Chaste Life

A/N: Happy Easter to those of you who are Christian, Happy Spring to the rest. :) I'm slowly catching up on answering my reviews, so please keep them coming! I'm very much looking forward to hearing what you think of this chapter.

LB x

The little Love-god lying once asleep

Laid by his side his heart-inflaming brand,

Whilst many nymphs, that vowed chaste life to keep,

Came tripping by; but in her maiden hand

The fairest votary took up that fire,

Which many legions of true hearts had warmed,

And so the general of hot desire

Was, sleeping, by a virgin hand disarmed.

This brand she quenched in a cold well by,

Which from love's fire took heat perpetual,

Growing a bath and healthful remedy

For men diseased; but I, my mistress' thrall,

Came there for cure, and this by that I prove

Love's fire heats water; water cools not love.

***

Hermione wasn't sure what she'd expected to happen when she walked through the doors of the Great Hall on Severus's arm: a collective gasp, perhaps, or the silent, disapproving stare of everyone at the party. But their entrance was something of an anti-climax: the Hall was packed with well-wishers, and only one or two of the gathered throng turned to inspect the newcomers.

Within seconds, she had spotted many of her friends: Neville and Hannah were chatting to Pomona Sprout; Ernie Macmillan was talking animatedly with Horace Slughorn; and Harry, who hadn't even mentioned that he'd been invited, was looking uncomfortable under the adoring gaze of the current Head Girl. Hermione felt a little silly for having coerced Severus into attending the party with her, considering so many of her friends were here.

"Not quite the scandalous entrance you'd feared, Hermione," Severus whispered with a smirk.

She gave him a tentative smile. "Not quite," she agreed, "although Minerva looks a little shocked."

He glanced at the Headmistress, who was hurrying towards them from the opposite end of the Hall. "I suspect that's because we've arrived together, not because your spouse is absent."

"Do you think so?" she asked, embarrassed.

"Of course. You might have been my brightest student, but you certainly weren't my favourite."

She beamed. "Was I really your brightest student?"

He rolled his eyes. "Yes, you were. I'm sure you're perfectly well aware of that fact."

"So, who was your favourite?"

"I didn't have a favourite," he said.

"Apart from the Slytherins."

He ignored this last and nodded at Minerva McGonagall. "Good evening, Minerva."

"Good evening, Severus," she replied, laying a welcoming hand on his free arm. She turned to Hermione.

"Hermione, it's good to see you," she whispered.

Severus finally relinquished Hermione's arm, and she shook the older woman's hand.

Minerva looked from one to the other. "I had not expected you to attend together," she said, her curiosity plain to see.

Hermione felt Severus stiffen beside her. "I bullied Severus into escorting me," she explained. "I was nervous about attending alone."

Her remark had the desired effect: Minerva's expression changed from one of curiosity to one of sympathy. She gave Hermione's hand a reassuring pat. "I was sorry to hear about your separation, dear. I was surprised to hear you'd left the Department of Mysteries, however."

Hermione shrugged. "I wasn't happy there, and Severus kindly offered me a position in his laboratory."

Minerva turned to peer at Severus over her glasses. "I see. Well, you obviously haven't murdered one another quite yet. Is Cordelia unable to join us tonight, Severus?"

"She's visiting relations in the Netherlands," he said.

"She seems to be suffering from wanderlust almost as much as her son. I don't think either of them will win spouse of the year," Minerva said with a scowl. "Now, help yourselves to some refreshments. Perhaps I will see you both a little later." She left them and headed for the doors.

Hermione turned to Severus, her eyes wide. "I can't believe she just said that!"

"Minerva has never been fond of Cordelia; I believe they had a clash of personalities while Cordelia was Head Girl."

"Cordelia was Head Girl? Were you still at school then, or had you left?"

Severus gave a curt laugh. "I was only in my third year. Cordelia is almost four years my senior. You presumed I was the elder?"

She immediately coloured. "No, not at all. I just ... I hadn't given it any thought, that's all. I didn't mean to suggest you look older than she does or anything ..."

He smirked. "That's quite all right, Hermione." He gestured to the refreshment tables. "Would you care for a drink?"

