Chapter 37

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. Once again, what events that are not mentioned that happen in the books is as it happened in the books.

I want to give a great big thank you hug to my alpha reader, Arabellabloodgood, Proulxes for the bit of Brit-picking, and to DuchessOfArcadia for combing through this and helping me clean up my many mistakes. I really appreciate it more than you can possibly know.

Thank you, Jay, for the beautiful banner. I absolutely love it!

Severus watched the boys fumble about Hermione, trying to gain her attention, but she was concentrating on maintaining her control while casting the Leg-Locker Hex at Mr. Thomas. So far their bumbling had cost their house thirty-five points, and if they continued, their inattention would cost them a lot more.

He turned to watch Hermione as she faced off with Mr. Thomas. After all the time Hermione spent sparring with Severus in her fifth and sixth years, Hermione hardly transmitted her intent anymore when she cast her spells; her movements were quick, fluid and without hesitation. Something Severus was quite proud of, actually, but that was also potentially dangerous to the student she was paired up with in class. Mr. Thomas, unfortunately, was not paying attention to what Hermione was about to do as he should have been because the boy jerked his wand suddenly and shouted, "Protego," barely able to block her curse in time. Hermione flushed, quickly apologizing.

"Ten points for shouting, Mr. Thomas," Severus said, scowling at the boy's expression, "and five more for ineptitude." He wanted to admonish the boy for staring at Hermione's chest and not paying attention as he should, but refrained since he didn't want to embarrass her. He would have preferred pairing Hermione up with one of the girls, but none of them were strong enough or skilled enough to defend themselves against her. The only boy not staring at Hermione as if besotted with excessive sexual desire seemed to be Potter. "Everyone, those of you casting will now shield yourselves and vice versa."

Severus had paired Hermione up with Mr. Thomas because Longbottom was even more of a maladroit than normal around the girl and kept flushing each time the girl spoke to him. The idiot had pulled out her chair and tripped over his own feet to pick up the piece of parchment she'd dropped at the start of class. This, for some irrational reason, had irritated Severus profoundly, more so when the boy knocked over his chair to get up to help Hermione rise for the dueling part of the lesson. Not that Severus desired the girl, and he knew she was experiencing the Bloom, but he did not like the way the boys were staring at her or all their inane fawning over her.

As he moved about the room, Severus stopped next to Mr. Potter, since the boy wonder and his side kick, Mr. Weasley, were both watching Hermione instead of practicing their spellwork. "Is there a problem, Mr. Weasley?" he asked, his voice dangerously low.

"Er, no, sir," Mr. Weasley stammered, finally turning around to face Potter and himself. "I was..."

"Watching Miss Granger. Perhaps, you'd like to spar with me?" Severus said with a sneer.

Weasley shook his head.

"No? Well, then maybe you should be practicing with Mr. Potter," Severus said coolly, adding, "instead of ogling your friend," in a low sneer so only the two boys heard him. "Now, get to work," he admonished them louder, deducting five more house points each from them.

He turned his back to the annoying pair and saw Mr. Thomas make a half-hearted attempt at hexing Hermione, which she defended against easily, although her shield was much too strong. Severus crossed his arms, watching with growing irritation as Mr. Thomas made one weak attempt at hexing her after another. "Mr. Thomas, I expect you to actually try and hex Miss Granger so she can attempt to block it," he snapped to cover his ire. "Ten points from Gryffindor for lack of effort."

He turned, glaring at Mr. Finnigan and Mr. Longbottom. Both boys were watching Hermione intently. "Get to work," he admonished them. "Five points each from Gryffindor." At this rate Gryffindor would suffer a severe loss, making them the lowest in house points.

He moved to stand behind Miss Granger to watch her as she defended herself, and now him, from Mr. Thomas' Leg-Locker Jinx. Her stance was perfect for fighting: arm relaxed, feet set firmly with her body weight even on both feet. Her arm moved fluidly, her wand making a perfect arc as her foot moved slightly, her body perfectly positioned, ready to brace herself against the impact of the hex Mr. Thomas cast. As usual, Miss Granger's shield was an impressive barrier that would not only protect her but everyone behind her as well. He inhaled deeply as the spell rebounded off her Shield Charm, catching the scent of lemon verbena and lavender. Mr. Thomas' next hex was barely strong enough to make her shield vibrate.

"Mr. Thomas, either cast a proper hex or get out of my classroom. If you're not going to put any effort behind your spells you're wasting Miss Granger's time as well as my own," he said curtly. "Ten points from Gryffindor."

