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Lions, Snakes, and Traitors, Oh My.	By : half_blood_princess Category: Harry Potter AU/AR > Het - Male/Female Views: 7717 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 1
Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter or any of the characters therein. I am making no money from this story.

Chapter List
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There the git stood, in front of her, arms crossed and looking at a pocket-watch. “Miss Granger. Prompt as always—are you ready to begin?”

“Yes, Professor Snape.”

“Good. First, you will organise my stores. Begin by grouping the ingredients according to the spell with which they belong, then alphabetically. I assume this won’t be a problem, since you know so much about potions.”

Snarky bastard. He’d never let her live that comment down. Taking a deep breath, she followed Snape into the ingredient storeroom, where he gave her a stepping stool and a dustcloth.

“I also expect you to dust each bottle, without magic. Don’t think I won’t be watching. Report to me when you’ve finished.”

“You don’t expect me to stay here all night, do you?” Hermione asked, incredulous. “I have studying to do!”

“What a shame. You should get started, then.”

He left her standing in the storeroom. If only she could have seen the smirk that crept across his face…

Three hours later…

She threw the dirty dustcloth on his desk, sending a cloud up into the air. He was writing notes on a chalkboard and turned around, the same smirk on his face. It widened when he saw the condition of her uniform—covered in the same dust—and her hair—frizzed and wild. She looked a complete mess.

“Finished, are we?”

“Oh, more than. I’ve completely reorganised everything. Also, you’re almost out of bezoars, Horklump juice, and Sneezewort. The storeroom was a complete mess, Professor Snape. How long has it been since you’ve cleaned it?”

His eyes narrowed. Avoiding her question, he replied:

“I see. You’re free to go.”

“But—”

“Good night, Miss Granger.” He shoved her out of the classroom and slammed the door in her face.

“You’re welcome,” Hermione growled to herself as she walked back to the common room.

Harry, Ron, Padma, and Neville greeted her when she entered. Their faces dropped when they saw how dirty she was.

“How was it?” Padma asked, motioning Hermione to sit next to her on the couch.

“Awful. He made me organise his stores completely—and dust them as well.”

“I can tell…” Ron said.

“Shut it, Ron,” Padma snapped.

“I’m exhausted, and I still have some studying to do.”

“Can we get you anything?”

“No thanks, Padma. But you guys could keep me company if you’d like…it’s been a lonely sort of day.”

“I’ve got some work to do for Professor McGonagall, anyways.” Harry sighed, dropping a stack of books on the floor next to the couch.

“Yeah, me too. I’m sorry, ‘Mione.” Ron stood and stretched. “You sure you don’t need anything?”

She smiled, playfully punching Ron’s shoulder. “I’ve already got you guys. What else could I need?”

___

Something was shaking her. From within the confines of her warm throw, she cracked an eye and groaned.

“Leave me ‘lone…five minutes, mum.”

“Sorry, love—not your mum—but you’re late to class! You’ve slept through Transfiguration and your Potions class started forty-five minutes ago!” Padma kept shaking Hermione.

It was unnecessary, because the frazzled Gryffindor shot out of her stupor and jumped up from the couch.

“Bloody hell! Why did no one wake me?” She shouted.

“I only just got back from my classes—Ron and Harry must have let you sleep…”

“Why? They knew I’d get in trouble if I missed my classes! Oh, are those two going to get it later!”

She rushed upstairs to the girls’ room and ran a brush through her hair, trying to remove as many tangles as she could, threw on a fresh jumper and skirt, and brushed her teeth before grabbing her rucksack and rushing out of the common room.

“Good luck!” Padma shouted after her.

She stood outside the door to the Potions classroom for what must have been five minutes, telling herself it was better to be late than to not show up at all. Then, she remembered this was Snape and he wouldn’t let it slide. Twice, she put her hand to the doorknob and removed it just as quickly. Students passing by gave her odd looks, wondering what she was doing. Taking a deep breath, she finally decided to open the door.

