The Nitty-Gritty

Disclaimer: Not my characters they belong to JKR. Thank you for letting me borrow them.

11

“Tested? On whom?” she asked indignantly. “It’s not like you’re going to take it.” She paused and folded her arms over her chest. “And I absolutely refuse to give it to a house-elf!”

“A house-elf.” He snorted. “It would have no effect on a house-elf. It’s not the least bit compatible with their biological make-up. Here I thought you were an expert on house-elves, Ms Granger,” he said snidely.

Her hands flew to her hips, but before she could begin to argue, he continued, “No, I will be taking this,” he held up the small vial to the light, “myself.”

12

“You?” she asked, shocked. Her hand flew to her mouth suppressing a giggle, and she lowered her eyes to the floor.

He scowled. This was never going to work.

Tossing the corked vial carelessly on his desk and standing to his full height, he looked down at his apprentice. “Ms Granger, do you find this amusing? Why should I not be the one to test your potion? After all, it is my signature that will be gracing the parchment heralding you a Potions Mistress.”

“I’m sorry, sir.” She looked up at him, a cunning glint in her eyes.

He gulped.

13

She held his gaze, her expression blank except for the twinkling in her eyes.

He was suddenly reminded of Albus.

Shit!

There were so many questions with which to torment him; he only hoped she would use this opportunity to ask him the right ones.

Taking a deep breath, he forged on. “You will be allowed to ask me three questions, and only three. After answering the allotted number, I will immediately take the Veritaserum antidote.” He paused, gathering his courage while looking pointedly into her eyes. “And I do hope, Ms Gran—Hermione, that you choose your questions wisely.”

14

He sat down heavily in his chair and reached across the desk for the vial.

“Sir, wait. I have a few questions to ask first,” she said, placing her small hand upon his.

Of course she does. He swallowed hard and snatched his hand away. “Well? Get on with it.”

She leaned forward in her chair a little too eagerly. “You’re saying that I may ask any three questions that I want?”

“Yes, anything you wish.”

“And nothing I ask will be held against me, even if I were to make you angry?”

He merely nodded and glared at her.

15

“So I could ask about your experiences as a Death Eater.” She stood and began pacing nervously. “Or ask if you still harbored feelings for Harry’s mum. You’d willingly answer without seeking retribution later?”

“Ms Granger, I have already stated—”

“And if I were to ask if it’s a charm that makes your robes billow like they do, or perhaps whether you prefer wearing boxers, briefs or going commando? Even those types of questions are allowed?”

“Ms Granger!” he sputtered, color rising to his cheeks. “Are you finished? You've three questions; you may squander them any way you wish.”

16

He grabbed the serum, uncorking and swallowing before she could interrupt again, or worse—before he could change his mind.

Overhearing her conversation with Potter, he had anticipated she would take advantage of such an unusual situation—there were those who would pay large amounts of money to question him under the influence of Veritaserum. He was willingly setting himself up for humiliation, and she wanted to know about his underwear?

Unless he had misunderstood.

He gulped.

Hermione Granger had turned him into a love-sick fool.

Allowing his lank hair to hide his face, he muttered for her to begin.

17

She didn’t hesitate. “Do I pass?”

He looked up, surprised at her bluntness, and said, “Yes, Ms Granger, your perpetual need for overachievement has paid off. You have passed with top marks. Did you honestly think you wouldn’t?”

Leaning forward slightly, he continued, “You are a brilliant woman, Hermione, one who could accomplish anything. Why you wished to study Potions with me has had me utterly baffled for the past three years.

“Now all that remains is for me to sign your certificate and send it to the Ministry. You’re no longer my apprentice, Mistress Granger. You are my equal.”

18

He watched the emotions flit across her face: joy, pride… confusion.

“Equal! How could I ever be considered as—” She quickly snapped her mouth closed and narrowed her eyes. She stared at him for a long moment before quietly saying, more to herself than him, “No, I won’t waste a question like that.”

He took the certificate from his desk and signed the parchment without a word. Snapping his long fingers, the large crow that was his familiar leapt down from its nearby perch. Tying the scroll to the bird’s leg, he murmured, “Ministry,” and the crow flew away.

19

Hermione resumed her pacing, all the while chewing her lip and worrying the hem of her shirt. He used his time to study her. Memorizing each curve on the chance she would be gone by the evening. He had learned long ago to never hope for the best. Luck was not his friend.

Her expression changed suddenly, as did her demeanor, and she walked confidently back to his desk.

She leaned toward him, brushing his hair back behind his ears. “Forgive me for being so forward, but I want to see your eyes as I ask you my next question.”

20

Her breath, sweet on his face, and the sensation of her smooth fingers as they brushed against his temples almost undid him. He longed to take her in his arms and kiss her passionately, never to release her. Instead, he gulped audibly. She was in control, and being the terrible coward that he was, he would follow her lead.

“So,” she began smugly. ‘Why would you, a consummate Slytherin, relinquish your carefully crafted self-control and allow me, your lowly apprentice, the opportunity to ask of you any three questions I choose without restriction?” She smirked down at him, looking pleased.

A/N: Thanks to all my LJ friends that supplied me with questions to ask Severus. I tried to use as many as I could!