Hermione stiffened, turning to look him in the eye, questioningly. Their gazes locked, her doe-like eyes looking at him, searching his eyes for...What? A hidden ulterior intention behind his words? Trying to read some cryptic meaning in his actions? Her unguarded, unspoken inquiry triggered memories of the friendship that had developed between them in his youth, during those few stolen weeks when he had hidden and protected her at school.

Ruthlessly, he disciplined his emotions. It didn't matter. He would not cave. He was her teacher, and she was his student and that was all there was. That was all there could be. That friendship was in his past.

"Miss Granger, my office seven o'clock. Do not be late."

"Of course, Professor," she replied, her expression softening as if his admonishment was a privilege not a reprimand.

He turned and scolded himself for his idiocy. He shouldn't be alone with her. She was Blooming. He snapped at Miss Brown and Miss Patil, "Nonverbally means, no mumbling, no lips moving and no whispering – five points deduction each," and turned to watch his least favorite students, Weasley and Potter, grinding his teeth.

During the break in lessons, Minerva finally got around to her list of students under her care who would reach the age of maturity during the school year. She had written out the lists for the Heads of Houses prior to the start of term, but with everything going on the previous summer, Albus' frequent absences, she'd been remiss in handing them out. Even Pomona had inquired about her list of Hufflepuffs at dinner last night, and this morning, Filius had been much too relieved when she'd handed them out at breakfast. Even Severus had commented. And she couldn't put off scheduling her meetings with her charges any longer.

She personally preferred to have these little meetings in private, and always at least two months prior to the student's seventeenth birthday. Well, except for the students who had their birthdays in September or October...those she did right away. For one, it was easier, less embarrassing for the young witch or wizard if they were one-on-one, and secondly, she could help them if they were struggling with the Surge. She unfolded the parchment. Okay. The Boys. This year there were three sixth-years turning of age during the school year:

Mr. Thomas – 21 November

Mr. Weasley – 1 March

Mr. Finnigan – 19 May

Mr. Longbottom and Mr. Potter would come of age next July. Augusta Longbottom is more than capable of assisting Mr. Longbottom when his Surges start next summer. Arrangements will have to be made to assist Mr. Potter, but then, he lives in a Muggle home...

She paused. That didn't seem to make much difference as of late, something invariably happened to the boy. He is wanted by every Death Eater and personally targeted by He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named, and has so far had the worst experiences. That Dementor alone last year. Minerva frowned. It was lucky the boy didn't have any incidents this summer, considering what happened in the Ministry. It might be possible to keep the boy from doing too much magic next summer...and the Surge manifests most often under stressful situations... She would have to talk to Albus and the Order members about this. Maybe they could move Potter to the Burrow in June. Molly was more than capable of handling the boy's Coming of Age issues.

Now, the girls. There were four sixth-years turning of age:

Miss Granger – 19 September...Oh good holy Mother of Merlin!

She checked her calendar. Two weeks had passed. Two! Minerva gasped. And the girl, if she is an early Bloomer, may have been radiating for three perhaps five days now! The Bloom generally manifested slowly, lasting about seven days on average for most girls, but those with exceptional talent like Miss Granger, it could last for up to ten days...or much longer if she was a long Bloomer.

Minerva wondered if Molly had spoken to Miss Granger over the summer. Last summer! How could I have forgotten? I should have paid Miss Granger a visit personally!

The Surges were a normal part of coming of age that every magical child went through, only it was normal for wizarding families to have the talk well before a young witch or wizard came of age. While it did start one or two months before the child turned seventeen, the onset was gradual, slowly building up, and most magical children usually didn't have any need to draw on their magical surge. Unless the child was in a situation of stress or perceived danger...such as Hermione had faced in France.

Minerva sighed. Miss Granger was friends with Mr. Potter, and subsequently, knew that she'd be fighting in a war come the end of her school years. In fact, try as the professors all did, Mr. Potter and his friends had a horrible habit of being drawn into situations that they shouldn't, putting themselves in danger time and time again.

Muggle-borns, since how the magical world worked was so new to them, became the concern of their Heads of House to guide them though this period, something Minerva took quite seriously. But with all the concerns regarding the children in Dumbledore's Army and their families over the summer (which had fallen on her and Arthur to organize) Miss Granger's Coming of Age had slipped her notice. Then there was Albus' ailment and his frequent absences from school, which meant Minerva had been fielding quite a bit of the Order's business and the extra security measures of both the Order and in the school, as well as the frequent inquiries from the school governors and Ministry of Magic, plus all the letters from concerned parents...including the threats to withdraw their children and the course curriculum approvals and supply requests...she'd been so busy, she'd overlooked one of her star pupils.

