Chapter Two

Disclaimer: All characters you recognize are the brainchildren of J. K. Rowling. All brains and other original characters are my creations.

Chapter Two

Snape returned to the Brain Room Monday, more than an hour before his usual arrival time, looking ashen and wobbly, not unlike his appearance upon entering the lab on the previous Friday. He retired to his desk to review the notes on his most recent potion research. He had barely leafed through the last pages of his abused notebook when Brian piped up.

You're here rather early. Can I assume your weekend didn't go exactly as planned?

"That's an understatement," he said succinctly. He resumed studying his nearly illegible remarks – Does that call for coarsely chopped sneezeweed or snotgrass? – hoping Brian would drop the subject.

Do you want to talk about it?

"Not particularly," he drawled. "But I assume you won't let me work in peace until your curiosity is satisfied."

I'm just concerned about you, Severus. You don't look well. I think this driving business is too much pressure for you.

"Thank you, Brian, but I truly want to do this. I will do this," he insisted. "I just don't know how... yet." He wheeled his desk chair next to Brian's tank, then took a fortifying breath before relating his tale of woe.

"The weekend started off well. I thoroughly enjoyed my time spent at the Muggle bookstore-cum-cafe. I drank a caramel macchiato while skimming through Driving for Dummies. The book is not only informative but amusing – I almost laughed out loud many times. I took it home and read through it twice on Saturday, making sure I paid close attention to the etiquette of the road – it wouldn't do to be pulled over for a traffic offense or a breach of the Highway Code, although a discreetly aimed Obliviate would solve so many problems. I felt completely confident with the theoretical content, so I thought mastering the practical skills would be straightforward as well. I reserved Sunday for practice behind the wheel – that's a Muggle phrase for driving, by the way."

Thanks for explaining that.

"I woke up bright and early Sunday morning, and I purchased freshly baked pastries. I thought it might take more than a little cajoling for my neighbor, Mrs. O'Leary, to lend me her automobile, but she agreed with no hesitation, even offered to share the scones with me. Ah, if everything that day were so simple. Turned out that her car was an automatic – maybe the only one in all of Europe – but the book only covered instructions for cars with a gearstick.

"I assumed a transfiguration spell would solve that problem, but something went terribly wrong; the advanced electronics in the car must have interfered with the spell. So rather than change it into the manual version I'd read about, I accidentally..." Snape couldn't bring himself to finish the sentence.

Yes, yes, what happened? Tell me! Brian thought impatiently.

"Let's just say she won't be driving that anymore. I spent the remainder of the day concocting a viable lie to explain the 'missing' car to the widow O'Leary. She took the news rather well, I must say. I had rather enjoyed my new adventure – until yesterday, that is. That was one of the most morale-deflating experiences I've ever had."

You still need to learn the practical side of driving.

"Thanks for reminding me, Brian. I was so absorbed in self-pity I forgot about that. Oh, but wait, I scheduled windmill tilting for this evening, so the driving practice will have to wait."

You lost me there, Severus. Was that meant to be sarcasm?

"Yes, Brian. I'll explain the meaning another day. But the driving..." He hung his head and stared at his hands.

Don't give up yet, man. The school...

"Is expensive and time consuming. I can neither afford the high cost nor take time off for a week-long intensive course. And I doubt my other neighbors will let me borrow their cars after yesterday's fiasco. Frankly, I'm a bit nervous to proceed on my own now."

You should ask a coworker for help, then. There must be a half-blood or a Muggle-born in this department who knows how to drive.

Snape looked up and smiled at Brian, appreciating his encouragement. "You see the Ministry through rose-colored glasses, my friend, when in reality it's populated by more dunderheads than I had the misfortune to teach in all of my seventeen years at Hogwarts."

There must be someone you trust.

After prolonged moments of silence, he reluctantly admitted, "Yes. Granger."

However, he felt ambivalent about her. On one hand, he considered her to be his most annoying student... ever, but on the other hand, he begrudgingly respected her intellect and ability to think outside the box and on her feet, the very same qualities that made him the perfect recruit for the Department of Mysteries. Hell, not only were they departmental colleagues, they were in the same division, although she studied the effects of spells on the human brain while Snape specialized in potions.

"Given our history, I doubt she would agree to help me, but I might be able to convince her..."

Snape sought Hermione out in her office, far from the sensitive hearing of disembodied brains and curious coworkers. He found her hunched over her desk, absorbed in departmental paperwork, filling out a daily progress report which encrypted itself as soon as the ink dried. She didn't even look up to acknowledge his presence when he knocked sharply on the door frame.

