Four

Disclaimer: They're not mine.

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Septima Vector had always been, in Hermione's opinion, a wonderful teacher and a very agreeable woman...but she was also a sharp and well-respected intellect among her peers in the academic world of Arithmancy, and Hermione was understandably daunted by the task of presenting her research proposal to her professor. She would have felt equally nervous in the face of such a task with Professors Flitwick, McGonagall or Snape.

Snape. Stop thinking about it, she told herself.

Thus it was to her immense relief that, upon the completion of her well-rehearsed speech and the presentation of the outline of her plan, Professor Vector actually clapped enthusiastically. "That's fantastic, Miss Granger! Truly, it is. I haven't heard a research proposal that original in Merlin knows how long. Outstanding job."

Hermione, her hand paused in mid-air while holding one of her many parchments, grew wide-eyed. Given the complexity and breadth of her proposed endeavor, she'd expected her professor to be reserved and mildly enthusiastic at best. "Really, Professor? You think it would be feasible as an honors project?"

"Absolutely," Professor Vector agreed, tucking a strand of graying hair behind one ear. "Granted, this is going to require a large time commitment from you. If you're serious about using this as a branching point for studies as my apprentice, you're going to have to keep a very busy schedule from this point forward." She smiled. "But I don't imagine that's much of stretch for you, Miss Granger. If you assure me that you are capable of juggling your usual course load with the type of time commitment you've proposed, I'll believe you without a doubt."

"I'm fully committed, and I'll spend as much time as is necessary," Hermione agreed, impassioned. Internally, she felt like screaming with relief and happiness. "I would be honored to be able to study as your apprentice if you find my work on this project satisfactory..."

"I have no doubt of that either, Miss Granger, I assure you," the woman replied with her eyes sparkling, glancing up in the direction of the open doorway. "Severus! What brings you up to this floor?"

Hermione closed her eyes reflexively and prayed she'd misheard. She cracked open an eye and glanced to the side.

No such luck. There he was, standing in the doorway, his eyes trained deliberately on her. His hair, she was startled to note, had been pulled back and bound at the nape of his neck. His classes had concluded for the day, so perhaps he'd been spending some time in his own personal laboratory. She wondered if such work ever required him to divest himself of his frock coat as well.

"Forgive the interruption," he murmured. "Miss Granger had an... incident in Potions and was injured by one of my Charmed knives. I merely meant to inquire whether Madam Pomfrey gave her proper treatment."

"She did," Hermione said hastily, aware that her voice sounded harassed and vaguely desperate. "I'm to continue taking a potion for the next twenty-four hours. I didn't even have to inform her that the knife was Charmed, actually. She anticipated that right away. She must have dealt with them so many times in the past..." Aggravated by her own tendency to ramble, she clamped her mouth shut.

Snape gave a short nod and turned to leave. It was bizarre, the lack of movement of his hair.

"Severus, you've got to hear Miss Granger's research proposal," Professor Vector called delightedly before his shoulders had been able to disappear from view. Both Hermione and Snape turned to look at her, Snape in vague surprise and Hermione in frank astonishment. She couldn't bring herself to believe the woman would be advertising that she was seeking an alternative apprenticeship so soon after what had transpired if she'd known about it. Was it possible the usual Hogwarts gossip chain hadn't reached her?

"Research proposal?" Snape echoed. His voice held a tone. She couldn't identify it precisely, but it was there. She feared that it was clear he was mentally preparing to deride her yet again.

"Oh, yes. She's come up with quite a brilliant layout. Really, Miss Granger, you must have put hours of effort into this." Professor Vector was paging through appreciatively, her eyes lingering over particularly difficult equations and hypotheses. "And so thorough, too. You'd be proud of her, Severus, and such terrific research into healing potions and charms... Look at this!"

To Hermione's horror, Snape voluntarily stepped forward and held out a hand, smoothly accepting the abstract of her research proposal from Vector. She swallowed, afraid of choking, and forced herself to stare straight ahead rather than hang her head.

"She's come up with such an original idea," Professor Vector was rattling on. Damn the woman for being so kind with her praise. Could she legitimately damn someone for kindness? "Truly inventive," she continued, "and she's already laid some terrific theoretical groundwork, don't you agree?" Not waiting for a response from the silent Potions master, she beamed at Hermione and said, "I think with careful planning you could get into casting some initial charms on healing potions when we return to school after the holiday. Would you like that, Miss Granger?"

"Very much," Hermione croaked helplessly. She was still waiting for Snape's pronouncement of her complete inability to brew said healing potions. She hadn't anticipated getting into such depth during the course of her seventh year, and she would require extensive help...help she strongly doubted Snape would be amenable to providing.