I should have spoken to Molly last June or examined the girl the first day of school myself. She'd have to have the meeting with Miss Granger first thing. Professor Snape had mentioned something about Miss Granger surging in his class, she recalled, and Minerva berated herself for not recognizing the signs. But then, Severus' lessons are much more aggressive in nature than mine or Filius'. Still, she should have noticed if the girl was drawing on her surges. She was a Head of House after all, and she'd been teaching for well over fifty years!

Minerva looked at her list again.

Zoe Thornton-Reid – 26 Sept

She wasn't too late for her, thankfully, and although her mother was a Muggle-born, her father came from a magical family so it was likely she'd had the talk. Hopefully.

The other girls' dates were well in the future:

Miss Brown – 7 November

Miss Patil – 24 May

And the last entry was for Patricia Burtrand, whose birthday was noted as: 14 August. She was from a pure-blood family, and her grandmother was from a very old magical lineage.

Professor McGonagall penned a note to ask Hermione to come to her office after dinner and summoned a house-elf.

"Please see that this is delivered to Miss Hermione Granger immediately."

The house-elf looked none too pleased with the request, not at all surprising considering the disastrous problem during Miss Granger's fourth year when she was discovered to be the one leaving knitted objects stashed around her common room for the house-elves. They still hadn't forgiven her. "If you would, simply have it appear by her plate at lunch."

There, that appeased the elf, somewhat. Might as well have Zoe Thornton-Reid as well. She is due to start Blooming early next week and is most likely feeling the Surge as well. Although, there was little indication in her lessons to suggest that Miss Thornton-Reid wasn't controlling her magical surges. She glanced at her calender, pursing her lips at the lack of available time on her schedule. Might as well see both girls tonight. "And one more, Miss Zoe Thornton-Reid," she said, quickly penning another note.

Hermione wasn't sure, but the guys seemed to be checking out her bum as she bent over to get potion ingredients off the lower shelves of the school cabinet. She even caught Draco checking her out, but he of course covered it over by making one of his usual demeaning, yet old, remarks. Back at her work station, she set out the ingredients for her and Ernie, and he stammered his thanks while staring at her oddly and almost knocked over the Yucca extract.

She mentally shrugged it off as hormones. The boys in her year were sixteen now, and her mother had said last summer that the older the boys got, the more they'd ogle and flirt to try to get the girls to have sex with them. Hermione had seen plenty of incidents of that already, usually toward the pretty girls. Just that morning, on their way to Ancient Runes lesson, Zabini, Crabbe and Goyle were harassing two Ravenclaw girls, Sophie Waithright and Marian Merrek, on the stairs with sexual innuendos and rude comments, but then Sophie and Marian were very pretty girls, in Hermione's opinion, and the boys always had noticed them.

She looked up at the directions on the board; they matched the book, with only one difference, Slughorn had written: add two to three grams of shredded witch hazel leaf, stirring twelve times clockwise, and let simmer for about five minutes... Hermione checked her book and read her annotations: the ones she'd filled in from all the notes she'd copied from teen Severus' book and the changes he had told her about when they'd brewed together. Yes, here it is... add one counter stir...all right... Below that read, add the buckhorn before the lavender oil. She tapped the page smiling. I'm going to win this one.

Halfway through the lesson, after stirring in the vermilion powder twenty-nine times, adding one counter clockwise stir to stop the whirlpool effect, she checked her directions. Add one-half diced white onion before the sliced witch hazel... She smiled, remembering Severus telling her, use the skin; it will thicken the potion, but enhance the witch hazel. Hermione cut her onion in half and set the other half aside for Ernie. She wet her onion with ice cold water to hinder the release of the propanethiol S-oxide from the amino acid sulfoxides in the onion, so it wouldn't make her cry, and cut her onion, rolling the blade of her knife as teenage Severus had shown her.

She glanced up and saw Harry do the counter clockwise stir with a start. How did he?, she stammered to herself. However, she was certain that he hadn't added his onion skin. Her potion was a thick tangerine color, not a clear yellow as shown in the book. But by the time she added the lavender oil after the buckhorn, the potion would be just the right shade; a little thicker, but not as bitter to swallow and more effective because the lavender oil would soften the buckhorn and change its property.

