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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 piece of parchment that Snape had given her; her assignment. It was unlike any essay that he had ever assigned. There was no length requirement and the topic was not at all related to the course material (despite his assurances that his essays would complement the class). There was only one sentence:
What did the Healers at St Mungo use to cure Arthur Weasley’s bite?
He expected her to speculate on the potential cures for an attack that she knew very little about without a patient to test said cures on? Hermione bit the end of her quill, but she found that she was not nervous. The challenge rather exhilarated her.
She was also very aware that this question never would have been posed to the rest of the class, which rather ridiculously made her feel special.
Given the absence of length requirement, Hermione decided to write out all of her thoughts on the matter. After hours upon hours of research into healing potions and antidotes, snakes and venoms, and dark magic and its effect on medication; Hermione had 5 feet of parchment.
She hoped that was enough.

…*~*J*~*…
Sunday morning was bright as the Golden Trio stepping out onto the lawn to bask in the warmth of the autumn sun. It was a peculiarly warm day and a number of students apparently had had the same idea to spend it outside. The three made their way to the bank of the Black Lake and sat in the grass with their toes in the water. The icy chill of its shallows was a crisp comparison to the lazy warmth radiating across their faces from the morning sun.
Harry had brought his Potions book, of course, and seemed deep in thought about something. Well, she supposed, there was certainly no other way to get Harry Potter to read textbooks for fun. For today, she decided to leave him alone about it. The day was much too wonderful to ruin with argument.
After a while, however, Hermione had to leave the boys for another “lesson” with Snape. She dreaded leaving such a beautiful day, but thought the cool dungeons might be a nice escape from the heat of the outdoors. Strangely, however, even the dungeons were rather warm as she made her way to Snape’s lair.
When she slipped into the Potions classroom, her professor was standing in the middle of the room with three cauldrons brewing simultaneously in front of him. Hermione’s jaw dropped. She realized she had never seen her professor actually brew a potion, himself. He always spent their labs sweeping amongst them in an effort to intimidate.
It was rather awe inspiring to watch the Potions Master at work. His usually scowling visage was completely neutral and concentrated. His robes and frock coat were laid across a chair and he was left with a long sleeved, white shirt buttoned up practically to his chin. The sleeves had been rolled to mid-forearm perhaps for practicality in dealing with potions, or perhaps from the heat. She had never realized how thin her professor was.
“Amazing, isn’t it?” Snape drawled drily. Hermione started.
“Sorry. What is, sir?” Snape sneered, but did not waste a glance at her as he continued to chop roots with a smooth efficiency she had to admire.
“The concept that three cauldrons can be tended to simultaneously.” He answered. Oh. Well that certainly explained a few things. Hermione stepped cautiously toward the opposite side of the workbench to glance at the potions. From the ingredients out on the table she thought it must be a type of healing potion. She watched across the table in silent awe as Snape stirred each cauldron one last time and placed stasis charms on them. Then, he leaned forward on his arms and exhaled in satisfaction. “They need to sit,” he said simply. “Do you have an essay for me?”
Hermione immediately withdrew the thick scroll of parchment on which she had outlined the many different possible cures that could have been used to heal Arthur’s snakebite and handed it to her professor.
“What’s this?” he sneered. She met his penetrating gaze in confusion. They were directly across from each other with only the table separating them and even leaned over she was struck by how tall he was.
“It’s… it’s the assignment… Professor…” she managed. To her astonishment, he then unrolled it, took one look at how long it was, and then balled it up and tossed it over his shoulder. Hermione gawked at him.
“I gave you one question, Granger. Now, tell me the answer.” He was leaning across the table again, looking annoyingly triumphant about it all.
“I-I don’t know, sir.” He raised his eyebrows and she hastened to recover. “That is… I wasn’t there...” but he cut her off.
“Miss Granger I have no doubt that you did the research required. I do not need a detailed recording of the texts you have read on the subject. I assure you, I already know it all. What I want is for you to take all of that information and come up with an answer. If you had to guess what they used, what would you say?” Hermione hesitated. She had covered all the bases in her essay. She had outlined all of the possibilities. “That is, of course, unless you are incapable of individual thought…”
“Dittany,” she blurted. She had been unsure about the effects of dark magic on the use of dittany and had been leaning toward a poison antidote, but something compelled her to say dittany anyway.” Snape considered her a moment.
“Interesting,” he murmured thoughtfully. “I did not expect you to come to that conclusion, Granger.”
“Am I right?” she couldn’t help but ask.
“I…” he began hesitantly, looking down at the table, “I could not tell you. I do not know for sure, myself.” His eyes shifted to hers and she blushed at the curious look he was giving her. “But my guess would be dittany as well.” She tried to look modest, but couldn’t help the shy grin that started to spread across her face. He straightened to his full height, intimidating the young Gryffindor despite the absence of his characteristic robes. “These are ready to bottle,” he declared, gesturing to the cauldrons. And Hermione had the sense that he was breaking the moment, then had to snort at the idea of having “a moment” with Snape.
They worked together in silence for a few hours to finish the list of potions from the day before as well as a new set for today. Snape initially griped about how he could be grading papers, but had to assist her because she was already behind. But then they had both been so concentrated on their work that neither had spoken a word for the remainder of the time. The silence was almost… companionable.
Hermione found that brewing multiple potions at once was not as overwhelming as she had imagined (as least when it was multiple batches of the same potion). When Snape finally called it a day, they had managed to complete both lists and—Hermione was proud to note—she hadn’t ruined a single batch.
Together, they returned jars of ingredients to the storeroom and cleaned up the rest of the mess left behind by a day’s job well done. She felt a strong sense of relief as her muscles and mind were able to rest from the strain of the brewing. I never realized how much work it could be!
Snape was worn out too, if the sweat on his brow was any indication. He wiped his forehead and she caught herself staring at the pale flesh of his forearms. Merlin, he’s pale. But she was surprised to note that his forearms weren’t just thin, as she would have expected. There was a definite tone of muscle, probably from all that brewing, and she could see blue veins lacing all the way from the edge of his shirt sleeve to his long, graceful hands.
“Something puzzling you, Miss Granger?” Snape snapped almost angrily.
“What? No!” she blurted as her face began to flush, “I was just…” she couldn’t think of any valid excuse for staring as she had. “…thinking about something,” she finished lamely. He sneered.
“Well,” he began wickedly, “if you’re finished… thinking, you can take your things and run along back to your tower.”
“Yes, sir,” she agreed immediately, and grabbed her bag. As she was heading for the door, however, he stopped her.
“Granger?”
“Sir?” she turned back to him as he strode toward her, slowly and deliberately. Her heart began to race unaccountably. He held out a book to her and she hesitantly took it from him.
“It is against my better judgment to lend you one of my personal tomes, but I think you have a bit more respect for the written word than your little friends. Have it read as soon as possible and bring it back to me.”
Hermione’s chest was constricting with excitement at the prospect of borrowing one of Professor Snape’s Potions books. “Yes, sir,” she gasped. He sneered, then turned away. “Sir?” she began again before she could stop herself. He didn’t stop, or look at her when he replied.
“What, Granger?” she couldn’t help a little smile.
“Could I possibly have my essay back?”

…*~*J*~*…
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A Lesson in Loyalty