A/N: Why didn't anyone tell me this chapter was duplicated? Oh well—it needed redone badly so it all works out in the end. Enjoy! 7/31/16
CHAPTER SEVENTEEN — January 9
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Exhalations condensed in the frigid dungeon corridors of Hogwarts. Students had to huddle close to their cauldrons during Potions class. But Professor Snape's office was warm enough Hermione didn't need gloves to do homework.
She sat across from Severus, he marking Potions essays, she revising her Transfiguration notes for the fifth time this week. Homework from the professors was thinning, since she aced every test they gave. At this rate, Professor Dumbledore would owl the ministry and request Hermione take her N.E.W.T.s early, which would be just fine for Hermione. Then she could focus on her Animagus training for the rest of the term.
But then you wouldn't need to sit in Severus's class anymore, her brain whispered. Hermione pulled her ponytail down then put it back up in a knot. Potions class was…different now. The air wasn't bogged down with fear.
She tried to read, but all she could think about was snippets of the past week. Ever since the teachers had regressed into younger versions, everyone was distracted. The students kept making the moves on their teachers and the teachers were each freaking out in their own way.
Half of them were meeting regularly to research a reversal spell, the other half were living it up (as much as they could in a castle, anyway). Minerva handled it much like her regular, older, self and doled out detentions as needed. Professor Sinistra tried the same and got better at it but it wouldn't stymie the flow of 'love struck dunderheads' for more than a day.
Severus offered to put each miscreant straight but Aurora turned him down. "This is my responsibility," he said each time.
Neville confirmed Professor Sprout had a handle on the situation, enough to stop the weekly panic attacks. Hermione and Luna had a theory that all their memories were at odds with what they were experiencing now.
Dumbledore continued much like usual, mysterious and smiling over the student body. However now he was in the library every day, collecting every location spell he could find and trying them one at a time. Hermione offered up her own list that she had tried without luck so he wouldn't have to waste his time.
He gave her a pitying look that she didn't like, but he said he would hand over his compilation to her when he departed in search of Nagini or she returned to Australia, whichever came first.
Though he was younger, he was not the new crush of half the Hogwart's schoolgirls. That fell squarely to Severus. It was bloody weird, hearing everyone talk about the boy she had cuddled and consoled less than a month ago.
He had been so cute and small, so open and adorable. Now he was tall and solid and not sneering at every living thing he came across.
Her face turned red behind the book and her whole body burned when she remembered waking up, his arm draped across her waist, his nose pressing into her collarbone, his warm body—
Professor Sinistra walked into the office cutting off Hermione's train of thought.
Severus rose from his desk and followed Aurora over to the table in the corner where all the research into this anti-aging powder sat. Hermione continued revising. She liked Astronomy and she liked Professor Sinistra, she did.
But so many people had this idea that Severus and Aurora holing up in the dungeons. Well they were, like right now, but for research, not for anything else not anything they're implying.
Lavender thought their rumoured, impending nuptials were a "swell idea—they're both young and Slytherin—why not?"
Hermione just about kicked her under the table at dinner last night but held back.
Now she sighed, put down the book, and picked up the parchment with her notes scrawled even into the margins. She knew she oughtn't think of Severus in any way but as her professor. It was difficult to keep her mind on track when she was in a room full of blushing schoolgirls. Or anywhere near Severus.
I'm no better than those other girls acting all silly, she thought. Or Heaven forbid she be pining like the other girls.
And pine they did, every night and every day. Some of them remembered he was a Death Eater in-line with the Carrows—but as soon as they voiced that thought aloud another girl would come along and squash it, reminding them "Professor Snape was a spy, a brave man with love in his heart!" or some such drivel.
Hermione was guilty of associating Severus's good qualities with his love for Lily Potter, as if that was the only good thing about him. She knew different, after getting to know him. After brushing his hair and tucking him in…
Hermione didn't realize she was gazing off into space (or rather, at a very dull dungeon wall) or that Aurora had left and Severus was now watching her.
"What are you doing?" in fact he was now standing next to her, fingers on the edge of her ink-filled parchment, the other hand on his hip.
She jolted in her rickety chair. "Revising."
One eyebrow went up. "Getting very far?"
"I was until you interrupted," she huffed, yanking the parchment from beneath his fingertips.
"I didn't realize my wall needed such intense study." He returned to his chair.
"Well that's why I'm going to be an Animagus and you aren't."
"Why would I want to rut around as some animal?" he taunted.
"Don't act like you're not impressed." She propped up the book on the table to put a wall between them.
"I'll be impressed when you have something to show for it."
Hermione glared at him over the pages. "I'll be waiting for that Outstanding when I'm done."
Severus straightened the pile of essays he had graded for the night. He didn't talk much. Even as a child it took a while for him to get going.
"How were the essays?"
"Boring, poorly written, uninspired." He leaned back in his chair. It appeared bigger around young Severus. "Except for one essay that was horrendously long, as if I could just devote the whole night to her report."
Hermione peered around the room. "I don't see you doing anything else."
"I'm changing that essay to a Troll grade," he said, rifling through the completed stack.
"That is not appropriate!" Hermione said, grabbing the essays.
Severus stopped lest they all get ripped apart.
Hermione let go and put her hands in her lap.
"You don't think your average could handle one Troll grade?"
"It shouldn't have to suffer the indignity. Besides, no one would believe it anyway."
"You know what else they wouldn't believe? That you set me on fire once."
