Five for Silver

Chapter 5: Five for Silver

Hermione awoke early the next morning, showered and dressed quickly, and then headed into the small kitchen to make toast and tea. She was surprised to find Snape already seated at the breakfast table, reading a newspaper and carefully sipping from a steaming white mug. After living alone for so many years, it was more than a little unnerving to suddenly find a man in the kitchen, and Hermione's step faltered as she approached. Despite the impressive size of the quarters, Hermione suspected their living arrangements would prove quite awkward for some time.

"Good morning," she said stiffly.

Snape grunted an acknowledgement without looking up.

Hermione prepared her breakfast and hesitatingly placed it on the table across from him. Then, remembering that she was handing over half of her classes today, she hurried to the office and grabbed her timetables and lesson plans for the students he'd be teaching. Hermione felt a pang of sadness over the loss; it had only been two months, but she had grown fond of many of the students in the early years and fiercely hoped that Snape would try to be kind to them.

She returned to the kitchen and took the seat across from him, asking, "Would you like to review the classes you'll be teaching now?"

Snape continued to read his paper and answered her without a glance. "That won't be necessary. As you may recall, I have done this before."

Hermione gritted her teeth and searched for patience. "Yes, of course. But we've already covered quite a bit, and I can show you where we are in each class. I've recorded the details of all the assignments and results in these notebooks; I can brief you on each students' progress."

"You need not bother."

"But why waste your time teaching them something they've already learnt?" she asked irritably, annoyed that he wouldn't even look at her when she spoke.

Finally, he raised his eyes from the newspaper and gazed at her coolly, causing Hermione to rethink her desire for eye contact. "To ensure they learn it correctly."

Hermione recoiled at his words, her face flushing with the insinuation of her incompetence.

"You really are an arrogant bast–," she began, but was promptly interrupted by a loud knock on the door to the living quarters.

Rising from the table, she left the kitchen and marched through the sitting room, angrily waving her wand at the door to Vanish it.

Draco Malfoy and Neville Longbottom stood before her with identical looks of concern on their faces.

"Hermione!" Neville spoke first, sounding out of breath. "It's all over the castle! Everyone's saying that Snape is here...and he's teaching Potions!"

"Yes, Neville; he arrived last night. He's having breakfast if you'd like to speak with him," Hermione told him, pointing toward her kitchen and watching as the colour drained from Neville's round face.

Draco eyed her speculatively. "I thought that might happen," he said quietly.

Hermione looked at him with only mild surprise. She knew Draco had travelled to St Mungo's to see Snape a few times since his miraculous awakening, but he hadn't given her any details about the visits. She'd presumed Draco had much to reconcile with his former Potions professor and hadn't wanted to pry into their discussions.

For her part, Hermione hadn't told either of her friends about her late-night visit to the headmistress' office on the first night of school. There had been no point in belabouring the idea if it might never come to fruition. But Draco didn't seem at all surprised about Snape's sudden appearance, and Hermione suspected he had sources of information which she could only guess at.

"He'll be living here?" Draco asked her now. "Are you all right with that?" He would of course remember the animosity between Hermione and Snape.

"I'll survive," she said with a smile. She'd certainly been through much worse than having Snape for a housemate. Even though she didn't relish the current situation, it was still better than leaving Hogwarts. This was her home.

"Well, you just let us know if he... if he..." Neville began in a protective tone but then trailed away, looking over Hermione's shoulder. "Good morning, Professor Snape," he mumbled.

Hermione turned around to find Snape silently watching their exchange. He was calmly leaning against the door to the sitting area with his robes drawn tightly around him, shrouding his arms where they lay folded across his chest. Upon his face, there appeared an all-too-familiar look of contempt.

"Ah, another trio," he said, his tone dripping with false enthusiasm. "How quaint."

Although she was still stinging from his earlier barbs about her teaching skills, Hermione forced herself to swallow the retort that sprang to her tongue, determined to avoid another scene like the one they'd shared in McGonagall's office last night. She could feel Draco and Neville standing behind her, and the way they shifted just slightly closer bolstered her courage.

With a look of disgust, Snape told her, "I see you are still incapable of residing in this castle without becoming part of an entourage."

"That's right," she bit back angrily, feeling herself neatly plummeting from her moral high ground, but unable to stop the fall. "They're called 'friends', Professor Snape. But I wouldn't expect that term to mean anything to you."

He paused only slightly before replying, "I've never felt compelled to surround myself with admirers to validate my sense of worth."

The phrase 'unlike you' was unspoken, but the implication was not lost on Hermione.

"How fortunate for the rest of us!" she fumed, placing her hands on her hips imperiously, annoyingly aware that her voice was becoming shrill. "If your sense of worth were any higher we'd all be crushed by your massive conceit!"

Snape merely looked amused at her insult and shifted from the doorway. "As charming as this has been, I'm afraid you will have to pardon me. Some of us have work to do," he added as he sauntered past them, through the office, and into the Potions classroom.

