11. Feisty
Feisty – a. spirited.
Disclaimer: Ah dipone, ah'm a leal quine.
Translation: Scots Doric – I declare on oath, I am a law abiding girl.
xx
The longer Professor Binns' spectral leave continued, the more irritable the dark-haired wizard became. It was all very well having History of Magic on the curriculum, but he was getting heartily sick of rehashing relatively recent events and trying to explain the actions of himself and others to a bunch of whinging brats.
The combined Gryffindor and Slytherin class was the worst, with all their ingrained rivalries. Plus, the students all assumed he would be lenient with his own house and dock points willy-nilly from the opposition. No matter whom he penalised, there was always someone who would grizzle about his house loyalties. You'd think after all that had happened they would have learned there was more to life than house points.
At the moment, he would far rather be up to his elbows in his herbs.
xx
Draco sat leaning back with his long legs crossed elegantly at the ankles and propped up on the library table. His body stretched as he put his hands behind his head, spearing slender fingers into his sleek locks. If it hadn't been for the faint scowl on his face, he would have looked quite relaxed and at home. Below his cool façade, emotions swirled as his grey eyes followed the movements of the exasperating witch he had been assigned to look after.
He couldn't decide what was more irksome, the fact he had agreed to babysit Luna Lovegood or the fact she didn't seem to mind his continued presence. More baffling was the way she chatted happily to him, ignored his foul moods and even sought out his company after classes, and in return she asked for nothing. It wasn't what he was used to, and he couldn't figure it out. He was sure she must have some ulterior motive and kept waiting for it to be revealed.
He and Luna were the last ones in the library tonight, and Madam Pince trusted them to turn out the lights and lock up when they left.
The lounging wizard's eyes followed Luna's every action as she drifted up and down the bookcases, trailing her fingertips over the books and humming. Occasionally, she stopped and lifted a book from the shelf, inhaling as she lifted it to her nose, then returning it to its place or adding it to the small pile held in the crook of her elbow. Draco watched the subtle dance of her fingers as they bumped over the spines and frowned at her ridiculous book sniffing.
She was such a tactile person. Lovegood's hands seemed to have a mind of their own, and her constant touching drove Draco to distraction. He had been brought up in a loving but not very demonstrative household. Having his robes tugged, his hand grabbed, his back or knee patted, his hair smoothed back or his trembling stilled by her gentle hands was unfamiliar and confusing for him. He responded by lifting her hands disdainfully from his garments, pulling his hand from her grasp and pushing her away, but the irritating girl appeared unfazed by his repeated rebuffs.
Daft bint, he thought, scowling harder in her direction.
Diffuse moonlight shining through the library's leaded windows highlighted her silvery hair and gave her face a soft glow. Her eyes, which he had previously thought overly large, were animated and expressive. Draco's gaze drifted to her agile mouth and was immediately reminded of its sweet taste when he had kissed her. He hadn't kissed her again, once had been a mistake, and she obviously didn't want the contact. His tongue ran along his lip, now well healed, but still a little sensitive where the feisty girl had bitten him. The memory stirred a swooping sensation in his belly, and his groin reacted.
Luna turned to look at him as if drawn by his discomposure.
"Are you watching me and licking your lips, Draco Malfoy?"
"You wish, Looney," he countered, moving his feet from the table and pulling his robes around him to conceal his state of discomfort.
She smiled but said nothing.
"What are you doing, Lovegood?"
Luna bestowed him with that look which meant 'why are you asking such a silly question; isn't it obvious?' He knew if he kept quiet she would elucidate in her own time in her own way.
"I'm sniffing out a good story for my friend."
"Lovegood, that's a figure of speech, not something you have to do physically."
"If you say so," she replied. Placing her pile of books on the table, she held two books out to him. "Close your eyes and smell them, then tell me which one I should choose."
His grey eyes met hers, questioning.
She moved round behind his chair and leaned forward, whispering in his ear, "Close your eyes."
"We're leaving after this, right?"
"Mmhmm." Her response vibrated close to his temple, and Draco's eyes drifted shut.
"Sniff."
The wizard breathed in deeply.
"Again."
Inhaling, Draco caught the scent of her.
"Well, what do you think?"
"Moonshine and apples," he murmured.
"Don't be daft, Malfoy."
His eyes flicked open, and he caught her hand, bringing the soft skin of the inside of her wrist to his nose. Breathing in again slow and steady, his eyes closed. "No, I'm right. Moonlight..." His tongue flicked out, tasting that sensitive spot. "... and apples," he added, releasing his grip.
