Chapter Four

With the following Saturday came the school's first trip of the term to Hogsmeade. Mid-October was a particularly harsh time of year in Scotland, as it signalled the abrupt transition between autumn and winter. As a precaution against the crisp weather, Hermione dressed in layers before heading down to breakfast. Her Gryffindor Quidditch shirt, covered by her long-sleeve turtleneck and, finally, her annual Weasley sweater, were a bit warm inside the castle walls, but they would be essential once she left the gates. She draped her winter coat over her arm and made her way down to breakfast, choosing a seat next to Ron in an effort to form a ceasefire, if only for the length of the trip.

Ron wasted no time in reaping the benefits of Hermione's non-silence and sprinted off into a drawn-out retelling of his and Harry's morning blooper.

"...and then there was another flash of light, and I landed on the bed again!" Ron grinned, helping himself to sausages.

He had been regaling her with the tale of Harry's newfound Levicorpus spell...Hermione was not impressed.

"Was this spell, by any chance, another one from that Potion book of yours?" she asked.

Of course, she read the answer on his face before he was able to articulate it. Nevertheless, she sat and listened to his repeated defenses of the book's long-ago owner. Hermione frowned the entire time, trying to reason with both men, as Ron had taken to defending the phantom Prince as well.

"You just don't like the Prince, Hermione," Ron said tauntingly, "because he's better than you at Potions..."

"It's got nothing to do with that!" she replied. She could feel her cheeks growing hot. It was only quarter-past-eight in the morning, and Ron already had her at her boiling point.

After a long, chilled trek into Hogsmeade, Hermione gratefully entered Honeydukes with Harry and Ron. Unfortunately, they were not the only ones trying to keep away from the cold.

A booming call of, "Harry, m'boy," reached their ears simultaneously, and Hermione sighed her impatience. Professor Slughorn was going on about his parties, attempting to persuade Harry into attending the next of them.

"Miss Granger loves them, don't you?" Slughorn asked, looking at Hermione hopefully.

"Yes," she lied, "they're really..."

She didn't even get a chance to finish her sentence, for Slughorn continued his rambling, each attempt to entice Harry into accepting his invitation clearly grating on Ron's nerves. Well, at least there's a plus side, she thought vengefully.

The trio agreeably decided to move on down the road, intending to stop at the Three Broomsticks to warm themselves with a few butterbeers. As they neared the familiar pub, Hermione noticed Harry staring daggers at the two men walking in front of them. She studied their figures, immediately recognizing the squat man on the right as Mundungus Fletcher.

"Mundungus!" Harry cried unexpectedly, causing the man, along with Hermione and Ron, to jump.

Mundungus dropped a battered suitcase to the ground, and Hermione squinted her eyes at the scene she could predict was about to unfold. Several of Sirius' possessions were strewn about the sodden ground, and as Hermione turned to her green-eyed companion, she could see that she had been right in her initial assessment...he was furious.

Harry extended an arm and pinned the wizard to the wall by the throat, Harry's teeth clamped together so tightly that Hermione thought the jaws-of-life wouldn't be able to pry them apart. Just when she thought things couldn't possibly get any worse, Harry pulled out his wand, jabbing it roughly up into Mundungus' jaw.

"Harry!" Hermione squealed, horrified.

The Boy-Who-Lived was now nose-to-nose with the ragged Order member, and the flames behind Harry's eyes depicted his fury.

"You took that from Sirius's house," Harry said, glancing quickly at the silver trinkets on the ground and then back up again.

Mundungus sputtered something unintelligible, and Harry poked him harder. The elder man was beginning to turn blue now, Harry's hand constricting steadily around his neck.

Out of nowhere, like an angel on a battlefield, Tonks Apparated directly next to the spot where Harry was standing. The distraction was exactly what Mundungus was looking for, and he grabbed his suitcase off of the ground and Disapparated.

Tonks herded the three of them into the Three Broomsticks, despite the many protests from Harry, and then went back out into the cold. Hermione grabbed them each a butterbeer from the bar, then joined them at a back corner table.

"Ron, what are you staring at?" she asked, taking the seat next to Harry.

"Nothing," Ron replied, looking quickly away from the bar.

Hermione glanced to her right, just in time to see Madam Rosmerta, the curvy barmaid, disappear into the back room.

"I expect 'nothing's' in the back getting more firewhiskey," she replied waspishly.

