Potions and Plans

Disclaimer: I've just 'borrowed' Rowling's lovely characters for an extended period of time. They might come back a little tarnished and OOC, but I hope she won't mind!! :)

Chapter Four: Potions and Plans

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She reminded Severus much of himself at such a young age. Too much. It was extremely embarrassing in reminiscence. How terribly eager he had been to be accepted... How deeply it had wounded him to be outcast by both peers and staff members of Hogwarts... If she continued down the road she was headed, one of solitary confinement with her books and self-disappointment, she would eventually end up a hardened individual...numb to pain, and even compassion. She would turn out like him.

Sweet Nimüe, Severus!

Again, she had entered his thoughts. It was not proper. Nor was it logically explainable. Everything seemed to remind him of the defiant, curly-haired woman with bright brown eyes.

He was sitting at the teachers' table during another monotonous faculty meeting. Minerva was talking about some completely irrelevant school issue or another. He had been staring into his tea for some time, allowing the pleasant orange-spice tickle his over exaggerated nostrils, and had pleasantly drifted into a sort of half-sleep. Not that he was in any way napping, for that would be silly, but one could say that higher brain function was now on holiday.

"...and Argus has prepared us a list of new Weasley products that should be confiscated if any student is in possession of this preposterous prank-inducing paraphernalia."

Say that three times fast, Severus thought to himself when he rose out of his daze.

"Will the Heads of House pass these on to their Prefects?" McGonagall continued.

"Still say hang 'em by their thumbs in the dungeons... Eye for an eye, I always said," Filch called out from the doorway, Mrs. Norris making figure eights around his knobby legs. Minerva's eyebrows nearly met her hairline at the thought of cruel and unusual punishment. 'Eye for an eye?'

Snape snorted. "Unfortunately, Argus, the dungeons are made for the use of teaching, not torturing students, now."

"Well said, Severus," Filius muttered under his breath, nudging him in the ribs.

"Although your methods might challenge that fact." Professor Sinistra cocked an eyebrow at him.

He chuckled.

"Yes, well, on to the next topic... Halloween is coming up, as we are all aware, and I have decided that there will be a ball." McGonagall flattened some non-existent wrinkles in her robes and cleared her throat. Severus rolled his eyes. No doubt he would have to attend. "Volunteers for chaperones?"

Severus, do not.

"Oh, come now." The headmistress looked around pleadingly.

Do not raise your hand. You don't want to deal with a bunch of hormonal...

"There needs to be a bit of festivity in our lives...and you shall all be a part of it anyway."

No, no, no. This is ludicrous. You hate festivity.

"You-Know-Who is dead and gone," the older witch said. "The war has passed..."

Do NOT raise your bloody hand even a centimetre!

"A celebration is in order!" McGonagall almost stamped her foot as her colleagues pretended to be preoccupied with their fingernails. Or the ceiling. Or the invisible lint on their knees.

"I will chaperone, Minerva." Severus mentally kicked himself. Fool, Severus.

Minerva exhaled with a thankful glance in his direction.

"As will I," Professor Vector mumbled, arms folded.

"Thank you, the both of you... Two more?"

"Fine." Professor Flitwick raised his hand, the tips of his fingers barely reaching the surface of the table.

"I'll go fer yeh, Professor," Hagrid croaked beneath his beard. Wherever there was punch and a bit of treacle-tart, he would be there.

"You owe us all a bit of Ogden's finest after we have succeeded in pulling out all of our hair, Minerva."

"That can be arranged, Severus. Meeting adjourned. Details on the event will be made clear within a week. After all, preparations must be made!" The headmistress smiled with glee and bid all still seated adieu.

"Well..." Ellsworth Yardley, the newest addition to the staff and Defence teacher, stood and waved a gnarled hand (from years of Auror experience) to the four unfortunates."Bon chance."

Yet another year of volunteer-work for my guilt and repayment to the school. What have I gotten myself into?

--

It had been around three weeks since Hermione's detention, but whenever she approached her pewter cauldron on dorm, the meagre collection of ingredients surrounding her in the confines of the linen closet, she found her mind wandered to him. She knew he had been watching her while she organized, and it had unnerved her so. He never paid notice to her when she had asked for it in previous years. Perhaps the war had changed him... Maybe he had suddenly made a vow to emanate a cheerier disposition.