She made furtive glances at Harry, waiting to see if he added the lavender oil before or after... and scowled as he added the buckhorn first...directly opposite from the directions in the book. That's impossible! First the onion before the witch hazle and now the buckhorn before the lavender...?

Of course, as Professor Slughorn moved about the room, checking on each student's progress, he stopped right beside Harry, extolling loudly what a superb job Harry was doing. It made Hermione grind her teeth in annoyance that their professor merely glanced at hers, muttering quietly, "Well done, Miss Granger. But what else would I expect from my other top student, eh?" "Bottle up your potions and put it on my desk," he announced to the class. Unlike Professor Snape, Slughorn wanted all of their potion, especially if it came out right.

"Don't worry, Hermione," Ernie said with a soppy, apologetic smile. "You'll still get full marks."

"But how did he know about the buckhorn?" she asked so softly that Ernie asked her, "Uh?"

"Nothing," she replied, wondering how Harry knew to switch the ingredients. She bottled her potion, cleaned up her work area and waited for Harry to finish cleaning up.

Once out in the corridor, she pulled Harry aside. "I'm not accusing you, but I have to ask...the onion before the witch hazel...how did you know? Was it in your book?"

He started to bristle. "Look, Hermione, lay off..."

"No, wait, it's just that...Harry, if you didn't use the skin, it can make the potion unstable," she said, and his eyes narrowed at her. "And using the buckhorn before the lavender oil is really tricky if you don't know to use the right spoon...which you did."

"How did you know that?"

"Really, Harry?" Ron interjected. "She read it, of course."

"It's just that you keep doing the variations I am, and I'm just curious who had the book before you. I think..." She paused. She couldn't tell him she'd learned it from Severus...he'd ask how... or why he'd told her... or when... not to mention Harry hated Severus... "It may be one of the Potioneers that I read about in the Potion journals." There, that seemed innocent enough.

Harry regarded her skeptically, his eyes narrowing. "I don't think so," he said, suspiciously.

"How can you be sure?" she asked, knowing Harry rarely read the periodicals and journals.

"Because the only name in the book is the Half-Blood Prince."

The Half-Blood Prince? Hermione was stunned. She could not think of one wizarding family named Prince or a Potioneer named Prince... Prince?

"So that solves it," Ron said, clapping his hands together once. "Let's go toss the Quaffle, Harry. I could use some practice..."

"Before you start on your Herbology and Transfiguration essays due tomorrow," she pointedly reminded them, still trying to recall a Potion brewer named Prince. Or a Healer, that is a possibility...they study Potions.

"Right," Ron grumbled, and even Harry looked displeased. "So, I suppose that if we go play Quidditch instead of starting our essay..."

"Starting?" Hermione gasped in stunned disbelief.

"...you won't help us," he finished.

Hermione exhaled slowly as she regarded him sternly.

"Right," Ron said dejectedly. "The library it is then."

Severus hated these meetings; however, the Department of Education and the school governors insisted that they occur, but it was one of his least liked duties as Head of House. It rated just below dealing with puberty related crises: wet dreams, female menses, bedwetting, homesickness and, heaven forbid, pregnancy. Homesickness: his prefects handled that one, just as the male prefects handled wet dreams and bedwetting (and summoned house-elves to clean up the mess). Female menses: the female prefects had a supply of the 'necessities' for the girls to use, and then the girls simply went to see Madam Pomfrey or wrote a discrete letter to mum, or whatever female family member they confided in.

At least the boys' talk about the Surges, the Bloom, and the Coming of Age changes wasn't as bad, well, only slightly less painful than the one he had to have with the girls of his House.

His way of handling the problem was simple. Usually, Minerva provided Severus with a list before the start of term with the birthdates of each boy and girl in his house who would be turning seventeen that year, one of her duties as the Deputy Headmistress and thus Keeper of the School Registry. However, she was quite late in providing him the list this year, possibly due to Dumbledore's incapacitation with his cursed hand and his frequent disappearances as of late, making her have to shoulder more of the responsibilities in school operations and the letters from concerned parents wanting reassurance for their child's safety. Regardless, it'd made him put off the talk for two whole weeks, something he'd preferred to get over with as soon as possible.