Idiot. She may not have been getting as many looks as Rosmerta, but at least she didn't have post-pubescent boys leering at her all day long.

"Shall we call it a day and go back to school, then?" she offered the moment Harry had finished his last drop of butterbeer. Her cohorts nodded emphatically.

The trio began the long walk back to the castle, mainly in silence, as Hermione was not exactly speaking to Ron at this point.

Halfway through their journey, Hermione noticed the figures of Katie Bell and another girl from the school growing closer. The girls were walking rather slowly, and it was not long before she, Harry and Ron were only feet behind them and were forced to slow to the leading pair's pace.

Hermione felt the hairs on the back of her neck stand up, and she twisted her head around slowly to both sides of her. Something wasn't right. Suddenly she heard Katie and the other girl, now being openly called Leanne, arguing furiously. There was some sort of tug-of-war going on between them, and Hermione stuck out both of her arms, holding Ron and Harry back from the dueling girls.

"Oy!" Ron shouted indignantly, and Hermione shot him a murderous look.

A blood-curdling scream issued from in front of them, and Hermione turned her sights back to the girls just in time to see Katie rising rapidly into the air. Her arms were stretched out to either side like an unorthodox angel, her eyes shut lazily as if she were sleeping.

Hermione felt a surge of power come towards her from the hovering figure, immediately followed by the sound of Katie's shrill, tortured voice reaching her ears with such force that she was sure she would have trouble hearing for hours.

She, Harry and Ron sprinted forward, just in time for the boys to catch Katie as she dropped like a stone from the sky. They caught her, but had trouble keeping her still, as she appeared to be seizing repeatedly.

"Go get help!" Hermione yelled to Harry and Ron, motioning toward the school.

Harry nodded, muttering something in reply before sprinting off toward castle gates, Ron hot at his heels.

Hermione watched helplessly as Katie experienced seizure after seizure, her only comforting thought that the spasms seemed to be lessening in intensity as they went on.

After what seemed like an eternity, Harry was running back to them, Hagrid close behind.

"Get back!" Hagrid shouted, bending over the convulsing girl. He immediately scooped Katie up into his arms and took off toward the school at as quick a run as his giant legs could manage.

Hermione rose and walked over to Leanne, placing her arm around the hysterical girl.

"It's Leanne, isn't it?" Hermione asked kindly, and the girl nodded.

Leanne proceeded to tell Hermione, and a half-listening Harry and Ron, that Katie had been acting strangely since the Three Broomsticks. Apparently, Katie had been given a package in the girls' bathroom and had been told to deliver it to someone at Hogwarts. Leanne told them that she'd tried to reason with Katie, telling her how irresponsible it would be to bring such a suspicious item into the castle, but Katie simply would not listen. Their argument led to the tug-of-war, and, subsequently, Katie's experience.

Hermione began to lead Leanne up the road to the school, rubbing her arm soothingly as they walked. They had barely reached the edge of the path when Professor McGonagall stormed through the gates, running toward them with a speed of which Hermione did not think the elder woman capable.

McGonagall ushered them all up the path, pausing when Filch came running toward them with his Secrecy Sensor.

"Take this to Professor Snape at once!" McGonagall instructed him and continued to lead them all through the school and into her office. She had completed the journey so fast that Hermione found she had to sprint simply to keep up with her.

Once all of them were settled into the Deputy Headmistress' office, McGonagall turned to the group, sizing them all up with her eyes.

"Well?" she said sharply. "What happened?"

With many breaks and a few crying fits, Leanne told McGonagall what had happened. Somewhere near the middle of the retelling, a small, neatly folded note appeared out of nowhere on the Deputy Headmistress' desk. The elder witch unfolded it, scanning it quickly before placing it back down on the oak surface. When the story was finally finished, and McGonagall had ushered the shaking girl out of her office, she turned back to the trio.

Not wasting a moments' time, Harry took the opportunity to lay his assumptions on the Deputy Headmistress.

"I think Draco gave Katie that necklace, Professor."

Here we go,, Hermione thought, shaking her head impatiently. Truth-be-told, she also thought it quite suspicious that the same necklace she had seen in Borgin and Burke's only minutes after Draco had been in the shop had now hurt a student from the school. That didn't mean that McGonagall would listen to such slander without due cause.

Just as she thought, McGonagall responded, "That is a very serious accusation, Potter. Do you have any proof?"