He was in the middle of lecturing, and didn’t stop when he saw Hermione enter the room—though he gave her a sharp look that said he wasn’t pleased—‘as if he ever is’, she thought to herself.

As she took her seat, she heard Draco snicker behind her and whisper to Pansy Parkinson. “Guess the Mudblood isn’t perfect after all.” They laughed quietly.

Resisting the urge to get out her wand and hex Malfoy, she clenched her fists and took another deep breath. The rest of the class was torture, and, it was just her luck that her seat was in the front. When the students clambered to get out of the room, she was stuck behind, waiting in line to leave.

“Miss Granger. How nice of you to show up for class.” He snarled.

She slowly turned around, finding him leaning against the edge of his desk, arms crossed and anger etched on his harsh features.

“I’m…sorry, Professor. I overslept, and I…”

“I’m not interested in your silly excuses. Since you can’t seem to make time for my class, perhaps you’d like to add another hour for detention tonight, to catch up on what you’ve missed. Unfortunately, given the current rules, I can’t drop you from my class—but don’t think for a moment that I wouldn’t try my damndest to if I found a loophole.”

“Yes, Professor.” Tears threatened to spill from her eyes, but she bit her lip and averted her gaze to the chalkboard behind Snape.

After another moment of uncomfortable silence, she clutched her books closer to her and turned to leave.

“I haven’t dismissed you yet, Miss Granger. We’re not done.”

Slowly, she turned, and her shoulders dropped.

“I expect to see you at five-o-clock, no earlier and no later. You will gather the ingredients you need for the potions you’ll be making this evening, and report to me for further instruction. After you’ve finished that, we’ll begin the lesson that you missed.”

“I’ve read ahead—I don’t…I don’t think—”

He raised an eyebrow.

“Yes, Professor.”

“You’re smarter than I thought, Granger. You’re dismissed.” He turned his back on her and went to his office, slamming the door behind him.

___

The rest of the afternoon was torture, as a gnawing feeling grew in her stomach. She’d seen neither hide nor hair of Harry and Ron, which meant they were avoiding her, probably because Padma told them how angry she was. It was for the best. She wasn’t sure she could maintain any semblance of dignity if she saw them. Spending another four hours with Professor Snape wasn’t helping her mood.

Hermione was on time for detention, just as Snape had told her to be. At five, she walked through the door to the Potions classroom and threw her rucksack on the desk in the back. Snape was nowhere to be seen, but she heard the rustling of papers in his office and knew he was there. Looking at the chalkboard, she saw a list of ingredients she needed to retrieve from the storeroom, and rushed to get them all. She was certain she knew which potion Snape intended her to make, and it was complicated, but not impossible. Once she’d piled them neatly on the worktable at the front of the classroom, she tiptoed to his office door and knocked lightly. The door swung open, and Snape stood, towering over her as usual.

“I’ve gathered the ingredients, Professor Snape.”

“Good. You will be making a batch of Draught of Peace for Madame Pomfrey. Her stock is low and I haven’t had the time to make them.”

“We made this two years ago, Professor. I can do this on my own.”

“Can you? As I recall, Miss Granger, your brew was sub-standard, to say the least. This must be precise and perfect.”

“Then why don’t you make it?”

“Are you admitting you don’t know more about Potions than the Potions Master at Hogwarts, Miss Granger?”

‘I can’t believe I’m about to bloody do this.’ Hermione thought.

She mumbled something under her breath.

“What? Miss Granger—it seems like you were trying to say something, but I couldn’t quite hear what it was. Care to repeat yourself?” Snape sneered.

“I’m…I’m sorry that I said that to you, Professor Snape. It was wrong of me.”

His black orbs glittered with amusement though his mouth remained neutral, and Hermione wished she could slap him.

“Well. That’s something I never thought I’d hear coming out of any Gryffindor’s mouth, let alone yours. Let’s continue, shall we?”

Her mouth dropped open.

“Is that it?”

“Is what it, Miss Granger? Specific nouns, please.”

“You’re not going to berate me further, or tell me how stupid I am?”

