Errors and Trial

"So," Hermione said, tapping the parchment in front of her with her quill, "if we change the emphasis to the second syllable, it should change the meaning to 'suggestion' instead of 'command.'"

Glancing up from his own parchment, Severus met her inquiring gaze and nodded curtly in reply before reaching for his cup of coffee and taking a few sips. He noticed that her eyes followed the movement of his arm and hand and suppressed a smirk at the longing in her expression. He had discovered, while working with the woman, that she was inclined to become completely absorbed in her work, to the point that she forgot to take care of herself, while he had self-preservation written on his bones. Often, he would slip out for food or coffee without her even noticing, and he rarely returned with anything for her, unless her growling stomach had been irritating him. The last trip to acquire caffeine had been no different. His reasoning was that she needed to learn to take care of herself while working on projects, no matter how consuming or important they were; that, and it was rather entertaining to watch her envy him for something as simple as coffee.

Of course, watching her in general had its benefits. As they had moved their base of operations from the shop to her flat, she often opened her door for him dressed in Muggle sweatpants and tank tops, which seemed expressly designed to cling to and accentuate the wiggling of her curves. Furthermore, she spent much of the time leaning over the table directly in front of him, which provided a very acceptable change of scenery from blotted parchments and complicated books.

No, working closely and extensively with Hermione Granger had not been quite the arduous task he had imagined it. Not that it had been perfect, by any means, but he only wanted to strangle her once or twice a day, instead of the expected four or five times. She was bossy as all hell and as stubborn as he, and they both despised being wrong. His leaps of intuition often did not sit well with her logical and straightforward thought process, while he grated against her reluctance to try anything completely new.

At least they had finally reached this new variation of the spell without a riotous quarrel, which was more than could be said of the previous three. "Shall we try this once again?" he asked. At her nod, he stood and reached for the piece of parchment she held; she gave it to him, and he read the new incantation to himself as she prepared the sitting room for another test run by moving the furniture out of the way with her wand. This was the "crime" that they were using as the subject for their tests; the magical signature of her wand would be traced by the spell, and, if all went well, she would be gently, but firmly, guided back to the "scene of the crime" by the spell. Thus far, she had been Splinched twice and arrived naked once. He had to admire her tenacity in being the guinea pig for the tests, as being Splinched was an experience most wizards went far out of their ways to avoid, but she was determined to find a way to legally obtain proof of Flourish's guilt.

"All set," she said, and he looked up to see her heading for the door to her bedroom. He waited a minute after it closed to begin the incantation. Softly chanting the words, he moved around the room, drawing shimmering lines that connected each piece of furniture she had moved until a jagged loop had formed. With a deft flourish, he sealed the ends of the circle, stepped into a corner, and waited.

Nothing happened. No "pop" of Apparition. Not so much as a squeak. Sighing, he slid around the edges of the spell until he reached the door to her bedroom and opened it.

"Something went wrong..." he began upon entering, but stopped when he saw what the spell had done.

Hermione was floating a few inches off the floor and spinning around like a prima ballerina. Her hair was haloing around her head, flung out by centrifugal force, and from what he could see of her face each time it flashed by, she was not happy.

He snickered, and then burst into a full-out laugh.

"This...is not...funny!" she snarled, spitting each word at him as she spun around.

"Oh, really?" he replied, still laughing as she attempted to grab on to something to stop herself spinning; he evaded her clutches, but was too slow to dodge the fist that connected with his shoulder on her next rotation.

"Severus, get...your skinny...arse...back in that...room...and undo...the spell!"

With his shoulder aching, it was sorely tempting to simply return to the sitting room and wait for an apology before undoing the spell; upon further thought, an aching shoulder would be the least of his worries once Hermione was free, so he grudgingly waved his wand through the silver lines, severing the connection and ending the spell. A yelp and a muffled thump from the other room signaled Hermione's release from the spell's effects. Still chuckling a bit, Severus returned to find her on hands and knees on the floor, looking more than a little green and breathing hard.

