if I might add …"

There was a thud-like noise, and Hermione assumed that it came from Professor Dumbledore sitting down in the wing chair she had occupied just minutes ago. She prayed to the gods he would not notice that the seat was already warm.

"I came to enquire your expertise, of course! You see, I've recently received an interesting flyer from Weasleys' Wizard Wheezes and immediately felt intrigued by one of their products, the WonderWitch's Everlasting Eyelashes. Now, with how busy I am right at the moment, I can't just get up and leave to take a quick trip to Diagon Alley, and with Christmas right around the corner, shipping would take ages. But then I thought, 'Well, Severus is such an intelligent and capable brewer, I am sure he could help me out!'"

"So let me get this straight … You are asking me, a Potions Master who could brew you everlasting life in a bottle, to throw together a simple eyelash serum?"

"Yes!"

Hermione let out a silent laugh. Sometimes, it really was hard to believe that Professor Dumbledore was the most powerful wizard of his time.

For a few seconds, no one said anything. "I am not even going to get into how ridiculous this is," Snape then said in an impassive voice. "But even if I wanted to fulfil your request, I couldn't. Any magical cosmetic product requires Mooncalf oil which I do not have in stock right now."

"That shouldn't be a problem. I thought as much which is why I already placed an order at the apothecary in Hogsmeade. It should be ready to be picked up right about now!" The next part made Hermione perk up her ears. "Why don't you take Miss Granger with you? Ordering potion ingredients is something she should familiarises herself with during her apprenticeship, and I am sure that it would also be good to get out and away from the seventh-year stress for a bit."

"May I remind you that students, regardless of their age or position, are not allowed to leave school grounds just like that?"

Hermione heard what sounded like footsteps on a rug.

"You have my special permission," replied Dumbledore with a chuckle before once again, the sound of flooing resonated through the wizard's quarters. Still, Hermione waited another minute or two before emerging from her hiding spot.

Professor Snape was still sitting in the exact same spot as earlier and did not even look up as she walked past him. But when she finally arrived at her chair, she noticed a small mug filled with plain black tea hovering above it. Her face immediately broke out into a smile. The first few times he had prepared a cuppa for her, she had just figured that he had not been considerate enough to offer her any milk or sugar. But during one of her visits – the professor had just left to get something from his office – a small house elf had appeared and handed her the beverage with the words, "One black tea straight up, just like Master Snape says Miss Hermione likes it!" It was only then that she had realised that he had been paying attention to her, after all.

"Looks like we are going on an outing today," Snape suddenly said before taking a sip of his own cup without lifting his eyes from the book on his lap. He liked his tea disgustingly sweet with at least half a dozen spoonfuls of sugar and enough milk to make it have an almost white appearance – Hermione had been paying attention to him too, of course.

"What do you mean it's not ready yet?!"

"Ze delivery arrived just a few minutes ago," explained the young apothecary at J. Pippin's Potions in a thick Eastern European accent. "I still need to veigh it and carry out ze usual tests to prove ze content's auzenticity."

"I'm a bloody Potions Master! I can do that myself!" Severus growled threateningly, but the man did not even bat an eye; he had obviously not been a student at Hogwarts and therefore had never learnt to fear the bat of the dungeons. Severus could not help but feel a tiny bit uneasy. He knew that he had softened up a lot over the past few months, and now, he was afraid that at some point, he was going to lose his innate authority completely.

"As one, you should be avare of ze laws and regulations dictating zat I am not allowed to give you any goods vizout checking them zoroughly beforehand."

Severus snorted in disgust. "Well, how long will it be then?"

"If I ztart right now," the apothecary answered. "Probably about an hour."

"AN HOUR!" The only thing that outburst got him was a nasty look. "What am I supposed to do for an hour?!"

"It's okay, Professor."

So far, his apprentice had kept in the background. But now, she took a step forward and positioned herself between the two wizards, blocking their direct view of each other and therefore immediately reducing the tension in the room. She looked him directly into his eyes, a slight smile on her face as she gingerly placed her hand on his forearm. Severus instantly felt like he had a gigantic lump in his throat.

"When you think about it, an hour is not even that long. We could have a look around the other shops or maybe even get a drink somewhere."

"With all due respect, I can't just go to the Three Broomsticks and have myself a butterbeer. Merlin forbid someone should see me in there!"

"Oh, don't worry," she said with a smirk. "If you want to be absolutely certain that you won't meet anyone you know, then I have just the place!"

At first, he was rather confused and also a bit intrigued by her smug expression; however, that feeling quickly died down when about ten minutes later, he found himself jammed between the wall and a small gaudy table in Madam Puddifoot's Tea Shop.

Severus felt extremely uncomfortable, almost like a fish out of water. He had known about the place, of course. It had always been the dating hotspot for Hogwarts students, even back in his days. But unsurprisingly, since he had never been one of the popular kids and thus had never scored a date, he had not once set foot inside the infamous tearoom.