"Ridiculous," she said to herself as the thought passed through her mind. She shook her head and sprinkled a measure of powdered cacao into her gurgling experiment. Rifling through a library-borrowed alchemical text, she looked for another ingredient that would make the concoction clear without setting off the more volatile components. Of course it would be now that work couldn't take her mind off things.

"Still doesn't make up for the fact that he is always staring at me." A chill ran up her spine involuntarily and soon became a shiver of disgust for herself, and Hermione slammed the tome shut. A dust cloud formed from the action, and she quickly put a Stasis charm upon her concoction so as not to completely ruin a week's worth of labour. She decided that a breather might be a good idea. Hermione stepped out of the closet and dusted off her robes only to find Harry leaning on the back of the couch across from the door.

"Hullo."

"Were you waiting for me?" She cocked her head to the side.

"I was. You wanna go for a walk or something? You look like you need it."

Hermione exhaled slowly with an exhausted nod. "Did you want to talk about something?" she asked as they stepped out of the portrait hole.

"No, 'Mione. I just wanted to spend some time with you." They made their way through the halls, talking about Ginny, changes, Ginny, and classes... He smirked when she brought up potions. He had grown accustomed to her new passion, but found it rather amusing that she held Snape in such reverence now, when she hadn't even witnessed the memories that proved him to be such a saint... "You haven't left that closet since you got the idea to make that new love potion."

"It is not a love potion, Harry."

"Whatever you say." He shoved his hands in his pockets, and they continued in silence until they reached the front hall.

"Apparently, you know something that I do not." She narrowed her eyes at him.

"Oh, no. You're Hermione Granger."

"Yes, I am..."

"How is there a possibility that I would know something you don't?"

She rolled her eyes and punched him on the arm, and they walked out onto the impeccably green lawn, laughing. As they neared the lake, they chatted spiritedly about Weasley's Wizard Wheezes, along with Harry's Auror training next summer, and then her past birthday. "How does it feel to be nineteen? Merlin, I feel so young!" He didn't mean it, though, despite Hermione's obvious maturity. They all had aged well beyond their years due to obvious recent events. "How did you like your presents? ...I've a feeling you didn't want books." He joked when she sighed about the disastrous attempt of Ron's to recover their relationship.

"Honestly..." she stopped and folded her arms, gazing out over the calm waters. "Whoever would want to be with someone who buys a load of tosh recommended to them by Molly Weasley," she spat out the matron's name as an insult, "is clinically insane. Of course I don't always want books. I'm not just an academic encyclopaedia! Besides, Ron and I aren't 'together' anymore. I appreciate gifts, but not ones to persuade me to come crawling back to his moping self." She paused, deciding that her soul was not something she wanted to bare at the moment... although Harry would have listened willingly. "Making it Work with Wands was among the more detested of the few... I did appreciate the ingredients you gave me, though. They were quite useful. I was able to add the Essence of Carrowack to my potion, after I looked up its properties."

"You're welcome, 'Mione," he chortled as their conversation broached on the subject of potions yet again. Hermione observed that he was much more laid back than in previous years, a lot more willing to listen, to relax, to allow for others to take the wheel. She had even seen his grades improve, and he was now flawless at Charms and Defence (naturally). "You really are obsessed. You know that, right?"

"Oh, yes," she agreed.

"It's not a bad thing, I suppose."

"No, I've yet to be possessed by my cauldron," she giggled. Just then a large tawny owl swooped down toward the unsuspecting friends, carrying an envelope with the Hogwarts seal on the front. Hermione opened it, knowing full well that it was intended for her. She was the eighth-year Head Girl, after all. "It's from McGonagall..." Her face lit up immediately when she sped through the end of the letter. Harry looked questioningly at her, but she would not reveal the contents. "Just a list of items that require confiscation..."

"Well, that's all well and good." Harry leaned in. "Nothing more?"

"Oh, no." She couldn't suppress a smile.

He nodded to her, unbelieving, but wrapping his arm around her shoulder just the same. They sat quietly, looking over the crystalline surface of the lake as a breeze teased their faces.

There was going to be a ball. A Halloween Ball. A cause for celebration. This was what the students of Hogwarts needed after long and trying years of darkness. It was time to let loose. She now had something to occupy her time other than potions... Maybe it would even preclude her thoughts of a certain silky-voiced man.

"Indeed," said Harry.

A/N: The scene is set; now we must wait and see what happens!

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