Chapter 4

Chapter 4

"Oh, please, Ron," Hermione whispered, effectively wriggling free from under his arm as they exited the Great Hall. It was obvious that Ron had forgotten to shower for a while. In fact, the entire relationship with Ron was starting to go stale.

At night she would dream of a eloquent man to cuddle. Someone not smelling of old socks. Someone who ate with a minimum of decorum. She had always told herself that teenage boys ate a lot. It was just a simple fact. Ron was a lovely person, and he wouldn't always be a teenage boy. Sooner or later, he would stop stuffing his face in that disgusting way. But he would never cuddle up over by the fire with a nice book. A Quidditch magazine, maybe. While that had seemed acceptable a few months ago, it didn't seem acceptable now.

There was just the tiny fact that ... well ... no one else liked her. She knew it was ridiculous, but part of her worried about ending up alone. Having always been told she was bushy-haired and plain, she knew she wasn't as pretty as Lavender or Parvati. Being plain and too fond of books wasn't a good combination. Part of her argued that she should hold onto what she had. The other part argued not to settle.

"What's got into her?" Ron asked Harry, low enough that he didn't think she could hear.

Harry just shrugged, his attention on Ginny.

"Maybe it's her period?" Ron muttered to himself, still low enough that he believed Hermione couldn't hear. Sadly for him, Hermione's hearing was excellent. She huffed and stalked off up the stairs. Honestly! Boys!

---

Severus didn't have the seventh-year's Potions class until Wednesday. He terrorised two sets of first-years on Monday, both for a double period; a class of third-years and the sixth-year class on Tuesday. Wednesday morning he warmed up by terrifying one of the second-year classes for a double period. By the time lunch came around, everyone in the castle knew that Professor Snape was the same grouchy, snarky git he always had been, not that anyone had truly believed he'd be anything else.

"I'm so glad I dropped The Bat's class!" Ron said around a chicken leg. "I don't envy you two double Potions after lunch!'

"Be quiet, Ron," Hermione snapped. "And it's Professor Snape, not The Bat."

Ron just rolled his eyes and helped himself to a third chicken leg.

"Have you already forgotten how nice he was when he dropped by before the summer?" she asked. "I've never seen him that relaxed."

This earned her a snort from Ron. "Yeah, I'll bet his head was still spinning from the coma, though. He's not been by since, you know." He heaped a second pile of mashed potatoes onto his plate.

"He did thank her for saving his life," Harry objected. "Sure, he's still strict and rather harsh, but he's a hero."

Ron made a noise that might have been a negative, but his mouth was just too full of mashed potatoes and chicken to tell for sure.

They rose from the table – Ron now clutching his fifth chicken leg and a cupcake.

"You're going to get fat, Ron, if you continue to eat that much," Hermione informed him as they left the Great Hall, her voice a little snappy. They were still dating, but she found it harder and harder not to be downright nasty to him, especially when exposed to his atrocious table manners.

"Calm down, Hermione," Ron said, Vanishing the chicken bone. "I'll walk it off just getting to class in this huge castle. Besides, I'm hungry! It's not like we can all survive on what you eat."

Hermione huffed. "What I eat, Ronald, is normal helpings."

"Well, you could do with eating more. We all lost weight during last year, and you're all skinny."

Hermione gaped at him. "I'm not 'all skinny', Ron! I don't know why I even talk to you!" She turned away and hurried down towards the dungeons in a temper.

"What did I say now?" Ron asked Harry. "Girls like to be told they're skinny, right?"

Harry rolled his eyes. "Slim, yes. Pretty, yes. Skinny – hell no. It's like telling her she's all skin and bones, mate. You're in trouble." He followed Hermione, wishing Ginny took Potions. He liked the classes he shared with her best. Even if he couldn't sit with her, he could at least look at her.

"How was I to know?" Ron muttered to the now empty Entrance Hall. "This wasn't in my book."

