Chapter 5

All characters belong to J. K. Rowling.

Chapter 5

****

Hermione, after a rather disjointed sleep, awoke early on New Year's Day. Her mind had refused to switch itself off after the events of the night before. Events that, in the cold light of day, Hermione could hardly believe had happened, and she fully expected that Snape would be cursing himself for letting them happen.

Neither had spoken on the journey down from the Astronomy Tower; Snape had walked with her to her rooms, and with a quick "Goodnight," he had soon disappeared into the dark corridors.

As Hermione stood to view the leaden sky of the morning, she sighed heavily with concern. Would he be embarrassed by what happened? Would he act like it hadn't happened? Hermione sincerely hoped that he felt better for it...regardless of any supposed injured pride or dignity.

Looking at her clock, Hermione saw that it was nearly eight o'clock. Perhaps she could get a quick breakfast down her before she worried about facing him. The Great Hall would likely be quiet at this time, as it was unlikely that many of the teachers would be rising early after last night.

A short while later, after washing and dressing, Hermione made her way down to the Great Hall. The castle was indeed quiet, and Hermione met no one in the corridors. Reaching the staff door, Hermione entered the hall and immediately noticed the completely barren High Table. Then, she saw the single, large table situated where the House tables usually were, and remembered that this was the custom when the majority of students were absent.

Walking around the dais, Hermione had to stop herself from freezing in her tracks when she saw who was already at the table. Argus Filch sat at one end, mumbling and fawning over his cat, two young boys sat at the opposite end, and Severus Snape sat in the middle, in his usual Headmaster's chair.

Clearly, he'd had the same idea as her.

Hermione was of two minds. On the one hand, she wasn't sure she wanted to deal with him this early in the morning, and yet on the other hand, she could hardly turn around and breeze back out of the hall.

Resigned, she approached the table, unsure of where she should sit, eventually deciding that opposite him would be the best.

At her approach, Snape looked up and threw her off completely, when, with a movement of his head, indicated that she should sit down in the chair next to him.

'Good morning, sir,' said Hermione evenly.

'Is it?' was the low grumble in response.

Hermione said nothing, but looked askance at him. Her eyes were unwittingly drawn to the cravat tied around his neck, and she felt herself flush as she recalled how brazenly she'd accosted him last night.

Averting her gaze to the table, she noticed he had a full English in front of him, and Hermione fought not to grimace...she didn't have the appetite for that sort of thing today. Instead, she placed a couple of slices of toast on her plate and set about pouring some tea...anything to keep her hands busy and her mind off the uncomfortable silence that was permeating the air between them.

Several minutes passed and Hermione was growing increasingly tense. She'd imagined that he had had something to say to her when he'd offered the seat next to him, but nothing was forthcoming. Should she break the ice herself? Or maybe she could simply beat a hasty retreat? How long did she have to remain before she could leave without seeming rude?

Peripherally, Hermione was aware of him lowering his cutlery to his plate, and she thought, with anticipation, that maybe he was now going to venture into conversation. Alas, no...he was just reaching to put more sauce on his sausages.

Hermione took a hefty swig of her tea in annoyance.

The boys down the far end of the table were taking their leave, and Hermione decided she could not last any longer without speaking. 'Professor Snape–'

He raised his fork in protest, cutting her off immediately. 'A few more moments of peace if you don't mind, Professor.'

Hermione raised her eyebrows and turned her attention back to her plate. Peace? Oh, he found her annoying, did he? She had half a mind to get up and leave him to his peace, but again, something else was keeping her there.

At length, she felt his eyes on her and she looked at him defiantly. He pushed his plate away with a sigh. 'In the space of a few words I've, somehow, managed to offend you, have I not?'

Hermione was a little surprised. 'How do you work that one out?'

'Well, by the way you were trying to bore holes through the table with your eyes, not to mention your rather accusatory expression on your face when you looked at me...I can't imagine why.'

Hermione couldn't help but soften at his tone, not quite as infused with disinterest as he often affected. 'Just wondering if I should leave you to your peace, Professor,' answered Hermione, with a flippant quirk of her lips.

'I see,' replied Snape. 'Well, I actually... Ah, it doesn't matter now; we both know there is something else we should be discussing.'