"No they probably wouldn't." She cleared her throat.
"Or that you stole Boomslang skin from me."
"Are you remembering that all right now or have you known awhile?" she asked.
"I remembered a few days ago."
"I didn't cause any lasting damage, right?" Now she looked nervous.
He shook his head. He folded his hands in his lap. "I assume you needed the Boomslang skin for a potion?"
"Polyjuice." She straightened her skirt.
"Brewed that in a closet, did you? For fun?"
"To sneak into the Slytherin common room and convince Draco Malfoy to admit he was the heir of Slytherin and setting the monster loose on the school. And in a lavatory, actually."
Severus rubbed one of his temples. "That was incredibly dangerous."
"I thought I could handle it."
"You turned into a cat." He rubbed the other one simultaneously.
"That's because Millicent Bulstrode was covered in cat hair—are you alright?"
He waved off her concern. "I'm remembering more recent things lately."
She crossed her arms on top of his desk, perched on the edge of her seat. "What was it like?" she asked. "Being a child again?"
"That's an…odd answer," he said, lowering his hands.
Hermione was listening to him, her brown eyes scrutinizing.
"There's my first childhood. And then there's a new one that seems like it should have happened at the same time, but couldn't possibly have. And it obviously wasn't pleasant when my brain tried to remind me of the issue."
He tilted his head. "Why were you the one stuck with me?"
One shoulder shrugged.
"I wasn't ever nice to you."
She didn't mince words. "Nobody else wanted to do it."
He appreciated that she was forthright with him. "I can imagine."
"I guess…I didn't think it would be fair, if all the other teachers got to have fun and you didn't. Or felt like you were being treated differently."
"I can't imagine it would make much of a difference in the long run."
"It obviously has."
Severus settled in his chair.
"So you remember the…early incidents," she said. "Do you remember anything after that?"
"Such as?"
"Well…you hate me."
Severus cocked his head. She was—had been annoying in her younger days, he could remember that. She talked a lot (a habit that lingered in her essays) and was nosey (still). But the people he hated were nothing like Hermione.
"I'm afraid you'll," she hesitated, "return to normal and remember that you've never liked me."
Normal, he thought bitterly, staring at the stack of essays on his desk. This is not your normal state. This is not you. It never has been. A sudden weariness inched into his bones.
"You called me insufferable," she mumbled.
He looked up. The face on his skin and arms felt older. "Was that before or after you ran headfirst into danger, causing me to clean up the mess?" Stop speaking to Hermione that way! he snapped inside. His voice was much more harsh than it could have been five minutes ago, five days ago.
She let out a sigh mixed with a depreciative snort. "Both."
He could breathe again, when she smiled at him, even if it was a sad little grin.
"We weren't really easy on you, were we?"
Severus felt as if he had just run a marathon—his head was unbalanced and his lungs strained to fill up. Yes—he had called her insufferable in the middle of class, in front of all her peers. I'll admit, that was hateful, he thought. He shook his head in answer to her question.
"We never did thank you, for any of that. Or even for the Lupin situation," she stressed delicately.
Severus cleared his throat. He never did like thinking about Lupin. Just being near the man made him nervous. Something tickled at the base of his spine—was Lupin…had Lupin died? He couldn't recall.
"Weren't you scared?" Hermione asked, barging into his brain space once more. "When he transformed," she clarified.
"That was not the first time I had met Remus Lupin as a werewolf."
Her eyes widened.
"Sirius Black had a wonderful sense of humor."
She looked horrified. "What do you mean?" she demanded as if she had sickening thoughts.
"I met him for the first time—which I had hoped would be the only time—just a bit further on, in the tunnel under the Willow. In my sixth-year."
Hermione covered her mouth. "You could have died!" she sputtered.
"What if I had?" Would that have been such a bad thing?
"We would have been eaten by a werewolf! And Voldemort would be in charge right now!" Hermione said, fiery Gryffindor righteousness glowing. Severus was taken aback. "Who would have taught everyone Potions? Slughorn? I think not! If you had died, because of some horrible prank, Harry, Ron, and I would be dead!"
Severus had that annoying urge to kiss his student again. When had anyone ever said he was important? Never. Lucius had once told Severus he had always been helpful in "maintaining the Malfoy grade point average." Did that count? The Dark Lord had said Severus was one of his most important followers—but the Dark Lord said that to everybody.
Hermione still had her scarred fists balled on the desktop.
Hermionewas too nice to him for no good reason.
All he had to do was walk around the desk, tilt her chin upwards and lean down, to kiss her like a hormone-driven teenager should.
But he didn't. Because he wasn't a teenager. He was her professor. Professors should not kiss students.
"Where is Lupin?" he asked instead.
She was confused. "He's…" She cut herself off.
So I was right. He held up his hand and looked away. Just another thing I don't remember quite yet.
Severus took note of the time: 9:37. He didn't think war-heroines could get detention, but curfew was approaching. Hermione looked at the clock above the door as well. She rolled up her parchment and picked up her book.
"I'll see you tomorrow," she said as she made her way to the exit. She turned back with the door halfway open. "And many happy returns." She had a very wide smile on her face.
Severus tried, and failed, to not show his surprise. "How did you know that?"
She laughed, "I have my ways. Good night. Oh, and I'll be at the Defence event tomorrow—are you sure you're not coming?"
"Very."
With a parting smile, she left.
Severus charmed the door shut and locked it for the evening.
Hermione was too nice to him for no good reason.
