You Know What They Say about Necessity...

A/N: Well, here it is! And a very longer chapter to boot! Hope everyone enjoys it. This is the end of "phase one" of my story. When I post again, it will be set a month or so down the road from here.

And *that,* dear readers, is where I'd like some help from *you.*

I'm going to change themes for the chapter titles, and I'd like some suggestions from you. Make it difficult for me if you want; I love a challenge. So if you have any ideas, please share them. I'd like to stick with song titles, but there's a lot more out there than what I've used so far. Maybe songs from musicals? TV shows? Movie soundtracks? Don't be shy if you have an idea!

Thanks as alway my my readers/reviewers: you make me smile. "Turn, Turn, Turn" is by the Byrds.

Disclaimer: Not mine, don't want it, too much responsibility. Happy just to borrow.


Chapter Fifteen: Turn, Turn, Turn


On the whole, dinner was not turning out to be the uncomfortable experience Severus had thought it would. The beef wellington was neither dry nor overcooked, though it seemed a bit bland; and the strawberry vinaigrette dressing for the salad, while tasty, was just a bit too, well, vinegar tasting to suit him. Not a bad meal, Severus reflected as he lifted another forkful of salad towards his mouth, but I imagine Potter would’ve done an even better job.

He dropped his fork with a clang onto his plate. Where in Hades did that come from! Were food and sexual relief somehow combining to addle his brain? It must be the curse, he decided quickly. Not only did he have memory lapses and confusions, now hs gos going insane as well.

“Severus?” Lupin asked, frowning. “Are you all right?”

“Yes,” he growled. He picked the fork up and speared more salad to replace what had fallen off, all but shoved it into his mouth, and began chewing viciously.

Remus laughed. “Welxcusxcuse me for asking.”

“You’re excused,” Severus said placidly after swallowing.

Hermione smiled. “Honestly, you’re both ridiculous sometimes.”

“One of us more frequently than the other,” Lupin couldn’t resist sa.
.

Severus rolled his eyes but made no retort. Lupin rose and headed into the kitchen to bring out dessert. “So, Hermione,” Remus called from the other room. “Are you looking forward to helping Severus with the Wolfsbane?”

Severus looked chagrined and uncomfortable, which didn’t escape Hermione’s notice. She realized that he realized that he hadn’t told her. She now had two choices on how to handle this situation. As she’d suspected this topic would come up during the course of the evening, she’d thought of two very different responses. Looking at Severus’ tense, drawn features, she was glad she had; because while initially she wasn’t certain how she would decide to react, seeing him like this made her decision for her without hesitation.

“Oh, yes!” she called cheerfully. “It will be a wonderful learning experience for me, and who knows? I t get get some ideas for future healing projects.”

Severus stared at her in something akin to amazement, but whether it was because she already knew or because of how she handled the question she couldn’t say. Either way, the wariness on his face was replaced with a cautious gratitude that pleased her greatly.

“I thought you’d say something like that,” Remus answered as he came back to the table, a steaming dish of jam roly-poly in his hands. Further contemplation was brought to a halt for the time being as Lupin dished out the aromatic treat. It was excellent; just the right mixture of custard and jam. Severus consumed it with gusto, idly wondering why Potter hadn’t made anything like this yet, instead of always serving fresh fruit or a packaged dessert.

“Remus, this is delicious,” Hermione said. “I wish Harry would start making some sweets from scratch.”

Remus smiled. “Well, Harry’s a great cook, but he’s not had much experience at making dessert, you know. I never got around to showing him that at Grimmauld Place when he was younger, and even now he’s so busy I usually do most of the cooking.”

Severus looked at Remus. “You are the one who taught Potter how to cook?” he asked, surprised.

Remus laughed. “Of course I am. How else did you think he learned?”

“I hadn’t given the matter any thought, actually,” Severus said loftily. And that was true… until now.