Hermione nodded, suddenly unable to look at him.

'I hope that you have not, or indeed, intend not to tell anyone about what... happened?'

Hermione turned to him, completely astonished that he would think she would blab to all and sundry. Now, that really did offend her. Snape, she saw, was tracing his finger around the rim of his mug, avoiding her gaze.

'Oh dear! I'd better recall that owl I sent to the Daily Prophet then, hadn't I?'

His eyes flashed at her, but Hermione stared back resolutely.

'Of course I haven't bloody told anyone! What on earth do you take me for?' she hissed at him.

Snape scowled at her deeply. 'There are many who would love to get their hands on a scoop like that, Professor!'

'Well, thank you for your charming assessment of my character, Professor Snape!' stated Hermione, with an incredulous laugh. She immediately pushed her chair back with a satisfying screech and made to leave. A hand on her arm arrested her movements, and she remained seated. Snape removed his hand and stared into his mug.

'I apologise,' he began stiffly, 'I just...'

Hermione could sense how uncomfortable he was, and her bluster deflated quite suddenly. 'Look, you don't have to worry about it, sir; no one will ever find out anything from me.'

He nodded silently, and Hermione exhaled slowly in relief.

'I will hold you to that, Professor.'

No doubt, she thought.

'You know, after everything, it seems silly for you not to address me by my name... everyone else does.'

Hermione couldn't help the wide smile that spread across her face, nor, indeed, the small blush.

'I would be happy to... Severus.' It would take some getting used to, but Hermione loved saying it already.

'I may presume to...?'

'Oh yes, of course!'

Their attentions were momentarily distracted as Minerva entered the hall, and headed directly towards them.

'Indeed; Hermione it is, then,' murmured Snape, turning his eyes back onto her.

'Severus! What a surprise to see you at breakfast; well, bless me, to see you at all! I thought I was going to have to drag you out of that tower today. Good morning, Hermione!' finished Minerva as she seated herself the other side of Snape.

'Yes, well, as you can plainly see there will be no need for you get violent, Minerva,' goaded Snape.

'"Violent", Severus? I'll have you know...'

Hermione tuned out their bickering with ease; Snape's use of her first name was still ringing pleasantly in her ears.

****

On reflection, Hermione decided that that night on the Astronomy Tower, and their shared exchange the following morning, represented a change in the relationship between herself and the Headmaster.

Well, relationship was perhaps overstating the matter, but Hermione now felt that there was an understanding between them that marked their interactions differently.

For her own part, Hermione felt that Snape was finally beginning to see her on par with the rest of his staff, and not merely as an ex-student or Harry Potter's friend. In turn, she felt less edgy and self-conscious around him, less like she had as a student, and more as a colleague on equal footing; well, as equal as it could be with him still being her superior.

That night on the tower, he had become so utterly human to her, so removed from his often sneeringly aloof demeanour that Hermione could not deny to herself that she wanted to see more. However unwillingly, and however reluctantly, Snape had shared a part of himself with her, and Hermione could not help but fancy that it might be the tie from which a tentative friendship could form.

Maybe she was being silly and fanciful, but it warmed her to think of it, and Hermione was determined to build upon their shared experience.

****

'Good afternoon, Professor Snape,' breezed Hermione as she entered his potions workroom.

The man in question glanced up from the array of cauldrons he had on the go. 'Hermione,' he greeted briefly, before turning his attention back to his work.

Hermione made for the back of the room and her usual table to set up her equipment, unfazed by the apparent lack of enthusiasm from her companion...he hardly ever spoke much during these sessions, his attentions required elsewhere.

From what Hermione could see, he appeared rather busier than usual, with several cauldrons bubbling away with Pepper-up Potion. The students would be returning to the castle tomorrow, no doubt bringing with them all manner of colds and coughs.

Hermione opened her textbook to the page of instructions for a Wiggenweld Potion and set about preparing the ingredients, with a bit of trepidation. It was a very difficult potion to make, and Hermione was not sure she would get it right on her first attempt. How she wished this was one she could brew on her own, but the mixture had the potential to become volatile if not brewed properly, and she was aware of Snape's gaze flicking to her every now and again.