She sighed. "Yes, I think I need one."

They made for the laden refreshments table at the centre of the hall, and she gave Neville a brief wave; he gave her a solemn nod in return. Severus followed the direction of her gaze. "It must be quite a big occasion for Mr Longbottom," he said, handing her a glass of champagne.

"Yes," Hermione agreed, watching Neville and Hannah from across the room. "He officially becomes Professor of Herbology tonight. One would expect him to look a little happier."

"Indeed," Severus concurred, looking in the same direction. "One would expect them both to look happier." He dropped his voice to a whisper. "Why did he offer for you at Belgrave House?"

She was surprised he'd asked. "I don't think he knew what else to do: he didn't want to get married, and we'd always been friends. I think he saw it as an easy way out. He wasn't at all upset when I refused." She returned her gaze to Severus. "He's had a difficult life, Neville. He's had feelings for somebody else for quite some time, but she's abroad, and he feels he has to stay in Britain to take care of his parents."

Severus raised an eyebrow. "Luna Lovegood?"

"Yes. How did you know?"

"A lucky guess. I was aware they'd become friends during my final years here."

"You won't say anything, will you? I'd hate for Hannah's feelings to be hurt."

"Am I not always the very soul of discretion?" he asked.

"I suppose you are," she agreed. She was glad to see him drain his glass of red wine: he was always more talkative when he'd been drinking.

Severus suddenly turned to her with a deep frown. "Quickly," he said, taking her by the elbow. "We need to escape."

But over his shoulder came the huge, bespectacled eyes of Sybill Trelawney. "Severus Snape!" she cried, grasping him by the arm. "I knew you would return tonight!"

He detached her hand and looked at her with distaste. "Well foreseen, Sybill. Hardly a feat worthy of praise: practically all members of staff past and present are here this evening."

"Yes, but while gazing into the future this very morning I saw a dark and dangerous figure. I knew it must be you!"

Severus gave a dramatic roll of his eyes, and Hermione giggled into her champagne. "And what does the future have in store for me, Sybill? Let me guess ... I am in grave danger?"

Trelawney looked from left to right and lowered her voice to a stage whisper. "Danger of a sort, dear boy. The spirits have said you will find a wife within the year!"

Hermione couldn't help herself: she guffawed, drawing a glare from the Divination professor.

Severus gave a snort. "Sybill, I've been married for the last six years, and my wife remains alive and well."

Trelawney recoiled from him, looking confused. "You are married?" she asked in disbelief.

Hermione was almost crying with laughter.

Severus shook his head. "Hard as that may be to believe, yes, I am married. You recall the Marriage Act, Sybill? The very reason you are currently wed to Martin Mimbleton?"

She looked lost for a moment. "Yes, I recall it now. Was that only six years ago?" She turned her huge, magnified eyes to Hermione. "Is this your wife?"

Hermione, who had been in the process of swallowing a mouthful of champagne, inhaled it and started to cough.

"Merlin give me patience," Severus muttered. "No, this is not my wife. This is your former student and Head Girl, Hermione Granger."

Trelawney peered more intently at Hermione. "It's you!" she spat, extending a bejewelled finger. "That book-obsessed Gryffindor!"

Hermione started to giggle again.

Severus looked around and spotted Neville's grandmother. "Sybill, Augusta Longbottom remarked to me last week how very much she was looking forward to having her palm read this evening."

The Divination professor immediately made a beeline for the old woman, mumbling to herself as she went.

Hermione grinned. "Severus Snape, that was so mean. Poor Mrs Longbottom!"

"It was an urgent matter of self-preservation," he said, refilling her champagne glass. "Now, I must have a quick word with Horace." He looked across the Hall at Harry, who was still squirming beneath the worshipful attentions of the Head Girl. "I believe Mr Potter is in dire need of assistance, Hermione."

She laughed. "Yes, I do believe he is; I'd better go and rescue him. I'll see you later."

She walked away from him, aware that his gaze followed her across the vast room.

"Hello, Harry," she said, flashing the Head Girl an apologetic glance. "Could I have a word, please? In private?"

"Hermione! Yes, of course." He gave a brief wave to the now-pouting Head Girl and dragged Hermione to a quieter spot in the crowded room.

