September 2001
Hermione yawned at the long staff table. She wasn't particularly hungover, but the sleep she was getting wasn't enough.
There were many open seats; students weren't arriving until just before dinner that evening, so many of the teachers had opted to have breakfast in their rooms.
She heard a tinkle of laughter to her right; Rowland chatted excitedly with Professor Sinistra, who was giggling. His shiny hair lay in curls framing his face, his green eyes twinkling as he smiled at her and helped himself to a large portion of scrambled eggs and ham. He was quite handsome, but Aurora was laughing rather a lot. Hermione smirked inwardly.
He must be hilarious, a sarcastic voice in her head replied.
Hermione dropped her fork. The clattering that it made on her ceramic plate caused the other teachers to look up at her curiously. The noise woke her from her sudden trance, only to see the concerned faces of Flitwick, McGonagall, and Rowland studying her.
"Whoops." She smiled sheepishly and picked up her fork.
She continued eating, averting her eyes from her audience. What was that?
Hermione was sure she had heard it from inside her head. She felt ice-cold, her body shuddering. She felt as though - as though she was back in the cellar and that voice was once again keeping her from breaking. Her hands shook involuntarily. The last time the voice in her head spoke up, she was in grave danger. Could that be the case now?
She looked around to the hall; nothing seemed out of the ordinary. She turned to look to her left and realized that the chair next to her was occupied by the signature black form of Severus Snape. How does he keep doing that?
She also realized that there were plenty of chairs to choose from.
"Pass the coffee, please." His warm, slow voice pulled her away from her hyper-aware state.
She nodded and picked up the carafe, it shook as she passed it to him, despite her best effort.
Snape narrowed his brows at her shaking hands and reached to take it. He poured his coffee but kept his eyes on her.
Hermione felt the need to explain but also realized that he probably didn't want her to unload her trauma this early in the morning. She certainly didn't want to ruin whatever friend/colleague/drinking buddy relationship they had going by annoying him.
Minerva broke the silence. She leaned backward in her chair to speak to their side of the table. "Severus! Why I haven't seen you at a non-compulsory meal in years! Not that we're complaining. It's good to have you back." She raised her goblet towards him.
Snape looked like he was cursing in his head. He raised his goblet politely and nodded to Minerva. He seemed very aware of eyes on him but didn't speak.
Hermione heard, before she saw, that a dozen owls of various coloring had entered the great hall through the roof. They flew in circles above, searching for the recipients of the letters they carried.
"Fascinating that we allow owls to fly around while people are eating." Severus drawled, hunching slightly over his plate, as though to shield it.
Hermione smiled at him, completely forgetting her nerves. "I've been saying that for years. I don't care if their little butts are charmed,-"
Snape snorted his orange juice.
"-it just doesn't seem sanitary to me."
He recovered quickly, wiping his mouth and straightening, just as a handsome tan barn owl landed on the table in front of Hermione. Tied to its leg was a brown paper parcel. It was hard to tell what the brown paper carried, as its shape was not a box or an envelope, but a cone.
She freed the bird from its duty and held out a piece of toast. He happily snatched it and flew off toward the open windows.
The package, which was lighter than she'd anticipated, was tied with a piece of white string that held a small folded card. She opened it.
Good luck, Professor.
There was no signature. She began to tug at the string when Snape's hand came down on hers quickly, but gently. It was warmer than she'd have thought. Not that she had thought-
"Don't-" Severus hissed. He pulled out his wand and waved it over the package. Nothing happened. He nodded his approval, watching closely.
"Good thinking."
He rolled his eyes.
Hermione blushed, a bit embarrassed that she had been about to open a strange package without casting a detection charm. Hogwarts had made her feel safe again, but maybe that wasn't a good thing. Maybe she was letting her guard down. She needed to be more careful. After all, Hogwarts had been sieged before.
She pulled at the string and the paper fell away, revealing a beautiful bouquet of black flowers. But at second glance, they weren't black at all. There were deep crimson dahlias, purple roses so rich they seemed the color of the night sky, and small, pale purple flowers to set them off. Altogether, they certainly did seem to have the effect of a beautiful gothic bouquet.
She looked up to Snape. "How odd."
His strong jaw was tight, he took a deep breath. Lowly, he asked, "You don't know who they might be from?" His voice caressed her senses and sent shivers down her neck. She was grateful her hair was down to cover the evidence.
"Not at all. I'm not seeing anyone and my Fath-" Hermione paused. "No, I don't know anyone who would have sent flowers."
"Maybe they're from an admirer?" He suggested.
She snorted, "I don't think I have any admirers."
"Not even Mr. Weasley?" Snape said tightly.
"No. Ron wouldn't send something like this. And he definitely would have signed his name." Hermione smirked. Yes, Ron would want credit. "Maybe Ginny? I'll ask her later."
"May I inspect those flowers before you take them to your quarters? I will bring them back to you this evening."
"No."
He raised an eyebrow. "You don't want my help?"
"No! I do, it's just-"
His voice cut in with a sharp edge. "You don't trust me?"
