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A Lesson in Loyalty	By : llorolalluvia Category: Harry Potter > Het - Male/Female > Snape/Hermione Views: 5572 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter or the characters from it and I am not making any money from this story.

Chapter List
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…*~*J*~*…
Hermione stared down at the cold eggs and toast on her plate. After the dream she had had the night before she wasn’t sure she could look Snape in the eye. At least she hadn’t asked him to give her Occlumency lessons! But he was such a skilled Legilimens that he would likely know something was amiss anyway.
Harry and Ron were enthusiastically discussing Quidditch practice as they finished up their breakfasts and Hermione shuddered as she caught a glimpse of Ron’s half-chewed eggs. Apparently Molly Weasley had never had time to step away from the stove and teach her boys proper table manners.
“Miss Granger,” came a deep voice so close behind her that she jumped in fright and proceeded to blush an impressive shade of red. Professor Snape’s eyebrow rose in his characteristic, mocking way and she hated herself for giving him the satisfaction of affecting her so.
“Y-yes, Professor?” she managed. He sneered condescendingly.
“If you are done with your breakfast, I wonder if I might have a word.” Now? Hermione’s heart was thudding. Had he already made his decision, then?
“Of course, Professor,” she said, looking up at him expectantly. When he swept past her and toward the Entrance Hall, she grabbed her bag and hurriedly followed after him, feeling rather foolish.
Once they had passed through the giant entryway, Snape did not stop, but continued on toward the dungeons. Hermione started to worry that he hadn’t meant for her to follow at all and had begun to feel rather anxious by the time they stopped outside his office. The door opened and he turned and gestured for her to enter first. What a gentleman, she thought sarcastically.
Hermione seated herself in the hard seat directly in front of Snape’s desk as he moved around it to his own comfortable chair. Leaning his elbows on the desk, he rested his chin on his folded fingers and considered her. She found herself incapable of holding his gaze and turned her own eyes to the surface of his desk. Besides the neatly organized stacks of student essays and a couple of books, the desk was barren. There were no adornments or anything at all unnecessary. She supposed that fit him. The display of creepy jars must have been entirely for his students’ benefit, she decided.
“I have considered your proposition, Miss Granger,” he began. Those words. Hermione felt her cheeks flushing from unbidden thoughts of his voice saying similar things in her dreams last night. If he knew, he’d turn me into potions ingredients. At his hesitation, she met his eyes expectantly. “And I think we may be able to establish an arrangement that will be… mutually beneficial.”
Hermione’s heart was pounding as her mind raced with possibilities. He must have gathered where her mind had gone from the flush of her cheeks and the way her wide eyes were staring unblinkingly at him. Raising an eyebrow, he continued wickedly, “You don’t expect me to do something for nothing, do you?”
“I-I guess not,” she stammered, unsure where this was leading, but beginning to feel very, very uncomfortable.
“After all, I am not a man accustomed to doing favors.” She gulped. He chuckled at her helpless expression. “Allow me to outline the terms according to which I will tutor you,” he began again. “You will continue to attend Professor Slughorn’s class. He is following the same curriculum I would have used and you will, therefore, be exposed to the same potions for practice. I will, however, add to that curriculum with a series of essay assignments for you and a number of other books, since you have such a… fondness for reading. In return…” he cut off, deliberately bringing her focus back from the excitement of his proposition to the fear of what he would demand from her.
“In return,” he began again, “you will take over my task of brewing potions for the Order as well as the Hospital Wing here at Hogwarts. We will establish a certain time when this will take place and you will be given lists of potions to be readied. I will oversee your work at the start, but eventually you should be able to complete the simpler ones without a babysitter. I will continue to brew the more difficult potions, such as the Wolfsbane.” Hermione gaped in shock. In five years of knowing him, he had never given her even the tiniest compliment. Now, he was as good as hiring her as an assistant! Excitement pulsed through her. “Does that sound agreeable?” he continued impatiently when she did not reply.
“Yes! Yes, sir. That would be… that sounds good to me,” she agreed. He gave her a half sneer and began to stand.
“One last thing. I think it would be best if you didn’t mention these lessons to anyone else. It might draw… unwanted attention.” His expression brooked no argument.
“Yes, sir.”
“In that case, Granger, you had better to get to class. You’re late as it is.” Hermione blinked. She glanced at a clock on the wall. That bastard. She grabbed her bag and made for the door, shouting a thank you as she turned. Oh well, even being late for Transfiguration couldn’t put a damper on her good mood now. “Granger,” he stopped her as she reached for the doorknob, “I will expect you here tomorrow at noon for your first… lesson.”
“Tomorrow’s Saturday,” she blurted. He sneered.
“Very astute, Miss Granger.” With that, Snape turned away from her and she knew she was dismissed. Slipping out, she had to fight the urge to skip to class, even knowing McGonagall would be furious.