"She was driving me mad," he hissed. "She kept fluttering her eyelashes at me in this really pathetic way!"

Hermione chuckled. "That's what happens when you make it onto Witch Weekly's 'Ten Most Kissable Wizards' list."

"Ten most kissable wizards?" Harry fell silent for a moment. "Where did I come on the list?"

"Third," she replied.

He gave her a silly grin. "Not bad. Not bad at all. Who came first and second?"

"That Irish Quidditch player came first, Conor Ryan, and Kingsley Shacklebolt came second."

Harry looked pleased.

Hermione frowned. "Where's Ginny? And why didn't you tell me you were invited?"

"I get invited to everything," Harry said, looking bored. "The price of fame and all that. I would have told you if I'd known you were invited, too. Why were you invited?"

Hermione shrugged. "I see Ernie is here, and he was Head Boy, so it must be because I was Head Girl. What about Ginny?"

"She's at home with James," Harry said, looking at the floor. "Couldn't get a babysitter."

Hermione peered at him, suspicious. "All those Weasleys, and you couldn't get a sitter?"

"I knew you'd ferret it out of me if I tried to lie," Harry said with a sigh. "She's pregnant," he whispered, "and she's not feeling very well."

Hermione beamed. "That's wonderful news! I'll come and visit next weekend; I can bring her some of Severus' nausea potion...it really works, and it's completely safe for pregnant witches."

"She'd like that. Ron and Rose are expecting a baby, too."

Hermione tried not to let her smile falter. "My goodness, Molly's going to have a lot of knitting to do!"

"She certainly is," he agreed. He gazed across the room to Severus and Horace Slughorn. "Did I see you come in with Snape?"

"Yes. I talked him into escorting me: I thought I'd feel a bit conspicuous coming in without Theo, but now I feel silly for being so bloody needy."

Harry shrugged. "He didn't look like he minded, particularly. What were the two of you giggling about?"

She smiled. "Oh, just something Trelawney said. She's bats, that woman. And maybe I was giggling, but I'm sure Severus was just smirking. I can't quite imagine him giggling."

"No. I can't imagine it, either. How are you getting along in work?"

"Really, really well. I love my job. If someone had told me two years ago that I'd be working for Severus Snape and actually enjoying it, I would have thought they'd been Confounded."

Harry looked at her curiously. "You like him, don't you? You've actually forgiven him for all the horrible things he said to you in school."

She cocked her head to the side. "In fairness, he had a fair amount to forgive too, Harry. Haven't you forgiven him for the things he said and did?"

Harry watched Severus and finally nodded. "Yes, I suppose I have. Right, I better congratulate Neville and Professor Sprout and get back home. Ginny was looking green when I left. I'll see you next weekend."

He left her with a small wave and went to speak to Neville and Hannah. Hermione automatically sought out Severus: he was still deep in conversation with Horace Slughorn, but caught her eye and gave her an almost imperceptible nod. She wished she could talk to him. Her gaze moved around the Hall until she found Ernie Macmillan, alone by the refreshment tables. He would have to do until she could talk to Severus again.

***

As the evening wore on, Hermione found her gaze drawn time and again to Severus. He looked quite dashing this evening, she thought. His well-cut robes and dark hair gave him an air of distinction. He would never be what most women considered good looking, but he was striking. He radiated intelligence...she could almost feel it from across the room...and she wondered why she had never valued his cleverness while she'd been a student.

She became increasingly aware that he observed her as she mingled with the other guests, and she remembered what Lance's had said: "He watches you, you know." With the exception of dinner parties hosted by Cordelia, she hadn't seen Severus outside of work, so this was the first opportunity she'd had to test the sincerity of Lance's words. And now she knew it was true. The knowledge both terrified her and thrilled her at the same time.

Severus approached the corner where she currently stood alone.

"Hello," she said, meeting his gaze. "I see you've managed to avoid both Sybill and Minerva."

He gave her a smirk. "You appeared to have done the same."

"Well, everybody tries to avoid Trelawney, but I've no reason to avoid Minerva."

