Hermione stared at her professor in disbelief.
Partnering with Snape?
She had been pleasantly surprised not to be scrubbing out cauldrons, but now she thought that she would take that in a heartbeat if it meant avoiding being in such close proximity to her sullen potions master for an entire hour.
Snape stared back at her with black and unfeeling eyes, daring her to challenge him.
Gulping, Hermione only nodded and set to reading the potion instructions, ignoring the fact the professor was merely a foot away from her.
As she skimmed the textbook, he set about laying out the ingredients, and began chopping valerian roots in quick and precise strokes. From the corner of her eye, Hermione watched as he worked.
She had never seen anyone work so quickly and efficiently. The academic side of Hermione was fascinated as she watched what was clearly a master at work, chopping the roots with ease at three times the speed she ever could. Each motion was fluid, and his hands were strong looking and yet graceful, his silver dagger a blur.
With a jolt, Hermione remembered that she was supposed to be working, and busied herself with measuring the correct quantities of Bicorn horn.
They worked in silence for a few minutes, the only noise was the crackle of the fire from under the cauldron and chopping of ingredients. As they worked in tandem, Hermione did her best to keep up with the professor, not in the mood to be scolded or jabbed at.
"We need to add the moonstone crystals within the next 2 minutes, Granger." Snape commanded without looking up, his voice sharp and instructive.
"Here you go, Professor. They're already prepared." She replied, secretly proud of herself for having kept up with Snape's rapid pace.
However, he didn't spare her a glance, instead just gesturing for her to add the crystals to the simmering potion.
Hermione sighed, trying to keep the disappointment off of her face. She added the ingredients to the simmering cauldron and got back to the rest of the instructions.
As more time passed, herself and Snape developed a steady rhythm while they prepared.
"Lavender infusion - 2 drops."
"Got it, Professor."
"Adding the gillyweed extract now, Professor. Could you hand me the vial?"
"Granger, cut the unicorn hair - fine pieces would be best."
"Yes, Professor. Lowering the temperature by three degrees for step four."
As the pair continued to work in relative silence, Hermione found she was secretly pleased to have a partner who could for once keep up with her. After years of partnering with Harry and Ron, and taking on the majority of the work, it was nice to have someone capable and steady who remained just as focused as she did. And Snape wasn't being half as bad as she expected, with no cruel jibes and only half as much sneering as usual.
While Hermione stirred the potion counter-clockwise, she once again glanced at the man beside her.
Snape was bent over a mortar and pestle, raven hair falling into his eyes. His hair was the inkiest shade of black she had ever seen, even darker than Harry's. As she watched, the light from the fire beneath the cauldron reflected in the blackness. Now that she really looked, his hair wasn't greasy as many liked to say, but shiny and slick.
His collar was high, looking stiff and uncomfortable and yet elegant. He never seemed to have a single crease in his robes, and she had never seen him so much as undo a button on his waist coat.
As she watched her professor, his brow furrowed in concentration, much the same way she knew her own did when she was focused on her work.
Hermione thought back to the comment Ginny had made earlier that day. She wondered if Snape really hadn't been with a woman in so long, and maybe never. She had never seen him so much as talk to a woman outside of Hogwarts staff or the Order, and even then he always seemed like he wished to be anywhere else.
If he truly had no romantic female interaction, she wondered why not. Yes, Snape could be cruel and a bully at the best of times - but if people like Malfoy and even Voldemort had women throwing themselves at them, then this surely wasn't a problem.
He really wasn't bad looking. In fact, now she watched, he moved with a graceful confidence which, if she did not know him better, she would have certainly found attractive.
As Hermione considered this thought with an ounce of horror, Snape's eyes snapped up to hers.
His eyes were black and commanding, and she stared back like a deer in the headlights. She was unable to drag her eyes away.
What surprised her most was the intensity of his gaze. Unlike his usual stare which felt like it looked right through her, she was shocked by the expression there - almost like he was drinking her in.
The shared look carried on for what felt like an eternity, until Hermione felt like her eyes were burning under his gaze. She dragged her eyes away, turning back to the cauldron as she felt a blush creeping up her chest and on to her cheeks.
Snape cleared his throat, and she heard him resume his preparations.
"The potion requires a 10 minute interval to simmer before we add the next ingredients. We shall have to wait and survey to make sure it does not boil over." He remarked, breaking the silence.
"Oh, okay." Hermione replied awkwardly, wondering if she would endure 10 minutes of uncomfortable silence with her professor with no distractions.
As she finished her stirring of the cauldron, Snape threw in a powder and then stood back to watch, while she sunk back further into her chair.
They were so close, if she reached out she could touch him. As the cauldron simmered, the silence stretched on, with Snape clearly not feeling the need to fill it.