"Well, at least some good has come of you not eating anything for two days," he said, leaning against the doorframe. "There's nothing to come up when this sort of thing happens."

"I haven't eaten," she panted, "for two days?" She did not look at him, keeping her gaze fixed firmly on the floor between her hands, though he thought he saw the now-familiar crease appear between her brows. The wild mess that her hair usually was had been intensified by the spinning; as a result, a good portion of it was defying gravity.

"I brought you a sandwich yesterday. That's all."

"Oh." Slowly, she pushed herself up until she was kneeling on the ground. Even this cautious movement must have set off a wave of nausea, for she swayed slightly and went pale, clutching one hand to her head. "Oooh. I think I'll stay here for a while."

Severus sighed. He was hungry, she probably could use something to eat, and they needed to debrief what had just happened, none of which would happen while she knelt on the floor and felt sorry for herself. In one stride, he had crossed the distance between them; swiftly, he bent, grasped her arms, and hauled her to her feet, ignoring her gasp of protest.

"Standing will normalize your circulation and help you recover faster," he improvised, wondering if it was true and whether or not she would know. True or not, the hastily-concocted explanation was not enough to appease her; she yanked out of his supportive grasp, thunderclouds forming on her brow, but he saw her wobble a bit right before she collapsed forward onto his chest, grabbing his upper arms to hold herself up.

Looking down into a mass of bushy brown hair, he smirked and said, "Now, where have I seen this before?"

"Sod off." He grinned at that. It was so delightfully easy to bait her about the one afternoon of sex they'd had. The pleasure he took from teasing her was increased by the fact that he knew she still wanted him; each barb was a reminder that she had had him once and might never do so again. Not that he actually had any strong objections to another dalliance, but it hadn't taken him long to figure out that Hermione Granger in full research mode was not an easy thing to deal with. Any proposition on his part was likely to be responded to with a glare and some tart comment about priorities; that was, if she didn't simply ignore it as another jibe.

It was a long minute until Hermione got her legs working properly again, during which Severus tried not to enjoy having her pressed against him too much; blissfully, his body acquiesced to his wish. Still, he was relieved when she finally pushed herself off him and stood on her own. As she looked up at him, still a touch unsteady, he noticed the dark circles under her eyes, which contrasted ghoulishly with the unhealthy pallor of her skin. A surreptitious glance up and down her body showed that her sweatpants had a bit less to cling to than before.

Severus Snape would be the first person to say that he generally did not give a damn about the well-being of the rest of the human race. He had plenty of problems of his own without worrying about anyone else's. But right now, he could not help but react to how wan Hermione looked, though a good part of said reaction was disgust with her absurd Gryffindor tendencies to put everything before her own well-being. It was, however, her loss of weight that decided his course of action; if sleeping with her at any point was still a possibility, he wanted to ensure that she retained the plump curves he had so enjoyed running his eyes and hands over.

"Get dressed in clothes suitable for the public's eye and find some way to control the shrubbery on your head," he ordered her, pointing to the closet imperiously. "We are going to acquire some lunch while we discuss this latest test run."

Maybe her head wasn't on quite right after spinning around for several minutes. Maybe it was the commanding way he'd said it. Or maybe Hermione's subconscious realized her need for food and sunshine more than she knew because she found herself moving to obey Severus' orders as soon as he'd said them.

She dropped her shirt to the floor before she remembered he was still in the room.

Gazing into her closet, she decided there were two options: continue the undressing / dressing process without acknowledging him; or turn, half-naked, and ask him to leave.

His eyebrows shot up a notch when she spun around; though, to his credit, his eyes only flicked down to her chest for an instant before fixing on her face.

"Would you mind giving me a bit of privacy while I change?" she asked sweetly, propping her hands on her hips. He had been asking for this, really, with all his sly little innuendos and allusions to their afternoon together; if he made one more of his comments, she was inclined to take it as consent and just rip off his clothes and go for it.

