The Headmaster had departed quickly at the end of class, following the students out and hastily casting a couple of charms on the locks. Rather than joining them in the Great Hall for lunch, he strode purposefully in the direction of his office.
Lunch was uneventful, with much of the chatter subdued, but mostly reporting from the upper year students on the morning Potions class (focused mainly on the selection of potion for the day). Speculation was rampant. Who pursued who? Did Snape have to give her a love Potion? Did she slip one to Snape? The former seemed more likely than the latter, but speculation abounded.
Hunter was pleased to return to her classroom after lunch. She'd spent most of the morning pacing her office, horrified by the small part of the newspaper article she was able to read before they were all destroyed. What interest would anyone else have about this unfortunate incident, front page interest at that? Weren't there bigger fish to fry in the Magical community? And where did the photo come from? The evening before had been mortifying enough to her as it was, when it was known only to her, Snape, and Poppy. This public knowledge, and among the students no less, greatly compounded her embarrassment. Clearly, it had not gone over well with Professor Snape, either. And all before the start of October. She decided to turn her attention to teaching for now, and deal with Snape later, perhaps after class.
The students filed in with more than the usual low chatter, mouths behind hands and blushing when she made eye contact, as expected. She did not acknowledge the incident nor their gossiping. Instead, she got started with the lecture of the day and the required Potion.
"Today's potion is a simple wit-sharpening potion, which requires only 3 ingredients and 7 steps to prepare. The instructions are on the board, as well as in your books. I advise that you take special care in preparation. If you are successful, I'll allow you to use the potion during winter finals week." A twitter of interest rose from the class. "I've brought an especially potent batch of armadillo bile with me, so please do use care, as it can be caustic. Dragon-hide gloves are required. The resultant potion should be as useful as Baruffio's Brain Elixir, without the need for restricted ingredients nor detoxification afterwards."
"That's why she's the best teacher," said a tall boy in a Ravenclaw robe, in an admiring tone.
Hearing those kind words, and seeing a few nods of agreement would have gone a long way to calm Hunter's mind, except for hearing a reply of "You and Snape seem to share that opinion," followed by a murmur of appreciation.
She glared at where the voice came from but couldn't identify the source. She briefly considered detention for the entire class, but was able to breathe through the impulse. She finished the lecture on the contribution each ingredient made and the reasons for each of the particular preparation steps, then strolled through the room to observe their work.
Before anyone had gotten very far, there was a knock on the classroom door and a small house-elf in the robes of Hufflepuff House, entered, with a look of excruciating embarrassment on his face.
"Professor Hunter," he stammered, looking at the floor. "You are requested in the Headmaster's office at once."
Hunter gave the house-elf a confused smile. "Let him know I'll be there directly after this class," she said gently, knowing that the elf was only doing his job. She was surprised at the request, as the Headmaster should know her teaching schedule well. She turned back to assist the students.
The house-elf cleared his throat uncomfortably and squeaked out. "I'm so sorry, Madam, but you really must come now, without delay." Hunter turned sharply and stared, as the house-elf turned an unhealthy shade of florid red.
What the devil was he on about? Yes, the article in the Daily Prophet was embarrassing, but hardly worth interrupting her class. Clearly, he didn't respect her teaching responsibilities, if he thought she was to just leave her class at his whim. She'd never been summoned in such a way in her life.
She turned to her class, those close by and overhearing having stopped their preparations. She took a deep breath. There weren't any especially dangerous components, other than the armadillo bile, nor did the brewing involve high pressure or complex extractions. The students weren't at risk. Well, not much. But if things did go wrong, the mess might be significant. Perhaps she'd engage him in helping clean up, if he expected her to suddenly leave a laboratory full of 4th years to their work.
"Everyone, I need to leave class. You are to complete your work on your own. I hope that the benefit of this potion to your final exam scores will motivate you to be careful and precise. I expect everyone to remain on their best behavior and to clean up at the end of class. Please leave your samples on my desk, as usual." She waved her wand, placing an identity charm on each of their sample vials, so she'd know if anyone tried to pass off someone else's work as their own. Not foolproof, but helpful, and the best she could do in the time available to her.
"He can't keep away from her, I guess," was muttered as she strode out.
