Chapter 19

Disclaimer: Not mine. I just borrowed them for a while. I promise to put them back when I'm done. Oh, nope, no money either...just for fun.

I want to give a great big thank you hug to EverMystique and DuchessOfArcadia for combing through this to point out my numerous errors and help me make this presentable for reading. You're the best, thank you!

And to Jay, thank you for my lovely banner. Hugs~

Severus couldn't believe the idiocy of the Ministry of Magic. Even after the Death Eater 'demonstration' at the Quidditch World Cup, Fudge still pressed forward with the Triwizard Tournament and Dumbledore allowed it! At least Dumbledore had the forethought to restrict attendance to the school and hire an ex-Auror for the post of Defense, even if it was Alastor Moody. But Dumbledore refused to impose a tighter curfew or allow Filch to use sensory and detection probes on all the guests and Ministry personnel. What did they think? That the Death Eaters' demonstration after the game had been merely for show...as part of the entertainment? Something was up, stirring in the background, and Severus wasn't sure who was behind it.

He looked over to where Miss Granger sat between Mr. Potter and Mr. Weasley and their house ghost, laughing. But when the food arrived, Miss Granger looked upset. He couldn't fathom why. The two boys seemed unperturbed. He shook his head. Her emotional state was not his concern. He wished his only concern for the year were the extra potions Madam Pomfrey would require because of this blasted tournament.

Miss Granger sipped on her juice and set the goblet down gently as she conversed with that idiot Weasley. As usual, her manners were impeccable, considering she was surrounded by uncouth imbeciles stuffing their faces. Weasley was jabbing his fork at her, his mouth full of half-masticated food as he responded. Severus turned his head to observe what his Slytherins were up to. What he'd had with Miss Granger was in the past and best forgotten.

He had other concerns this year to deal with. Little Walter Waters and Eugene Coulters, both half-bloods...or less according to some, had been sorted into his house. As was the Lestrange girl, Brynhilda. That is a problem I didn't want this year. So far, the other students were too busy catching up with friends to bother the boys, and Miss Lestrange seemed to be talking amicably with the other first-year girls. Maybe she won't take after her three infamous relatives.

He turned to Aurora Sinistra and asked her how her summer went.

For Hermione the year was starting out the usual way, full of surprises, and not all of them were good ones. At the Sorting Feast, she'd found out that Hogwarts had slaves, house-elves enslaved to do all the cleaning and cooking for the entire school, and that still irritated her. Plus Hagrid had found some disgusting, stinging, fire-shooting things he called Blast-Ended Skrewts that was to be their Care of Magical Creatures project for an undetermined length of time. She liked Hagrid, but she'd been hoping to be introduced to nicer creatures this year such as Augureys, Diricawls, Unicorns, Centaurs or at least something with fur.

And if that wasn't enough, Professor Snape was back to his scathing, snarky self. Although scary to look at, Professor Moody certainly was an interesting bloke. Hermione still smiled when she remembered seeing him turn Malfoy into a ferret. And his lessons! Hermione was quite apprehensive about his curriculum considering he'd started the year teaching them about the Unforgivables. Seeing even the Imperius used on class members still gave her the chills, although she and Harry had finally learned how to throw it off.

Then there was this tournament, the Triwizard Tournament, to look forward to. Only, Hermione was rather anxious about the whole thing, now that Harry was a champion. The night the champions had been announced, Harry had looked so scared, and when he'd returned to the common room, he had been so down, really quite withdrawn, and escaped to his room quickly, well as quickly as he could. To make matters worse, now even Ron wasn't speaking to him.

Hermione was so angry with Ron. Sure, Ron had been excited to see Viktor Krum, and he was completely besotted with Fleur Delacour, but his jealousy toward Harry was affecting both of their concentration. Harry had been so unfocused in Charms, he'd been completely incapable of learning the Summoning Charm.