Of course those abominable muggles he’d lived with—what were their names? Oh, yes, the Dursleys—would not have shown him how to cook. From what Albus had told him long ago, and from what he’d seen in Potter’s mind during Occlumency, the Dursleys would just as soon have tortured Harry as anything else. And of course, he wn’t n’t have learned any culinary skills at Hogwarts, what with house elves taking care of everything. After Black’s death, Grimmauld Place had passed to Harry per Black’s will, but since Harry was only fifteen at the time, his wizarding guardian had kept it in trust until Harry was seventeen, that guardian being Lupin. So yes, it did make sense that Lupin had taught him. But if what Severus had sampled so far held true to form, Potter had surpassed his teacher in cooking.
heldheld back a snort. So the boy could be taught something without a hassle and headache. Not that Severus would’ve believed it from his first years of potions class. Potter had barely managed to pass, which at the time had filled Severus with sadistic glee. The son of the great James Potter, a failure! But in Potter’s sixth year, that gloating had come back to haunt Severus in the worst possible way.

“Potter wants to be an auror,” Minerva said to Severus in the teacher’s lounge at the start of first term.

“And what, pray tell, does that have to do with me?” Severus sneered.

“You know good and blasted well what I'm alluding to!” Minerva retorted. “All his work is average or exemplary, except in your class.”

“It is hardly my fault if Potter lacks the finesse and skill required for potions,” Severus shrugged.

“Oh, but I rather think it does have something to do with you, Severus,” Minerva answered. “But we’re going to change that.”

“Oh? How so?” Severus asked, sneering again.

Minerva gave him the most angelic smile he’d ever seen from her.

“You’re going to tutor him every week.”

He stared at her, then he gave a swift bark of laughter. “You’re joking.”

“I can assure you, Severus, that I am not,” she answered.

“Then you’ve gone mad,” he hissed, rising, “if you can think for even an instant that I am going to waste my valuable time tutoring Potter in anything!” He made to leave, but found his path blocked by Minerva.

Her gaze was so livnd cnd cold that for a second Severus had the irrational fear that she’d been possessed by the Dark Lord. Minerva McGonagall was not head of Gryffindor for nothing, and Severus was about to be reminded of that in a most unpleasant manner.

“Oh, yes, you will!” she hissed back at him. “You will do it for several reasons, Severus. One: Albus wants you to. Two: I made a promise to Potter, and I will keep it in the best way I can, even if I have to call in the debt you owe me. If I had the skill, I’d tutor him myself, but I don’t. You are the only one who does. You’re the best Potions Master this school has seen in a hundred years. And finally: Potter must be prepared for any eventuality for what is to come; as prepared as we can make him. It could be the difference between him succeeding and failing. So unless you want to go back to groveling at the feet of He-Who-Is-A-Pain, I suggest you reconsider your refusal!”

Severus stared at her. “You would be willing to call in my debt to you for this.”

“Yes.”

He shook his head. “Why does this bloody boy have this effect on people! Everyone loves Potter: oh, he’s so nice and brave and good.” Severus made a disgusted face. “Let’s do everything we can to make his life easier. He’s had it so rough, after all. Gods know nobody else has!”

“That’s not the issue and you know it!” Minerva spat. “No one can deny all you have done, Severus. And when this war is over, if you don’t get an Order of Merlin, First Class, you’ll find me making some very nasty threats to Fudge. But right now Potter needs help. All our help. If you can’t find it in yourself to stop hating him because of James, find it in yourself to help him so he can fulfill the prophesy and get rid of You-Know-Who once and for all.”

Severus sighed. “And you say Albus wishes me to do this as well?”

“He does.”

“And you will consider my debt to you paid?”

“If he makes at least an “E” on his potions NEWT as a result, yes.”

“You don’t ask for much, do you, Minerva?” he asked bitterly.

She smiled at him, and it was a genuinely warm smile. “I ask for what I know you’re capable of.”

“And what of Potter?” he asked. “I cannot imagine he’s pleased with the prospect.”

“No, he isn’t,” she said shortly. “But he realizes it needs to be done, and he will do it.”

“I’ll expect him to be respectful and mindful,” Severus said gruffly.

“He will be,” she replied. “And I expect you to treat him fairly and congenially.”

He glowered. “Very well, Minerva. Tell him I will see him in my office at six o’clock Wednesday evening, not not to be late.”

“Of course,” she agreed pleasantly. She neatly sidestepped him, watching with a smirk as he stormed off.