Of course, the answer was no. Harry tried to argue, but it was no use. Professor McGonagall was not about to listen to one student's untrusting views on another.

"Thank you for telling me your suspicions, Potter," McGonagall said with an inarguable finality, "but I need to go up to the hospital wing now to check on Katie Bell. Good day to you all."

She held open her office door, and Harry and Ron proceeded through it.

"Just a moment, Miss Granger," McGonagall said, bending low to her ear. "Professor Snape has requested your presence in his office after you've completed your rounds tonight. I'm sure it has something to do with the necklace," she added when Hermione gave her a quelling look. "I would not say anything to Potter and Weasley. You know how Professor Snape likes to keep his extracurricular assignments on a need-to-know basis."

Hermione nodded, glancing toward her friends who were now halfway down the corridor.

"You know," McGonagall said with a small smile, "Professor Snape has never taken on a tutee before. I imagine he hopes you will wish to apprentice in the subject someday. Of course, I was counting on you to go further with Transfiguration, but either profession would make for a fine line of work."

Hermione smiled. "Thank you, Professor."

McGonagall nodded, following her student out of the door and heading off in the opposite direction toward the Hospital wing. Hermione let the idea sink in for a moment or two and then trotted down the hallway to catch up with her friends.

***

Hermione went about her rounds as usual, checking each classroom on her way down to the dungeons. As she passed the girls' bathroom on the second floor, a soft sob from inside of the room made her pause. She pushed open the lavatory door slowly, looking around for the source of the noise.

"Hello?" she called into the semi-darkness.

"Go away!" a threatening voice responded.

"Oh, Myrtle," she said with a sigh, relieved. "Are you all right?"

"I said GO AWAY!" the ghost replied.

Hermione walked to Myrtle's resident stall and rapped lightly on the door. "Myrtle, is everything okay?"

At Myrtle's responding silence, Hermione knocked again. "May I come in?" she asked politely.

"NO!"

The voice was harsh and panicky in an almost unrecognizable way, and Hermione nearly jumped at the volume of it. When Myrtle was angry, there was no point in sticking around, let alone trying to comfort her.

"Okay, then," Hermione said, shrugging her shoulders and exiting the bathroom.

When she reached the dungeons, she found the door to Snape's office open slightly, and she knocked quietly before letting herself inside.

"Professor?" she called to him, taking small, deliberate steps.

"Laboratory," he replied from beyond the door to the right.

She let out a relieved sigh, closing the space between her and the laboratory. When she reached the doorway, she gasped quietly. The lab looked like a tornado had just passed through it. Snape had the necklace laid out on what she had come to secretly think of as her table, and dozens of books and devices were sprawled around it.

"You wanted to see me, sir?" she asked softly, her eyes taking in the disheveled state of her surroundings.

He held up his index finger, holding her off while he completed his current task. The sight of him without his signature cape and frock coat was something she found almost comical. The white button-down oxford seemed incredibly out of place on him, and she had never once seen him with his sleeves rolled up to his elbows. She waited patiently for him to finish, watching as he performed nonverbal spell after nonverbal spell on the still-glowing necklace. Several minutes later, after laying down his wand, he wiped the sweat from his brow with his bare forearm and rolled sleeve and turned to face her.

"What do you know about this necklace?" he asked her bluntly.

"Nothing of any importance, sir, only what Leanne told us after it happened."

He nodded. "Go on."

"Well, we were walking back from the Three Broomsticks...Ron, Harry and I...and Katie and Leanne were walking ahead of us," she replied. "After a while, I felt a sort of..."

He looked at her impatiently. "Well?" he said, holding his palms up and out to both sides of his shoulders with annoyance.

She sighed, knowing her answer was going to sound ridiculous. "I felt the hairs on the back of my neck stand up," she said quietly, looking down as she shuffled her feet. "It was the strangest feeling, like there was something evil in our presence and I could sense it."

His silence unsettled her, and she raised her head to face him. He was watching her with his intense gaze, as if deciding whether or not to take her word at face value.

"Continue," he said, gesturing with his hand.

Encouraged by his rapt attention, she held his gaze while she continued. "When she rose up off of the ground," his eyes widened with her words, "I felt a sort of...surge of power, coming from her."

"I see," he said slowly. "And Potter and Weasley? Did they feel the surge as well?"

"I don't believe so, sir," she replied.

He nodded, looking away from her, his stance suggesting he was deep in thought.