When she and Harry arrived outside Professor Snape's classroom, Malfoy and his Slytherin friends were taunting Harry and flashing some ridiculous badges. "Oh, very funny," Hermione said sarcastically to Pansy and her friends* who were puffing out their chests and making the badges change and flash. "Very witty.*"

She tried to block out Malfoy's taunting and keep Harry focused on their conversation, but Malfoy was winning. "Harry, the badges are not at all funny...simply another way to tease you," she said, touching his arm. "You've had to deal with their taunting for years... Do you hear me?"

But Harry's face contorted in anger.

"Harry!" she tried to warn him the moment she saw him pull his wand. Draco had his out, and the students were scrambling to move out of the way. "Harry, no!"

But her cry was overshadowed by Harry yelling, "Furnunculus!" the same time Malfoy shouted, "Densaugo!"

In an instant her vision was blurred as the spell that Malfoy cast collided with Harry's, Malfoy's hitting Hermione full in the face. She reeled back, almost losing her balance except someone had shoved her back upright. "Hermione!" she heard Ron cry, but the ringing in her ears made everything around her drown out, and there was a tremendous sharp pain in her mouth, which was making her eyes water. Hermione touched her mouth and gasped. Her front two teeth were growing, stretching down over her lower lip. She let out a startled cry. I don't know the counter-curse for Densaugo! It didn't matter; she wouldn't have been able to say it anyway because her teeth were now touching her chin.

Suddenly Professor Snape had arrived, and she felt a sense of relief. Surely he'd put things straight. The buzzing in her ears was subsiding, and she could hear him saying, "... hospital wing, Goyle.*"

"Malfoy got Hermione!*" Ron said accusingly and yanked Hermione's arms down, forcing her to show her teeth to Professor Snape. He'd hardly needed to in her opinion since they were now practically down to her collar. The Slytherins were all gaping at her, pointing and laughing. Lavender and Parvati were laughing as well. Only the guys looked at her sympathetically.

Professor Snape was staring down at her with a hard cold expression. "I see no difference.*"

Hermione choked back a sob at his cruelty, turned around and ran away. She couldn't believe him! How could he not see she was in trouble? Tears streamed down her face, and she was drooling uncontrollably, but she managed to make it to the hospital wing without tripping on the stairs she could barely see.

"Miss Granger, have a seat right over there," Madam Pomfrey suggested kindly, pointing to an empty cot. She pulled a curtain around the bed of the student she'd been helping and walked over to her. "Tsk, tsk, nothing to do until they stop growing, I'm afraid."

Hermione watched in horror as Madam Pomfrey pulled a syringe with an impossibly thick needle from her pocket and filled it up with a purple potion. "Tip your head back, Miss Granger. I'll just squirt this Pain Potion into your mouth. You won't be able to use a cup I'm afraid."

Hermione did as she was told, indicating with her hand when she needed to swallow. Madam Pomfrey even squirted some of the potion on her gums, which helped a little. Once the pain lessened, Hermione changed into the pajamas and crawled into bed. It seemed to take hours, and she must have dozed off because when she opened her eyes, Madam Pomfrey was setting a tray beside her bed.

"Now, let's see about those teeth." She gave Hermione a mirror and instructed her to tell her when they looked normal.

Hermione gasped when she realized that her teeth had nearly reached her navel. She watched in fascination as her engorged teeth began to shrink. When they did look normal, she looked imploringly up at Madam Pomfrey. "Almost, but a bit smaller," she fudged hopefully. Madam Pomfrey smiled and nodded, and Hermione allowed the Healer to make her teeth look perfect, straight and even, as if she'd had braces for years. As Hermione admired her new smile, Madam Pomfrey carefully placed the tray across her lap.

"It's a heavy meat broth and bread, Miss Granger," the kindly matron said. "Soak the bread and try to swallow it. I don't want you chewing."

Hermione tried her best not to chew. The broth had mashed peas and potatoes in it that went down easily enough, and the bread was so fresh it had melted in her mouth once it had been saturated with the broth.