Luna stood up abruptly, placing the books on the table and rubbing the sensitised skin of her wrist on her robes. "Well, uh..."
Draco opened his eyes languidly and smirked. "So, which book are you taking for your friend?"
"My, uh..."
"Eloquent, Lovegood," Draco drawled.
"You just licked me."
"So I did."
Luna's mouth opened and shut silently, and her clear, grey eyes searched his for some sort of explanation. Draco's eyebrows arched in reply.
"Did you mean to... to lick me?"
"Yes."
"But you don't..." She paused.
"I don't what?"
"You don't... you don't like me. I don't understand. You can't. I'm Looney Lovegood, the daftie you have to accompany because of some Slytherin obligation. And don't deny it," she said, wagging a finger at him. "I know Uncle Phin's been worried about me, and I wouldn't put it past him to organise some silly, Slytherin scheme. But, you don't like me, so why touch me?"
Draco rose to his feet in one graceful move and seized her by the shoulders, glaring down at her from his height advantage. "You're always touching me, Looney. So what's the difference? I can't go five minutes without you poking me in the ribs or laying a hand on my shoulder or grabbing my hand. What's your problem? Am I not good enough for you? Do you have an issue with Death Eaters in general, or is it just me? Am I too Slytherin to touch a pure, little Ravenclaw? Is that it?" His voice rose in pitch and intensity as he shook her with each demand.
"No... but, you don't..." Luna's hand drifted up to his cheek, gentle and soft.
Leaning into her touch, the young man squeezed his eyes shut, turning into her palm and breathing her in.
"Draco," she whispered. "Kiss me."
Gently his tongue ran over the delicate dip of her palm, then he placed a soft kiss on the centre. Laying his hand over hers he pressed it to his lips. Draco took a long, deep breath, then exhaled slowly, drawing her hand away and kissing the tips of her fingers. Her other thumb caressed his cheek and brushed tears from his long eyelashes.
Pulling away, he dropped her hand and cleared his throat. "Let's go, Lovegood." He turned away from her and picked up the two books off the table. "Take them both. My decision making was a little... clouded."
As Draco walked towards the exit without looking at her again, Luna called after him, "Don't worry, Malfoy, I won't tell a soul."
He stopped and answered without turning round, "Neither will I."
xx
"Miss Granger!"
Hermione rolled over in her bed with a groan. She hated it when he did this. Shouting at a sleeping woman in the wee small hours was not the way to impress.
"Miss Granger, get up."
She grumbled at him with a diatribe including a repetitive refrain of 'Fuck off, Phineas.'
"Are you using bad language, young lady?"
"What're you doing waking me up in the middle of the night?"
"You have a lesson at ten, and Professor Snape will not tolerate tardiness."
"And?"
"It is quarter to the hour, Miss Granger."
"Fuck!"
"Tsk!"
Hermione shot out of bed, wrenching the locket from round her neck, cursing as the chain caught in her tangled hair and eventually hauling it off with a snarl. At least sleeping in her clothes meant she didn't have to waste time getting dressed.
Harry was lying curled up in a meagre blanket, and, as Hermione approached with the Horcrux, he shivered. She stood at his bedside observing him for a moment, noting his sallow appearance, the dark smudges under his eyes and drawn features. His damp hair suggested he had been outside recently to check the security charms. Indeed, his wand was still clutched tightly in a pallid hand.
Hermione hated to see him so miserable, and her gut clenched at the thought of leaving him alone, but she knew he wouldn't move from his bed once the locket was in his possession. A small whimper escaped chapped lips as Hermione slipped the Horcrux over his head without disturbing him. She took the blanket from her own bed, still retaining her body heat, and tucked it around Harry, smiling a little as he sighed and snuggled into the warmth.
A hastily written note to let him know when to expect her back and a rapidly packed beaded bag were her last tasks before disappearing out the door. Hating to leave without saying goodbye, she was soon at Harry's bedside again.
"I'll be back soon," she said, even though she was sure he was asleep, placing a soft kiss on his temple as she spoke. He looked so vulnerable she couldn't help adding a whispered, "Love you."
In her hurry to leave, she missed his murmured reply. "Love you too, ʼMione."
xx
The man standing on the opposite side of the small room with arms crossed and sneer fixed firmly in place looked so solidly familiar and reminded her so much of happier times, Hermione could scarcely resist the urge to hug him. Her hands twitched involuntarily, but only moved a fraction. Unfortunately, it was enough to loosen her grip on her wand and bag, which fell to the floor with a clatter and thud.