With a slight sneer, he retreated; though she noticed he didn't shut the door. She could read the message there: I'll do as you ask, but it's nothing I haven't seen before. Sighing at the constant complexity that was Severus Snape, she quickly changed into jeans and robes, grabbing a hair tie and cramming her hair into a bun at the back of her head as she went back into the sitting room.

She found him Reducing their notes and slipping them into his pockets, presumably so they could discuss them over lunch. Opening her mouth to inquire as to where he wanted to eat, she was cut off before she even began.

"There is a very nice café in Muggle London that I am quite fond of. It's near the Leaky Cauldron, which will make the second part of our excursion easy."

"What second part? What else are we doing?" she asked, feeling the trepidation that accompanied any mysterious suggestions of Severus' start to creep up.

He turned, giving her a slightly disgusted look. "We're going by your shop so I can acquire some more of my payment for this enterprise."

"You've already taken out eight books!"

"And each one has drawn up more questions, which require more books in order to be answered. Might I add," he said, a warning note entering his smooth voice as he moved over to loom above her, "that you put no quantitative limits on our bargain." It was fairly clear from his tone and his scowl that any such limits would result in the end of the bargain.

"Fine," she snapped. "But we're splitting the check for lunch."

"Doesn't the employer generally pay for the employee?"

"Doesn't the gentleman generally pay for the lady?"

"As you have previously pointed out, I am a git, not a gentleman." Before she could respond to that, he had wrapped an arm around her shoulders and drawn her close to him, pressing her against his firm torso; she felt the familiar tug of Apparition as her flat vanished from sight.

The next sight that greeted her eyes was the brick-lined courtyard behind the Leaky Cauldron, which was a very popular Apparation point for wizards planning to go into Muggle London, as there was less risk of Apparating right on top of someone, as occasionally happened in Diagon Alley or other crowded areas. At the moment, though, it felt rather crowded; of course, to her, an open field would feel crowded if she was directly adjacent to Severus Snape, as she currently was. It took quite a bit of willpower to pull away from that lean, hard body, instead of snuggling closer to it and inhaling the masculine scent of him. Hermione knew better than to confront him about his actions; he would probably make some blithe, yet cutting, remark about how Side-Along Apparation worked better when the passenger was beside the Apparator. Instead, she simply followed him as he made his way through the dingy pub and into the bright street outside.

The café turned out to be a little Italian place a few blocks away from the Leaky Cauldron. It was small and lit mostly by sunlight that came through the large, open windows that faced onto a patio in the back. The tables and chair were a bit mismatched, though they all tended towards simple design and dark woods. Hermione was surprised when a waiter asked Severus if he wanted his usual table set for two; she had never pictured him as the type to frequent a Muggle restaurant often enough to merit a usual table. Regular or not, however, she could tell that some of the wait staff were less than thrilled to see him...a few dark looks and hasty retreats clued her in.

Once they were seated, with a glass of wine each and a basket of fresh bread between them, Hermione got straight down to business.

"What do you believe went wrong with the sp--test?" she said, realizing at the last minute that she was in a Muggle establishment and therefore should refrain from mentioning spells and magic in every sentence. From the way his lips twitched, he had noticed her near slip.

"I believe," he replied, selecting a slice of bread and plucking it from the basket with his long fingers, "that by changing the meaning of the last word to 'suggestion,' we did not, as we intended, suggest that the victim return to the scene of the crime. Rather," he continued, now buttering his bread and taking a neat bite, "the effect was a suggestion of Apparation." Sipping his wine, he cocked an eye at her over the bowl of the glass, clearly expecting her to fill in the rest. It was remarkable how he could be working for her, and yet he could put her on the spot exactly as he would have in the classroom (that is, as he would have if he had ever called on her in the classroom, which he never had).

"Oh. I see. There wasn't enough impetus for the Apparation to be completed, so it just got to the spinning around stage." Frustrated, she glared into her wine before taking a healthy gulp. It was a smooth red, and its rich taste made her feel a little better. She continued to toy with the glass as she thought out loud. "So... we need to remove Apparation from the words entirely... except that will probably cause multiple problems with the rest of the effects..." She fell silent as the waiter returned to take their orders; lost in thought, she didn't notice when Severus finished his own order. A cough brought her back to reality, and she glanced over at Severus, realizing that she hadn't bothered to look at the menu.