"Mind you, I suspect it will be next to impossible to find a test subject," Vector continued. "Not willing, at least, and temporary illnesses won't do. Legal issues aside, every one of the potions you've suggested are intended for chronic conditions only, and these types of pain-reducing charms might actually be detrimental to anyone with an acute illness. I'm not quite sure...I'd have to consult with Filius...but it's a shame we couldn't find someone..."

"I shall volunteer."

Hermione stifled a cough and stared at Snape. He was holding her paper in his hands quite calmly, and his dark eyes locked on hers. For a terrifying moment their gazes remained locked, and she tried desperately to read his face. Was he mocking her? Hoping to prove her incompetence? It took Professor Vector's slightly shrill interruption to put time back into motion.

"Really, Severus? You're sure? I have every confidence in Miss Granger's abilities, of course, but this is your body we're talking about..."

Hermione, uncomfortably aware of just whose body they were talking about, gave in to temptation and hung her head in embarrassment. Snape continued on smoothly and quietly, however.

"I am well aware of that. Miss Granger's theoretical work appears sound with regard to the potions." Hermione lifted her head tentatively, waiting for the other shoe to drop. She interlaced her fingers across her lap and forced herself to look at him unblinkingly.

"She will require assistance with the brewing process, in any case." There it was: one corner of his mouth, curling up perceptibly. "Her research is... thorough, but it is beyond the scope of her abilities to prepare these potions... in particular."

She tried not to choke again. Was that a double-edged compliment, Professor?

"Well, I think that sounds excellent." Professor Vector shot into a whirl of plans, declaring that Snape would have to sign an affidavit waiving any rights to litigation if a research project under her control turned foul. She then assigned Hermione the endeavor of preparing a feasible timetable and explained that she would also have to flesh out the remainder of her equations by the time they returned from the holiday break. "Once you've done that," she concluded, "we'll consult with Filius about the charms, and then you're going to have to get down to the truly difficult analysis...determining which of these will work best in Professor Snape's particular condition."

"Condition?" Hermione knew it was a stupid thing to say...Snape would be infuriated by feigned ignorance of his limping...but Professor Vector, at least, didn't seem fazed.

"I'm sure you know he's been suffering from the after-effects of the snake venom since this summer. Have the muscle spasms stopped, by the way, Severus?" Snape gave a jerky shake of his head from where he stood, and Hermione found herself surprised that he was willing to share this...any of this...with her present. She noticed for the first time that the longer he stood, the more his complexion began to look sickly and even more sallow, the yellow tinge spreading across his temples and down what little she could see of his throat. The mere effort of standing was taxing on his body.

"Unfortunately, Professor Snape's injuries are exactly of the long-term, debilitating nature you've tackled here. However, it does make him an ideal test subject for this type of experimental treatment...theoretically," she qualified, giving Hermione a serious look. "There's no guarantee it will work, of course, but you are gifted enough in Arithmancy to understand that not every equation that can be drawn out on the board necessarily translates to physical practice. You'll have to do a full physical examination and ensure that all possible details are worked into the equation.

"I meant it when I said I have faith in you, Miss Granger," she assured Hermione, "but it will be Professor Snape's life on the line if any equations are performed grossly incorrectly. I certainly believe you have the talent and conscientiousness to perform this properly, but I would be negligent if I didn't still impress upon you how critically important it is to take every precaution when working with a live test subject."

"Of course," Hermione replied softly, falling silent. She wanted an apprenticeship, wanted a career in Arithmancy, so badly. She just hadn't counted on Snape...every single inch of him...standing in the way.

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"And how thorough an exam are you required to give him?" Ginny asked with a traitorous grin, standing at the foot of Hermione's bed. Hermione blushed furiously, instantly regretting that she'd disclosed every detail in her description of what had passed in Professor Vector's office.

Ginny, upon entering their room with her eyes ablaze, had wasted no time in demanding to know what precisely had caused her incident in Potions. It was all over the castle, she informed Hermione...everyone was shocked that brilliant, unbeatable Hermione Granger had been the one to screw up for once. They also couldn't imagine why she hadn't forced her lab partner to remain behind and ensure them at least a passing grade on the assignment. The exact contents of the two girls' whispered conversation just prior to the accident were currently a hot topic of debate amongst the NEWT-level students.

Hermione abhorred gossip in all its forms, and she certainly didn't feel the need to justify her reactions to her other classmates. The delicious feeling of liberation she'd carried with her for the past month remained as strong as ever. She owed them no explanations. Let their theories ferment and come up with rumors that were utter tripe; she didn't care.

With Ginny, however, she had grudgingly admitted defeat. She respected and loved Ginny, and she hadn't seen any real reason in prolonging the admission. As it turned out, there hadn't been all that much admission required of her thus far. Ginny had immediately asked outright if she was attracted to Snape, and she'd said yes, launching into an explanation of the full requirements of her research project and the delicate situation in which she now found herself. It felt marvelous to discuss her reservations so freely with another person.