"Ever the attention-seeking entrance, Miss Granger," he commented, regarding her with ill-concealed contempt.
"Professor Snape, you're really here."
"Observant as ever, I see. Did you expect otherwise?"
"It's just... yes... no... I wasn't sure... I'm... but it's... you..." Her voice trailed off as his dark eyes bored into her.
"If you have finished your stream of semi-consciousness, I suggest we begin." Turning to the makeshift workbench as he spoke, he started setting out equipment. "Time is limited, and I must return to the school for lunch."
"School lunch?"
"Yes, Miss Granger, the meal we eat at midday."
"I know what you mean," she snapped. "I just can't imagine the routine of school lunches anymore, but I suppose life goes on as normal."
"Surprisingly, Hogwarts did not grind to a halt when Gryffindor's Golden Trio failed to appear at the start of term."
"That's not what I meant." She glowered at the black expanse of his back and was sorely tempted to poke out her tongue.
"Come along, Miss Granger. We have work to do."
Snatching her dropped belongings up from the floor, she dumped them on the end of the bench, her mood still affected by post-Horcrux irritability. "Fine! Teach me."
Dark eyebrows rose slightly, but he continued to sort equipment and arrange ingredient jars. "Perhaps you should leave your churlish attitude at home, young lady." Sniffing, he added, "And a shower before you attend my lessons would be appreciated. You smell like a vagrant hag."
"A shower?"
"I would have thought a bright witch such as you would understand the concept of soap, water and basic cleanliness." His eyes rolled at her petulance as her grimy hands slapped down on the bench-top.
"I apologise, Professor," she said through gritted teeth. "Not all of us have access to Hogwarts' magical baths at present. You will forgive me if my cold water wipe-downs are not up to your exacting standards."
"Cold?"
"Yes, sir. I would have thought a man of your intelligence would understand the concept of temperature."
"Are you telling me you have no hot water where you are living, Miss Granger?"
Her responding laugh was mirthless. "No hot water, no heating, no proper food." Her eyes glistened with unshed tears. "Nothing."
His hands hesitated in their movements. "Where on earth are you staying?"
Hermione's lips pinched together as she turned away from him, the tears now starting to trickle from the corners of her eyes, tracking a clean line down her cheeks. Taking a deep breath, she wiped them away with a grubby sleeve. "I... I can't tell you."
His tone was more conciliatory when he spoke again. "May I suggest you use the wash basin, through that door, to improve your basic hygiene before we start work this morning? Next time, arrive earlier, and you can take a shower before your lesson."
Hermione realised slamming the bathroom door behind her was childish, but it helped relieve some more of her irritation. The fragrant, hand-made soap and warm water helped soothe away the last shreds of anger as she washed the grime from her hands and the tear-streaks from her face. By the time she returned to the box room she was feeling more congenial.
Holding her hands out for inspection, she asked Snape if they were clean enough for his standards.
"A vast improvement, Miss Granger."
Hermione was surprised to see a small quirk of amusement at the corner of his mouth and dumfounded when he caught her hands in his and lifted them to his nose.
"Do I detect lemon and honey?" He inhaled again before letting her hands go. "And a hint of ginger."
"You should know, sir. It's the same fragrance as the shampoo Remus lent me, so I presume you made it."
"Did I?"
"It had your writing on the label."
"I can't deny it then, can I?"
If Hermione expected further elucidation it was not forthcoming and the dark wizard indicated for her to start her task. "Today we'll prepare the dry ingredients, then tomorrow evening we'll start brewing," he said, adding as an apparent afterthought, "If that suits your schedule."
The witch wanted to pretend to get out an appointment diary to check, but resisted and simply nodded agreement.
They worked steadily together, with Snape occasionally demonstrating a specific preparation technique or indicating her mistakes with a tap of his knife tip on the back of her hand. A set of handwritten instructions on a stained, dog-eared piece of parchment lay between them on the bench; the script was recognisable as Snape's own, but some of the annotations were in another's hand. Hermione followed the ingredients list with a finger while her teacher appeared to work from memory. She was pleasantly surprised by the lack of snide comments or derogatory remarks, and the time passed quickly.
As time went on, Hermione gradually became aware of having missed breakfast. Her belly rumbled quietly, and she felt increasingly lethargic and a little light headed. Checking the list, she saw they had only one more item to prepare and was sure if she concentrated, she would manage to complete the job.