"She will have the lasagna, I think?" he prompted, raising an eyebrow to see if she had any objections. When she nodded acquiescence, a brief look of what might have been satisfaction passed over his face, though she couldn't for the life of her tell why her food choice would cause that. Again, she put the eccentricities of Severus Snape out of her mind and refocused on the spell they had to fix.

They spent the rest of the meal debating various ways to change the spell without either gaining new, unwanted effects or undoing the desired ones. By the time the espresso and chocolate torte had shown up, they were glaring at each other again, as Severus had just told Hermione that her most recent idea "would be about as effective as Lockhart's teaching," to which she had responded that Lockhart was charming enough not to have to control his class by terror. When it came time to pay, they both slammed their share of the bill down so hard that nearby customers jumped and then stormed out, leaving somewhat frightened stares in their wake.

Not a word was spoken during the walk to the Leaky Cauldron, nor did they say anything as Hermione tapped the correct order of bricks to open up the wall into Diagon Alley, and silence continued to reign in the brief walk to her shop. She undid the wards as quickly as possible and preceded Severus into the shop, though she chose to remain at the counter and fiddle with paperwork rather than accompany him as he searched for the books he wanted. It took him nearly forty minutes before he returned to the front, carrying a sizeable stack of books and looking a bit less angry and more thoughtful than he had before being set loose upon her wares. It occurred to her, looking at him, that being given free reign in a bookshop would have exactly the same effect on her.

"I was thinking about our earlier discussion," he said, setting the books down on the counter. He very intentionally didn't quite look her in the eyes as he spoke, and she wasn't sure if that was appealingly awkward or a little frightening; she hid her own confusion by recording the titles he had selected as he continued.

"While there were numerous problems with your last suggestion, I was... reconsidering it while I browsed, and I think it may have...potential to work. If we implement a few of my own ideas, of course."

Of course. He may have conceded a minor point to her, but there was no way Severus would ever admit to being entirely wrong. You did hire him to advise you, she reminded herself, so it's no good being stubborn and not taking his advice. "Very well," she replied. "Just give me a few minutes to put a few things in order here and we'll go back to my flat to experiment some more, okay?"

He nodded and exited, leaving her to calculate how much longer she could afford not to open the shop. It was a long, complicated equation that threatened to give her a headache.

Stepping back out into the warm summer afternoon, Severus wondered if he was getting too emotionally involved in the project; he must be mentally off somehow, if his recent admission to being wrong about something was anything to go by. It was true that her idea, at first consideration, was ridiculous, but his mind had been nagging at it all through their walk, and a few possibilities had emerged. This was not the first time such a thing had happened, but in the past he had always managed to take all the credit for any resulting success. He certainly had not told the idea's progenitor that he had reconsidered his original opinion.

And this time, he didn't even have the haze of a recent orgasm to excuse his action.

"Well. Professor Snape. Good afternoon."

Long practice had made Severus all but immune to being surprised by people sneaking up on him; even as the adrenaline raced through his veins, he kept a calm mien as he turned to find Tiburos Flourish standing a few feet in front of him. He recognized the moronic fedora that the man had worn to that eventful night in the Three Broomsticks all those weeks ago, though his robes were far more businesslike. He still had the same shark-like smile.

"I had heard a few rumors about your recent activities, but now I see that you really have chosen sides." There was a clear note of false sorrow in the last part of the sentence, as though Flourish were mourning a man who had chosen the weaker army right before a major war.

"I am assisting Miss Granger in some minor research," Severus replied evenly, surveying Flourish for any clue as to what he was up to. "I fail to see how that requires me to have 'chosen sides.'"