…*~*J*~*…
“You really shouldn’t be playing with the curses in that book, Harry,” Hermione scolded as Harry practiced Muffliato in the Gryffindor Common Room that evening. “You don’t know anything about this ‘Half Blood Prince.’ He could be a dark wizard, for all you know.” Harry grinned at her.
“A dark wizard? Hermione, he’s a half blood. How bad could he be?” Hermione pinched the bridge of her nose in frustration. All these years of being right and she still had to fight for them to listen to her.
“Harry, Voldemort is a half blood,” she reminded him.
“Ok… so? Big deal… There’s no way he’s the Half Blood Prince.”
“You don’t know that, Harry. You never suspected Riddle’s Diary of being evil and that turned out to be Voldemort, himself!
“So what?” Ron chimed in. “What are the odds that he left two books behind and Harry found both of them?” From his triumphant grin it was apparent that Ron believed he had made a very compelling argument. “I mean, even if it is dangerous, it’s better Harry has it than someone like Malfoy. Right?” Hermione sighed with exasperation. She couldn’t believe the gall of her two best friends to practice jinxes they had found scribbled in the margins of an old book with no clue as to what exactly the spells were for.
“Oh, Hermione,” Harry began, “we were thinking of going to visit Hagrid tomorrow afternoon.” The question was implied, but tomorrow was Saturday and Hermione had her first lesson with Snape.
“Oh, I can’t Harry,” she started, realizing she did not have a decent excuse. “I have to meet for Arithmancy.” She held her breath, but the boys bought her excuse with no further inquiries. She relaxed remembering how easy it had been third year to keep her friends in the dark about her time turner.

…*~*J*~*…
Her first lesson with Snape was going much smoother than she could have anticipated. He had given her a list of potions that needed brewing and set her to it in the middle of his classroom while he sat at his desk grading papers. So far she had brewed three perfect batches of calming draught and was supposed to start on bruise salves next. The dark professor had come down from his perch a handful of times to check her progress scornfully, but for the most part had been content to focus on his own work. It should have been peaceful, but Hermione found it unnerving the way he wasn’t giving her any feedback, positive or negative. Part of her wanted to ask him how she was doing, just to have something to go off of, but she knew he would let her know if she made any mistakes.
Hours ticked by and Hermione was not sure how long he intended to keep her there. Was this his cruel way of tormenting her? Would she be brewing healing potions through supper as well?
But eventually Severus Snape stood, cracked his aching joints, and moved to stand beside her once more. She was bottling a flawless batch of Dreamless Sleep and her hands began to tremble as he watched. He was standing so close to her, she could feel the whisper of his robe on her arm as she held the flask. She placed a containment spell on the flask and stupidly held it out to him instead of placing it in the box labeled “Hospital Wing” with the other batches. He raised an eyebrow.
“Yes, I see it, Miss Granger. Now if you could put it with the others…” he said drily. She flushed and hurried to place it in the box with all of the others. As she did, she unconsciously stepped between the professor and the table, realizing her mistake as her bum brushed against the front of his trousers. He reacted as if she had slapped him, retreating several steps backward.
“Sorry…” she began automatically, but he cut her off by roughly clearing his throat.
“Well,” he began in a mocking tone, “I suppose you’ll have to finish this order another day, since you weren’t able to complete it today.” She gaped at him. She hadn’t finished half the potions on that list and he knew they had specific time requirements. He, himself, couldn’t have finished the order in that amount of time. She could feel her temper flaring. “Shall we say tomorrow at noon? Or do you need a break?” She scowled.
“Tomorrow will be fine, Professor.” Her tone was a lot angrier than she had intended for it to be and he arched a brow in amusement.
“Very well. In that case, I have an assignment for you. I’m certain you’ll have plenty of time to complete it before our lesson tomorrow.” The prospect of an assignment took the edge off her anger and she watched him return to his desk. He sat and picked up a piece of parchment handing it out for her to take rather than returning to where she was in the middle of the room. Clumsily, she hurried around the desks to grab her assignment from his impatient, outstretched hand. It was folded, so she didn’t open it to read just yet. Partly, she believed he might tease her for being excited about it and partly because she wanted to relish it in the safety of her own dorm.
“Thank you, sir,” she muttered. His return to grading was all the dismissal she needed. Grabbing her bag, she tucked the parchment into a pocket and headed for the door.

…*~*J*~*…
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A Lesson in Loyalty