He grunted. "You would if every conversation you had with her ended with her whinging for you to take up a teaching position." He didn't mention his other reason for avoiding Minerva McGonagall this evening: her desire to discuss his sudden interest in Hermione Granger.

"Have you also been avoiding the attentions of Rolanda Hooch?" she asked with a smile.

He raised his eyebrows. "Have you been spying on me all evening?"

"For most of it, yes. It's been entertaining watching you trying to escape the amorous advances of the Hogwarts witches."

He eyed her warily, and then looked at her glass. "Just how much champagne have you quaffed tonight?"

"Only three glasses," she replied, trying to look innocent.

"It only takes three glasses of champagne to produce such brazen behaviour. And in front of your employer, no less?"

She leaned forward, closing the gap between them, a smile on her lips. "But we are not at work, Severus. You are not my employer tonight, and I'm not your student or your employee."

He watched as she turned and walked away from him and admired the way her green dress robes clung to her curves. He tore his gaze reluctantly from her retreating form, only to find Minerva watching him with suspicious eyes from across the Hall. Cursing under his breath, he went in search of someone to talk to: anyone but Minerva bloody McGonagall.

***

Severus glanced at his watch and was pleased to see it was after eleven o'clock. Surely three hours was more than long enough to have paid one's respect to a retiring ex-colleague? He scanned the Hall for Hermione and spotted her chatting to Neville Longbottom. He began to walk in her direction when he found his path blocked by Minerva McGonagall. She had two glasses of red wine, and she pressed one into his empty hand.

"Have a drink, Severus," she instructed. "You've managed to avoid me all evening."

He quirked an eyebrow. "Why would I avoid you, Minerva?"

She glared at him above her glasses. "Well, there's no need. I've decided to give up trying to persuade you to return to Hogwarts."

"You have my eternal gratitude."

"I could hardly encourage you to give up your Potions business when it would mean rendering the former Head Girl unemployed, now could I, Severus?"

He clenched his teeth and gave her a warning glance.

"Why did you offer her the job?" she asked.

"She was in need of employment; I was in need of an assistant. She's more than qualified for the position."

They both looked across the Hall, where Hermione was still deep in conversation with Neville.

"You've become quite the Good Samaritan, Severus," Minerva remarked.

"Minerva," he said through gritted teeth. "You know I am in her debt."

She turned to him, a strange expression on her face. "And is that the only reason you have a sudden desire for her company? Forgive me if I offend you, Severus, but I've known you for quite some time now, and I find it hard to believe that you would act purely from a sense of duty."

"I've acted from a sense of duty before, Minerva, as well you know," he said, the vein in his temple pulsating with anger.

"Perhaps. But that sense of duty was connected to your feelings for a woman. I don't mean to insult you, Severus. I would just hate to see her hurt ..."

To Severus's great relief, they were interrupted by Filius Flitwick. "Forgive me for intruding, Minerva, Severus," he squeaked, "but Horace and I are heading down to the Three Broomsticks for a quick pint before closing. Would you care to join us?"

Desperate for any excuse to escape the Headmistress, Severus said, "I'd be delighted, Filius." He gave Minerva a triumphant glance.

"I must stay to see to our guests," Minerva said with a frown. She turned to leave them. "Tread softly, Severus."

Ignoring her parting remark, Severus turned to look down at the tiny Charms professor. "If you would give a moment, Filius. I accompanied Hermione Granger here tonight, and I must ensure she'll have an escort to the gates."

Filius nodded and went in search of Horace Slughorn while Severus crossed the Hall to Hermione.

His heart still thumping in anger from his conversation with Minerva, he greeted Neville and turned to Hermione. "Filius and Horace have requested my company at the Three Broomsticks, Hermione. I was wondering if Mr Longbottom would agree to escort you to the gates when you wish to return home?" He was pleased to see the brief expression of disappointment on her face.

"Of course," she said, turning to Neville. "That's if Neville doesn't mind?"

"Not at all," Neville said. "I could do with some fresh air."

Severus nodded his thanks. "Good evening, Hermione. I will see you on Monday morning."

She gave him a beaming smile. "Goodnight, Severus. And thank you, again."