"Destroying expensive ingredients with shoddy workmanship is unacceptable, Miss Granger."
His deep, disapproving tones startled her. A hand laid on top of hers stilling her chopping blade surprised her more, and it wasn't until she put her knife down that she noticed the tremor in her fingers.
"I'm sorry, Professor. I'm just a bit tired and hungry."
Her head hung with fatigue, and her fingers curled slowly into loose fists on the bench in expectation of a sharp tongue-lashing.
"Indeed. It is nearly lunchtime."
"Lunch, huh?"
"Yes, Miss Granger, I think we already deduced it's the meal we eat at midday."
"I can't remember the last time I ate lunch." Her voice was weak and tinged with weariness, and to her humiliation, she found herself on the verge of tears again. She bit her trembling bottom lip in an attempt to stop the embarrassing quiver.
A knuckle under her chin lifted her head, and she faced the dour wizard's scrutiny without flinching. His finger traced across her sunken cheek to her hairline where he rubbed a stray lock of matted hair between his fingers, feeling the texture before bringing the tress to his nose to sniff. As a brief look of distaste flitted across his face, the corner of his mouth lifted in the start of a sneer.
Before he could pass comment, the room's concealed door swung open, and a man's hand clamped down firmly on Snape's shoulder. A fleeting look of surprise crossed the dark-eyed man's face before he dropped the tress of hair as if scalded and took a step back. The wizard now at his side did not relinquish his grip, giving him a friendly shake and smiling first at Hermione then at Severus.
"Good to see you two getting on so well together. No wands drawn yet, I see. How are you, Hermione? Come here and let me give you a hug." Lupin scarcely drew breath as he chatted amiably and stretched out his free hand towards her, but Hermione noticed as she was drawn into a one-armed hug his other hand remained resting on Snape's shoulder blade. "I bet you've been having a great chinwag. How's the box room working out?"
Drawing himself up to his full height and crossing his arms across his chest, Severus looked down his prodigious nose at the werewolf beside him. "May I remind you, Lupin, Miss Granger is my student, and we are not here for friendly chitchat. We're here at your behest to brew your Wolfsbane."
"C'mon, Sev, chill out." Lupin shook Snape's shoulder again and patted his arm. "Hey, it's nearly lunchtime. Have you two eaten yet?"
"No," they replied in unison.
"Well, let's get lunch."
"I haven't brought anything to eat," Hermione admitted.
"And you haven't fed her, have you, you berk?" Remus slapped Snape's arm.
Severus hesitated briefly. "We were busy."
"Too busy to notice she's starving?"
Snape's lips pressed together into a thin line, and he glared at Remus. "I noticed. How could I not when she looks and smells like one of the Inferi?"
Hermione's spirits flagged under his derisive comments, but she lifted her head and squared her shoulders in response. "Don't worry about me, sir. I'll be fine. I can scrape something together at home, and I promise I'll shower before we start tomorrow."
"Rubbish, lass. Sit down, and I'll go and get you some food." Just before he disappeared through the door again, Remus added, "Fancy anything, Severus?"
"No, I must get back to Hogwarts. Some of us have jobs to go to." With a curt nod in Hermione's direction, he brushed past Lupin and strode out.
Remus frowned after him with mild irritation. "I'll be back in a mo'," he called as he stepped out of the room.
The small room went very quiet, and Hermione leant back against the wall, listening for Lupin's return. She was startled when he reappeared suddenly. He struggled in carrying a large tray laden with food and a pot of tea in his hands and a bulky package tucked under one arm.
"Oh! I didn't hear you coming."
"Sorry for making you jump, Hermione. Soundproofed room, remember." Clearing a space on a large packing chest with his free elbow, he set the tray down and presented the parcel to her with a flourish. "Voilà. This is for you. I think Severus was supposed to give it to you, but you know him and social graces..." He shrugged an apology.
"What's in it?"
"No idea, love. Sev said it's an aid parcel. Open it and see."
"I think I'll take it home unopened and share it with Harry, if you think that'll be okay."
"I'm sure it will be. It's not as if Snape's going to be giving you embarrassing gifts of frilly knickers, or something, is it?"
Hermione giggled and turned her attention to her lunch, eating with gusto until she couldn't pack another morsel into her full stomach.
"Jeepers, you were really starving, weren't you?"
Nodding lethargically in agreement, Hermione leaned back, rubbing her belly. Eventually, she got to her feet with a groan. "I've got to go. Harry will need some respite and some food." She indicated the remaining sandwiches and biscuits she had been unable to cram in. "Can I take a doggy-bag?"
