AN: I still can't reply to anything. How annoying is this?
Hermione was ensconced in her chair in the living room, reading A History of Psychotropic Potions, and Their Regulations. Since their brewing company had taken over production, Snape had decided to get serious about her status as an apprentice and had been force-feeding her tomes on regulatory practices and ethics relating to the Potions industry.
She jotted down a few more notes and looked up when the door banged open and slammed again.
"Granger!"
"I'm right here," she said. "There's no need to shout." Although she'd known he would, as soon as he said he was off to go shopping.
"Why the hell am I broke again? You do realize we are out of toilet roll and biscuits, don't you? I looked at my Gringotts statement days ago and we were fucking rich! Now I have nothing to wipe my arse with!"
She reached into her backpack on the floor by her feet and pulled out an enormous roll of scratchy, industrial-grade paper.
"This will work until we get by."
He caught it and stared at it as if it offended him. "Where the hell did you get this?"
"I swiped it from the public loos at the Tube station. Their fault for leaving it on the counter."
"And we are stealing toilet roll because…?"
"Because I knew we were running out, and I knew we were about to be on a tightened budget."
His eyes narrowed at her. "You made me buy something else, didn't you?"
"You didn't look at the papers you signed three days ago, did you?"
He growled at her. "I was distracted. If you hadn't been rushing me, I would have been able to read them properly."
"You had three days to read them properly, Snape."
"What do I own now?"
"Haversham Importers."
"And I own them why?"
"Because they supply our business with sixty percent of our imported potions ingredients and they were gouging us. Their manager was Rita Skeeter's cousin. It's their fault they overextended and defaulted on a loan. They'd have had enough money to get by if they hadn't decided to redecorate their offices. They spent twenty thousand Galleons on office furniture alone. Idiots."
"Did you leave the management in place like you did the last time?" he asked.
"Of course not. You fired all of their senior management yesterday. You also promoted three people, and you moved Andrew Festerling over from Arcane Alchemy to take over the finance department."
"Festerling's a good man. I made a wise decision."
"Yes, you did. That's why you gave him a raise as well."
"Lovely. I'm sure he will spend his money happily, while I blister my arse with stolen bog roll."
"If you need help medicating any blisters, just give me a call," she said blithely, returning her focus to her book.
"You wish," he muttered.
"All day, every day," she replied dryly.
"You'd greatly improve your chances if you just happened to have some decent biscuits in your pack as well," he tossed back, as he stomped away.
Hermione looked up from her book with a calculating expression and then snatched up a piece of parchment.
As she was tying her note to her owl's leg, Snape called up the stairs.
"What the hell is this?"
"That's your new desk!" she hollered back. "Haversham ended up with one more expensive desk than they had managers, so I decided the new owner deserved it."
"Where the bloody hell is my old desk? I liked that desk!"
"Look to the left!"
"Oh. Very good."
It was hours later when he came up into the kitchen for tea. Hercules hooted a greeting to him from the table where he strutted back and forth next to a box addressed to him in Molly Weasley's handwriting. He tapped the kettle and then opened the box. It was filled with an assortment of Molly's homemade biscuits, including the type swirled with raspberry and dark chocolate that he'd particularly liked.
He sighed and looked up to see Granger standing there with an exaggerated look of expectancy.
"Clearly, you are a very disturbed young woman," he muttered. "Why don't you go find yourself a young man to scratch this itch of yours?"
She heaved a sigh and dragged a hand through her ridiculous hair. "Just tell me why you keep pretending you don't want to scratch it yourself, and if I think you're being truthful, I will."
He scowled and poured the boiling water into the teapot. "Perhaps I don't want to roll around with a girl half my age."
"I've no doubt that was the case at first, but we passed that stage months ago when you started treating me like an equal."
"Has it occurred to you that I simply might not be interested in a physical relationship?"
"Yes, and I threw out that explanation on Boxing Day when you almost kissed me."
"We are highly incompatible."
"Snape, we're like an old married couple already. We spend practically every moment together, doing everything under the sun but the one thing nearly everyone in the Wizarding world already thinks we're doing."
He slammed down the plate of sandwiches he'd pulled out of the refrigerator. "Perhaps it means something to me that I haven't sunk so low as to make their lies truth! Did it never occur to you that it might be about personal honor? That it might just mean a lot to me to know that I haven't fucked you, in spite of what everyone thinks?"
She blanched and her eyes filled with tears. She took a deep breath. "Alright," she said. "That one works rather well." She pushed her mop of hair back out of her face and blinked several times to clear the tears from her eyes. "I can respect that. I'm sorry if I made things difficult."
He sighed heavily and pushed the plate of food closer to her. "Granger, I—"
"No. Don't back down just because you upset me. Let's just drop it. I thank you for being honest. Just give me a little while to adjust, and I'll be right as rain."