Normally, he arranged two meetings in his classroom the first Saturday of the year: first with the boys turning seventeen that year and the male sixth- and seventh-year prefects as well; the second one was with all the females coming of age and the female sixth- and seventh-year prefects. That way he only had to cover the subject of the Coming of Age changes twice, rather than dragging it out like Minerva or Pomona liked to do. They invited each individual student Coming of Age into their offices for tea. And then there was Flitwick with his charmed charts... Utter idiocy in Severus' book, and it allowed the student to feel free to ask questions. No, Severus hated dealing with any questions related to puberty, the Surges, the Bloom or the Coming of Age. Severus' way was straightforward and to the point.

However, here it was two weeks into the term, and he'd only received his list that morning. Severus had sent notices to the students on his list at lunch, the boys to meet with him immediately after dinner, the girls to arrive fifteen minutes later. The young men on his list and his male prefects were presently filing in and taking a seat.

"Just take any seat, Mr. Malfoy. Mr. Boughton, up front by Mr. Urguhart." He picked up the St. Mungo's pamphlet on the male magical Coming of Age, Becoming A Young Adult Wizard and the Responsibilities and Wondrous Joys It Can Bring. Mr. Nott chose to sit next to Mr. Boughton and Mr. Urguhart, instead of Mr. Malfoy and Mr. Goyle. "Mr. Urguhart hand these out," Severus said, handing his seventh-year prefect the pile of pamphlets.

All right. Time for the talk. "With the exception of Mr. Boughton and Mr. Urguhart, you are here because you will be turning seventeen this year, which means in the magical world, as I assume you know, that you will become an adult and will finally come into your magical maturity. As you reach your age of maturity, there are several changes that occur. I assume that your father or some male representative of your family already told you about the Coming of Age transformation."

Every one of them nodded or mumbled their assent.

Good. "You've been told about the Surges?"

Again there was a general indication, mumblings, nodding and such that indicated that they already knew.

"If any of you have difficulty controlling your magic, see me or another professor. I do have a practice room set up here in the dungeons if you need guidance." As if any of them would admit to being incapable of controlling their magic at this age, he scoffed to himself.

There was a chuckle, several grunts, and Mr. Boughton swallowed as he looked at the wall behind Severus' head.

Severus nodded. Still, he'd have to be on the lookout for the typical signs as they neared their birthdays. "And you have been told about the Bloom and controlling your urges?"

Mr. Goyle blushed slightly, and Mr. Boughton turned his head, but they all indicated in some manner that they had been told about the Bloom.

"Good. If I ever find out that any one of you gets a girl pregnant while you are still at school, you will wish that you had been sorted into Hufflepuff," Severus said with a hard edge to his voice so none of them would mistake him. "Not to mention what your parents will do when I write to them that you got a witch pregnant out of wedlock." He smirked, watching Mr. Zabini become astonished while Mr. Goyle and Mr. Malfoy actually cringed and paled slightly at the thought; Mr. Nott swallowed and examined his hands clenched on his lap, and Mr. Crabbe lost all his bravado, suddenly looking dumbstruck. Mr. Boughton appeared horrorstruck at the thought. Good, enough said.

Next was the question he hated. "And you are aware that you will experience wet dreams during your change, for a week prior to or about the week after your seventeenth birthday."

Each boy nodded or mumbled his assent.

"Good," Severus said, not the least surprised. "When you have such incidents, summon a house-elf to change the bedding. Any questions?"

The boys only shook their heads or smirked at their neighbors.

"Settle down. Write your name on the last sheet of your pamphlets where it says your name. If you've just lied to me, your name will vanish, and you'll have to stay behind." Fat chance of that, they are all purebloods or from well established wizarding families. But the magic of the quill worked every time if the boy's family failed to explain things competently and the boy lied to hide his embarrassment. If that were the case, he'd have to have the boy back for a private meeting. It rarely happened, but there had been a few occasions in the past when it did.

His sixth-years each flipped to the last sheet, picked up the Blood Oath Quill and signed his name. "When you're done, and if your name appears on the page, you may go," Severus instructed, adding, "Leave the quills on the tables," just in case some tried to abscond with them.

As the boys all headed for the door, Severus swished his wand, making all the documents sail over neatly to his desk and the discarded pamphlets drop themselves in the waste bin. Done. Four minutes and thirty-five seconds. Girls next. Circe, he hated doing the female version of the talk. It took longer.

Minerva took another sip of her tea and set down her cup. Miss Granger and Miss Thornton-Reid had arrived that evening right after dinner and were sipping on a cup of Minerva's best green tips, a local blend that her friend had sent her as a gift, and each of them had two chocolate éclairs the house-elves had sent up. Minerva told them why she'd requested them, and immediately Miss Thornton-Reid had looked relieved. Miss Granger had simply flushed and nodded her head.