As she climbed the stairs up from the dungeons to Snape's office, she cursed him silently under her breath with each step. How dare he summon her, like a dog? Such utter disrespect, and for a person with her standing! She would need to set him straight about her expectations if she was to get through this year without hexing him. With each step, she seethed. Rather than taking the time to count to ten and bring her mood back down, she became more inflamed with every pace. He was abusing his rank over her. Disrespectful. Unprofessional. How could she possibly have felt some kind of affection for him? Maybe it really was the bluebells, because she certainly wasn't feeling kindly toward him now. To call her out in front of her students! How dare he! Send a house-elf instead of coming himself. Of all the nerve.
The elf (she hadn't bothered to ask his name) uttered a password which she was far too riled up to hear at the door, which slid open. She walked in purposefully and mounted the stairs, walking up rather than waiting for them to take her upwards.
"What is this about, Snape? I was in the middle of class!" she spit out, entering the room and turning on him, leaning over the desk with determination in her stance as well as words.
Snape rose and met her eyes with caution. "Professor Hunter, thank you for joining us on such short notice," he said with the utmost control to his voice.
Us, what did he mean, us? Was this a royal us?
She turned and now noted the others in the room who were sitting opposite the desk. Madam Pomfrey and Mr. Filch, and two others that she did not know. Oh dear. Her anger was being replaced by dread, accompanied by a drop in blood pressure that left her feeling weak-kneed.
Snape gestured to the tall, strapping sandy-haired wizard of about 35 with the presence of a once-formidable athlete, who then stood. "May I introduce Paracelsus Winder, Minister of Magical Education." He smiled broadly and extended a hand to Hunter, who returned the gesture with nervous hesitation. "Call me Parse, everyone does." Hunter was quite sure her calling him Parse would be a long time coming.
"And his deputy, Hypatia Alexander." Also tall and powerfully built, the olive-skinned witch extended a hand in greeting. Her grip was needlessly strong.
Winder spoke first. "So the rumors are true, Snape," he said jovially, eyeing Hunter as though she were some kind of prize. Her anger rose again, edging out the dread. How dare he make jokes about her? They'd only just met! "You've managed to hire the great Morgan Hunter. What a coup!" Her feelings were in a jumble, much like her stomach. She was now wishing she'd opted to skip lunch, as Snape apparently had.
Snape looked grim, as Winder continued, turning back to Snape. "Madame Maxime must be in a jealous rage that you snagged her, old man!" He turned back to Hunter and said in a conspiratorial tone. "Beauxbaton's potions program has been weak for decades. Their professor still uses the same text book from 1828, just because it's in French," he snorted derisively.
Hunter was taken aback by his insulting tone. "I think they may be looking to update their courses. They've asked me to speak later this year." Snape eyed her with raised eyebrows.
Winder only laughed at this. "I bet they have. I hope you'll carve out some time in your busy schedule to visit us at the Ministry of Magic, as well, Dr. Hunter. Someone with your expertise would be an excellent advisor on curriculum." He turned to his deputy. "Hypatia, work with Dr. Hunter after this meeting and get a lecture set up." Alexander looked nonplussed at this barked request, but nodded her agreement without enthusiasm. He turned back to Hunter and continued. "We'll put you up in the Three Cauldrons Inn on Diagon Alley, first class all the way. I'll see if I can arrange some time with Kingsley Shacklebolt, currently acting Minister of Magic. Great guy, Shacklebolt." Hunter didn't like the hand he'd placed on her arm, though he withdrew it quickly enough at her stiffening.
"Enough of this chatter," he said with a dismissive wave of his hand. "Let's address the real reason we are here, so we can let the good professor return to her class. Wouldn't want to deprive the students of your top-notch teaching." Hunter allowed her gaze to drift slightly from Winder to Snape, who looked as stony as ever. He lazily waved his wand, and a sturdy chair with blue cushions appeared for her use. Midnight blue, in precisely the same shade as her robe. Everyone sat down as Winder got started again.
"May we discuss the events of last evening, Dr. Hunter?" he said as though they were just having a nice conversation at a garden party. "How did you come to be in the forest with the Headmaster? Were you coerced in some way?"