She had just finished when Professor Snape stepped through the curtain. "I came to see how your teeth are."

"They're fine," she said waspishly, setting down her spoon.

He levitated her tray to her bedside table with a slow wave of his hand. "I was rude to you in the corridor, Miss Granger," he said softly.

It wasn't an apology, but at least it was an admission. "Yes, sir."

"Show me, please."

His request startled her, but she crossed her arms and bared her teeth with a forced smile.

"I see you've decided to improve them," he said after she closed her mouth.

His coolness toward her was unsettling. "I didn't see why not," she replied petulantly.

"Your smile was fine the way it was," he said offhandedly.

She looked up at him, amazed and a little hurt. Why is he being so obtuse about it? They were awful. I was always teased about being a beaver...

He looked directly at her. "Not your best feature...but you."

His face had the familiar mask of indifference he generally wore, only now that she knew him...or at least his younger self...she noticed that there seemed to be a bit of sadness to his tone. She stared at him in disbelief. A compliment...was that almost a compliment?

"I brought you a mouth wash. Not a Muggle mouthwash, this potion will actually clean your teeth while strengthening them," he said, handing her a bottle with a small cup over the stopper. "You are to use this for a week...and only for a week. The restoration can sometimes dull your teeth; however, I added something to help whiten them. Do not drink tea or pumpkin juice for the week you use this and the week after, only water. I recall that you normally use a toothbrush and paste?"

"Yes, sir," she replied, holding the bottle with both hands.

"Don't," he said firmly. "Your teeth need to set. Brushing and flossing could make them move. No solid foods for a week. You'll be given porridge for breakfast and special soups and stews for lunch and dinner that you can easily swallow."

Great! I'm causing more work for Hogwarts' slave labor. "Thank you, sir."

He pulled two books from his pocket. "My lecture this week was taken from these two sources. If you read them, you should not fall behind in class. When you are released, you will spend one night a week catching up on the potions you will have missed. These evenings will not, however, be recorded as detentions."

She looked up at him, then at the books and back to his face. "Thank you, sir," she said as she took the books.

He nodded once. "Good night, Miss Granger."

"Good night, sir. And thank you for these and my mouth wash."

He simply inclined his head, turned and walked away.

Severus mulled over the conversation he'd had in the Headmaster's office and wanted to throw something flammable into the fire.

"Dragons? Get an egg away from a nesting female dragon. Have you completely lost your mind?" Severus scoffed at Dumbledore. "You cannot allow dragons on the school grounds; they are dangerous! And once the word gets around that they are here, the students' curiosity could put them at risk."

"A little boy that seems to get into every conceivable kind of mischief that he possibly can," Severus sneered, furious that he'd have to find a way to ensure Potter's survival or suffer from that damnable vow. "And how exactly is Miss Granger going to help him prepare for dealing with a fully grown dragon...a nesting female at that?"

"Oh, I can do that, Albus," Moody replied with a crooked, half-smile...smirk that morphed his scarred face grotesquely and a glint in his eye that gave Severus pause.

That smile still gave Severus the creeps. He'd seen that smile thirteen years ago when Moody had cornered him that November night when Severus had sought out Dumbledore the second time. The night he'd made that thrice damned vow.

Severus stormed into his office and over to his shelves, searching through the contents for anything to aid Potter against a dragon. Finding nothing, he turned to the storeroom, however, even his private stores turned up nothing practical. He mulled over the possibilities as he searched each shelf. A few poisons were strong enough to incapacitate a dragon if it was given in a large enough dose, but he didn't have any on hand. He could make a Neuromuscular-Paralyzing Potion or the Oropharynx-Asphyxia Potion, even a strong enough variation of the Draught of Living Death... but in order for them to be effective, Potter would have to administer the potions to the dragon.

So unless the dragon was sleeping, which would be highly unlikely, or was going to eat something drenched in...? Bugger! The judges would have to believe that Potter had brewed them... No. I don't have anything the boy could use, except the Felix Felicis concoction, he thought as he picked up the vial and then set it back with a snort. Which is illegal to use in competitions and its use would be discovered.