Not ten minutes into the brewing process, her cauldron began to smoke and splutter. Before she could even register it, Snape had Banished the concoction from across the room.

'Your Ragwort was chopped too finely...a classic mistake when first brewing this potion.'

His tone was matter of fact, and Hermione tried to ignore the stab of wounded pride she felt at succumbing to such a pitfall. She collected more ingredients with a sigh, annoyed that the instructions were not more specific; when exactly did 'finely' become 'too finely'?

Hermione began anew, and to her infinite relief, progressed past the Ragwort stage without major incident. She'd even successfully negotiated the particularly tense stage where she'd had to sieve in powdered horn of Bicorn, and pour in Armadillo bile simultaneously. Now, all she had to do was stir the potion to a thick consistency, to ensure a deep shade of red, and then it would be complete.

Hermione stirred, and stirred, but the mixture refused to thicken.

'Oh for the love of...' muttered Hermione in frustration as she peered over her cauldron. The heat was beginning to fluster her, and she took a deep breath to calm her frazzled nerves. There was no way she was failing after getting so close to the finishing line, despite the persistent ache in her stirring arm.

To make things worse, she could sense Snape was watching her. Gritting her teeth, she looked to see him arranging his conical flasks in front of him, ready to decant his potions.

Was he going to make her ask?

Giving her potion another few furious stirs, Hermione admitted defeat. 'I... can't get it to thicken,' she ground out eventually.

'Oh?' Was the offhand response.

Hermione narrowed her eyes at him as he slowly crossed the room, his hands clasped behind his back. She didn't know what she would do if he made her start again. He inspected her cauldron impassively, and Hermione held her breath.

'Seeing as you have caught me in a particularly magnanimous mood...'

He quirked an eyebrow in her direction and then reached to alter the flame on the heat under her cauldron. Taking the stirring rod from her, he began stirring more slowly and in an alternating clockwise and anti-clockwise fashion.

Hermione watched the potion thicken before her eyes.

'Yay for magnanimity, I suppose,' said Hermione in a disgruntled voice of resignation. She flopped heavily onto her stool, brushing strands of her hair out of her face. 'Severus, why on earth don't you write your own Potions textbook? Libatius bloody Borage gets on my nerves sometimes!'

Snape gave a short chuckle. 'There is nothing wrong with Borage's method; however, clearly one of any number of variables in your potion was not quite right, not so much as to ruin the potion irrevocably, but enough to cause you some difficulty. What Borage doesn't tell you is how to rectify your mistakes, and indeed, when they are rectifiable; neither should he, otherwise where would the challenge be?'

Hermione could not dispute such reason. 'Still, I don't suppose you annotated your seventh-year text and have it lying around somewhere?'

'I think not,' replied Snape dryly.

Hermione laughed.

'Come, clear your stuff away and make yourself useful by helping me take these potions to the Infirmary.'

'By the way, Severus,' began Hermione as she started clearing away her mess. 'I've finished my report for the Muggle Studies curriculum.'

'Do you have it with you?'

'Yes.'

'All right, you may leave it on my desk,' he said as he put stoppers in each flask of potion. 'I will look over it in due course, and then we shall discuss it further before I meet with the Governors.'

Hermione reached into her bag and pulled out the sheaf of parchment that she'd spent an inordinate amount of time on. She thought she'd done a good job, even if she said so herself, but there was still a nagging doubt in her mind that she'd fall short of Snape's notoriously high standards.

Hermione moved towards the desk and placed the report down resolutely; she'd done her best, and that would have to be enough.

****

'No, Mr. Cripps,' sighed Hermione long-sufferingly, 'Muggles in Britain are no longer beheaded for crimes; neither are they hung, drawn or quartered.'

She was beginning to regret giving her third years reading on traditional Muggle events in the calendar. They'd been particularly taken with the story behind Bonfire Night and relished the gory details of the demise of Guy Fawkes and his gang.

'Perhaps we can move onto the other readings I set for you. Who can tell me about patron saint days? Who is the patron saint of Scotland, for instance?'

Hermione looked expectantly at the display of faces before her. A hand rose up slowly. 'Yes, Mr. Powell?'