"My pleasure," he said before turning and joining Filius and Horace at the doors of the Hall. He rather thought it would have been much more of a pleasure to have enjoyed her company on the return journey, but he thought this was, perhaps, for the best. A moonlight stroll with Hermione Granger would not have gone unnoticed by Minerva.

Although Hermione resumed her conversation with Neville, her gaze did not once leave Severus's retreating figure. When he reached the door, he turned and looked at her one last time before he disappeared from the Hall.

Only a few more minutes had passed when she noticed Neville trying to stifle a yawn, and she suggested it was time to leave. He fetched their cloaks, and they made their way out into the cool night air. Hermione felt she could finally be honest with him, away from the prying eyes and ears in the Great Hall.

"I know you enjoy your work here, Neville, but are you happy?"

"I'm happy in my work, and I'm happy here at Hogwarts. Do you mean are Hannah and I happy? Together?"

She nodded. "Yes, I suppose that's what I meant."

"We are not unhappy," he said.

"But neither are you happy?"

"Hannah doesn't like her job," he explained. "You can hardly blame her: Madam Pince is a joyless old hag. I think when she imagined returning to Hogwarts, she thought it would be just like our student days: she didn't count on having to work in a job she doesn't like and having to live with a husband she doesn't love."

"Oh, Neville," Hermione murmured, "I'm so sorry."

He shrugged. "We took a chance, and it didn't work out. We really did try; we both did. I like her; I respect her, but I just don't love her, and the feeling is mutual. She doesn't want to stay here, and her contract is up in August, so I reckon we'll call it quits then."

"Where will she go?"

Neville smiled. "She's applied to become landlady of the Leaky Cauldron."

Hermione laughed. "Well, that's about as different as you can get from Hogwarts Librarian."

"Good luck to her, I say," Neville said magnanimously. "She deserves to be happy."

She looked at him through the darkness. "You deserve to be happy, too."

He shrugged again. "I like my job, and I'm happy to be at Hogwarts." He turned to her. "What about you, Hermione? Were you very upset when Theo left?"

"I was upset at first. Not because he'd left, particularly. Like you and Hannah, it just hadn't worked out. But I just felt like I was in limbo; I'm still his wife, after all. Severus was the one who snapped me out of being miserable. Not only that, but he offered me the job, and I've really enjoyed it so far. I'm much happier now than I was when Theo was around."

Neville fell quiet, and she could see him frowning through the glow of the floating candles. She could just make out the murky outline of the school gates ahead.

He cleared his throat before he spoke again. "What's the situation with you and Snape?"

"What do you mean?" she asked. "I work for him, and he's been very kind to me. That's about it."

"Oh, come on, Hermione! You talked about him for nearly an hour, and you never took your eyes off him all night!"

She stared at him, stunned. "I work for him, Neville! I see more of him all week than anyone else. You talked about Herbology for ages; I didn't assume there's something going on with you and Professor Sprout."

Neville gave a brief laugh. "Yes, well I didn't spend the evening watching her every move. I'm not blind, Hermione. I watched the two of you when you arrived, and I saw the expression on your face when he approached us. Your eyes lit up!"

They'd finally reached the gates, and she turned to face him. "What exactly are you trying to say, Neville?"

He held his hands up. "I didn't mean to make you angry. I just think it's fairly obvious that you have feelings for him."

She felt thunderstruck. And embarrassed that she'd been caught watching him. "I do have feelings for him, Neville. I feel grateful for the job, I feel admiration for his abilities, and I quite enjoy his company. Nothing more than that."

"Whatever you say, Hermione. I'd just hate to see you get hurt, that's all." He leaned against the pillar of the gates.

"He's changed so much, Neville. Or maybe we just couldn't see the real him when we were kids. Do you still dislike him?"

"I don't really know him; he was polite to me while we were at Belgrave House, I suppose. But he was my Boggart when we were at school," he added with a grin.

Hermione giggled, remembering Neville's Boggart Snape dressed in his grandmother's clothes. "He's not your Boggart anymore?"

"I don't think so...I haven't seen a Boggart for quite some time."

She remembered how her Boggart had assumed the form of Professor McGonagall, telling her she had failed her exams. She smiled at the memory of how very innocent she had been back then. "What do you think our Boggarts would be now?"