"It was cursed, wasn't it, sir?" she asked, breaking the silence. "The necklace...it was spelled with Dark magic. Not a normal curse, either... It was meant to eradicate the wearer...to kill...I felt it." Her body gave an involuntary shiver.

He turned his head back in her direction and studied her carefully for several moments, during which she found herself wondering if her statement had been unwelcome.

"It was meant to kill," he said finally, turning away from her and looking at the necklace.

"I want to help, Professor," she said earnestly. "Please give me something to do. I'll go mad just sitting around here while Katie is in St. Mungo's."

"Miss Bell will be fine in time," he said, his eyes fixed interestedly on hers. "There is nothing more that can be done for her other than rest... nothing that we are able to do here, at any rate."

Hermione blinked once and then nodded, her expression faltering.

"If you would like to help, it will be in the form of research," he said suddenly.

"How?" she responded instantly.

"This conversation does not leave this room, Miss Granger. Is that understood?" he asked, looking at her through narrowed eyes.

She nodded her head in the affirmative.

"There is an ingredient that can help her. The seizures have harmed her nervous system, and she will never be the same," Hermione inhaled sharply, "but they continue to occur, and we can stop them."

Hermione questioned immediately, "How?"

"There is a plant by the name of Optunia Terinblot." He walked back over to the table with the necklace on it and began to rummage through a thick, worn out text. Hermione followed him to the table, standing beside him as he found the page he was looking for and began summarizing passages from it.

"It is more commonly known as brierweed..."

"Oh!" Hermione gasped, causing Snape to halt mid-sentence.

"You've heard of it?" he asked, turning to her in surprise, his finger holding his place on the page.

"Oh, yes," she said, placing her own index finger on the page opposite, tracing the picture of the plant almost lovingly. "It only grows in very remote areas of the Sonoran Desert and is known to cure all sorts of ailments of the human nervous system. There used to be a book in the library on the subject..."

She looked up at him, brow furrowed. "But it's really rare. How are you going to find some?"

He shook his head dismissively. "Never mind that. The point is, I shall be away for most of the night, and I will not be able to research the proper formula. As the Deputy Headmistress is running the school until the Headmaster returns, and the other professors are quite busy as it is..."

His voice drifted off. "Our problem," he said, looking up at her again, "is that time is of the essence where Miss Bell is concerned. That book from the library that you refer to belonged to me. It has been missing for some years now, so the task will not be easy. Aside from that, the plant needs to be gathered, and the brewing method needs to be researched. I cannot do both at the same time."

Hermione responded the moment the last syllable had left his mouth. "I'll do it. I can start right now. Tomorrow is Sunday...I don't have any classes." She glanced toward the door. "But I wouldn't know where to start... I don't really spend much time in the Herbology section of the library."

"You will be using mine," he said flatly, turning back to the book.

Her jaw dropped in surprise. "Yours?"

He looked up at her, his face one of irritation. Upon seeing her impressed expression, his features softened. He gave a half-chuckle, half-snort. "Yes, mine. You will need to enter through my quarters," he studied her as if he was a security guard and he suspected her of shoplifting, "but you are to stay in the library."

"You have a whole library?" she nearly shouted in disbelief.

"I believe I just said that," he replied in annoyance.

"I know, but your own room full of books?"

He shook his head, turning on the spot and crossing the room. "You are hopeless, Miss Granger."

She smiled. His tone was playful, not mocking.

He grabbed a few items off of one of the tables and retreated through the door to the lab, Hermione following closely behind. Walking them both out of his office and down the hallway, he led them through Dungeon Number Five and up to the door at the rear of the dimly lit room. The heavy barrier swung inward as he approached it, and she found herself thinking it odd that he didn't have any wards in place to keep others out.

As if sensing her perplexity, he spoke to her, still walking steadily down the long, dark corridor that they had just entered. "It senses my presence," he stated casually.

"I knew it," she whispered and was surprised, when he answered, that he had been able to hear her.

"Knew what?"

"That the castle was a sentient building. It doesn't say so in any of the history books, but given..." She had been about to say, "but given the features of the Room of Requirement," but stopped herself in time. She wasn't sure that Snape knew about the room and did not think it wise to be the one to give him that information.

Thankfully, he did not question her further, and they had reached the end of the hallway. Yet another door swung open for him of its own accord, this one leading to a lavishly furnished room, all four sides ensconced in floor-to-ceiling bookcases.