"This happens when a young witch reaches her maturity, which you both know is seventeen. The Bloom is a release of pheromones, creating what is commonly called a radiant glow, or to Radiate, that every male around her will instinctively notice, be attuned to...unconsciously...and is a period sometimes crudely called, being in heat, although I find that vernacular rude," Minerva said, her typical speech for young ladies. Both girls nodded slightly, apparently understanding things so far.

Minerva knew that in these modern times, Muggles were aware of pheromones, which made these talks easier. "This reaction to the release of your pheromones is also referred to as the Allure, the Drawing, or the Attraction, for obvious reasons, as those of the male sex will be drawn to you. They become attracted, attentive and quite solicitous towards you during this period, and some continue to be for weeks after your Bloom. Don't mistake this reaction for love, although those men who are still drawn to you even well after your Bloom can make very good marriage partners."

Miss Thornton-Reid smiled wistfully, and Miss Granger bit her lip, listening intently.

"In antiquity, and still observed by some magical cultures, the Bloom was the time when magical betrothals were made and marriage contracts agreed to, hence why many magical marriages and or unions occur when the young lady turns seventeen."

Miss Thornton-Reid straightened slightly, holding her cup delicately, and Miss Granger gave a small nod that she understood.

"Do keep in mind that during this time, one must be careful about advances and young men getting carried away. We don't want you girls getting into a sticky wicket."

Miss Thornton-Reid snickered softly, and Miss Granger narrowed her eyes slightly as she contemplated the warning.

Minerva pressed on. "Early Bloomers...those who Bloom prior to the week leading up to their seventeenth birthday...have traditionally been considered to be magically strong witches and were considered the more desirable matches in ancient times and in cultures that still practice arranged unions. There are Late Bloomers...those who go into bloom after their seventeenth birthday. Late Bloomers were considered to be weaker magically, although this is not always the case. I seldom see such a difference in the young women I teach. However, traditionally, special attention was made to determine the period and duration of the young witch's Bloom. Longer durations being thought the more promising." Minerva hated this part; many of the young ladies she had to talk to were late Bloomers, and thus took offence if she wasn't careful.

Miss Granger set down her tea cup, and her gaze wandered downward slightly, a sure sign that she was considering each statement carefully, probably categorizing it or memorizing it and possibly realizing that she was already Blooming. Minerva had been paying attention to the boys' interactions with Miss Granger and watched their expressions all day, and if Minerva read the boys reactions toward the girl correctly, she was definitely in her Bloom period.

Miss Thornton-Reid, on the other hand, looked slightly put out as if Minerva was insinuating that she would be a late Bloomer. Minerva smiled warmly at the girls, and she took a sip of her tea before continuing.

"However, occasionally, there have been Long Bloomers. Long Bloomers, generally begin their Bloom slowly, the onset happening a week or more prior to their seventeenth birthday and lasting for an additional week or so after their birth date. Rare, in that most believe that only those witches of exceptional magical strength and those of strong natural magical abilities exhibit this phenomenon. However, this is purely speculation, but it is generally more common with Muggle-borns. There is a theory that this is most likely to ensure that the young Muggle-born witch is able to gain the attention, and therefore the attraction, of an appropriate wizard for magical marriage. But again, I don't think there is enough proof that the theory is correct. Most females are unaware of the Bloom, as it's only physical manifestation is little more than a radiant glow, which could also be attributed to the happiness of coming of age. But the fact is that you will Radiate." She handed the girls each the Ministry approved pamphlet, saying the title casually, "Blooming Into Womanhood. Please read this thoroughly."

"Yes, but I already went through puberty," Hermione said, looking up from the pamphlet in her hand.

"This is not pubescence," Minerva stated kindly, "it's when your body and your magic blooms into your maturity. When you become a young adult witch."

"What's pubescence?" Miss Thornton-Reid asked.

"It starts when extra amounts of chemicals called hormones start to be produced in the body, which make your breasts develop, your hips swell, your pubic hairs grow," Miss Granger tried to explain, a flush growing on her cheeks.

"Oh, the changes that happen before the menses," Miss Thornton-Reid stated dismissively. "That's different; this is special!"

"Now, I suspect that you have both been having the Surges?" Minerva asked, trying not to look directly at Miss Granger.