To say that the tutoring had gone badly at first would have been a kindness. Both of them were angry and sullen, speaking only when necessary. More than once did Severus consider going to Albus and Minerva and saying that he was going to resign, he wanted to go live in a cave somewhere and finish out his days in peace and quiet. But gradually, without being tormented by Malfoy or overly antagonized by Severus, Potter began to make progress. In seventh year, Potter astounded Severus and probably the entire school by striding up to Albus and Minerva at breakfast the morning the results came back and all but slapping the piece of paper down on the table..

“O’s,” Potter exclaimed in triumph. “All O’s!”

The staff went mad, pounding Potter on the back, hugging him and telling him they’d known all along he could do it. Potter smiled and thanked everyone, then moved to stand before Severus and extended his hand.

“Thank you, sir,” Potter said gravely. “I could never have done this without your help.”

Severus studied him warily, expecting it to be some kind of joke. But the young man seemed sincere, so he slowly, grudgingly, reached out and clasped Potter’s hand.

“You’ve surprised us all, Potter,” Severus said. And then, because Minerva was shooting daggers at him with her glare, he reluctantly added: “well done.”

Potter nodded, and was about to say something else, but at that moment all his Gryffindor friends came running up to him demanding to know what was going on, and there was much excitement, and whatever he’d been about to say was lost.

Severus returned to the present with a jolt and a silent sigh. No, he’d been forced to admit, Potter wasn’t the idiot Severus had once believed him to be, had wanted him to be. And he’d hated that realization as much as everything else.

Hermione was grinning at Remus. “So when is the wedding?”

“Not for a few months,” Remus answered. “I had no idea there could be so much involved in a wedding! Which reminds me, Hermione: Nymphadora would like you to stand with her. She’s asked Molly, Ginny, and Minerva as well.”

Hermione smiled. “Oh, I’d love to!”

“I figured you would,” he told her. “You’ll have to get together with her and work out the details. I’m trying to stay out of it as much as possible.”

“Typical man,” Hermione retorted.

“Not entirely!” Remus defended himself. “I’m picking out things for the groom and taking care of all that. And I’m designing the menu. But come on, Hermione: what man really knows the difference between orchid and plum?”

Hermione was about to laugh and agree with him when Severus said: “Orchid is a combination of magenta and purple, while the traditional plum color is a gradient blend of lavender and grey.”

As Hermione and Lupin stared at him, Severus added casually: “Of course, there are medium and dark shades of orchid, as well as plum: what exactly did Miss Tonks have in mind, Lupin? You wouldn’t want to clash, you know.”

“How in blazes do you know all that?” Lupin exclaimed, voice somewhere between surprise and admiration.

Severus arched his eyebrows. “Come now, Lupin. I’m a Potions Master. How could I not know every possible color when that could make all the difference in telling what a potion is, or whether or not a potion has been made properly? For example: Heart’s Ease, which is similar to Calming Draught, is sky blue, whereas the Calming Draught is powder blue. Of course, if a restorative has been added, say, ground lomat, the Heart’s Ease will turn to slate blue, while the Calming Draught will become royal blue.”

He stretched and gavem a m a smug look.

“Bloody hell,” Lupin said in awe. “Maybe I should get you to do the colors, Severus.”

“You do not possess that much money, Lupin,” Severus said, but his tone was light.

“That was brilliant, sir,” Hermione said to Severus. “There aren’t that many color variations in healing potions. I knew it was complex, but I had no idea there was that much distinction. Thank you for sharing that example with us.”

It was on the tip of Severus’ tongue to tell her that if she’d accepted his apprenticeship, she would have known the answers even before he’d explained the differences. But that would serve no purpose except to make her feel he was belittling her choice again, and in truth he wasn’t. It was, after all, her life; and she had the right to choose how to live it. He couldn’t say why it was suddenly important to him not to hurt her feelings, but it was. Perhaps the aftermath of his earlier carnal imaginings had made him more disposed to kindness towards her. Or guilt. Severus didn’t feel guilt often, but when he did, he felt it sharply. What had seemed quite harmless earlier now left him wondering at the wisdom, or lack thereof, of his actions.