Hermione endured this for as long as she could, before blurting out "I finished my essay on the properties of Mandrake roots and their use in restorative potions," her voice breaking the silence that had settled between them. She couldn't bear the awkward tension any longer, and discussing her academic work was a familiar escape.
Snape, who was gazing intently at the cauldron as it simmered, did not turn to face her, his expression still somewhat inscrutable. "Indeed?" he replied, his voice low and measured.
Hermione nodded, her blush subsiding as she focused on the topic she knew so well. "Yes, Professor. I've included detailed information on the cultivation of Mandrakes, their maturity process, and the preparation of their restorative draughts. I thought you might find it interesting, though it was about 12 inches over what you asked for. I just thought it seemed too simplified to not discuss their uses in other potions which weren't restorative," she rambled on.
Snape turned his attention from the simmering cauldron to Hermione, a sardonic smile playing on his lips. "Oh, how marvellous," he replied, his tone dripping with sarcasm. "I can hardly contain my excitement."
Hermione bit her lip, regretting her decision to speak, as Snape's snarky response only added to the discomfort of the situation. The silence resumed, with Hermione seething at her professor's response.
If she were in Slytherin, she was sure the potions master would actually be interested in her essay. She had spent much longer on it than she usually would, redrafting it four times before she was happy. But of course, not even that would impress Snape.
Hermione angrily crossed her arms, glowering at the desk. She didn't know why she tried! Always making an effort for everyone, and no one appreciated it. Even Ron, her so-called best friend.
With the bitter reminder of the earlier fiasco with Ron, Hermione's eyes narrowed further and she outwardly huffed, not caring that Snape was there.
She could feel his piercing gaze on her, but did not look up. She wasn't in the mood for his scrutiny, after the night she had had.
To think, she had been rather excited for Ron to see her with her makeup and hair done. Only for him to comment that she usually didn't so much as bother to brush it! In frustration, she reached up to the clips holding her hair up and yanked them out, letting her curls tumble down around her shoulders.
"You are aware, Miss Granger," Snape's voice cut through the silence, "that in the world of potion-making, most would consider it prudent to keep their hair out of their face? One would think it common sense. Especially with a mane like yours."
With this comment, Hermione felt a snap inside her.
"Oh for goodness sake!" She snapped, "First Ron, and now you! When will men find it within themselves to STOP commenting on what I should or shouldn't do with my hair?"
Hermione's outburst seemed to take even Snape by surprise. His gaze remained locked on her for a moment longer, and then he slowly turned his attention back to the simmering cauldron, his expression unreadable.
"It's not a matter of men, Miss Granger," he replied, his voice laced with a touch of dry amusement. "It's a matter of practicality. In potion-making, appearances matter less than results."
Hermione huffed in frustration. She turned her attention back to the cauldron, but the tension in the room had reached a palpable level, and the uncomfortable silence persisted.
She couldn't quite believe she had snapped at a Professor, never mind Snape. Even more so, she was surprised that he hadn't issued a harsh rebuke . Even so, she still felt her anger burn in her core, and she couldn't help but direct it at Snape. After all, his unfair treatment was the reason she was even here in the first place.
Without looking at him, she spoke again with a voice laced with suppressed rage. "You know, Professor, it's not just about my hair," she began, her tone cutting through the tension in the room. "It's about how you constantly ignore me in every class. No matter how hard I work, how much effort I put into my studies, you never seem to acknowledge it. It's maddening, really. I've had it up to here with your... your stubborn refusal to give credit where it's due! I know I'm not in Slytherin, but you could at least praise me when I perform well, to encourage me, the same way you do with them!"
Hermione's heart was racing as she came to the end of her outburst, while Snape completely stilled. As the tense silence stretched on, she felt like crawling in a hole, realising that she shouldn't have spoken at all.
Bracing herself for Snape's wrath, she chanced a glance in his direction from the corner of her eye, her face bright red.
The potions master was staring at her in silence, a completely unreadable expression on his face. He didn't look angry, more shocked. She supposed she was probably the only student who had ever openly snapped at him.
As Hermione squirmed in her seat under his gaze, his expression changed. His eyes roamed over her, from head to toe, scrutinising her. His eyes then shifted, from surprised to something else altogether.
"Well, Miss Granger. You've certainly been keeping that bottled up. Now, does the brightest witch of her age really need her potions professor to compliment her for her to feel confident in her own abilities?" His voice seemed to be dripping from him, dangerously low.
Hermione swallowed nervously as Snape continued on, "I would have thought it exceedingly obvious when I asked you to partner me with this potion, that I find you very capable. I don't ask students to… assist me often."
He drew closer, leaning one hand on the desk in front of her as he bowed his head so they were face to face.
"However, I can see that I misjudged you," His voice was almost a whisper, his face inches from hers, "A bright witch who is constantly overlooked by her own friends and peers - from now on I'll give you the praise you deserve. Let's see if you respond to more…. Vigorous encouragement."