Perturbed by the idea that there might be more – a lot more – to making a girl like someone than what was in his book, he headed outdoors to relax. Dating Hermione wasn't by far as much fun as it had been, being her friend, especially since she'd refused point blank to sleep with him. She'd said she wanted to wait until they had a 'solid relationship'. He had no idea what that meant. They'd been friends for seven years, right? Wasn't that solid? What was the point in being her boyfriend if it was like being her friend, just with added bossing and a very rare snog? A very rare snog indeed. She hadn't even pecked him on the cheek since they'd returned to Hogwarts.

"I'm behaving myself, too," he said to himself. "No groping, that was in my book. I tell her she looks pretty. Maybe I should try the flower trick?"

Pleased by this idea he headed towards the lake. When a girl for some reason was upset, you should give her flowers. He was on a budget, so he'd pick them himself. But the book had clearly stated that it was the thought, not the price, that mattered. There. He'd give her flowers and she'd forget she was angry. Probably, she'd even snog him properly.

Whistling off-tune, he picked the nearest flower. He wasn't too sure, but it looked like a daisy.

---

Meanwhile, in the dungeons, Severus had just treated the seventh-years to his customary bang of the dungeon door. Then he had glared at them all. Except Herm – Miss Granger.

"Welcome back," he said, not pleasantly, but not nastily either. "Several of you –" here he looked pointedly at Potter "– have been admitted to this class by Professor Slughorn. You'll find that my standards are harder to meet. Fail to do so –" A flick of his wand made the instructions for the potion they'd be brewing appear on the blackboard behind him. "– at your own risk. Instructions on the blackboard as usual. I expect you to finish the base of this today, the rest of it in class tomorrow."

He felt pleased with that one: A warning, a sting at Potter, and he'd been perfectly nice to Miss Granger. Sitting down behind his desk, he pulled out his order catalogue from Potioneer's Finest Ingredients and started making a list of things he'd need to buy in order to start making his first potions. Not even the most inept of them could mess up their brew during the first half hour, and he had no essays to correct yet.

"Sorry, Professor Snape?"

The voice made his head snap up. Not because he was angry and about to descend on the poor, unsuspecting student with his usual sneer, but because it was Hermi – Miss Granger's voice.

"Yes?" He lifted an eyebrow questioningly.

"Er – it says to slice the dandelion root diagonally in my book, but you've written to finely dice them," she stated. She seemed unnerved by his lack of sneer.

He lifted his eyebrow further. He might well want her to like him, but even she couldn't question his ability to write instructions correctly without making him cross.

"I just wondered what sort of difference it makes. How does dicing improve the potion compared to slicing?"

Ah. Now this was much better. He allowed himself a smirk. "Dicing, Miss Granger, makes the potion slightly more long-lasting. While the potion made with sliced roots is potent for barely a week after completion, this version lasts for ten days. That may not seem like a lot of difference to you; it means substantial less work for the witch forced to use it."

"What's it for, anyway?" Lovegood asked dreamily. The girl looked like a dolt with her radish earrings and a necklace with what looked like a ... wasp? But she was sorted under 'tolerable' in his two lists. She never exploded a cauldron or ruined a brew, even though it looked like she had her head in the clouds.

"It's a fertility potion, used by witches when they're attempting to get pregnant."

Half the class blushed, like he'd talked about sex. Merlin. Each and every one of them would probably, some day, want a child. A third of them would use this brew to speed up the process.

Miss Granger, however, didn't blush. She had raised her hand.

"Yes?" he prompted.

"Well. It's not very strong, is it? None of these ingredients are very potent. I mean ..." she trailed off, looking uncertain.

Severus inclined his head slightly. "Indeed. It's not a strong potion. Helpful when trying to conceive, but not meant to counter infertility in any way."

"Is there any potion that can?" she asked.

Potter shifted on his feet next to her, rather pink. Honestly, was he or was he not a man? Facing Voldemort went just fine, but talking about pregnancy made him blush?

"Not entirely, of course, but there is a potion that works in most cases. It's nearly as complex as the Wolfsbane Potion, so you will not be brewing it in this class. We will, however, learn how to brew a contraceptive potion. Much more relevant to the lot of you!"

He heard a splutter, but couldn't identify the source.

"Back to brewing!" Severus demanded, pleased with today's work. Shocking dunderheads was nearly as much fun as intimidating them.