He realized Hermione was looking at him expectantly. He managed a thin smile. “Thank you, Miss Granger. I’m glad to see someone at this table can appreciate the subtleties of potion making.”

“I always have. You were an excellent teacher,” she said softly.

Severus dropped his eyes so that she wouldn’t see the effect her words had. No one, no student, had ever said such a thing to him. At least, no non-Slytherin. He had grown accustomed to that flattery, which was done only out of a desire to try and get on his “good side.” That was a joke: he didn’t have one. Not for insipid fools only seeking to bolster their grades with their insincere prattling. This was a genuine compliment, and he was taking it very badly as he wasn’t used to getting those.

Hermione looked down as well, thinking she’d embarrassed him. She rose from her chair. “If you’ll excuse me,” she said.

Remus enfolded her in a warm hug. As he did, Severus caught a faint whiff of her soap, which he'd not noticed earlier and was different than her usual kind. It smelled of roses and passionflowers, and Severus’ groin tightened while his blood roared in his ears. She smiled tentatively at him as she passed. “I’ll be in the library shortly,” she called.

Once she was gone, Lupin turned to Severus. “Severus Snape. I never thought I’d see the day.”

“What are you going on about, Lu”
”

“You. Hermione.” Lupin grinned. At Snape’s look of confusion, he elaborated: “You, my good man, are attracted to Hermione.”

“Will you ever outgrow the need to be absurd?” Severus asked in exasperation. “I am no more attracted to Miss Granger than you are attracted to Mad Eye Moody.”

Lupin wagged a finger at him. “Now, now, Severus. You’re insulting my intelligence, not to mention my nose.” He smirked as Snape digested the implication of his words in dismay. Damn Lupin and his heightened senses, Severus thought.

“Must you be so base?” Snape sighed.

“I’m trying to prove a point,” Remus said. “You can deny it all you want, but we both know you’re attracted to her.”

“And what if I am?” Severus asked scathingly. “It is none of your concern.”

“She’s my friend,” Lupin said quietly. “And believe it or not, I happen to care about you, as well.”

“Me,” Severus echoed.

“Yes, you. You’re what, almost forty-two? And you’ve been alone all your life. It’s not healthy, Severus.”

“Have you by chance been talking with Albus?” Snape inquired wearily.

Remus smiled. “No. But I’m sure he’s said something similar. Live a little, Severus. It would do you some good.”

“I am quite alive, thank you, Lupin,” Severus said dryly.

“Yes, but you’re not living. There’s a difference, you know. Don’t just let this pass you by. You like Hermione, so do something about it!”

“I am disturbed that you seem to think I have somehow been transformed into a Gryffindor,” Snape said. “What, pray tell, should I “do” about it?”

“Get to know her better. Let her get to know you.”

“She’d run screaming,” Severus sighed.

“She hasn’t done that yet,” Remus argued. “Look, just… give it a chance, ok? Trust me when I tell you this: you don’t appreciate what you’ve got until you almost lose it.”

His grey eyes darkened, and Severus knew Lupin was remembering the times not too long ago when Tonks had gotten hit by Death Eater curses and her future had been uncertain. Those had been bleak days for the werewolf: sitting beside her in St. Mungo’s, waiting to see if she would recover. But she had: and, realizing that he loved her, Remus had sworn he’d not wait any longer. So he’d begun to court her, and a few weeks ago, she’d accepted his proposal. He was the happiest man—or beast—around. And he wanted those he cared for to have that same happiness. It was one reason why he’d agreed to come and stay with Hermione and Severus: so Harry could go out with Ginny. Love was so precious, too precious to risk not having.

Severus looked at Lupin. The idea was absurd, wasn’t it? Hermione couldn’t possibly have any interest in him, her former potions professor, could she? And yet… he remembered her blushes, her shy, warm smiles. Could it be the thought was not so ridiculous after all? “I will take your advice into consideration, Lupin. And I would ask that you not speak of this to anyone.”

Remus grinned. “I’m not that bad, Severus. I’ll say nothing, trust me.”

“And I am to trust the word of a werewolf?” Severus asked, his voice almost gentle.

“You have before,” Lupin reminded him, eyes sparkling.

Severus gave him a faint smile. “So I have.”