'Did they really stick Guy Fawkes' head on a pike outside Parliament as a warning, Professor?'

Hermione rolled her eyes good-naturedly. 'Enough! Not one more word about Guy Fawkes or points will be lost!'

A short while later, Hermione entered the staff room, relieved to have the afternoon off. Minerva was sitting by the fire marking some essays.

'How are you, my dear?' she enquired as Hermione took the chair opposite her.

'Fine, thank you; I just, unwittingly, got my third years fascinated with historical Muggle barbarity. Things only got worse when some bright spark piped up about the French use of the Guillotine.'

'Lovely,' said Minerva dryly, 'but that's children for you.'

Hermione nodded in agreement. 'One boy even went so far as to ask if I could bring in some Muggle stocks for the next lesson, so we could have a practical example!'

Minerva gave a hearty laugh at this. 'Now, there are times when I could cheerfully put some pupils in the stocks, I can tell you!'

'No doubt,' replied Hermione, with a knowing smile.

The door opened then and Hermione watched as Snape entered the room and poured himself a cup of tea. He was wearing a thick cloak, and a long scarf hung loose about his shoulders.

Seeing that Minerva's attention was back on her marking, Hermione took the opportunity to join Snape at the other end of the room.

'Off anywhere nice, Severus?' she asked, trying to keep the curiosity in her tone to a minimum.

'I need to collect some ingredients...plant cuttings mostly; Pomona needs fresh ones to replenish the greenhouses.'

Oh. Hermione had thought he might be off to the Ministry or something, but now, she was intrigued.

She fiddled with the sugar bowl absent-mindedly.

'Sounds interesting; where do you go...the Forbidden Forest?'

He swallowed some of his tea before answering, somewhat evasively, as if he knew her interest had been irretrievably piqued by the academic venture.

'Sometimes...but not today.'

'I see,' replied Hermione, not pressing the matter. She didn't want to give him the satisfaction of knowing how much she would love to join him...it would be practical fieldwork for her Herbology N.E.W.T. if nothing else!

'Well, I have some marking to see to, so I'll see you later, perhaps?'

'Indeed.'

Hermione felt disappointed that he hadn't asked her to join him, but then, why on earth should he? She turned to leave, half debating whether to just simply ask him herself, when she became aware of a few low chuckles.

'What are you laughing at?' asked Hermione in surprise.

Snape set down his mug in the sink and began wrapping his scarf closely around his neck. 'You,' he said simply.

Hermione immediately bristled. 'Why?'

'You never miss an opportunity to learn, do you?'

'Is this your roundabout way of calling me a know-it-all again?' demanded Hermione with a frown.

Minerva, who had risen to leave the room, had heard part of their exchange and stopped briefly. 'Hermione, it takes one to know one. Severus, here, is the biggest know-it-all I've ever met.'

Hermione was amused to see Snape close his eyes with a pained sigh. 'Thank you for your input, Minerva; wherever would we be without your witty observations?'

Minerva merely gave an ironic pat to his arm and left the room.

'If you wish to join me, then you may.'

His voice was flat, as if he couldn't care less either way, and Hermione was tempted to spite him by declining, but then, she wondered if perhaps he really did want her to come...otherwise why would he ask?

Besides, Hermione could not, in good conscience, stick two fingers up at such an opportunity.

'I shall, thank you; feeling magnanimous again, are we?'

'Well, I am known for it.'

Hermione scoffed loudly.

'Your scepticism wounds me.'

He said it so seriously that Hermione wondered for a quick moment if she really had. However, he brushed past her and picked up a large, leather bag from a nearby chair.

'Actually, I could do with someone to hold the bag,' he said with a languid smirk.

That is more like it, thought Hermione.

'How ever shall I cope with such responsibility?'

Snape merely pulled out his pocket watch. 'Go and get your cloak and some appropriate footwear, then meet me in the Entrance Hall. You have ten minutes...otherwise I'm off.'

With only two minutes to spare, Hermione was in the Entrance Hall clad in her thickest cloak and sturdiest boots.

'Ready, Professor?' said a deep voice behind her.