Hermione could tell by the faint sound of shuffling feet that the students had begun to fill the classroom and hoped they hadn't overheard her; it was hardly professional to be arguing with another teacher. Her arms fell back to her sides, and she clenched her fists in mounting frustration over the way Snape always managed to get under her skin.

"We've got to get going too, Hermione," Draco apologised. "Are you sure you're okay?"

Hermione shook her head, but answered in the affirmative. "I'm fine, really. Thank you both." More than anything, she was angry at herself for once again getting drawn into such an exchange with Snape. He really was the most irritating man she'd ever met.

"What are you going to do today?" Neville asked curiously.

"I don't know," Hermione replied, considering. It was Friday, which was already a short day for her, consisting only of classes with first-years, third-years, and fourth-years. She realised with a jolt that Snape would be teaching all but the last class, leaving her with a great deal more free time than she was accustomed to.

Thinking of McGonagall's dictate from the previous evening, she tried to stifle a sense of dread as she said, "I suppose I'll get to work setting up a research lab." Then she smiled a little mischievously and added, "Perhaps I can invent a 'Personality Potion' for my new housemate."

The other teachers chuckled and seemed reassured by her disposition. They departed, and Hermione reinstated the Vanishing door behind them. Even through the door, she could hear Snape's captivating voice emanating from the classroom and had to suppress the desire to stand there and eavesdrop. Instead, she returned to the kitchen and focused on her breakfast, which had now grown quite cold.

Hermione had just popped the last bite of toast into her mouth when she realised with a start that all the lesson plans, notebooks, and timetables she had brought in earlier were gone. She searched the kitchen and other rooms with growing confusion. Hermione knew they couldn't have just Vanished; she had long ago learnt to protect her books with an anti-Vanishing charm after a rather unfortunate incident with a cheeky sixth–year student.

Gazing at Snape's empty chair in puzzlement, Hermione realised this could only mean one thing: despite his obvious reluctance, Snape had taken the books with him after all.

*****

Hermione spent her day heeding McGonagall's advice and creating an area which would eventually function as a laboratory. With the caretaker's help, she found an abandoned classroom on the ground floor and worked hard to make it suitable. It would take some time to bring in the equipment and supplies she'd need, but McGonagall had stopped by at midday and had promptly authorised the procurement of everything she'd asked for.

"There's no reason why advancements and breakthroughs can only happen at institutions of higher learning," she'd informed Hermione. "I believe it's time you put your excellent mind to work and start earning Hogwarts some of those accolades you brought to Jagiellonian University."

Hermione assured her that she'd try her best, secretly hoping the headmistress' expectations weren't too high. She had been so shaken by her time at Arglist Industries that just going through the motions of setting up a lab was causing her to break out in a nervous sweat.

By the time Hermione returned to the dungeons to teach the Gryffindor and Hufflepuff fourth–years, she was actually pleased with the progress she'd made. Passing by the office on her way to the head of the classroom, Hermione saw that Snape was inside the small room, sitting at her desk. Our desk, she corrected herself mentally, feeling her mood sour.

When all the students had arrived, she instructed them to break into groups so they could resume work on the Creativity Potion they'd started the previous day. It was a complicated draught which required the preparation of the many ingredients during one lesson while the brewing commenced separately. There was a great deal of noise as students got their cauldrons out and banged them onto their desks.

Hermione began a brief lecture on the history and uses of Creativity Potion but faltered when Snape came out of the office and slowly stalked amongst the tables at the back of the class. She quickly resumed her lecture, glancing his way occasionally and wondering what he was up to. Snape appeared entirely unconcerned by her discomfort; he casually leant his hip against an empty desk and watched her speak, his arms folded elegantly beneath the folds of his robes.

When Hermione finished her speech and could no longer stand his silent presence, she asked, "Professor Snape, is there something you need?"

The students turned to watch with avid interest, and Hermione had a feeling her argument with Snape this morning had not gone unnoticed. From the looks on the students' faces, the story had grown in the retelling and had undoubtedly been a topic of great interest around the school today.

"Not at all...this is quite fascinating. By all means, please continue, Professor Granger," he said with a tone of civility she knew better than to trust.

Hermione quickly realised she was trapped. Snape obviously intended to stay and watch her teach the entire class, which, she remembered miserably, happened to be a double lesson. She saw no way out of the situation...she certainly couldn't stand here and argue with him in front of the students, nor could she demand he remove himself. She doubted McGonagall would support that; after all, the headmistress had directed Snape to investigate whatever he'd missed in the past fourteen years. Hermione could just imagine him telling Minerva how he merely wanted to familiarise himself with the new teaching methods.

No, there was simply no way out of it. With great conviction, Hermione reminded herself that she'd never backed down from a challenge in her life, and she wasn't about to start now.

She forced a friendly smile onto her face and told him sweetly, "Excellent! Feel free to ask any questions you may have." His lips pursed at her statement, mollifying her slightly.