Miss Thornton-Reid set down her cup and straightened. "Oh, yes, I have. But Mum told me about them, and I've been careful not to focus on my magic too much and rely on my intent and determination instead. Dad and I did exercises over the summer to help me prepare."

Minerva nodded. That was a typical, St. Mungo's approved, approach to avoid being addicted to the increase in power of the Surges. But it wasn't that easy for all students; Miss Granger was an example of that. Miss Thornton-Reid was not demonstrating the same magical strength that Miss Granger was. Not by far. For some, like Miss Granger, the Surges were quite strong, making their magical strength double...in her case, according to Severus, even triple. "Very well. Miss Granger?" She hated putting Miss Granger on the spot, but she needed to know.

"I've been working on controlling my magic so as not to harm anyone," the girl replied, blushing.

Minerva asked, quite well aware that Severus was working with her, "And how are the lessons coming along? Are you able to utilize your efforts all right?"

Miss Granger looked up, startled. "Yes, I think so. Sometimes in Defense I feel them more acutely than in Charms or your class, but I'm trying."

Minerva smiled again, reassuringly. "The good news is that you should be leveling by now, and your magic should find its equilibrium. By Wednesday, your magic should stabilize, and you shouldn't feel them anymore. By Thursday, you'll feel your usual self again."

The girl looked relieved. Minerva sincerely hoped she was right. Severus' lessons will most assuredly help the girl. Now for the more enjoyable part of the tea, asking the girls about boys.

The spell on the door told him the instant Hermione's hand touched his office door. He yanked open the door to his practice room to admit her and tried not to inhale as she passed by him. He might as well have told himself not to breathe. She still smelled like lemon verbena and lavender with an overshadowing of peppermint scent that lingered in the air about her, the flower scents subtle but discernible to someone who could tell a potion ingredient's potency by both sight and smell.

"I'm so sorry about the hour," she began to say as he closed the door.

She walked over to the shelves that lined one wall and set down her bag and drew her wand, anticipating to put in at least an hour's worth of hard work, although technically she was doing so much better at controlling her magic than he did at her age. He tried not to stare at her derriere when she bent over or her chest as she turned to face him.

"I'm so sorry I'm late," she apologized again. "Professor McGonagall wanted to talk with me about... well, about something, and it took a while longer than I thought it would."

"I am already aware," he said smoothly, having been informed by Minerva at dinner that she was having the talk with Hermione over pudding.

Even though Horace Slughorn, Severus' Head of House at the time, had given them the talk, Slughorn had naturally assumed that the sixth-year students of his house had already been told all the basics by their parents or legal guardians. Severus' mum had not. The summer previous to his sixth year, his father had been unemployed, so his mother had avoided speaking about anything related to magic. Her whispered comments to Severus in his room that summer had ill prepared him for anything except dealing with the Bloom, the wet dreams and night sweats. She'd been ill that Christmas, and Severus had remained at Hogwarts that year.

Thus Severus had drawn on his surges during his bouts against the Marauders in the months leading up to his seventeenth birthday, and subsequently after his 'magical puberty change into adulthood', he had become used to drawing on his core in stressful situations. It had landed him in the hospital, and he'd received a very stern talk from Madam Pomfrey. Not to mention a few hours with the Defense teacher, learning to control his magic in a duel. That was really what he'd been doing with Hermione these last few meetings and subsequently the previous year as well.

He took Hermione through the paces, having her practice the Freezing Charm, Impediment Jinx, Reductor Curse, Stunning Charm and Stinging Hex nonverbally on the target dummies, modulating her strength so that the indicator on the sparring dummy registered the level he'd asked her to do. He was pleased that she was finally able to control the level of strength of most of her spells, making the indicator register either in the greens or purples as he requested most of the time, although she had a hard time making it register blue. However, each failure to produce the requested color had her pursing her lips and clenching her jaw or stammering incoherently and blushing deeply in frustration, reactions he'd found amusing as a teen.

"Let me see your hand," he said when he had her stop. She held out her hand, looking up at him with those expressive brown eyes full of trust. It made his heart ache, but he shoved the emotion down, so he could focus on her magic.

He rubbed his thumb over the soft, pliable flesh of her palm, trying to feel for any latent vibration. Her skin was smooth under his thumb, warm... He inhaled, still holding onto her hand as he checked her eyes for signs of strain. Her gaze met and held his unwaveringly. He could feel his cheeks redden as she stared so frankly at him, and he suppressed the traitorous blush as he forced himself to concentrate on his task, trying to focus on the constriction and dilation of her pupils – not the tiny flecks of color in the amber brown irises, reminding himself that this was to protect her from her Surging magic. Not gazing into her eyes like a love starved Crup.