Hermione nodded and they made their way out into the cold January air to the Apparition point.

'Where are we off to, then?'

'First stop is south Wales, a place called Kenfig Burrows.'

'Sand dunes?' asked Hermione, looking up at the man beside her.

'Indeed, have you ever been there?'

'No, I have not.'

'I will Apparate us, then.'

With that, he offered his arm for Hermione to take. A split second later, she found herself behind a grey, stone building. She followed Snape around it to confront an impressive expanse of sand dunes and vegetation.

'Some of them are massive!'

Snape looked down at her with a smirk. 'I'm afraid we have to negotiate them to get to the beginning of the dunes; we cannot risk Apparating in case there are Muggles about.'

He pulled out a tiny object from deep inside his cloak and enlarged it to reveal the leather bag. He held it out to her expectantly. 'There, you may do the honours.'

'Thanks,' deadpanned Hermione as she slung it over shoulder.

'My pleasure, I assure you. Let us get going, then.'

Hermione made a face at his back as she followed him onto one of the many paths that crisscrossed the dunes towards the sea. She was exceedingly grateful as they made their way through the undergrowth that she'd heeded Snape's advice about footwear...sand in one's shoe was not a pleasant experience.

A band of dunes loomed large ahead, and Hermione was already having trouble keeping up with Snape's pace. Trudging through the sand, up and over the large dunes whilst the wind gusted around them proved no easy business, for Hermione at least, who was beginning to feel slightly puffed. Snape, however, was striding along with perfect ease.

Eventually, as they neared the sea, the dunes began to get smaller and Hermione caught up with the man in front.

'So, what is so special about this place? There must be loads of other sand dunes nearer home than this?'

'Indeed, there are,' replied Snape, 'but this is one of the largest and most active dune systems in Europe. It is also a place that, historically, has important magical significance. See the remnants of that castle in the distance? Buried underneath is the remains of a medieval village; of course, the Muggles have no idea it was a magical community.'

'I see,' commented Hermione, with interest.

'I can get a good many plant species here, and significantly, Kenfig has a high proportion of the rare Fen orchid, a very versatile and potent ingredient in potions, as no doubt you are aware.'

They'd reached the edge of the dunes, and Hermione stood looking at the churning waves for a moment, before turning her attention back to the matter at hand.

The wind was fiercer here, and she grimaced at the sand and spray being whipped up about her.

'Right; there should be some Sea Holly and Saltwort around here...put a Stasis charm on each beaker as you hand it to me, and then place them carefully in the bag.'

Snape knelt down, and Hermione watched as he began gently taking cuttings.

'There may no longer be a magical settlement here, but the Muggles, in their own way, have recognised the importance of this area and protect it quite adequately. They have designated it what they call an 'S.S.S.I.'.'

Hermione's eyes widened and she stared down at her companion in surprise. 'Severus! You mean this is a Site of Special Scientific Interest and we're nicking the plants! What if someone notices us emasculating their bloody Fen orchids?'

Snape rose slowly and placed the beaker inside the bag, while fixing Hermione with an impatient glare. 'Relax, will you? It's not as if I'm waltzing through here ripping up whatever plants I see fit! I've been taking cuttings from here for years and the Muggles are none the wiser. Besides, take a look around you, the place is deserted at this time of the year.'

'Except for that woman walking her dog, over there.'

Snape turned to view the woman who was approaching in their direction. He looked at Hermione, unfazed.

'We are just two walkers enjoying the view.'

'In admittedly odd clothing,' added Hermione silently.

'Come on, let's go over there; I see some Saltwort.'

Hermione complied and followed behind him. The woman up ahead was on the same path and they would have to pass.

'Good afternoon,' offered the woman politely as she stepped to one side, allowing them to pass.

Hermione flinched as she witnessed the rather alluring look the unknown woman flashed at the man beside her. 'Afternoon,' she choked out, trying to recover herself.

Snape was silent and indeed, hadn't seemed to notice anything out of the ordinary. Hermione risked a glance behind and glowered at the receding figure of the woman, her hair flowing out sleekly behind her.

She looked once more at Snape, and tried to imagine what it was that had attracted the woman. There was no denying that he cut an impressive figure, tall and forbidding; or maybe it was the dark, almost raggedly, long hair?