Hunter looked at him in disbelief. "What is the purpose of this inquiry, Minister Winder? Surely the Minister of Magical Education doesn't get involved in such trivial matters as accidental exposures to magical plants? If so, you'll need to investigate half my class by the end of the year, sir."
Winder gave her what was probably intended to be an indulgent smile as Hypatia Alexander looked away. "The Department of Magical Education takes the possibility of unlawful intoxication of a staff member with magical plants very seriously." Winder paused here and returned his gaze to Snape, the smile disappearing. "Although this is merely an informal investigation, for someone already on probation, the consequences could be very serious, should the investigation reveal wrongdoing." He turned back to Hunter after a pause. "Under what pretense did Professor Snape lure you to the forest?"
"No one was 'lured,' as you put it, Minister. The research that the Headmaster and I designed used up a great deal of materials. We chose to visit the forest that night to gather more supplies at their greatest potency."
Winder nodded. "I see. Once you were in the forest, how did Professor Snape manage to guide you to the patch of bluebells?"
Now Hunter was getting exasperated by the tone of the questions. "No one guided me there. I happened upon them myself. Professor Snape wasn't even near me at the time," she huffed.
Winder narrowed his eyes at her suspiciously. "But once he noted your position, he took advantage of the situation and forced himself upon you?"
"He most certainly did not! If you must know every tiny little detail, I forced myself upon him, fairly attacking him. Once I had him pinned to the ground, he noticed the bluebells and asked me if I'd ever seen them before. Upon discovering that I had not, he immediately saved me any further embarrassment by carting me straight back to the castle and calling for Madam Pomfrey, who them administered a reversal potion. There was absolutely nothing shady about his behavior at any time. You should be ashamed of yourselves and this wizard-hunt." She glared at the two of them, her arms crossed.
Winder and Alexander sat back with eyebrows raised at her forceful and specific response. Snape merely smirked silently.
Winder turned to Filch and Pomfrey. "And what did you witness, Mr. Filch, Madam Pomfrey?"
Poppy spoke. "I was awoken in the middle of the night by Mr. Filch who insisted that the Headmaster needed me immediately to care for Dr. Hunter, as she'd fallen ill. Upon arriving in the Entrance Hall, I found her suffering the classic symptoms of an adult first bluebell exposure. Once in the infirmary, she initially refused treatment (absolutely typical for an exposure of this type), but Professor Snape finally convinced her. After treatment with Amoreverselixir, she returned to normal and was released. I saw nothing inappropriate, nothing at all," she replied primly.
Mr. Filch nodded in agreement. "I wasn't too keen to go waking up Madam Pomfrey in the middle of the night (she has a real temper when she's tired), but Professor Snape was fixed on me getting Poppy up. So I hurried off to get her. Professor Hunter was clearly affected by them bluebells, but Snape was having none of it."
Winder looked at Alexander, who returned his look equivocally. "Well, then, Professor Snape, it would seem your story holds up with these other witnesses. I don't doubt you've had time to get your stories straight and I note that all of the witnesses report to you as the Headmaster, but I will have to close this investigation." He stood and readied to leave, Alexander following suit. His frustrated demeanor disappeared as he turned back to Hunter, replaced with a rather plasticine smile that never reached his eyes. He grasped her hand in both of his in a way that felt far too familiar, particularly from one who had finished only moments ago interrogating her about personal matters. "Dr. Hunter, I would be most honored to host you personally for your lecture at the Ministry. I can't wait to hear what new perspectives you might bring. Hypatia will be in touch to set it up. Well, good day to you all." With a slight nod, he and his deputy exited.
Madam Pomfrey and Filch looked at Snape, who remained silent until the unmistakable sounds of the house elves escorting their Ministry guests out had subsided. He said a low "Thank you for coming. Dr. Hunter, if you'd like to return to you class, please do so, with my apologies for this unscheduled interruption. Mr. Filch, Madam Pomfrey, thank you for your testimony."
Poppy and Filch stood to go. "We only spoke the truth, Severus. Only the truth." Snape nodded silently as they, too, exited, leaving Hunter and Snape alone for the first time since the evening before. Hunter noted the time and that there was no need to dash off down to her classroom. Had there been an accident, she'd have known by now. She sat, allowing the silence to gather and settle.