He scowled. There was nothing practical to give to Potter. Even the Fire-Protection Potion was of no use against fiery dragon's breath and a Strengthening Solution was impractical unless Severus knew how Potter planned to do the task.

Severus scoffed at the train of thought. Strength...Potter! Ha! Potter will not tackle or wrestle the dragon nor face it with a sword and shield. He turned heel and strode to his rooms to search his personal library.

He looked around, scanning his books, one after another, and found nothing that Potter could use...well, nothing within his range of abilities that was of any use against a fully mature female dragon. Potter was a mediocre fourth-year at best. There were some spells and some Dark Arts that could be used against a dragon by a powerful wizard, such as himself or Dumbledore, but they were way beyond Potter's abilities. Severus snapped the book in his hands closed and put it back.

After several hours, he poured himself a generous amount of elfin-made Barbados rum. He sat on his sofa, staring into the fire, trying to fathom a way around this problem. Dragons. Take an egg away... They are truly mad! He was worried for Potter, but only because of his feeling of responsibility to help keep the boy alive...his vow to Dumbledore. "How am I supposed to keep that idiot boy alive if he has to face dragons?!" he snarled. It takes at least seven to a dozen trained dragon keepers to control an angry nesting dragon. How is this boy going to accomplish this task? He pinched the bridge of his nose and closed his eyes.

Miss Granger. Of course. He would search all the books in the Restricted Section if he had to, to find some way for that idiot boy to survive this task. But when I do find something, how am I to give it to her? A house-elf...they are obliged to tell the Headmaster the truth, and I can't simply hand it to her. He sighed, mentally kicking himself at the only logical choice. A detention, naturally. I'll further sully her academic record for my own purposes. Oh, bullocks, if she helps keep the boy alive throughout this tournament, I'll give her bloody bonus points on her exams, he mentally snarled as he downed his drink and rose to go to the library.

"So! All I'll have to do is put on my Dad's cloak and make my way to the nest," Harry said enthusiastically. "The dragon won't even see me."

Hermione cringed. "I dunno, Harry, that seems far too easy. I mean, if all you had to do was be invisible then this task wouldn't be such a challenge."

"It's the best answer..." he started to say but trailed off as the corridor became crowded.

"Harry, dragon poaching is practically unheard of because they are so dangerous. I'm certain that if all you had to do was be invisible..." She stopped when Harry grabbed her arm as a door to a classroom opened and students began to swarm into the corridor. "I just think it might be too risky."

"But we've used it before. It's a really good invisibility cloak," Harry stated, clearly having made up his mind.

Hermione saw Ron stop ahead of them to tie his trainer and turned to Harry, hoping to encourage him to talk to Ron, but Harry had turned down another corridor, leaving her alone. Sighing, she opted to follow him instead of going to the common room. She'd only taken a few steps when a hand clamped down on her shoulder to stop her. She whirled around to face her attacker and found herself confronted by Professor Snape.

"A moment, Miss Granger," Professor Snape said softly, drawing her forcibly aside. "Being invisible won't help Mr. Potter. Dragons can sense wizards under the Disillusionment Charm because they can sense the magical signature with their tongues," he said so softly she barely heard him. He turned abruptly before she could say anything, his robes swishing across her legs, and walked away.

Hermione watched him leave, his robes billowing behind him as the students parted to let him pass, stunned by his revelation. She quickly turned to go find Harry, hoping he'd believe her and wondering how she'd convince him of this information without mentioning that it had come from Professor Snape.

Hermione was concerned. Neville hadn't shown up for Herbology, and today they had been dividing bubotubers, something he'd been looking forward to doing all week, although Hermione was hard pressed to see the appeal. The potting mix was more moist dung and brackish muck than soil in her opinion. And they had to use Face-Shielding Charms in case the pustules burst. Ron had been working with Seamus and Dean lately, and Neville had promised to help her and Harry...except he didn't show. Harry was little help these days; he was so completely distracted by the dragon challenge that he wasn't concentrating on anything else, so most of the work had all fallen to her.