Hermione wasn't sure why she was so bothered; hadn't she herself admitted an attraction as well? Surely, it was good to know she wasn't the only one who saw anything in his rather singular looks?

Moreover, they would never see that woman again, and well, if she did turn up again today, Hermione always had her wand handy. She shook herself mentally; jealousy had never been a good look on her and this was completely and utterly irrational at best.

After collecting Saltwort, Ragwort and Sand Sedge cuttings, Snape led Hermione into one of the dune slacks and instructed her to look closely for the orchid, as the plant was not in flower and therefore more difficult to spot.

Eventually, they located it, and Snape collected several cuttings, much to Hermione's consternation, and they began the climb back over the dunes once more.

Hermione stumbled once or twice in the sand, and when the third time she had to reach out for Snape's arm to steady herself, she huffed in annoyance.

'Can't we just Apparate from here? There's no one about.'

Snape deliberated for a moment before nodding tersely. 'Hold on, then.'

Hermione opened her eyes and saw she was standing on a grassy mountaintop, literally in the middle of nowhere.

'Where are we now?' she ventured, taking in the complete emptiness of the place.

'Northern England,' Snape answered, 'in the Peak District, lots of Alpine Pennycress and Spring Sandwort around here. There's the sandwort on that rocky outcrop.'

Hermione moved in the direction he was pointing and came to a ridge...there was a significant drop between them and the sandwort.

'How on earth do we get over there? We didn't bring any brooms.'

'Don't worry; you are staying here and I will be going to get it. Prepare a beaker for me.'

'How are you...oh my God!' shrieked Hermione and covered her eyes with her hands, unable to breathe.

Had he really just jumped off the edge?

Hermione parted her fingers and, breathing shallowly, looked across the small valley. She lowered her hands in relief when she saw he was balanced on the ledge with the plant, and not lying broken on the ground below.

She couldn't help but look away when he, well, flew back over to her...it made her nervous.

'What the hell was that, Severus? I nearly had a heart attack!'

Snape looked at her with casually raised eyebrows as he took the beaker off her. 'Oh, didn't you know I could fly?'

Hermione was amazed he could be so flippant about such a skill. 'No, I did not!'

'I thought Potter might have mentioned it.'

'Funnily enough, your aviation skills have never featured in our conversations.'

'Well, now you know,' shrugged Snape unconcerned.

Hermione still couldn't believe that he'd just jumped straight off... She shivered violently.

'You don't like flying?'

'No,' sighed Hermione. 'I'm no good on a broom, and the thought of flying with nothing even to hold on to... Let's just say I prefer to keep my feet firmly on the ground.'

After collecting a few other plant specimens, without incident, they Apparated back to Hogwarts just as the last lessons of the day would be finishing. Hermione felt a bit tired and extremely windswept. Her hair was sticking out everywhere, probably riddled with sand, and her cheeks would no doubt be red for several days if she didn't thaw out soon. Snape, Hermione noticed, seemed annoyingly unruffled.

'Thank you for taking me along, Severus,' said Hermione as she handed him the leather bag.

'You were not entirely bothersome.'

Hermione smiled. 'That is good to know. See you at dinner, then.'

He inclined his head and walked off in the direction of the greenhouses.

As soon as she reached her rooms Hermione began running a bath, looking forward to a long relaxing soak. She sat down on her bed and thought back over the day she'd had. She still marvelled over the fact that Snape could fly. It occurred to Hermione, then that it was probably Voldemort who had taught him how to do it – it was an extremely uncommon skill after all – and while it was not exactly Dark magic, it was powerful magic, and indeed, that was dangerous enough in itself. What other magic did Snape know? What else was he capable of?

For the first time, Hermione wondered if she should be put off by the fact that Snape, Voldermort's formerly most trusted ally, had the potential to be a very dangerous man. These thoughts were superfluous though, she wasn't put off, in fact, if anything, he appealed to her more because she knew that despite whatever potential he possessed, he was a good man and, well, she liked him...it was as simple and as complicated as that.

****

AN: Thanks to Astopperindeath for her efficient beta-ing: )