"You go for it. Take what's left. I won't be back here for a day or so."
"Won't you be here tomorrow when we're brewing?"
"Ugh! No. The smell of it turns my stomach. It's bad enough having to drink it each month."
"It didn't smell that bad when we made it at school."
"That's because you made the official, Ministry approved version. The Snupin variation stinks, but works heaps better."
"Do you mean to say, Professor Snape has improved on Wolfsbane?"
"Of course. He's a talented man, but he had some help." Lupin grinned impishly.
"You? Really?"
"Who else?" His smile broadened with pride.
Hermione didn't look at him directly, peeking sideways through her mane of hair and trying to judge his reaction as she asked, "You and he work well together, don't you?"
He replied with an enigmatic, lopsided smile. "We have been known to co-operate in times of necessity."
Lupin's tone and expression gave her no clues as to their exact relationship, but Hermione was pretty certain she knew.
"Professor Snape wants me to wash before I start brewing tomorrow. Can I please borrow some more of your heavenly shampoo?"
"Mine?"
"Yes, you know, the one I dropped and broke. Do you have any more of that?"
Remus rubbed his jaw as he thought. "I'm not sure. I'll have a look."
"It was absolutely divine. Perhaps I can persuade the Professor Snape to pass on the recipe. He made it, didn't he?"
"He did, but I'm not sure if he'd remember. It was made a long time ago."
"Doesn't he make it for you anymore?"
Lupin looked a little confused and rubbed along his jaw-line again. "No. It wasn't made for me."
"Oh! So, who...?"
"I... I can't tell you." His gaze was downcast, and when he looked back to her, he appeared troubled and his eyes were pleading. "Don't pry into our lives, please, Hermione."
Flinging her arms around him, she hugged her friend tightly. "I'm sorry. I didn't mean to be so insensitive and rude."
Gently, he returned her embrace before setting her away from him. "C'mon, love. It's time to go. Harry'll be wondering what's happened to you."
"Merlin's underpants! I forgot about Harry."
"Merlin's undies?" Remus chuckled. "I'm glad I don't associate with you very often. You'll contaminate my sensitive lugholes with hideous language like that!"
With a quick peck on the cheek, he handed her the parcel and pushed her into the centre of the room to Disapparate. "I'll see what I can do about your shampoo," he called just as she disappeared.
xx
Snape felt ill at ease as he strode down the street, heading downhill before crossing through Princes Street Gardens and heading up the Mound to the castle, getting a bit of fresh air before his return to Hogwarts. He turned his collar up against the sneaky Edinburgh wind and as he did so caught the spicy, honeyed scent again from his hands. It had smelled very pleasant on Miss Granger, but the unexpected familiarity of the fragrance had disconcerted him.
She had assured him he had prepared the concoction, but he couldn't remember having done so. If he had, who would he have made it for? He tried to rack his brains for a memory, but couldn't focus on anyone who would suit that particular combination. Severus decided he would have to ask Lupin next time he saw him.
As he walked, Severus spooled through his mental check list for the rest of the weekend. Lunch was top of the list, followed by a school inter-house Quidditch match. The day would be rounded off by a visit to Malfoy Manor. An entertaining little soiree, the Dark Lord had intimated on his invitation and Snape's stomach turned over slowly with uncertainty at the thought. At least he was escorting young Malfoy, so would have an excuse for leaving early to get the young man back to Hogwarts.
Tomorrow he planned to collect the final ingredients for the Wolfsbane before dinner, then back to Edinburgh for a brewing session with the feisty Miss Granger. He smirked as he recalled her holding her hands out for a check, just like a diligent pre-schooler. Hopefully, she wouldn't smell so bad tomorrow if she showered beforehand.
Severus had been horrified to see her so unkempt and obviously malnourished when she had arrived. He reminded himself to ensure the girl ate something before starting work. It would be most undesirable for the witch to pass out from hunger whilst brewing.
Suddenly, he realised why he felt ill at ease. He had, unintentionally, taken on another lost cause at a time when he really couldn't afford to. Not only did he have a school full of idiotic children to protect, but he now had his own flock of misfits and waifs. Counting them off – Draco Malfoy, Luna Lovegood, Remus Lupin – Snape added Hermione Granger to the growing list.
xxx
Translation:
Daftie – Scottish vernacular – idiot, fool, imbecile
Lugholes – Scots – ears