"Am I that obvious?" she asked aloud, munching thoughtfully on the sandwich Ginny had brought her for supper. She'd been holed up in their room since her meeting with Vector, terrified of facing Ginny's reaction. Her anxiety had effectively trapped her for the past few hours, but at least that had prevented her from consoling herself with cake and hot cocoa in the kitchens.

"Do you think he knows?" She addressed the question directly to Ginny this time.

"Snape? I doubt it. But he's going to know if you can't keep yourself from staring at particular body parts when they're revealed." Ginny was giggling freely, and Hermione resisted the childish urge to chuck a pillow or two at her perfect red hair. She'd spent more than enough of the past few hours wondering about such things herself. It couldn't be healthy to allow this preoccupation to continue.

"I can be professional and detached about it," she reflected, and she was relieved to find that the words rang true and genuine. "There's nothing sexually arousing about the fact that the man is in serious pain every minute of every day. When I'm examining him, I'm going to be thinking about how unfair it is that he's still suffering because of that dreadful snake.

"It's just that I'm also going to require assistance with brewing the potions once I've singled out the best one to use, and he has every right to be present during each step of the process. After all, it's his body." She echoed Professor Vector's words resignedly.

"So what are you worried about?" Ginny called from near her trunk, in which she was rummaging vigorously, searching for her pajamas. "That you'll do fine during the examination but give yourself away if you have to work with him one-on-one?" she surmised, pulling out the clothes.

"That pretty much sums it up," Hermione conceded.

"Well, if it's any consolation, I meant it when I said I doubt he notices." Ginny changed swiftly and sat across from Hermione on the bed, holding a bottle of bright green nail polish. She began to apply it with scrupulous precision to her toenails, her slender fingers deft and well-practiced. Hermione was reminded of Lavender and Parvati, her old roommates, enjoying their preening sessions, and she couldn't help but crack a smile. She missed the other pupils in her year so badly that she was almost regretting Lavender's absence. Almost.

"Do you mind if I ask exactly what it is you see in him? And how much you think you like him?" There was hesitation in Ginny's tone, and Hermione realized with astonishment that, despite everything she'd shared with the other girl over the years, straightforward talk about boys and men had never entered into their relationship. It had always been tacitly accepted and understood that Ginny liked Harry despite his almost oafish obliviousness in their earlier years. Once he'd seen sense and they'd got together, Hermione hadn't felt that it was necessary to verbally express her blessings to them. She loved them both unconditionally and had felt confident that they realized as much.

Ginny, in her turn, had never asked her much about Ron during the brief time they'd been together. She'd looked almost surprised to find that Hermione and her brother had apparently declared their mutual romantic intentions, a fact that had not been lost on Hermione at the time. Since the summer's painful circumstances, Hermione had often found herself contemplating whether Ginny had recognized the warnings signs but been too uncomfortable discussing such matters with Hermione to broach the subject. It grieved her to think that perhaps she'd always been too brusque or too impersonal with Ginny for her to be comfortable beginning that kind of discussion.

The dynamics of their relationship had altered drastically since they'd become roommates at Hogwarts, for which Hermione was intensely grateful. She'd found both an ally and a confidante in Ginny, a feeling that seemed to intensify with each passing day, but she was nonetheless surprised to find how easily the words had poured forth once she'd allowed herself to speak them.

"I thought it was just physical at first, as incredible as that might sound to you," she began, her fingers twining through the frizzy mess of her ponytail. Ginny nodded solemnly, looking intently interested. She'd even set aside her lurid green nail polish to gift Hermione with her absolute attention. "I never wanted to admit it to anybody because we've all made fun of him for being ugly at one point or another over the years, but to be honest, I never really thought he was."

Ginny further shocked her by interjecting with, "I don't find him all that ugly."

Hermione nodded gratefully, feeling almost tearful. "You can't imagine how ashamed I was when I realized summer before fifth year that I was too embarrassed to acknowledge being physically attracted to him. But at that time, I'd never had a boyfriend, and we were friends with Remus and Sirius, but with Snape there was always so much distance. I knew...I know...he's the same age, but it felt different somehow. After the Order started meeting regularly and Harry told us what Dumbledore had said, I just found myself... looking at him a lot."

Hermione lost herself momentarily in the recollection of sultry summer evenings holed up in Grimmauld Place, the children standing eagerly on the landing while the adults consulted in hushed whispers in the kitchen. When the meetings had adjourned, the others had always bounded back up the stairs to discuss eagerly the morsels they'd picked up during their eavesdropping. She'd dallied, trying somehow to appear to follow her friends while lingering, longing to remain until they had all exited the kitchen.