Neville looked thoughtful for a moment. "Mine would be me: old, alone and unloved," he whispered.

Hermione looked at the outline of his round face and felt sad. She was afraid that her Boggart would be the same as Neville's. She stepped forward and gave him a hug. "Goodnight, Neville. Thank you for walking me out. And you're wrong, you know. About Severus. I admire him. Nothing more than that."

"If you insist," he said. He gave her a silent nod and stood back to allow her to Apparate home.

When she reached Kensington Square, she went straight to bed, but lay awake for quite some time, her mind full of her conversation with Neville. But her thoughts eventually drifted, as they often seemed to these days, to Severus Snape.

***

Hermione was restless all day Sunday, and a trip to her parents' house for Sunday lunch did nothing to improve her mood. Relations with her mother were still frosty, and she left early, pleading to be excused because of a headache. It was not an untruth: whether the throbbing in her head was due to the champagne or from thinking all night about her conversation with Neville, she didn't know.

She spent over an hour walking around Hyde Park, but the weather turned damp, and feeling chilled, she returned home. She could hear Lance pottering around upstairs, his ebony cane tapping against the floorboards of his study. She climbed the stairs: Lance would cheer her up.

He seemed pleased to see her and bade her enter his study.

"Just the girl I was hoping to see," he said, settling himself stiffly behind his desk.

"You wanted to see me?"

"Yes, indeed. I've just returned from having lunch with Minerva McGonagall, who's completely scandalised at your having accepted a job with Severus," he said, peering at her through his spectacles.

"Scandalised?" she asked.

Lance chuckled. "Well, maybe scandalised isn't the right word, although it must be said that Minerva is easily scandalised. Concerned, perhaps, is a more fitting term."

"Why is she concerned?"

"She mentioned that you came to speak to her before you married Theodore. She said you'd applied for the job as Severus's assistant that summer, but that he refused to consider you as a candidate," Lance explained. "I think she's just curious as to what has made you both change your minds. I wouldn't worry about it."

"I see," Hermione said, bothered. Why was everybody suddenly so interested in her relationship with Severus?

"How are you and Severus getting along in work these days?" he asked.

Hermione smiled. "Better than I would ever have thought possible. We've had our arguments, of course, but nothing important."

Lance looked pleased. "Does he talk to you?"

Hermione nodded. "Some days more than others. There are times when he wants silence, and I think I've learned to read his moods."

Lance shook his head. "No, I mean does he talk to you about himself at all, or about you, for that matter. Does he discuss anything other than Potions?"

"Well, yes, I suppose he does," she replied, reluctant to betray Severus's trust. "We've ... well ... resolved a few issues."

"I'm glad to hear it," Lance replied. "Has he ever spoken to you about Cordelia?"

"No, of course not! We don't talk about our personal lives."

"Yet," he said. "Ah, Hermione. I think Severus Snape is rather good for you. And you for him."

Hermione raised an eyebrow. "If only Minerva shared your opinion."

Lance tutted. "Never mind what she thinks. I think you and Severus are good for each other, and that's what really matters."

***

Hermione spent the rest of the evening curled up in her favourite armchair. The book she'd meant to read remained unopened in her hand while she thought again about her conversation with Neville. He was wrong. Surely he was wrong?

She would not allow the feelings of admiration and respect she felt for Severus to be misinterpreted as something else. Admiration was one thing; attraction was another. Conveniently forgetting how much she'd enjoyed watching him in the Great Hall, she concluded that there was no way she was attracted to Severus Snape. Neville was wrong: she did not have romantic feelings for him. Not at all.

***

She arrived at the laboratory on Monday morning to find Severus had already begun work. The laboratory was full of steam, and he was bent over the Telenium cauldron.

"Good morning, Severus," she said cheerfully, setting her journal on her workbench. "You've started early! How was ..." Her chatter died in her throat as soon as she laid eyes on him.

Never before had she seen him without his cloak, but it lay discarded on his stool, and he had opened the buttons on his black frock coat to reveal a white linen shirt beneath. He had rolled up his sleeves as far as his elbows and had tied his shoulder-length hair back from his face with a black band. His brow was beaded with perspiration.