Hermione found herself gaping in awe at the walls upon walls of rare and ancient books, her eyes nearly aching to devour each and every one of them.

"If you would not mind retrieving your jaw from my floor..." Snape said, brow rising.

She looked at him, unable to hide her smile.

He continued, "This is my den...or library. The section with the purple book case," Hermione now noted that the books were categorized by colour, "contains the albums on Herbology."

Hermione nodded, glancing fleetingly at the books before looking back at Snape.

"I should be gone most of the night," he continued. "If you are able to find the formula...which I am not confident that you will be...you are to write it on the black board," he raised his wand toward the center of the room, and a freestanding chalk board appeared, its wheels landing on the carpet with a soft thud, "there."

She nodded.

"The restroom," he pointed to an access between two of the large bookcases, "is through there. If you need anything, you can Summon a house-elf," Hermione pursed her lips disapprovingly, "and if you have any problems, you are to contact the Deputy Headmistress."

"Yes, sir," she replied.

"I must away," he said rather dramatically, grabbing his robes and frock coat from the stand next to the door. He paused before leaving, looking as if he had forgotten something, then moved toward the exit. Hermione turned toward the purple shelf, trying to discern where she should begin.

"Miss Granger," he called, and she turned back to him, "thank you for your help." She nodded, and he left the room, closing the door behind him.

***

Hermione's undertaking ended up being much more complicated than she had initially anticipated. Snape possessed, in total, thirty-seven books on desert plants alone. She began her task the only way she knew how...she read.

"Thirty-seven books," she said angrily, slamming shut Desert Cacti and Fungi rather harshly. "Thirty-seven books and not a single word on Optunia Terinblot."

She pushed back the chair and laid her head heavily atop her crossed arms on top of Snape's desk. Her stomach gave a frustrated growl, and she placed her forehead on her arms and looked down at her abdomen. No wonder she was hungry...she hadn't eaten a thing since breakfast.

Looking around at the disheveled array of books that lay upon Snape's desk and side table, she sighed. "I'd kill for some shepherd's pie..." she grumbled irritably.

A loud crack to her right made her jump, her knees banging against the underside of the desk.

"Miss asked for shepherd's pie!" Dobby squeaked loudly, a silver tray slapping down on top of the pile of books on the side table.

"Oh! Not there," she yelled in alarm, lifting the tray off of Snape's precious books and replacing it on an empty spot on the desk. Once she had secured the tray and picked up all surrounding books, she turned to Dobby, her arms bustling with tomes.

"Thank you, Dobby," she said kindly, setting the books down gently on the desk. "I didn't realize that you could hear me. You really didn't have to do this," she added, eyeing the tray hungrily. The moment she stopped speaking, her stomach growled loudly once more, and Dobby gave her a triumphant smile.

"Dobby listens for Miss. Miss is very good to the house-elves," Dobby replied, smiling brightly. "Miss is hungry! Miss should eat now."

She smiled. "Perhaps in a little bit, Dobby. I've got a lot of research to do." Her eyes drifted over to the pile of references that now covered most of the desk from corner to corner. She sighed. She already knew her answer did not lie in any of them.

"Miss has a big test?" Dobby said interestedly.

"No," she answered, shaking her head. "I just need to find information on a rare plant, and it doesn't seem to be available in these books. But you've been wonderful," she said, smiling at the elf politely. "Thank you for the dinner."

"Dobby knows! Dobby knows!" the elf squeaked excitedly. A second later he was gone without warning, the only sign he had been there a small puff of smoke left in his wake.

"Elves," Hermione said, shaking her head with a smile, and she began the project of re-shelving the uninformative texts.

Moments later, a second loud crack echoed throughout the room, causing Hermione to drop the copy of Foul Weather Plants that she had been holding. She swore under her breath when the heavy encyclopedia landed on her foot and turned a rather scornful eye toward Dobby.

Dobby looked petrified. "Dobby is so sorry, Miss. Dobby didn't mean to frighten. Dobby is a bad elf," the tiny creature cried, lunging for Snape's desk lamp.

Hermione caught his wrist just in time, holding on to it tightly and using her free hand to move the lamp out of Dobby's reach.