---

When the double period ended, Severus had them all turn in a sample and store their half-brewed potions on the shelves in the back of the room. Then he hesitated a brief moment, writing out homework on the blackboard behind him. It had been a peaceful hour and a half. No near-catastrophes, no Weasley, and Miss Granger's face blushed prettily from working over the fumes. He hesitated now because he wanted to ask Miss Granger a favour. It was all a part of his plan. Asking for help didn't come naturally to him, whether it was a step in his scheme to become happy or not.

"Miss Granger, a word after class, if you please," he said at last. He used the same voice he always used. A bit too stern, as he wasn't at all displeased with her work, but he had said it so many times that his brain seemed to have archived the words with the tone of voice. It came without thinking.

As expected, when told by Professor Snape to wait behind, she looked confused and not a little anxious.

"Was there a problem with my potion, sir?" she asked after Potter had walked out, looking sorry for her.

"No," Severus assured her. "Your potion was, as usual, nearly perfect."

Now she looked gobsmacked. "Er – thank you. Then why –"

"I wanted to ask you a favour," he stated. "As you might or might not know, my father was a Muggle. Spending the last twenty years pretending to be a Death Eater meant I've had no contact what so ever with the Muggle world. I would, however, like to be more up-to-date on the non-magic society." He cringed slightly over the 'last twenty years' part. It might be true, but he hadn't meant to remind her of just how old he was. Well. No matter. At this point, he was merely trying to befriend her, anyway.

"Oh," she replied. "And ... I'm sorry, but I don't see how I can help. The Muggle Studies professor can, surely, tell you about Muggles. Or point you towards a few books on the subject."

"I don't want to hear about dishwashers and electricity. I know about government structures and family life," he told her. "I did grow up as a Muggle, mostly. And I'm not that old, to not remember electricity."

"I didn't – oh!" Her eyes went wide as she realised he'd made a joke. Professor Snape could joke. Who'd have known? "Then what do you want to know, sir?"

"I want to know about modern society. This summer I found myself tossed into it. I need to know what a cell-phone and an internet is."

"The internet."

"What?"

"It's the internet, not an. But I can get you some books on the subject. Modern life, then? Developments in technology over the last twenty years?"

He inclined his head. That would be perfect. Then he recalled that he was trying to win her regards. "That would be perfect," he said out loud. It felt unnatural to voice a positive opinion for once. "Thank you."

"You're welcome," she replied. She even smiled slightly at him. Then she looked at her watch. "I have to go! I'm already late."

"I'll inform Professor Vector that I kept you behind," Severus said calmly. "Off you go." The constant need to be on time had been there in his dream, too. It had annoyed him then and it annoyed him now. "And, Miss Granger?"

She had already reached the door, but now she turned and looked expectantly at him.

"I would appreciate it if you didn't mention this to anyone."

"Of course." She nodded once and turned again.

He watched her hips sway as she left. It would seem she hadn't gained much weight over the summer. Maybe she was naturally slim? He really couldn't recall what she'd looked like back in her sixth year. He could learn to like slim. While he'd always before preferred rounded hips and a soft shape, he could already picture the slimmer version of her doing the things his Hermione did in his fantasies. Yes, the boyish shapes she seemed to possess would do nicely. He wasn't too worried about her looks. While his Hermione had been beautiful he hadn't fallen in love with her looks. It was her mind that had ensnared him. Her personality had made him happy to be ensnared. The fact that she was pretty was simply a nice bonus.

---

By the time dinner came around, Hermione was already making a mental list of books and magazines for Professor Snape. She dug out a piece of parchment as soon as she sat down at the table, noting it all down before she could forget any of them. Thus occupied, she barely even noticed Ron's offer of a rather messy bouquet of flowers. A vague 'thank you, Ron,' was all he got in return for his efforts.

Ron, who had hoped to be forgiven for the mistake of calling her skinny, was relieved to find that she didn't snipe at him. But he had also hoped for a kiss, and that seemed less forthcoming.

"You're welcome," he replied gloomily, trying to ignore Ginny openly laughing at him. She was pointing at the flowers he'd picked and snorting into her plate.

Finally he could no longer take it. "What?" he snapped, glaring at her.

