In an Alternate Universe

Chapter 37 ~ An Offer

Later that night, Severus was awakened by anguished screams. Thinking Hermione was under attack, the Gryffindor leapt from his bed, grabbed his wand and charged into her bedroom, ready to Avada Kedavra. No more Mr. Nice Wizard.

Hermione was asleep, but evidently caught in the throes of a terrible nightmare. Her cries were tortured and piteous. She wasn’t saying anything, no words to describe her situation except for the horrible, aching screams.

Severus leaned over the bed, caught her by her shoulders and shook the witch, trying to bring her out of the dream.

”Professor, wake up! You’re having a nightmare!” he said, shaking her lightly.

Suddenly, Hermione’s eyes flew open wildly and she began to fight, scratching the young wizard’s cheek deeply before she came to herself. Severus released her, blood running down the side of his face. Hermione blinked at him and sat up in the bed, holding her Slytherin green sheet around her body.

”Why are you in here?” she demanded, then her eyes drifted down the young man’s body. “Naked?”

Severus looked down at himself. Shit, he was naked. He slept naked and didn’t think to dress when he heard her screaming. All he could think about was saving her.

”I sleep like this,” he said, “I just ran in here when I heard you screaming. I thought Lucius was attacking you again.”

“Screaming?” Hermione said, “I was screaming out loud?”

”Yes,” the wizard replied.

He made no attempt to cover himself. Hermione had seen him naked before.

Hermione let out a sigh.

”Severus, go into my medicinal cabinet and bring me the green bottle. It’s Dreamless draught,” she said to the wizard.

Severus did as she asked, Hermione’s amber eyes resting on his tight buttocks as he walked into the bathroom. It was like living with a nudist. He returned with the bottle and watched her anxiously as she swallowed some down and returned it to him. He returned it to the bathroom then returned to her bedside.

”What were you dreaming about?” he asked the witch, sitting down on the side of the bed.

Hermione glared at him for being so familiar, but in his concern, Severus didn’t even notice he had invaded her personal space.

”I was being tortured,” she said tiredly.

”But . . . I thought the Pensieve removed all the details of memories,” he said to the witch.

”Yes, the conscious memories, not those in the subconscious. They come through in glaring clarity in dreams, although the dreams dim too once they reach the level of consciousness. They only stay with me for a little while, then I’m all right. I take the draught so they don’t recur in the same night,” she said to him.

Severus frowned. That meant that sooner or later he was going to dream about what he did to Lucius. He doubted that it would bother him all that much, since he wasn’t on the receiving end, unlike Hermione.

”Would you like to talk about it?” he asked her softly.

Hermione shook her head.

”No, that will just keep it lucid, Severus. It’s better if I just let it fade,” she said to him quietly. She looked so tired.

”I could stay with you until you fall back to sleep,” he suggested.

Hermione looked at him as if he were crazy. He was buck naked. She knew what that meant.

“No. Not in your currently naked state, Severus. I’ll be fine. I’ve dealt with this for years,” the witch said.

”I won’t try anything,” Severus said sincerely, “I just want to make sure you fall back to sleep. If I go back to my room now, all I’m going to do is lay there wondering if you are able to sleep, then come out and check on you. If you aren’t asleep, you’re going to be annoyed at me. You might as well let me stay here. I promise I’ll leave when I see you’re fine.”

Hermione looked at him and could tell he meant what he said. But the thing was, she slept in the nude too, and wasn’t sure the boy would be able to control himself.

”Naked male and female bodies in close proximity are not conducive for restraint,” she said to the wizard. “I think you’d better go back to bed, Severus. I’ll be fine. Really.”

Severus sat there with his lower lip poked out like a petulant first year.

“That face isn’t going to work,” Hermione snapped at him. She then took her wand off the nightstand and healed the scratch on his face. She didn't apologize however. He knew she hadn't meant to do it. Hermione wasn't big on apologies. She put the wand back.

Severus’ black eyes fell on the little wooden folding chair.

”How about if I just sit in the chair, then?” he asked.

Hermione looked at the chair. It was uncomfortable even when one had clothes on. She arched an eyebrow at the young wizard.

“Go ahead. But don’t blame me when you have a stiff bum,” she replied.

Severus stood up, walked over to the chair and sat down, looking at her.

Hermione sighed and lay down on her back, aware of his eyes on her. She rolled on her side, facing away from him.

”Good night, professor,” he said to her softly.

”Good night. Be sure you aren’t in here when I wake up,” she griped, closing her eyes.

Severus sat there for more than half an hour before the witch was asleep. He tiptoed up to the bed and looked down at her. Her breathing was rhythmic and calm. He smiled.

“Good night, professor,” he said again.

In her sleep, Hermione gave a little smile.

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Flitwick couldn’t get through Advanced Charms fast enough. After dismissing the class, he asked Severus to stay behind. The young wizard sat at his desk and waited for the class to clear. Professor Flitwick warded the door, walked up and pulled himself up on the desk in front of Severus, his eyes unnaturally bright and a very hungry look on his face that made the Gryffindor a bit uncomfortable. Seeing lust on a wizard’s face was less appealing than seeing it on a witch’s face. Much less appealing.

“Mr. Snape, first let me say how impressed I am with the quality and level of your spell work,” the wizard squeaked.

”Thank you, sir,” Severus replied.

”You are the most talented young wizard I have ever seen concerning Charms. It is amazing how you’ve managed to create viable spells without the use of either Arithmancy or Lei lines. How did you do it?”

Severus explained that he had played with pronunciation when spell casting and noted how the spell either wouldn’t react or would do something slightly different than what was intended. He simply experimented with spells and found that different vocalizations caused different forms of magical reaction. Some sound combinations lifted objects, others focused magic, there were a number of things that happened. He combined various intents with various sounds and found he could manipulate magic. Coupling the intent with the proper words that contained the proper sound vibrations, he was able to create new spells.