"It was an accident, Dobby," she said assertively, still wearing an irritated frown. "You do not need to punish yourself." She watched as the elf's eyes glanced fleetingly toward the lamp. Apparently, she would have to make herself absolutely clear. "I'm fine," she said, curling her lips up into a pretentious half-smile. "See?" she lifted her foot off the ground and stomped it powerfully back down against the carpet. Though it did hurt a little, the pain from the fallen book had, for the most part, subsided. She smiled cajolingly, and he returned the gesture with a toothy grin of his own.

"Miss is a kind lady," the elf said emotionally, eyes watering. "That is why Dobby has helped Miss."

"Yes, thank you, Dobby. I'll eat it in a bit, just as soon as I've finished re-shelving these textbooks..."

Dobby snapped his fingers, and the volumes all levitated from the desk and table, spinning around once, making Hermione dizzy. She watched on in awe as they flew to the bookcases where they belonged and arranged themselves accordingly.

Hermione smiled. "Thank you, that was very kind of you."

"No time," Dobby said, shaking with apparent excitement. "Dobby has helped Miss..."

"Oh, all right," she huffed, walking toward the silver platter. "I only have time for a quick bite th..."

"No time!" Dobby squealed, surprising her, and raised his hand, the platter mimicking the motion by ascending up off of the desk. The elf pointed toward the chair and gestured for Hermione to take a seat.

"Dobby, what..."

"Miss must sit! Dobby has helped," the tiny elf nearly shouted as the platter descended softly onto the newly-cleared side table.

Hermione was taken aback by his abrupt command, and she complied, looking at him curiously.

Dobby's mouth widened in a huge, accomplished smile, and he made sure he had her undivided attention before looking back at the tray. He snapped his fingers, and the platter disappeared, leaving in its place a monstrous green book with faded writing on the cover.

The elf picked up the book and hobbled over to Hermione, switching the tome from hand to hand in an attempt to hold its weight without dropping it. He pushed the text up over the edge of the desk, his body not quite tall enough for his hands to reach the surface.

Wherever the book had come from, it was old. She grabbed her sweater off of the back of the chair and wrapped her hand in it, proceeding to wipe the dust off of the hunter green cover.

"I can't read it..." she mumbled, staring at the foreign writing on the cover of the book.

"It's Elvish," Dobby said happily, reaching out and stroking the text lovingly with his fingers. "Dobby can read it. It says Harafarim Va Dalefi. Speak and ye shall find."

Hermione looked oddly at the elf. "Don't you mean seek and ye shall find?"

Dobby's smile faltered, and he stared keenly at the book. "No, Miss. Not seek. Speak."

Hermione pondered the inscription for a moment, smiling when she came to what she felt was an oversimplified conclusion.

"Optunia Terinblot," she said clearly, her voice directed downward toward the writing on the cover.

Both she and Dobby jumped backward as the book rose up off of the desk of its own accord, a brilliant, streaming light shooting out from in between its many pages. A constant, deafening hum was issuing from the floating text, the sound causing Hermione's ears to ache.

The book seemed to be circling the air in the room around itself, forming a fan that blew out toward the walls on all four sides of it. Hermione's hair whipped unnaturally behind her, and Dobby's pillowcase and tea cozy were on the verge of tearing loose completely.

"DOBBY!" she yelled over the noise. "WHAT'S HAPPENING?"

Dobby looked anxiously from her to the book, his normally bulging eyes now nearly protruding right out of his head. "Dobby doesn't know, Miss! Dobby got the book from hidden room!"

"WHAT HIDDEN ROOM?" she called back, raising her voice an octave higher to drown out the vibration.

"Harry Potter's hidden room!" Dobby squealed back.

She blanched. Dobby had retrieved the book from the Room of Requirement. Anyone could have placed it there, she thought fleetingly, and that was certainly not a good thing.

As quickly as the book had risen in the first place, it abruptly fell back down onto the desk, landing flatly and silently atop the ancient oak with little more than a soft thud.

Hermione cautiously approached the now stationary object, Dobby cowering subjacent to her, his bony fingers clinging nervously to her legs.

She reached a quaking hand toward the tome and jumped back as it opened prosaically to a page of its own choosing.

Her eyes widened in shock, her brow shooting up into her hairline when she read the title of the page aloud.

"The Properties and Practical Applications of Optunia Terinblot."

***

The sun was rising on the east side of the castle by the time Hermione had finished copying the lengthy formula for the Tiutisch Caedo draught to the blackboard. Being that her current place of occupancy was in the stygian sublevels of the ancient building, she was naturally oblivious to that unmitigated fact.