"So why did Neville miss Herbology? It's his best subject," Harry asked as they exited greenhouse three at the end of class.

Seamus turned to look at them. "Malfoy hit him with the Conjunctivitis Hex just before class, and it made his eyes swell and look all wonky. He couldn't see a thing! He had to go to hospital to see Madam Pomfrey," he said and ran off to catch up to Ron and Dean.

Harry leaned close to Hermione and whispered, "That would be a good idea," in her ear.

"I dunno, Harry, it might be a horrible risk. An angry, temporarily blind, female dragon thrashing about, trying to defend her nest? You might get stomped on," she replied, cringing at the thought. She saw Professor Snape approach them, apparently heading to the greenhouses.

"But if she can't see me, she can't eat me either," he argued hopefully. "I'm quick. I dodge Dudley all the time."

She pulled Harry aside, watching several Hufflepuffs sneer and smirk at Harry as they passed. "A dragon is a bit more dangerous than your cousin, and Dudley doesn't spit dragon fire," she argued. "Besides, do you even know the Conjunctivitis Hex?"

Harry shrugged, one hand keeping his bag from sliding down his shoulder. "How hard could it be if Malfoy used it on Neville?"

She shot him an incredulous glare. "Malfoy uses all manners of hexes, curses, and jinxes; that doesn't make them right. Besides, I don't think blinding the dragon is a good idea. You still have to get around her. She can smell your magic on her tongue, remember?"

However, Harry didn't seem to see it her way. "I bet we can find the hex in the library, and you can help me learn it."

"What, by letting you hex my eyes?" she asked, gobsmacked. "No way!"

He curled his mouth in disappointment and scuffed his shoe. "It was only a thought. We can use a rat then," he suggested before walking off.

Hermione smacked his arm.

"Ouch!" he said, rubbing the spot she'd hit him. "Okay, no rat. I'll use Crabbe or Goyle." She glared at him and he shrugged. "That seems only fair!"

The next morning after Professor Snape finished his lecture on tropane poisoning, he turned to face the class. "So, Mr. Potter, name six plants that contain tropane alkaloids, and do not read to me from Miss Granger's notes."

Hermione, who'd angled her notes in Harry's direction, scowled at him and slid her notebook back in front of her. Harry had been circling the incantation for the Conjunctivitis Hex on his notes.

"Angel's trumpet, henbane... Devil's weed...trumpet, er, mandrakes..." He turned his head to look at Ron. "Deadly nightshade and thorn apples, I think."

Ron glared at Harry.

"You think? Five points from Gryffindor, Mr. Potter, for the inability to think. Mr. Longbottom, which plants did Mr. Potter fail to mention?" Professor Snape asked while still watching Harry intently.

"The datura species of: Devil's weed, Devil's trumpet, Devil's cucumber, Hell's bells..." Professor Snape's head snapped in Neville's direction and Neville blanched. "P-prickly b-bur, Jimson w-weed, moon-moonflower, and the p-potato, and tomato..."

"Enough," Professor Snape snapped, "five points to Gryffindor, Mr. Longbottom. You will all write six feet on tropane poisoning and the plants Messrs. Longbottom and Potter mentioned, due next week." He turned and sat down at his desk. "Miss Granger, see me after class," he snapped as he grabbed his quill. "The rest of you are dismissed."

Hermione collected her things and waited patiently as the rest of the class filed out.

"Well, come here," Professor Snape said curtly.

She sighed and approached his desk.