Looking around, he felt overwhelmed by the seemingly endless amount of tacky and frilly décor covering every single inch of the small room. All corners were filled with ridiculously small, round tables pilled with cheap china and fake flowers, the walls were plastered in a terribly ugly floral wallpaper, and there were a few random bright pink garlands hanging from the ceiling here and there. The man did not understand how anyone would ever voluntarily frequent this establishment and thanked the universe that he and Hermione were the only customers at that moment; he did not even want to imagine the weird stares the two of them would otherwise have got.

Speaking of Hermione, he turned his attention to the young woman sitting across from him. She looked so pretty with her cheeks flushed red from the cold and her brown hair all fuzzy from the fluffy woolly hat she had been wearing earlier as she studied the menu in absolute concentration. Severus could not help but be a bit flustered – this was feeling suspiciously like a date, and that made his stomach do somersaults.

"I think I'll just have a cup of coffee," Hermione finally spoke up. "But I've heard that their tea selection is also quite good if you'd rather have that."

When he shook his head, she put down the menu to signal that they were ready to order which in turn set Madam Puddifoot in motion. She was certainly an interesting character – her greasy black hair tied into a strict knot at the top of her head, the corpulent witch had quite a bit of trouble navigating through the cluttered salon without knocking over a bunch of chairs. When she finally reached their table in the far back, she proclaimed in her screeching voice, "What can I get for you, my darlings?"

Severus raised one of his black eyebrows – no one had ever called him that.

"Could I get a caramel macchiato with an extra shot of caramel syrup, please?"

"Oh, good choice! You must have quite the sweet tooth!" The older woman let out a deafeningly high laugh before turning around to face Severus. "And what about you? The same or –"

"Black."

The short and crisp reply seemed to throw her off for a second. "A-alrighty then … I'll have your beverages with you shortly."

And with that, she staggered away, knocking over a nearby gilded statue of an angel in the process.

For a few minutes, there was an awkward silence. Stealthily studying her through his lashes, Severus noticed that as Hermione was letting her look travel around the room, she was fiddling with the bracelet she was wearing around her left wrist. He had seen it before; it was the very one she had received from Dumbledore for her birthday. This made him think of his own gift, the one he had so stupidly gone overboard with. He realised that he had never got the chance to explain himself regarding that foolishness. But just as he was about to open his mouth, he was interrupted by two cups of steaming hot coffee suddenly appearing on their table out of thin air.

Surprised at first, Hermione let out a small squeak. Severus then watched as she carefully pulled her cup closer before taking a rounded sugar bowl from the table next to them and adding about three teaspoons worth of white sweetness to her beverage without tasting it even once. Afterwards, she took her small spoon and used it to gingerly skim off the heavy layer of whipped cream topping off her drink, devouring it little by little.

Severus was observing her so intently – almost as though he was mesmerised by her trivial movements – that he had to force his eyes away from her form in order to finally take a sip from his own mug. He took a few seconds to savour the bitter taste in his mouth.

"Miss –" He quickly scanned the room and only continued when he saw no sign of the café's owner. "Hermione, do tell how you thought of this place? I never took you as the sappy type."

"Oh! Well …" She seemed a little nervous all of a sudden, a bit of whipped cream still stuck to the corners of her mouth. "I've actually been here before."

Severus tilted his head just ever so slightly – he did not like where this was going. "Have you then?"

"Yes …" Why was she suddenly avoiding eye contact? "With Viktor Krum."

BANG – it was like a bullet straight to his heart. He had completely forgotten about the fact that she had been that Krum bloke's date to the Yule Ball three years ago. Of course – any woman, even a bookworm like Hermione, would be incapable of resisting the famous foreigner's mysterious charms. Severus began to feel nauseous. How could he ever compare to someone like that?

"How romantic," was all he managed to squeeze out, his gaze fixated on the floor.

"Not really. I mean, don't get me wrong. Viktor is a really great guy, not at all what you would expect from a student of Durmstrang, and I enjoyed his company greatly." BANG, BANG – another two hits right to the chest. "But while we certainly took a liking to each other, the real spark was just never there. And either way, it would have never worked out in the long run. That whole Quidditch thing is so not my cup of tea and a long-distance relationship at that age? No, at the end of the day, it was for the better that we separated on friendly terms."

What?! Could it really be true that the Bulgarian was not in her life anymore?

"Plus, Ron kind of ruined it with his jealously anyway."

The Weasley boy! Severus would have never in a million years thought that he would one day be thankful for that brat's existence.

"I guess that Viktor was just not the guy I'm looking for."

Not thinking rationally, Severus decided to be bold. "So what are you looking for then?"

Her cheeks somehow became even more flushed than before.

"I don't really know," she said quietly. "I guess I want someone who cares more about academics than sports. Someone who would not get annoyed with me for spending hours reading, because he would be just as immersed in the pages as me."

There was a short pause.

"But I think that most importantly, I want … I need someone who understands what I went through during the war. Someone who has felt the same pain that I have felt. Because how could I ever explain that to an outsider?