She sat back down at Snape's desk and began replicating the notes from the blackboard onto the sheets of parchment that were laid out before her. Shaking her head, she mused how odd it was that her professor didn't keep a notebook handy for purposes such as this one. She would just have to make do with the bits of parchment she had on her when she'd arrived.

She decided to copy down the required ingredients on a separate section, which would make it much easier for him to retrieve them before brewing.

What seemed like an eternity later, she finally organized her many pieces of parchment into three neat piles: ingredients, processing steps, and timetables.

She brought her arms up above her head and stretched them to their limit. As she brought them back down, her stomach gave an irritated growl. She had not eaten the dinner that Dobby had left for her.

The desk and table were covered with notes, lists and reference books, so Hermione decided to snatch up her tray of very cold shepherd's pie and pumpkin juice and eat it on the green velvet settee on the opposite side of the room. She ate gratefully, despite the fact that the food was not quite as visually appealing as usual. Six hours sitting out in the dark bowels of a chilly dungeon could do that to a meal.

She found her mind wandering as she ate. Perhaps if she were extremely agreeable to be around, and very quiet, Snape might allow her to observe the brewing. Her heart lifted at the thought, and she placed her empty tray and glass on the floor next to the sofa. The potion would be one that she had never heard of before and he had, presumably, never brewed.

Just a few minutes down that line of thought, and Hermione barely noticed as her eyes slipped shut, and she fell deep down into the murky world of dreams.

***

Hermione opened her eyes slowly to the sight of...well, nothing. The room was completely dark. She felt around at her side, and sure enough, her wand was within her grasp.

"Lumos," she said groggily, and the torches in the room flared to life a little too brightly, blinding her temporarily.

She blinked in rapid succession, and as the room came into focus, she remembered where she was.

"Shit," she cussed softly under her breath.

She had fallen asleep in Snape's quarters. She assumed by the lights being off when she woke that the castle had thought she needed rest...either that, or Dobby had returned while she was sleeping. She looked over at the side table, and sure enough, there was a tall glass of pumpkin juice waiting for her. She stretched her arms and legs as far away from her torso as she could get them, looking very much like a waking cat.

At least Snape hadn't gotten back while she was sleeping. She couldn't even begin to imagine the number of house points he would take for a student falling asleep on his sofa. Not wanting to be around when Snape actually did return from his search, she rose from her seat and collected her things, which actually only consisted of her quill, notebook, wand and robes.

She walked over to the lavatory...her last stop before returning to her dorm room and concluding her weekend. She wondered if Snape, or perhaps Dumbledore, would contact her when the potion was finished. In the light of the morning, she realized that it was probably unlikely she would be allowed to watch the brewing process. As she thought fleetingly about the length of time needed to finish the procedure, she realized that if it really did take two weeks to complete, her lessons would probably be put on hold. Pity... her Potions classes would be increasing in difficulty leading into the Christmas break.

She placed a hand on the bathroom door handle and turned it gently, glancing back to the glass of pumpkin juice on the table and rubbing the sleep from her eyes. There was frost on the glass...she must have just missed Dobby, as there was still frost on her waiting glass.

When she turned back to the lavatory she nearly fell over backwards.

"What have I already told you about knocking?"

Snape's snide voice registered in her mind only seconds after the sight of him. Wordlessly, she spun away from him, slamming the door shut behind her.

She nearly sprinted over to the settee, her hands covering her face in embarrassment. She had just seen Snape...Professor Snape, her Defense Against the Dark Arts professor...freshly showered, a black towel wrapped round his waist the only thing shielding his nude form from her eyes.

She couldn't have imagined a more humiliating scenario.

The worst part was that she wasn't repulsed as she thought she would have been. If she were honest with herself, she was a bit turned on by the sight of him...and that thought alone mortified her.

She tried to push the vision from her mind...the impropriety alone was reason enough to do so. Alas, she couldn't help herself...the memory was far too fresh. His hair had been hanging in long, wet strands, the ends of which sat barely touching his shoulders. A few of the raven locks had escaped the collected tress, and she could see their reflected image hanging loosely in front of his eyes as he looked into the bathroom mirror.

In the few seconds she'd watched him, she'd managed to memorize the lines of his body. A sparse collection of dark fibers seemed to be the only hairs on his thorax. The patch in the middle of his chest ran in a thin line down his abdomen and disappeared beneath the black towel.