She shifted her feet, and he dropped her hand. "Very well," he said stiffly. "Let's see how you do against a few curses, shall we?"

She moved into position, and he smiled slightly at the prowess she exhibited. He cast both verbal and nonverbal spells at her, projecting his intention slightly with his nonverbal ones. Hermione moved with agility and grace, her wand movements fluid and quick with each of his assaults. Her nonverbal shields were strong and sure, not that he expected otherwise. Several times her magic flared, and she chastised herself silently each time. On a few occasions her shield was too strong, making a bright glow, but it was evident that her magic was finally starting to level off. He knew that her magic would be in the plateau phase by tomorrow, and by Wednesday her magic should find its equilibrium. She'd be an exceptionally strong witch.

He knew Hermione was in her Bloom, and being alone with her was a mistake he shouldn't be making. He maintained strict control over his own drawing attraction to the girl, forcibly reminding himself she was radiating so he wouldn't react. A constant inner struggle he was determined to overcome, to prevail.

Minerva, or any of the female staff, should have taken over his tutorial of the girl at least for the next few days, but he found he didn't want to relinquish the job over to just anyone. The girl needed to learn not only how control her magic, but to be able to defend herself. That was his job.

Thankfully, Minerva knew of their lessons and approved. That alone made him relieved and a bit satisfied. It showed that Minerva trusted him, even with her prized pupil.

He stopped to appraise Hermione for signs of strain, pleased that there was none. He let her hand drop and took two paces back from her, breathing deeply to clear his head, trying to ignore the warm scent of lemon verbena and lavender.

"Good, this time we'll duel. Use any defensive spell I've taught you and your shields. Begin."

Even though she was tired, Hermione forced herself to go up the stairs at her normal pace on her way back to her common room, only stopping on the fifth floor to catch her breath. Her body ached. Her limbs felt like she'd exercised for hours. She was sweaty, her hair felt damp, and she still felt hot, even in the cool stone corridors.

She looked down the empty corridor and thought, Why not? She could always transfigure her knickers into a swimsuit, even just by making the fabric thicker. Moreover, she knew drying and refreshing charms that she could use on her clothes. Plus, she'd only be saving herself a trip up the stairs and back for her nightly swim. It was hours before her curfew, but the O.W.L.-level students would all be in their dorms or revising in their common rooms. And if the pool was already occupied, she could still come back at her normal time...

Decision made, Hermione walked to the prefect bath. Besides, if she got too tired to finish the normal number of laps, she could reheat the water to a cozy bath temperature and have a long soak before bed...well, revision and then bed.

"Snickerdoodle," she said at the door and turned the latch. The room immediately illuminated as she opened the door wider and walked in. The mermaid turned, flicking her tail suggestively until she saw it was Hermione, then waved happily and went back to brushing her hair. Other than that, the room was unoccupied. Even Myrtle was blissfully absent. She kneeled down at the taps, choosing the herbal ones she liked and the ones that poured out only clear water.

Testing the temperature, she smiled and walked to the benches to undress. She used the Refreshing Charm on her clothes and laid them out neatly, then walked to the mirrors to look at herself in her bra and knickers. A few flicks of her wand and her knickers and bra were transformed into a reasonable swimsuit.

Hermione smiled as she turned, pleased to see the pool already filled. She flicked her wand to turn off the taps, placed her wand on her clothes and dove into the water. The cool water chilled her instantly until her body adjusted. She swam to the far end to begin her laps, already feeling reinvigorated.

~ T. B. .C. ~

Author's Notes:

Canon suggests that there are possibly two other girls in Hermione's dorm room, but they are not named nor do we know anything about them. JK Rowling promised that she would reveal their names in the Harry Potter Encyclopedia, but so far she hasn't identified them as far as I know.

The site http://harrypotter.wikia.com/wiki/Fay_Dunbar identifies one: Fay Dunbar (born c. 1979-1980) was a pure or half-blood witch who aspired to become a member of... The problem is this character is not canon: Fay Dunbar is a character in the Harry Potter video games; she doesn't appear in the books. She is only mentioned and described in wikia.com. HPLexicon doesn't mention her, and they are pretty thorough when it comes to their character list.

So, I made up two names: Zoe Thornton-Reid and Patricia Burtrand. They are not canon.