"Granger, might I have a word with you please?" He cringed inwardly, hating to ask for assistance. Next time – if there were a next time – he would think twice before volunteering for a mission without knowing the details beforehand.

Hermione stopped her frantic scribbling only long enough to gesture with her quill at the chair in front of her desk. "I hope this isn't about the mysterious water rings on your lab desk. Instead of wasting your time with this grand inquisition, trying to find the culprit, you could apply a refinishing and protection charm on the wood surface."

He slid gracefully into the club chair and took a deep breath, trying to disguise his roiling insides with a cool façade. "This has nothing to do with that. But mark my words, I will find the responsible party, despite your reluctance to cooperate."

"Get to the point then," she insisted, still engrossed in her writing. "I'm leaving for the day as soon as I finish these forms."

"Teachmehowtodrive," he blurted out. There was simply no elegant way to beg.

She looked up and blinked a few times before a sly smile pulled at her lips. "Well, that is certainly blunt, no padding, greasing or sugarcoating of any sort. A man who doesn't resort to flattery or manipulation. How refreshingly un-Slytherin of you."

"Oh, I have no compunctions about using Slytherin techniques to get what I want," Snape said smoothly, regaining his composure in quick time.

"And what led you to the assumption that I know how to drive? Because I'm Muggle-born?"

He quickly quelled his first response – No, because you're an overachieving know-it-all – in favor of the more politically correct yes.

She stared into the distance, tapping her quill against her cheek, a pondering look on her face.

"I suppose this has to be done off the clock, in a hush-hush kind of way."

He smiled, an oily smile, the kind expected of used broom salesmen. "I would appreciate that immensely. Are you available to start today?" No use in playing coy at this point.

Her eyes focused on him again. "If you had been paying attention, Snape, you would know I haven't agreed to anything. Tell me, what's in this for me?" She leaned back in her chair, crossed her arms across her perfectly proportioned bosom, and assumed the smug countenance of one sitting comfortably in the catbird seat.

That once-in-a-lifetime grin evaporated to reveal his usual stony expression. "Frankly, I hadn't thought to offer you any compensation or favor in return. I planned to use extortion if the need arose." He was still blunt, yet honest in his answer.

She didn't flinch, twitch, or move one iota. "The answer is no then."

Snape applied a surreptitious balancing charm to his chair and mimicked Hermione's posture, going one step better and resting his feet on her desk. "Very well. And how will your Department of Mysteries colleagues – nay, the entire Ministry of Magic – react when your secret is revealed?"

"Ho, hum," she sighed dramatically. "You'll have to do better than that. I have nothing to hide."

"Oh, really?" he drawled. "Then why were you snogging Cormac McLaggen in Hammett's office at last year's Yule celebration? If you had nothing to hide, as you claim, why not allow him a public grope? Unless you were embarrassed..."

"Pfftt," she replied with a dismissive swish of her hand. "Nobody would care two whits about that. The more tantalizing secret is you... Love Potion... Umbridge... need I continue?"

"No, that's quite enough," he growled behind gritted teeth, immensely vexed that her blackmail trumped his. "What do you require?" At this point, he would have agreed to anything, even dressing up in Augusta Longbottom's Sunday best and having tea with Neville at Madam Puddifoot's, in order to gain Hermione's acquiescence.

"Well," she began, brows knit in concentration, "I don't know off the top of my head. Hmmm..." She turned her attention back to her paperwork, gnawing gingerly at her lower lip. Once finished, she signed it with a flourish, and the form immediately folded itself into a basic aeroplane and flew from the room, presumably heading toward Dougherty's in-box.

"Granger, I must remind you time is of the essence for me," he said, exasperated.

"I'll think about it and get back to you tomorrow. Can you see yourself out?" she asked brightly as she stood to leave.

"Wait!" he exclaimed, jumping up to stop her departure. He needed a quick plan of action to ensure her cooperation. "I can't believe I'm saying this," he muttered. "Granger, I'm offering you a favor to be specified at a future date."

She gasped with delight, and her eyes widened, pupils dilated to their limit – he could barely discern the iris with the poor lighting in her office. Snape feared the outlandish ideas forming in her head.

"Within reason, Granger. Don't let your imagination run too wild. I reserve the right of veto."

Hermione thrust her hand at him, and he gladly accepted it, shaking her hand firmly. "It's a deal. I'll meet you outside the visitors' entrance at five o'clock."

For one so experienced in reading the motivations behind facial expressions, Snape didn't know if Hermione's radiant grin mirrored her genuine excitement or concealed some heinous plan of revenge.