Flourish chuckled a little, a smooth, assuming noise that made Severus grit his teeth. "Minor research, all-out war, it's all the same, really. You're still working for her, not me, which is really a shame for you, as I'm sure I could pay you much more than she can." He crossed his arms, regarded Severus with his head cocked a little to one side, and dropped his voice as he continued. "Of course, I couldn't match the appeal of having her on her knees, sucking your cock every payday--."

He stopped abruptly, as people were wont to do when Severus pressed his wand into their windpipe with a snarl etched on his face. He had to give Flourish points for remaining cool when threatened; his leering smile barely slipped, and all he did was slowly uncross his arms and hold them up in surrender.

"It would behoove you," Severus hissed, fighting to keep from doing the man serious damage, "to turn around and walk away. Right now. And Mr. Flourish, rest assured that if I had not chosen sides before, I certainly have now." People were staring at the two of them, and especially at Severus, but small scuffles in Diagon Alley were not uncommon; as long as no magic was actually used, people tended not to interfere.

Flourish nodded, backing away slowly with his arms still raised, but even though his actions spoke of surrender, there was a triumph in his eyes right before he turned away that had Severus more than a little worried. Nobody had ever looked remotely triumphant when he was threatening them, so it made him wonder exactly why Flourish had chosen to confront him, and to say what he had said.

"All set!"

Hermione appeared beside him, looking a bit more cheerful than she had a few minutes ago and holding a few rolls of parchment. Her face fell when she looked up at him; no doubt he looked positively murderous.

"Er, Severus... Is--is everything all right?" she asked, a slight hitch in her voice.

"I think," he ground out, grabbing her arm and pulling her a bit closer, "that we should finish our experiments as quickly as possible." With that, he focused on her flat, spun around, and Disapparated, pulling her with him.

When they appeared in her sitting-room, he wasted no time in pulling out their notes and returning them to their original size. Muttering to himself, he grabbed a quill off the coffee table and sat down to being scribbling out a new variation. She was right; if we change this word back to 'command' but remove the word for Apparation... and replace it with the word for 'travel.' He stared at the paper. This should work! "Hermione, move the furniture again. I...we've figured this out." He thrust the paper at her, letting her scan it quickly and seeing the light of discovery appear in her eyes. Handing him back the sheet, she quickly sent some of the furniture twisting around the room before she all but ran to her bedroom and shut the door.

Quickly, Severus connected the pieces of affected furniture, drawing the silver lines with as much speed as he could safely manage. Carefully, he read through the incantation, enunciating each syllable with all the delicacy of a trained actor, while the words this will work, this has to work flew through his mind. When he finished the spell, his gaze flew to the bedroom door.

Seconds ticked by. Silence. He bit back the curse words that arose in his throat, not daring to risk the quality of the spell.

A faint scuffling nose made him even tenser, if that was possible. With agonizing slowness, the doorknob turned and the door was pushed open a bit, then pulled back, but then opened all the way. Hermione stumbled out, looking like a marionette trying to fight the strings of her puppet master as she was dragged towards the circle of silver light.

Severus didn't breathe until she had collapsed in the center, panting from trying to resist the spell. Her breathing was the only sound for a minute, until...

"It worked!" Severus had about half a second to cut the lines with his wand before she launched herself at him, wrapped her arms around his neck, and planted a very firm kiss on his lips. He couldn't help it; he went rigid.

"Oh..." she said, pulling back and unclasping her arms from his neck. "I...er...sorry about that. I was just a bit...excited." She bit her lip and tucked a strand of hair behind her ear, bushing slightly.

"I'm not interested in your apologies," he snapped, still off-balance (physically and mentally) from her assault on his person.

"Yes, well, I understand," she babbled, "and I suppose we're done here, thank you for helping me and everything. You can keep the books for a few more days, if you like..."

"Thank you," he said, automatically, though not without a hint of sarcasm.

They stood there for a minute before Severus, desperate not to endure more awkward silence, nodded a goodbye and Disapparated to Spinner's End.

No, he wasn't interested in her apologies, not at all, and she was a fool if she thought he was.

What he was interested in, as he had realized when he pulled his wand on Flourish, was her.