"Even if Potter could improve his aim and manage to hit a dragon in the eye with the Conjunctivitis Hex, it would only make the dragon dangerous and quite angry...and blind. However, she, like most reptiles, could still locate him with her sense of smell. Also she might step on Potter or crush her eggs. Discourage him. Likewise, using an Immobulus or the Impediment Curse, which Mr. Potter hasn't developed the skill to utilize at this age level, is only effective against class four creatures, not class five. It takes at least six to eight fully trained wizards to immobilize a fully-grown dragon. I would have thought you'd be aware of the fact."

Hermione's mouth opened in surprise. She was too dumbfounded that Professor Snape somehow knew that Harry had even considered using the hex for her mind to register his disparaging remark about Harry's magical ability and her lack of knowledge. "How did you know we were..." she started to say and was cut off by his smirk. "You overheard us."

"Apparently I did," he replied and resumed his marking.

This was the second time he'd said something to help Harry. "Thank you, sir; I'll let Harry know."

"That is all; you may leave," he said without looking up. Hermione thanked him again and hurried out of his classroom on her way to find Harry.

Hermione tapped Harry's parchment to get his attention. "It's just Viktor Krum and his gaggle of followers. Ignore them." She'd been so worried for him, having to deal with the lies that Rita Skeeter wrote about him, how no one believed that he hadn't entered the tournament, and she felt sorry about the sneers and taunting he had to endure. However, after what Sirius had said about Karkaroff having been a Death Eater, and Hagrid telling Harry about the dragons, she was seriously worried. She saw Ron sitting across the room with Seamus, Dean, and Neville.

"At least they don't wear the badges," Harry said despondently.

She looked up, and Viktor nodded at her, then scowled as he skulked away. "You'd think they would have books on his boat," Harry scoffed, pushing his hair up with his fingers as he leaned his head on his hand.

She knew he was missing Ron, but neither would end this ridiculousness. "We'll find an answer, Harry," she said, exchanging books for one from her third pile.

"How?" he asked softly. "It's not likely I'll find a passage, 'here is how you steal an egg from a dragon.'"

"No, but something will come to us; we have to keep looking," she replied, wondering if an Exfoliating-Scarfskin Hex would work on dragon scales. A Descaling Charm worked to scale a fish? But that would injure the dragon, wouldn't it? They had used the spell to scale herrings, one of the rare few times Professor Snape allowed them use their wands in class.

Professor Snape had leaned over her shoulder in class, commenting on her grinding technique on the cochineal insects that he'd taught her during her stay in his classroom lab, then whispered, "Make the Burn Paste I taught you. Use a coffee filter to sieve off the comfrey preparation, and use the dragonwort after the comfrey oil. Double the calendula."

She turned her head to say thank you, but he was already examining Neville's potion. Neville was already so nervous he dropped his cochineal insects all over his worktable. Hermione measured out her two grams and passed the dish to Neville. "Here, I have extra, Neville," she said softly, giving Professor Snape a look that challenged him to deduct points from her. "I know Professor Snape hadn't intended to startle you."

"Th-thanks, Hermione," Neville stammered, keeping his head down so he didn't have to see Professor Snape glare at them, thus missing his subtle nod, even though he was openly scowling at her.

However, later when changing for bed, she found a slip of parchment in her pocket, which read: The Renaissance of Essential Potions and Elixirs by Carnis Waite: Strengthening Solution, page sixty-two. A stronger Whit-Sharpening Elixir, page nineteen. Fire Protection Potion will not help.

"Didn't the autobiography on Tilly Toke or the book on Quong Po offer anything?" she asked, hoping that whatever they found, Harry wouldn't need the potion hidden in her trunk. She didn't want him getting disqualified by using a potion restricted by the Department of Magical Games and Sports. "I haven't seen anything that would help you. You don't have a magical sword and shield or a dragon staff. Not that having one would help you; it takes years to learn how to fight with them."

"Maybe I'll ask Dumbledore for Gryffindor's sword," he mumbled dejectedly.