It was the only time she'd found to study him fully and unabashedly without the need to be surreptitious. Typically, he would exit with his usual fierce stride and be out the door in moments, leaving her precious little time to trace the shape of his body beneath his clothes. Occasionally, he would linger, talking with terse civility to Sirius Black and Remus Lupin, and she would revel in the opportunity to really watch him. She recalled with perfect vividness the first time she'd been able to identify his facial expressions and gestures, normally so subtle. He was such an intensely private man, truly reclusive, and what little she'd gleaned of his deeper personality had theretofore been restricted to covert moments in the Potions classroom.

She'd grown accustomed, too, to watching him hold conversations with Dumbledore and McGonagall, usually simultaneously; and while she knew all three to be intellectual equals, she'd never been able to tamp down the knowledge that they were generations apart, Dumbledore and McGonagall his elders and mentors. He was as comfortable with them as she'd ever witnessed him in the presence of other human beings, though certainly not relaxed by any standard definition of the term.

Those moments at Grimmauld Place had fully awakened in her admirations of a decidedly sexual nature because the sight and sounds of him speaking to Remus and Sirius, to other men of his own generation, were almost headily different. It wasn't just the low tone of his voice and the often overwhelming power of his presence around the other Order members that had gotten to her. It brought out in him a self-assured and uncompromising stance that was purely, achingly masculine. She'd often wondered if he had perceived some continued threat from Sirius Black and had been perpetually on edge in Grimmauld Place. Whatever the reason, whether his behavior or her vantage point, she'd watched him for the first time walking, speaking, and dominating the room not as her instructor but solely and entirely as a man. It had only taken one look at the set and breadth of his shoulders. Hermione had been floored.

"It was just observation, really," she murmured to Ginny. "I was worried about him, wondering what Voldemort might do to him physically to punish him. "

Ginny's words were deadly quiet. "I know what Voldemort did to him to punish him, Hermione. My mum and dad talked about it when they thought no one could hear them. I suppose Madam Pomfrey must have let it slip... She would Floo my mum sometimes, crying, trying to figure out how to heal him. You don't want to know what that man's had done to him."

Hermione felt bile rising in her throat as though she'd just been punched in the gut. "No," she agreed sadly. "I suppose I don't need to know. But I would find myself watching him, and after a while, I started to think that everyone was doing him an enormous disservice by describing him as so unattractive considering what he went through on a regular basis...what I imagined he went through," she amended, sickened. "You... What Madam Pomfrey said happened to him before the snake venom... Does it explain...?"

"Explain what?"

Hermione felt that any response would be inadequate. How did one quantify the emotional and physical manifestations of years of unabated exposure to Dark evil and abuse? "Not just his personality, I mean. I was referring to his physical problems. Does it explain why he always looks tense, why he never seems to relax? Why he's so thin?"

Ginny's eyes had never looked so grave. Her mouth opened a moment, and Hermione both desired and dreaded the full details of Snape's treatment at the hands of Lord Voldemort.

Moments passed. Seeming to think better of it, Ginny asked instead, "Do you think you love him?"

Hermione exhaled a long, drawn-out breath. "No. I don't know. I don't think so, anyway. But I always assumed I'd have to be with a man first to know if I loved him..." Ginny's understanding nod emboldened her. "Sometimes I feel like I could, if by some miracle it turned out he was at all attracted to me. Mostly, I used to avoid thinking about him that way because I knew it would only end badly. Eventually, I couldn't help it, but I tried for the sake of my marks. I've thought a lot about him in other ways, though," she confessed. "In fifth year, I found his Master's project in the Hogwarts library... Did I tell you that? No? There's a wonderful anthology of Master's-level theses that are bound together and put out in a periodical semiannually, and I found his. He's brilliant, Ginny. There are no words."

"No," Ginny agreed, leaning back against her forearms. "I suppose there aren't. Even I can see that. And I can't say I'm surprised that you're more turned on by the size of the man's brain than by the potential size of other features you'll be seeing soon." She gave a coquettish grin, and Hermione chuckled in embarrassment.

"I can get through this, though...the project with him," she said in all seriousness. "Even if I do succeed, it's not likely that I'll see him all that much in the future, if at all. I realize there's no chance of anything happening. I've come to terms with that, especially after what happened last month."

"You still think he doesn't respect you?" Ginny's brows furrowed. "I tend to agree with McGonagall on that: I think he was just being unusually harsh. He might respect you. He might even react differently if you asked him again in the future."

"He might," Hermione agreed neutrally. "Or he might not. I've moved past that now, although I'd certainly like his respect. I've wanted it since the first day of Potions, God knows. But even if I don't get it, at least there's a chance that I can still help him."

Ginny sighed heavily. "Fixing the problems from the snake bite isn't going to solve everything. Don't get me wrong...it'll be pretty amazing if you do manage it, and I'm pretty sure you'll be set as far as an apprenticeship with Vector goes...but don't go into this thinking that it's going to end up with the two of you together. Years of treatment can't make up for what he's been through."