He pinched the bridge of his nose. “If you continue to be a thorn in my side and prohibit this potion from being brewed, I’ll do much worse than that, Miss Granger. Focus.”

Surprised, Hermione nodded and listened to Snape’s instructions on brewing the Draught of Peace, as he stood over her.

“Add two pinches of powdered moonstone, then stir clockwise. Once it has become orange, add the powdered porcupine quills and keep stirring.”

She could feel his breath near her ear. The pleasant smell of soap and leather wafted past her nose, and she suddenly became very self-conscious, something she never thought she’d feel around Snape. Hermione was glad he couldn’t see her face, because she was blushing. Adding the quills, she stirred furiously.

Looking up, she reminisced about the frustrating potion, forgetting the proximity of the Professor. “I remember; once it turns the color of turquoise, it’s done. Mine was still murky…”

“As I recall, Miss Granger. Stop stirring. You’ve finished it. Now sit down and take out pen and parchment while I bottle this.”

“Oh. Yes.”

Proud of herself for finishing the brew without mistakes—even with the surly professor standing over her—Hermione removed a pen and parchment paper from her rucksack and took a seat in the front of the classroom.

Writing the date and subject on the paper, she looked up only when Snape stopped and stood in front of her desk. He looked tired and gaunt—moreso than usual.

“Professor, are you all right?”

“I’m fine, Miss Granger. You’ve still got an hour of detention to go, and there’s much to be done. Start taking notes.”

He lectured for an hour, exactly, over the dangers of brewing strong draughts and what side effects they could produce if not brewed exactly to specification. He paced back and forth across the front of the room, as was his usual style of lecturing, never stopping once to look at Hermione, until he had finished.

“Write an essay, containing no less than one thousand words and no more than two thousand about the uses of four similar draughts in the Wizarding World—how they can be beneficial and also harmful. I expect it on my desk, at the beginning of class next week.”

“Yes, Professor.”

“We’re done here. I will see you at detention tomorrow.”

He turned to retreat into his office when Hermione called out.

“Wait, Professor? I have a question.”

“Why am I not surprised…” he muttered, irritated. “Well?”

“It’s just that I haven’t had dinner for the past two nights, Professor. May I bring something to eat with me tomorrow?”

“You aren’t in detention to have fun or eat dinner. You’re here as punishment. No, you may not.”

The crestfallen look on her pouty face both angered and annoyed Snape. What did she think his answer would be?

“Please? I won’t make a mess, and I’ll be quick about it. I just…I can’t concentrate on an empty stomach and by the time I leave here, the kitchens have closed…it’s harder to study and stay awake.”

“You mean to tell me your two dunderheaded schoolmates don’t save anything for you? That’s hard to believe.”

“I’m not talking to them at the moment, so I doubt it would matter.” She shot back.

“The golden trio is in conflict? Whatever for? I thought Potter and Weasley were immune from all wrongdoing.”

“That’s the furthest thing from the truth. I don’t know why you hate Harry so much, or Ron, but they aren’t perfect, if that’s what you think. It just so happens that those two didn’t wake me up this morning before classes. We’d been studying in the common room and I fell asleep.”

“I’m well aware they are flawed, Miss Granger. And I suppose this is the reason why you were late to my class.”

“I told you I overslept. I meant it. More importantly, why don’t you like them? What have they ever done to you?”

“Aside from being complete idiots with no regard for anyone else but themselves? Or breaking the rules on multiple occasions—and nearly exposing our world to Muggles?”

He was right about the exposure, true. She couldn’t deny it. Even she had been horrified at the way Ron had liberated Harry from the Dursleys’ home, but later, she realized he hadn’t had much choice. And, it had probably saved Harry’s life in the long run.

“They’re young, and boys. Surely you weren’t a perfect pupil, yourself?”

“I was a lot closer than Potter and Weasley will ever get. This conversation is over, Miss Granger.”

“But—”

“Bring your dinner, if you please, but be prepared to work.”

Once again, the professor went into his office and slammed the door behind him, leaving Hermione in silence.
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Lions, Snakes, and Traitors, Oh My.