Flitwick listened, fascinated. He was well aware how mispronunciation affected a spell, but no one had ever explored why. It was considered an error and the focus was on doing the spell properly, rather than continuing the error.

”Your thinking processes are quite original, Mr. Snape and you seem to have stumbled upon a facet of magic that no one else has considered,” the professor gushed.

Severus doubted that. He was sure that somewhere in history, when witch and wizards were just beginning to use magic, someone had to come up with spells in this manner. Later on, it became more complicated as some sought to usurp or control magic. If he did anything, it was discover an old art.

“Mr. Snape, I would like to offer you a full four-year Apprenticeship in Charms,” the wizard said excitedly. “It would be a shame if you didn’t use your talents to improve the field. You could become the foremost Charms master of our time! Think of it. You would be revered!”

”But, I am interested in Potions, sir,” Severus said to the wizard who scowled.

”Potions? Bah. Potions can’t compare to Charms, my boy! Mixing and stirring entrails, blood and all manner of nasty ingredients, cauldron explosions, poisonings and the like are what you can expect in that field. Hardly glamorous or enjoyable. And the cost of studying Potions can be prohibitive because of the price of the ingredients you’ll need. You would do much better if you focused on spell work, my boy. It is a clean, cerebral art. Believe me.”

Severus looked at him. He was right about the costs. Professor Granger was by no means a rich witch, and although she had stores, they were meant for use by Hogwarts students. As his mentor, she would be expected to provide everything he needed. But he found the hands-on work Potions required to be both enjoyable and cerebral.

”Still, I like Potions, professor. I’ve wanted to be a Potions master for as long as I can remember,” Severus said to the wizard.

Flitwick's face looked as if a storm was gathering on it as he eyed the boy.

“With a mentor, Mr. Snape, you will have more opportunities to meet the proper people, open the proper doors. Self-study is long, lonely and often poverty-stricken road. Of course, you could get a job, but then you will not be able to devote the time you need to your field. Besides . . .”

Here, Professor Flitwick’s face took on a rather cunning look.

”As my Apprentice, you would receive perks. I am rather well-off, Mr. Snape and would provide you with everything you require and beyond it. For example, you would have your own generous expense account for your personal use. And the latest edition of the Firebolt with which to travel about. And that would just be for starters. There would be traveling as well. I go to several magical expos held all over the world. Egypt, Rome, Paris . . . wonderful places. Of course, you would accompany me and see the latest development in the field of magic and meet some of the Masters. How does that sound?”

Severus swallowed.

Money? A new Firebolt? World Travel?

He had to admit, it sounded great. Hermione would never be able to provide him with such perks. She rarely went anywhere, though she was well-respected as a Potions mistress. She was also a recluse. She didn’t mingle with the other masters.

”It sounds . . . interesting, Professor Flitwick. But . . . I’ll have to consider it,” he said, rising.

“You do that, my boy. In the meantime, I’ll just draw up the terms of Apprenticeship,” Flitwick replied, rubbing his tiny hands together. “I’ll send them down to the dungeons.”

”You aren’t expecting an immediate answer, are you professor? I’m going to need time to think about it. I’d like to wait until graduation, sir, before I give you my answer,” Severus said to him.

”Oh, completely understandable, Mr. Snape. Of course you’ll want to take time out to consider my offer. But I assure you, you will find me a kind and generous mentor, to be sure. At the end of your Apprenticeship, the entire Wizarding World will be at your feet, clamoring for your skills and abilities. You will have money, fame, respect . . . and witches . . .”

Flitwick waggled his eyebrows at the boy. If there was one thing young wizards liked, it was witches. Accessible witches.

”I’ll think about it, professor. Right now I have to get to the dungeons. I have Potions class,” Severus said, slipping his backpack over one shoulder.

”Of course,” Flitwick said, offering Severus his tiny hand. He shook it carefully, thanked the wizard and left.

As he headed for the dungeons, Severus couldn’t help but think Professor Flitwick was offering him quite an opportunity. Professor Granger acted as if she didn’t want him for an apprentice. And he was sure that if she did take him on, she would be neither kind nor generous. She would probably yell at him, demand perfection, make him scrub cauldrons and collect fresh entrails by hand . . . put him through all manner of hardship.

Why did that seem so appealing?

He didn’t know it consciously, but the reason was that deep down inside, Severus believed anything good and lasting came from hard work, not having it handed to him on a platter. That was why he turned down Luna and preferred the Potions mistress. It was also why he was balking at Flitwick’s offer. Reaching a goal meant more after struggling for it. The experience also strengthened a person’s resolve and character.

He entered the Potions classroom. Hermione was standing in front of her desk, addressing the students. Her eyes fell on Severus.

He was five minutes late.

”Twenty points from Gryffindor for lateness, Mr. Snape,” she purred with a nasty little smirk as his housemates groaned. “Now go sit down.”

Severus sighed and took his seat.

No, Professor Granger wouldn’t coddle him at all if he were her apprentice.

He watched as the witch paced back and forth, her robes billowing as she dressed down the class for their dismal marks on the last pop quiz, and gave a subsequent assignment of three feet of reviews due tomorrow in addition to their usual homework.

No. Professor Granger was definitely not kind or generous when it came to learning. She was tough, unforgiving and expected results.

He’d get no undeserved praise or lip service from the snarky witch. Even his improved techniques got little more than a “Good. Now on to the next one.” She didn’t fawn over him or his abilities and he liked that.

Hermione would be the perfect mentor as far as Severus was concerned.

If only she’d accept him.

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A/N: Flitwick is pouring it on, isn’t he? Seems like he’s trying to buy his Apprenticeship.