She snatched up a sandwich and a cup of tea and headed back into the sitting room.
He stared after her and then hung his head and sighed.
"Arcane reports some problems with distribution. It seems that several apothecaries are beginning to refuse to carry our potions, After Skeeter's latest smear piece in the Prophet. The public has actually been asking them directly for the product, but they aren't equipped to handle a mail-order business. St. Mungo's has asked us to deal with this issue as well, since they are being overrun with people trying to buy ordinary potions from them."
"Which ones are boycotting us?"
"Basically everyone besides Slug and Jiggers."
"And what are we doing about this?"
"We've bought a forty-nine percent share of Slug and Jiggers and have purchased four additional properties to expand them into a chain. They are very excited."
"Marvelous. Will I be able to eat and wipe my arse?"
"We have five hundred Galleons in the bank until next Thursday, so unless you plan on going on an insane spending spree between now and then, your arse should be blister-free. I need you to sign these papers."
"Just leave them on my desk. If you help me check these samples, I can look at them before dinner. What are we having, by the way?"
"You're having leftover hot pot. I have a date so I'm packing up early."
There was a profound silence after she said this, and she looked over her shoulder to see him staring at the wall utterly still. She bit her lip and went back to her work.
"What do you mean he's a Muggle? You've been dating this boy for over a month and I'm just now finding out he's a Muggle?"
"I wasn't aware you needed to be advised," she said, opening a new box of samples. "And why are you surprised Reginald is a Muggle? You know full well there's not a Wizard in Britain that wants to date me, you're one of them."
"Granger," he snarled.
"Does this look off to you?" she said holding a vial up to the light.
Whatever he had been about to say was cut off as he reached for the vial and held it up to the light. He emptied the vial into a bowl, and added a teaspoon of powdered Staghorn Root. It started to smoke and turned black, filling the room with a noxious odor before Snape vanished it.
"Check the rest of that box. Immediately."
She started pulling out the vials and holding them up to the light. Out of a box of twenty four, six were tainted.
"What is it?" she asked after him, as he headed up the stairs.
"Ipecacuanha root. Someone deliberately tainted those batches. Anyone who ingested it would projectile vomit instantly. We have to get to the brewery. Now."
Hermione's brows shot up and she dashed after him.
They Apparated directly into the main office of Arcane Alchemy with a loud bang. Snape held her against his side as she wobbled, before turning to the Facility Manager and asking, "Have yesterday's batches been shipped yet?"
"No, sir. They are scheduled to go out after lunch," Denebia Sprout, answered with her hand pressed to her bosom.
He turned to Hermione and hissed, "Employee files." She hurrieded over to the file cabinets, and he turned towards Mrs. Sprout and said, "Stop production on everything and have all of the employees gather in the break room. Do not explain anything, and tell no one that we are here. Do not allow anyone to leave the building and do not allow any deliveries to go out."
"Yes, sir. Am I allowed to know what's going on?"
"Someone tried to ruin my business yesterday," he replied.
They sat in Mrs. Sprout's office going over the employee schedules and coming up with a list of names of everyone that had contact with the actual brewing process the day before, then Hermione pulled their employment applications.
"I know she's Professor Sprout's sister-in-law, but are you sure we trust her?" asked Hermione quietly.
"Implicitly," he replied.
Mrs. Sprout came back in. "It's all been shut down and I've warded the building. Anyone that tries to leave will think they have to state their name in order to get through, but the doors still won't open. Will that do?"
"Excellent. Miss Granger here will explain what we need; I am going to inspect the batches."
The twenty employees of Arcane Alchemy, a Subsidiary of Snape Enterprises, Ltd., were sitting in their break room, gossiping excitedly amongst themselves, when the manger, the owner, and the owner's apprentice walked in.
"Phillipa Admunsen?" Miss Granger asked.
Everyone turned their heads to the woman sitting by herself in the corner looking rather pale.
"Yes?"
Snape walked slowly across the room. "You tried to leave, after you were told we needed you to remain in the building, Mrs. Admunsen. Would you care to explain why?"
The woman darted her eyes around nervously. "I just wanted a bit of air. I wasn't going anywhere."
"You file says you started working here two weeks ago. Why did you wait two weeks?"
"Wait two weeks for what?"
"To tamper my toothache remedy," he replied.
There were gasps around the room and a surge of movement away from that side.
"I have no idea what you're talking about!"
"Oh, but you do, Mrs. Admunsen. I can see it in your eyes. You cannot hide a lie from me. I know what you did. What I want to hear from your own lips, is why. Surely you must know that my potion is popular with teething infants. I found six tainted vials in the test batches sent to me this morning. How many more will I find when I inspect the shipment? Just how many children were you planning on making sick? How many of my employees were you planning to put out of work?"