"You can ask, but I don't' think you'll be allowed to kill the dragon. We'll find something," she reassured him, hoping she sounded more optimistic than she felt. He and Ron still weren't speaking to each other, and it was really grating on her nerves. It had been unnerving going to Hogsmeade with Harry, considering he'd worn his dad's cloak. At least Hagrid and Professor Moody had joined them in the Three Broomsticks. Hermione had been amazed that Professor Moody could see Harry, but then that magical eye was an amazing device.

She pulled Physical Shapeshifting Through Transformation, by Phaedrus Goldschlager, toward her, scanning the first few twenty pages on shape-shifting and Animagus transformations. She was soon engrossed, reading the chapter on Merlin's ability to shift from human to a deer, wolf, or owl.

Hermione waited until she would be the last to turn in her potion sample. She approached Professor Snape's desk, feeling like a hundred pixies were in her gut. She set the bottle down and took a deep breath. "Sir, may I ask you something?"

"Not now, Miss Granger, I'm busy," he said curtly as he checked her name off on his ledger. He picked up a sample, noted the name on the vial and made another mark.

"It will only take a minute," she implored, hoping that he'd not get too mad at her persistence. He had helped her, giving her advice on their other ideas. Maybe he'd help her again.

He looked up at her, clearly annoyed. "What is it?"

"I have a question about Summoning Charms," she began.

"You should ask Professor Flitwick about that," he cut her off dismissively.

"He didn't give me books and advice," she said quickly. She fought back the nervous fear swelling in her gut. "Please, sir, I know you could tell me what I need to know."

He sat up and crossed his arms. "Very well, what is it?"

"How close does an object need to be when you use a Summoning Charm?" She turned her head slightly. That wasn't what she needed to know at all. "What I mean is, what if the object is far away? I've checked, and there isn't anything in the books about summoning things from a far distance."

"Really, you could rationalize this out for yourself." He watched her a moment, then sighed when she shifted her weight nervously. "It depends on the item, where it is, and what might be blocking it from coming to you," he stated smoothly. "Be specific."

She decided to be straight with him. After all, he wasn't being too mean at present. "Harry's broom. I don't know where they are going to have the dragons, but if say they use the Quidditch pitch... Would Harry be able to summon his broom to the Quidditch pitch?"

For a brief moment it almost looked liked he'd smiled, the same smile he'd given her after she'd gotten something right that he'd shown her when he'd been a teenager. However, the stern face of her professor returned just as quickly. "If Mr. Potter becomes accomplished with the charm, yes, he might be able to summon his broom to the enclosure. However, he will have to have significant determination and precise focus on what he wants. Also the item in question should be accessible. If the broom has to fly through a door or window it may be blocked and might not break free to come to him."

Hermione smiled and clasped her hands. "Perfect! Thank you. I was hoping..." Her relief was making her babble, until he narrowed his eyes at her, cutting her off. "Thank you, sir. That is very helpful." She turned and ran, wanting to give Harry the good news.

That Friday in Potions there was a scrap of parchment stuck to the bottom of her essay. When she picked it up, words appeared: Quickening-Reflexes Potion...a blue-stoppered, red phial, my storeroom, third shelf on the left, behind the dried muddaubers next to the phial of Draught of Peace and a large jar of Burn Paste.

Harry wouldn't need the Quickening-Reflexes Potion if he could out fly the dragon on his Firebolt! That was if he could out fly the dragon. It was such a gamble on Harry's part but the only solution that seemed feasible. She decided to take the offered gift anyway, just in case. Professor Snape just gave me permission to, didn't he? She looked up at him, but he had his back to her as he waved his hand to make the directions appear on the board. She didn't catch his eye as he sat down at his desk, ordering them to begin. Okay, then... She looked at the door to the supply cupboard. I'll do it. For Harry.

~ T. B. C. ~

Author's Notes:

Yes, I changed a few things regarding the events and dialogue that took place in the corridor outside Potions when Malfoy hexed Hermione's teeth. An asterisk denotes what is a direct quote or copied from the book. I wanted to give this scene a bit more insight since this is a canon Severus and Hermione moment.