Her mouth felt suddenly dry, and her palms started to sweat. She knew she should stop staring, but she could not tear her gaze away from him. He raised his eyes to hers, and she could tell he had been up all night: he looked exhausted.

"Good morning," he said, his voice hoarse. "I trust you returned safely from Hogwarts on Saturday night?"

"Yes, thank you," she replied, finally returning her scrutiny to her Potions journal. "How was your evening in Hogsmeade?"

"It was fine," he said. "Might I request your assistance? This potion required brewing during the full moon, and as a result I've been up all night."

She glanced at the cauldron. She didn't recognise the colourless fluid that was still issuing clouds of steam. "What is it?"

"Exostraserum," he said, his gaze on the potion.

Hermione gasped. "That's a variation of Veritaserum! I've heard of it, but I've never seen it brewed."

"That's because it requires a Telenium cauldron. Do you know how it differs from Veritaserum?"

She nodded. "It does not cause the drinker to admit the truth to others, just to themselves. It provides clarity of thought and an insight into one's own beliefs and feelings."

"Well done," he replied. He raised his left hand and beckoned her with his index finger.

Judging by the way her hands were shaking, she rather thought she could do with a little insight into her own feelings. Mere admiration generally didn't cause one's hands to tremor or one's legs to turn to jelly. She crossed to his bench, hoping that he couldn't hear the hammering of her heart.

"The process of the brewing is complete, but it requires a further two hours of stirring. I'm greatly in need of some sleep. Might I venture to ask you to stir until ten o'clock?"

She nodded. "Yes, of course."

"If you need to take a break, you may cast a Stasis Charm for up to three minutes, but no longer than that. It must be stirred in an anti-clockwise direction, but I suggest you add one clockwise stir for every twenty anti-clockwise stirs. It's not essential, but it aids in the interaction of some of the more important ingredients," He stepped back and motioned to the stirring rod in his right hand. "If you would?"

She stepped forward, feeling the colour rise in her cheeks. With a great effort to quell her trembling hand, she took the stirring rod from him without breaking the rhythm of the anti-clockwise stirs. He relinquished the rod and stood beside her for a moment, watching as she stirred the potion.

"Now add one clockwise stir," he said and watched with a frown as she did as she was told. "You'll find it works better if you angle your wrist to the left."

"What do you mean?" she asked, suddenly defensive. "I spent four years at the Sorbonne, and not one of professors found fault with my technique."

"Yes, well I'm sure your Parisian professors had not the ability to brew this potion. A lifetime of experience has demonstrated that the change of direction works better if you do it like this," he explained. He held his wrist up and tilted it to the left as if holding the stirring rod. He gave a grunt of impatience at her blank stare. "Good lord, girl. It would be quicker if I just showed you."

He stood behind her, and she could not help her sharp intake of breath as he brought his right arm around and enclosed her fingers in his. He stirred the potion with her, and she shut her eyes, overwhelmed by the sensation of his chest pressed against her back. When he spoke, she could feel the rumble of his voice through her robes.

"When you add the clockwise stir," he said, his mouth next to her ear, "tilt your hand like this."

He tightened his grip on her fingers and angled her wrist to the left. She could feel his breath against her cheek, and when he removed his long, slender fingers from her hand and stepped away from her, she felt bereft, and for one crazy moment she wanted nothing more than to turn and press herself against him. Instead, she drew a deep, shuddering breath.

"I'll return after lunch. When the stirring is complete, you may extinguish the flame and leave the potion to lie still. It will require a month to mature." He turned and picked up his cloak from the stool. She met his gaze once more, and he raised an eyebrow. "Is something the matter, Hermione?"

"No, I'm fine. I'll see you later," she muttered.

She waited until she had heard him climb the stairs, and then she cast a Stasis Charm on the potion. She held her hands out before her and watched them shake in disbelief.

Neville was right: she did have feelings for Severus Snape. Strong feelings. And no good could possibly come of it.

***

A/N: No good could possibly come of it? Dearest Hermione, we beg to differ! ;) To those of you who were looking forward to a dance at the party, I apologise. But you will get that dance soon. I promise. LB x