The room was deathly silent as everyone stared at the woman. Hermione felt the tension rise and started to walk in a wide circle around the other employees until she had a clear view of the woman. When she went for her wand, Hermione disarmed her before she could finish her words.
Snape smiled, a wide, death's head grin, as he lifted his own wand and whispered "Legilimens."
Ten minutes later, he turned to Mrs. Sprout and said, "Send for the Aurors."
Hermione came up, wand still trained on the woman, and Snape turned to the rest of his employees.
"I need you all to destroy everything brewed yesterday, and today. Especially today's batches of Cough Serum. Save only enough for evidence for the Aurors. We will be shutting down for the day when they are through. We need to go over new safety protocols."
Admunsen lunged at Snape when his back was turned, and Hermione cried out, "Stupefy!"
There were several shocked yells and then a few more hearty shouts of praise, as the woman slid to the floor.
Hermione's wand started to shake from her fury and Snape reached out and gave her shoulder a squeeze.
"So why did she do it?" Hermione asked in a shaky voice. Nearly all of the employees crowded closer to hear the answer.
"To destroy us, Granger. She was paid by someone to discredit us. The person that hired her wanted a scandal big enough to ruin us for good. And having people up and down Britain projectile vomiting after using our products would have been just the ticket."
"Who would do that?"
Snape turned to her and smiled his terrifying grin again. "Rita Skeeter."
"The Daily Prophet is back in the black. Newspaper sales are back up with Skeeter's trial date set," she said when she came in the room. "Who would have thought they would have hung their own star reporter out to dry? She's looking at six years in Azkaban. How sad for her." Hermione giggled wickedly.
"Seems I missed my chance to buy a newspaper," he said, as he set her plate of eggs and burnt toast on the table.
"You thought about it, but then decided you didn't want to soil your portfolio."
"Indeed."
"By the way, you also endowed a chair to research Memory Damage at St. Mungo's. We meet with them next week to go over criteria for candidates."
"That's excellent. I'm glad that's up and running. You should be proud."
"I am, thank you."
"Is this the royal we? Or do I actually have to go?"
"Royal."
"Good."
"Did you know Obscurus books is looking for a partner or buyer?"
"No. Am I going to buy them?"
"I thought about it, but you just bought that distributor in Turkey, so you would have needed to get a loan for the last bit to take them over outright, and you didn't fancy just being a partner. Besides, I didn't want to spend all of our money again. I need some to go on holiday in June."
He stopped halfway into his seat and stared at her. "Holiday?"
"Reginald wants me to go with him to Greece for a week next month."
He sat down hard and scowled. "When were you planning on telling me?"
"I just did," she said, smearing marmalade onto her toast.
"You can't go. I'll need you that week."
"I can too. It's in my contract. And you don't even know what week it is."
"I thought you were saving all your money to move to Australia?"
"I am. Well, when I'm not helping you to buy the Wizarding world. Besides, I'm not paying; Reginald is. I just want spending money."
"You can't just go traipsing across Europe with some boy you barely know. It's not safe."
"He's twenty-nine—hardly a boy, Snape—and I can, and will. I've never been to Greece."
"Gods, Granger! He's nearly ten years older than you! He's obviously some letch out to just use you."
She threw down her fork. "At least someone wants to use me!" She sucked in a deep breath and held it before blowing it out and saying, "This is not up for discussion."
"Fine. Go off and fuck whoever you want. It's certainly doesn't interest me in the least."
He shoved back from the table and stormed off to his lab, leaving his uneaten meal behind. She dropped her head into her hands and started to cry.
The next three weeks were hell. They worked in silence, unless she was submitting her latest paper on Potions ethics, then there would be hours of snide aspersions on her intelligence in the form of critical responses. She stopped coming early for breakfast and left at five on the dot. Monday mornings he looked like hell, and it was obvious he'd spent the weekend deep in his cups.
Finally, the Friday before her holiday came. He was preternaturally calm all day and she was walking on eggshells. The blow fell at four o'clock, after she had cleared away the last of the paperwork and tidied her desk. She stepped back and turned, only to find him looming over her.
"Don't come back," he said quietly.
She rolled her eyes. "Snape, you can't just—"
Her words cut off as he held up a notarized parchment, complete with ribbon affixed in wax.
"You terminated my contract?" she gasped. "You actually terminated my contract?" She snatched at the paper but he pulled it out of her reach. "How could you do this? You stupid, petty brat! How could you fucking do this to me!"
"I've arranged to have the rest of the year's pay deposited in your account, along with a bonus. You have enough to go to Australia now. Our arrangement is concluded. Your services are no longer needed. Don't come back." He turned his back on her and stalked off towards the potions supply room on the other side of the basement.
She stared after him in furious tears.
Idiot man...