The students returned to their work with disappointment; they were evidently hoping for something much more dramatic. Hermione began to lead them into the process of brewing their potions. She walked around their tables, watching them work and stopping every so often to offer bits of advice to the class or answer questions from an individual.

Creativity Potion was actually one of her favourites to make, and she soon felt quite comfortable. She was inordinately proud of her students, who were all progressing very well; soon each table had a promising-looking brew cooking in their cauldron.

"Once your potion has started to smoke, watch it carefully for bubbles," Hermione advised them, stopping by a table of Hufflepuffs. "After you've seen the fourth bubble, you may begin to slowly add the nun moth larvae."

"Don't you mean gypsy moth larvae?" purred a voice from behind her. Hermione spun around to find Snape towering over her, his hands clasped behind his back. She hadn't realised he had left his spot from the back of the class and was alarmed by how silently he could move.

"No, it's the nun moth larvae," she affirmed.

"The recipe requires gypsy moths. Nun moths are much smaller than gypsy moths," he pointed out imperiously.

"Yes, that's why we're using twice as many," she said through gritted teeth.

Out of the corner of her eye, Hermione saw that several of the students were watching their exchange, completely ignoring their cauldrons. "Four bubbles, students!" she shouted, turning away from Snape. "If you miss this window, the results will not be pretty!"

Hermione noted with satisfaction that the faces quickly returned to the potions, and she soon heard the requisite hissing as the larvae were added. Snape had moved to another table, and Hermione watched him intently observing the mixture boiling in the Gryffindors' cauldron. When it rapidly turned from a pale puce to the required dark grey, he returned his gaze to Hermione, arched one dark eyebrow, and slowly bowed his head in acknowledgement.

Feeling deliriously happy at the small gesture, Hermione smiled at him genuinely before turning back to the class.

"As Professor Snape pointed out, many recipes for Creativity Potion call for the larvae of gypsy moths, or Lymantria dispar. The nun moth, Lymantria monacha, is a close relative with a slightly different diet, consisting mainly of fruit trees. This means that nun moth larvae contain higher concentrations of sugar," Hermione told them.

Several students nodded in understanding, so she ploughed on, pointing to the swirling contents of the cauldron beside her. "As you can see, the sugar enzymes serve as activators for the other bio-molecules, thus providing the catalyst for rapid chemical reaction."

Twenty-odd blank faces stared back at her, completely gobsmacked.

With a slight huff she said, "It turns grey faster."

Now she could see comprehension on their faces, and she even thought she heard a soft chuckle from Snape, although his back was turned to her so she couldn't be certain.

"This particular potion used to require six hours to brew," she informed her class as she walked to the storeroom and returned with a small tank which looked surprisingly heavy.

"Today, I'm going to show you a way to cut that down to less than two hours," she announced, delighted to note the students...and even Snape...watching her with interest.

Hermione set the tank on her desk and removed the vacuum flask inside, opening a pressure relief valve with a loud hiss. Then she filled an insulated container with the bubbling liquid from the flask. Huge waves of thick vapour emitted from the vessel, roiling and whirling before sinking to the ground from their heavy weight.

"This is a critical point in the brewing process of the Creativity Potion," Hermione said as she joined the students at one of the desks. "Gather 'round, please."

The students clustered around the desk, and Hermione was pleased to see that even Snape was standing behind them, his curiosity evidently outweighing his disdain.

Hermione continued, "Normally, at this juncture the potion would be removed from the flame and the mixture would need to be cooled as quickly as possible. In the past, this involved rapidly stirring it or, for someone skilled in Charms, casting the difficult Frigus charm. Both methods worked, but were quite labour-intense."

Lifting the smoking thermos, she said, "Now this... is simple!"

Hermione instructed one student to extinguish the flame beneath the cauldron and carefully stir the contents while she slowly added a few drops of liquid from the container. There was a great hissing noise as massive clouds of white smoke rose over the sides of the cauldron, spilling onto the desk and swirling hypnotically around them.

Hermione gently leant across the table and angled her chin over the cauldron. Then ever-so-softly and ever-so-slowly, she blew on the vapour and watched it float away, revealing the perfect silver potion churning in the bottom of the cauldron. Her face alight with triumph, she looked up and met Snape's gaze. With amazement, she noted that for once he wasn't frowning at her. There was a look of blatant interest in his dark eyes that sent her pulse speeding and skipping through her veins like a hummingbird searching for nectar.

If she could have seen herself, Hermione would have been surprised by what a lovely picture she made, leaning over the cauldron with her face flushing prettily amidst the billowing vapours. It was an image that did not go unnoticed by others in the room that day.

Hermione told herself it was just the success of having passed Snape's little unspoken test that had her stomach fluttering nervously when he regarded her. It had nothing whatsoever to do with the fact that his ebony eyes seemed to caress her face or with the way his gaze held hers far longer than propriety would dictate.

*****

Thanks so much to karelia for amazing support and unparalleled beta skills (little_beloved is on holiday and hopefully having a fabulous time!). The lovely lettybird does the Brit-picking and is ever so kind to me!