Snape spoke first. "Dr. Hunter, my apologies for this embarrassing mess. I had hoped that the Minister would not choose to involve himself in the matter, but it would seem that no matter is too small for his attention."
"Is it normal for your Ministry of Magical Education to get involved in such a minor affair...I mean, event? And the newspaper. Do they typically report every mishap brought on by Magical substances?" She held him in the steady, forthright gaze that he had yet to adjust to. He generally did not appreciate being the object of observation. Most of the staff and students avoided making direct eye contact so as not to fall afoul of his temper. Gaining his attention typically did not gain one favors. Quite the opposite.
He inhaled and exhaled before speaking. "Let's continue this conversation while we store the harvest. It would be a shame to ruin such things that have cost us so dearly."
Once in the dungeon research laboratory, Snape applied a sealing charm to the door, and Hunter applied the Muffliato charm. They opened the case and began pulling from it the jars and packets collected the night before. Even in the dimness of the torches, Hunter could see the quality of the take. Her ran her fingers over the leaves of plants, feeling their stored energy. The insects, now dead, still vibrated with potential. The wood samples nearly hummed with readiness to be ground up, extracted, shaved, or charred. It was one of the most propitious harvests she'd ever enjoyed. All, or at least nearly all, of her previous worries and aggravations faded as she handled the items, placing them in labeled jars and flasks, ready for use in their ongoing research. It would be a good year after all, she allowed herself to think.
As they processed the substances, Snape answered the question she'd asked upstairs. "No, it is not at all typical. The purpose of this visit, as unpleasant as it was, was not to investigate the facts of the newspaper story. Unless someone lodges a complaint about such an event and makes a formal accusation, such things are left alone to the discretion of the individuals involved, even among work colleagues. Even if a complaint is filed, it is generally addressed by lower level agents of the Ministry and a proscribed punishment meted out. No, the purpose of this was to serve a notice to me that I am being observed carefully and that my position is precarious."
Hunter understood such maneuverings well, but opted not to say so, lest she be called upon to explain how well she knew of such machinations. She began with an "I see," but then quickly turned her attention to the materials at hand, launching into another monologue on how these would fit into their upcoming experiments. Snape seemed to appreciate the distraction, as well, and they spent the remainder of the afternoon working. When they emerged together for dinner, neither of them cared, though both of them noticed, the murmurs from students and glances from staff. The matter was behind them, the work lay ahead.
That evening, he hosted detention for Janiss Ames, who'd made a perfect batch of Amoreverelixir on her first attempt. He treated her to as long a lecture as he could muster on the particulars of each ingredient, the relevance of the cauldron size and composition, as well as the details of the technique. He detailed precisely what she'd done wrong in the morning and noted that grinding was different from pressing and implied that her prior schooling was wanting if she didn't already know that. She continued in silence except for the occasional "yes, sir," now following the instructions precisely, yielding the intended potion. He escorted her to the Ravenclaw wing still in silence, then, retired to his rooms. He cursed Parse Winder silently yet again, that overblown fool. He imagined Hunter had spent the evening cleaning up after a laboratory full of 4th years had brewed on their own. It must have been a disaster. Had he not had a prior obligation in having Miss Ames re-make her potion assignment, he would have been delighted to volunteer her for clean-up duty with Hunter. As it was, by the time she was finished, he had walked past her lab to see if she needed further assistance, but found the door securely locked and no sound of activity behind it.
In the silence of his own rooms, his door firmly sealed, the only sound that of sputtering candles, he found himself disappointed that she hadn't been working in the lab, not because he wanted an additional punishment for the American student (at least not entirely), but because he simply had hoped to see her again before the day ended. Putting out the last of the candles, he drifted off to sleep, reminding himself that it was all bluebells, but reliving the moment she "fairly attacked him."
Hunter sat in her comfortable armchair, winding down the difficult day (had it only been one day?) with a glass of wine, a California red from her own stock, and book about vessel shapes. She found the mathematical charts explaining the shape relative to the concentrations of evaporations a bit much for a mind with as little sleep as she'd had lately. Putting the thick, complex book aside and climbing into bed early, only a little after 8:30pm, she fell asleep quickly, telling herself that it would be easy enough to put this behind her, and focus instead on teaching, lecturing, and research. Just a little hiccup that would soon become just a funny anecdote to share with friends over a drink.