He was not a big man, rich in neither body fat nor muscle, but his figure was one of strength and cultivation. She supposed it could be attributed to his activities whilst spying for the Order, though she preferred not to think about the dark side of his double life, if it could be helped.

The fact that he had not startled, or yelled, or slammed the door in her face, was not lost on her. Still, she feared that the consequences for not only falling asleep in his quarters, but also walking in on him half-naked the next morning, would probably be fairly nasty. She cringed when she thought what the punishment may consist of...she hoped he wouldn't end their lessons for good.

When she heard the door to the bathroom creak open, she stared down at her feet with great interest, avoiding his eyes at all costs.

"You may look up, Miss Granger. I am quite decent... now," Snape added irritably.

She chose to continue the intense observation of her shoes, answering him without eye contact.

"I'm sorry, sir... I didn't know you were back. I saw the orange juice the elves left, and I assumed..."

"I left the orange juice," he interrupted shortly.

She had no reply for that statement. To be honest, she was still waiting for Snape's tongue lashing. She couldn't have gotten off that easily.

"Where did you find it?" he asked calmly.

"Find what, sir?"

"Miss Granger, you will look at me when I am speaking to you," he said, and she turned to him slowly. "Better," he said, looking her in the face. "Now, where did you find the formula?"

That was not a question she had been expecting, and she had no idea how to answer him. Dobby had said he'd retrieved the book from the Room of Requirement, but she still had no idea to whom it belonged or why it had been placed there in the first place. Perhaps a stretching of the truth, then...

"One of the house-elves brought me a book that listed the properties of the plant."

He arched a cynical brow at her, answering doubtfully, "A house-elf?"

She nodded, and he shook his head, speaking distractedly, "I had thought perhaps you'd found it in one of my books."

She shook her head, glancing fleetingly at his bookshelves. "No, sir. I looked all night, but I couldn't find anything about the plant in any of them."

For some reason, he looked disappointed. "I see." He looked over at her notes on the desk. "And where is this mysterious book from which you dictated the notes?"

"Over..."

But when she turned her head, she found that the book was not on the desk where she had left it, and a glance at the side table proved that it was not there either.

"I don't know, sir," she replied, looking back up at him, puzzled. "I left it on the desk. I suppose the elves must have returned it after I fell asleep..."

"That," he responded, perusing his shelves, apparently seeking out the missing tome, "is a topic for later discussion."

She flinched. She'd known she wouldn't get away with napping on his settee. Though in all actuality, he didn't seem that upset.

"What colour was the book?" he asked suddenly, turning to her and leaning back against his Morphology bookcase.

"Colour?" she asked, taken aback by his question.

"Colour," he repeated slowly and clearly, eyes fixed on hers.

"Er...green, sir," she replied. "The book was green."

Again, Snape look disappointed, and righted himself from the bookshelf, walking over to examine the blackboard.

"Sir," she asked, completely baffled by Snape's actions, "what colour were you expecting it to be?"

He turned to her, and she could almost hear the wheels turning in his head. She waited patiently for him to speak to her.

"You've copied all the notes, word for word, from the book?" he asked.

"Yes, and no... they're all up there, but I've organized them into categories. I've done the same with my notes," she replied, pointing to the desk.

He nodded. "I have read them. They are very thorough."

She did her best not to smile like an idiot. "Thank you, sir," she hesitated, "and I apologize for falling asleep. I should have left when I was finished."

"Which I'm sure was quite some time after sunrise and consequently forgivable," he said unemotionally. "And on that note, if you wish to assist me with the brewing of this potion, you will have to learn to knock...starting now."

"Assist you?" she replied blankly. Clearly she was hearing things.

"Or go play tiddlywinks with Potter and Weasley...it's really of no consequence to me," he answered nonchalantly, though she could see the irritation in his eyes and body language as well as an underlying waspishness in his tone.

"I just didn't think you would let me," she answered quickly, trying to save herself from missing out on the project due to a mere miscommunication. "I would love to work on the potion with you. Thank you," she added as an afterthought, attempting to leave no room for him to revoke the invitation.

He studied her for a moment, during which time she truly thought he was going to change his mind.

"Go back to your dorm room," he said, and her face fell.

He looked her up and down, then added, "Clean yourself up." She could have sworn he was staring at her sleep-muddled hair when he said it. "Return to the laboratory in one hour. The room will be prepared when you arrive."

She nodded, masking her smile, and retreated to her room to prepare for the day.