"Daisies and clovers? It's like the ones you brought home for mum when you were six!" Succumbing to a fresh wave of mirth, she clung to Harry and laughed until she had to clutch her side and gasp for air. Ron scowled at her, but she didn't notice, then he scowled at Harry, who just shrugged. Finally, he turned to Hermione and tried to see if she was offended rather than pleased. Girls were so complex! Flowers, but it had to be the right type. Why hadn't the book mentioned what type of flowers a girl liked? By now, Ron was starting to think that maybe his book couldn't provide all the answers he would need. It was something of a letdown. He'd trusted his book. They seemed to work just fine for Hermione.

Luckily, Hermione seemed just fine with her flowers. For the first time since they'd arrived at Hogwarts, she didn't tell him to shut his mouth while chewing. Didn't she know just how difficult that was to remember? The table was filled with all sorts of delicious things, and he was tempted into refilling his mouth while he chewed. It was practical. She didn't tell him not to speak with his mouth full of food, either. That one was near impossible. The others insisted on talking at the table. As his mouth was always filled with food – meals were for eating, after all – he had to speak with his mouth full, or he'd never get a word in.

"Maybe a newspaper," Hermione muttered to herself. "Or a technical magazine. I'll ask Dad." She chewed on her bottom lip without realising it, even though she had promised herself to stop that habit immediately. A grown woman didn't chew her lip.

Up at the High Table, Severus observed the scene with distaste. He didn't know what Miss Weasley found amusing. All he saw was Ron Idiot Weasley stuffing his mouth full of food like he always did, Miss Granger bending over something or another, like she always did, and a bouquet of flowers. It made him scowl darkly. His plan assumed that Weasley acted like the clumsy idiot he surely was. Giving a girl flowers wasn't something a clumsy boy would remember.

If Severus had been close enough to see the type of flowers in question, he might have relaxed. He might have assumed that daisies and clovers meant something special to the two of them, but he wasn't close enough to see anything of the sort. So he decided that he would need to watch this new development very carefully. After all, his happiness depended on it.

A man less single-minded than Severus Snape might have supposed that it wasn't Miss Granger per se who had made him happy in his dream. Maybe it was simply having a woman to love and who loved him back. But Severus never considered this fact. His subconscious had chosen Miss Granger, and so Miss Granger was the one he wanted. Much like when he was a teenager and had set his heart on Lily Evans, he now placed all his efforts on getting Miss Granger to like him. Miss Granger liked to help people; she liked to find information, so he had required her help to seek information. Simple. While she looked for what he wanted, she would inevitably think of him. She would contemplate how nice he had been to her, how he had thanked her politely and complimented her potion-making abilities.

Hopefully she would pay less attention to his crooked, yellow teeth. Severus ran his tongue over them as he thought about it. He knew from Minerva's incessant babble that Miss Granger's parents were dentists. It was just like in his dream, where his Hermione had bullied him into taking a thorough teeth-cleansing potion; one that had him puffing mint-scented smoke from the corners of his mouth for a full 24 hours afterwards, but that had also left his teeth startlingly clean, nearly white. While Severus scoffed at people obsessed with their looks, he supposed that checking into it wouldn't hurt. Since the Weasley Idiot managed to bring her flowers, he needed to up the effort. Clean teeth it was. He'd look up the potions first thing tomorrow. Tonight he had orders for potions ingredients to place.

Already, he had received two orders for a hair re-growth potion and one for a monthly subscription to the Wolfsbane potion. For a man who had no patience for fussing over one's look, he completely sympathised with the wizards in want of a hair re-growth potion. A man needed his hair in order to look manly. If Severus himself hadn't been blessed with hair that stayed where it was meant to stay, neither thinning at the top nor fleeing from his forehead until half his head was hairless, he would have used a hair re-growth potion. To the average student at Hogwarts, that would probably have come as a huge shock. How could a man who let his hair become so greasy actually be fond of said hair? The oiliness didn't bother Severus. He observed the necessities of cleanliness and showered every second day, ignoring the fact that his hair could have used a daily scrub.

Occupied as he was with plans for the immediate future, Severus missed Hermione leaving the Great Hall without her flowers. He also missed Ron scowling at said flowers before he Vanished them.

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