Hermione's mouth wasn't moving fast enough; she was messing this up. "NO- I …can I come?"
"Where?"
"Wherever you're…" She gestured her hand uselessly. "Can I help?"
"Oh." Snape's expression neutralized. "Yes."
He stood suddenly and looked down at her.
She paused for a beat. "You mean now?"
"Are you finished eating?" He drawled.
"Right!" She threw down her napkin, picked up her flowers and bag, and followed Snape out the main hall doors into the corridor.
She followed him at a pace much too fast to be sustainable. He walked as though he owned the place, his black robes flying behind him, waving in the wind he created. As they came to the hallway that would lead them to the Herbology wing, he kept walking.
"Professor, where are we going?"
Snape looked back at her, slowing slightly as he saw she was several paces behind him. "To my office."
"Not to see Professor Sprout?"
"Pomona is not the only talented herbalist in the castle." Severus strode to a suit of armor and it stepped aside for him, revealing a small arched doorway. It was about seven feet tall, and holding an extremely sharp, shiny sword. As she approached, it shifted from a resting position to an offensive one, its hand going to the hilt.
"Severus," She hesitated, she had never called him by his first name before, "why do you have a guard in front of your office?"
"So that students do not enter." He held the door open for her, and she ducked inside. She couldn't help but notice his smell, like clean laundry and freshly ground herbs.
"And what if they need your help?" Hermione looked around his office.
"Then they'd better know how to swordfight."
Hermione barely registered his words as she took in the large, sunny room. It was beautiful. From floor to ceiling stretched racks and racks of jars, perfectly flush, each with a small label. She had never seen such a wide display of perfectly preserved, labeled, and organized potion ingredients. Something in her brain delighted at the aesthetic.
There was a small window overlooking the lake, it was a lovely bright day out. On that window, several dozen small vials held propagating plants and cuttings. One such vase, much larger than the rest sat on his desk, a cascade of healthy green vines trailed off of it onto a stack of books.
On the other half of the room were hundreds of books, perfectly organized, and a handsome wooden library ladder. She blinked at the high walls, the sturdy wooden shelves. There were various editions of Hogwarts potions textbooks, guides by medicinal category, and also niche titles like Carnivorous Plants of the Andes Mountains and Nepalean Healing Roots.
Snape stepped up to the ladder and pulled a large book down. It had a viridian green cover and gold leaves embossed into the fabric.
"Floriography?" Hermione read from the cover.
Severus didn't look up. "Do you know it?"
"I haven't read it, but Floriography is the language of flowers, right?" A muggle book, she thought.
"10 points to Gryffindor."
"I wish."
He smirked and flipped through the pages, stopping midway through. "Just as I thought."
Snape handed her the book. It was open to a page with a drawing of the small purple flowers. "This bouquet is a threat. I needed to check for confirmation, but now I am sure. "
"I don't follow."
"Flowers have always had specific meanings depending on the type and color, but also the recipient and the sender." He picked up the bouquet again. "A few hundred years ago, someone clever wrote a book and we've believed flowers hold special meaning ever since."
"Roses for true love."
"Or lavender, for ill will."
"Lavender? Really?"
"Cleopatra was bitten by a snake that was hiding under a lavender bush." He picked up the bouquet. "None of it means anything in a practical sense, but the sender's intention is clear."
He pointed to the largest flower. "Black dahlias are a symbol of betrayal. Black roses are a promise of death or revenge."
His finger pointed to the small purple flowers. "And the last ones are the Tansies. Those are a declaration of war."
Hermione went pale. "War? Who would-?"
He narrowed his eyes. "Any Death Eater that isn't dead."
Right. Hermione considered this. "Why me? I'm no one."
"You are Harry Potter's friend, that makes you a valuable target for revenge." He sat down on the edge of his desk in front of her. "This may be nothing, one of your idiot friends may have just forgotten to sign their name, but you must be careful." His eyes held concern, and the narrow lines between his brows creased.
His eyes lingered on her, and Hermione felt a swooping feeling in her middle. The way his eyes held her...she shook off the feeling. She remembered to her horror that Severus was possibly the most talented and practiced legilimens she would ever meet.
"Thank you, I will." Hermione gazed at the stacks of books as an excuse to avoid his eye. She was reluctant to leave the gorgeous office. "I…didn't know you liked Herbology."
"You are the Potions Mistress now. If you're going to control the quality of your potions, you'd better start growing ingredients yourself."
A pang of shame hit Hermione. She had never really invested any extra time into Herbology as she did other subjects; just enough to get perfect marks. "I've never - I wouldn't know where to start."
Snape considered her for a moment and then stepped back up the ladder. He sorted through the titles and pulled out three small volumes. He stepped down gracefully and handed them to her. "When you're finished with these, let me know. I have others."
"You're…letting me borrow your books?"
Severus presented the bouquet to her, holding them upside-down by the stem. "See you at the feast, Professor."
She took them, giving him a confused look.
Snape averted his eyes. "According to the book, if you want to convey a positive wish with black dahlias, you must present them upside down."
She couldn't help the small smile that came to her face, so she turned and left before he could see it.