A Turn for the Better

Chapter 24 ~ Detention with Snape

"What?" Hermione gasped, sucking in a huge lungful of stench in the process.

"I need you to strip down to your bra and knickers, over there," Snape said, pointing to a tall, black dressing partition Hermione hadn't noticed. An oddly colored robe was folded over the top of it, and silvery boots rested on the floor next to it.

"That is a specially designed protective garb," the wizard explained. "Working with basilisk can be dangerous because the fluids are particularly caustic. It will burn holes in your regular robes and shoes if it splashes on you. And it will become quite hot in here once the lab door is closed, so in order to be comfortable, you need to wear the minimal amount of clothing underneath. You will find a pair of matching gloves on a chair as well. Use the chair to hold your robes and undergarments."

Hermione let out a sigh of relief, although she felt a tiny pang of disappointment. For a moment it seemed as if Professor Snape was showing interest in playing catch-up with the timeline. For Hermione, it seemed as if their encounter had only happened a few weeks ago, while for Snape . . . . it had been decades.

Snape wanted to make sure Hermione was well-protected. Poor Neville was only given a very thick pair of dragonhide gloves, and it was hard to move his fingers in them, they were so stiff. He'd return to Gryffindor tower with holes in his robes and his shoes, having to repair them nightly. But, Neville was a wizard, he could take a bit of pain.

Now, Hermione was a different story. No pain for her. The robes and gloves were actually made of basilisk skin, which guaranteed protection against any substance created from the flesh and parts of the beast. It could breathe and also repel the brunt of any magical spell cast at it. Snape had carefully scraped and tanned the skin himself, then had it picked up and hand sewn by Madam Markin. The fasteners were made from the basilisk's bones, polished and shellacked. He planned to give them to her as a gift when her detention was completed. Of course, it wasn't really a gift. He would have had to provide protective robes for her as his apprentice anyway, but he'd seem more magnanimous this way.

Snape was very, very calculating. But to his credit, most robes were just regular ones charmed with a magical version of Scotchguard. Robes made out of basilisk skin were extremely rare and nearly priceless because of this. Madam Markin offered him a pretty Galleon to procure a couple of yards of the rare material.

Snape made her pretty up her offer significantly before agreeing to sell her three yards. The amount he charged her was slightly more than a year's salary. He had taken more of the skin to a magical cobbler, who tanned it and created Hermione's boots, which were knee high.

The Potions master wanted to make sure the witch was well-protected. He watched as Hermione walked behind the partition, then began to check the cauldrons as she changed into the magical robes and boots, doing his best not to look back as she draped robes, jeans, t-shirt and socks over the partition, pulling down her lab clothing. She put on the basilisk robes, light glinting off the softened scales prettily. She then pulled on the boots.

Wow. They felt so light. She had expected protective clothing to feel confining. She pulled on the gloves. They were thin and flexible. Neville must have been exaggerating when he claimed the Potions master gave him thick, heavy gloves that would barely bend.

Hermione stepped out from behind the partition, the robes glinting softly in the torchlight.

"How do I look?" she asked Snape, who turned around and studied her with disguised approval.

"You look as if your hair will catch on fire," he said, eyeing the curly riot of brown hair pointedly. "Tie it up. There are rubber bands in the right top drawer of my desk."

Hermione walked over to a desk in the corner of the lab, and pulled open the drawer. It was a jumble of clips, rubberbands, quill tips and other small items. As she shifted the stuff around, she noticed something at the bottom of the draw. It looked like a yellowed, photograph. It hadn't been taken very good care of. Something sticky was spilled on it. She pulled it out.

It was a photograph, and there on the picture was young Snape, looking sober as a redheaded young woman stood next to him, smiling and pushing on his shoulder, obviously trying to make him smile as well. Finally, he gave a tiny smirk. Then the picture returned to the beginning, a sober Snape and a witch forcing him to smile. He looked even younger than he did when she met him. Maybe about fifteen or so.

The woman looked vaguely familiar. She had red hair and green eyes.

"What's taking so long, Miss Granger?" Snape asked her.

"Oh, I'm looking at an old picture I found in the drawer. It's you when you were young and some girl with red hair," she said to him

Snape stirred the cauldron a bit slower.

"Throw it away," he said softly, but there was a hint of venom in his voice.

"What? Why? It's a picture of you and a friend. Why would you want to throw it away?" Hermione asked the wizard.

Snape turned to her, scowling, then walked over and plucked the picture out of her hand.

"I thought I'd gotten rid of this ages ago," he growled, "it means nothing to me."

He dropped it into the wastepaper basket without hesitation.

"Now, tie up your hair and come along. You are going to pickle parts this evening. It is very delicate work and the organs under stasis cannot be exposed to air while being transferred to the various solutions. The stasis spell has to be removed once the jars are sealed and put up to boil."

Hermione did as the wizard asked, tying up her hair and following him. She couldn't help but wonder who the young witch in the photograph was. Obviously, they had been friends once, but by the Potions master's reaction, it was a friendship that existed no longer. Hermione found that a bit sad, particularly when she thought about Harry in the alternate timeline.

Snape produced several different solutions, carefully pouring them into stone jars and labeling them. The cauldrons were also made of stone, with a bronze overlay to spread the heat evenly. Basilisk seemed to react to everything except stone. So it took a bit more time to render and brew with the ingredient.

He showed Hermione how to purify the outside of the organs under stasis, then drop them into the stone jars, placing a seal on top of the open mouth, then screwing on a cleverly made stone cap. Then, she removed the stasis spell and using a pair of padded tongs, she placed the stone jar into a regular, but huge cauldron simmering over a fire at the back of the lab. She wiped the sweat from her brow with her hand when she finished the first one. Those stone jars were heavy.

"Miss Granger, you need to get into the habit of carrying a cloth with you to wipe your brow," Snape said to her, producing one and handing it to her. "Now, you must Scourgify and purify your entire person. It is good practice to do this every time you switch tasks, using the magic on yourself, your utensils and your workspace."

Hermione blinked at him. There were so many tasks when working with potions. Half her time would be spent Scourgifying.

"Cleanliness is next to successfulness, Miss Granger. Most potions are ruined by contamination. If you develop the habit of consistently keeping everything clean and purified, it soon becomes second nature. If you are to be my apprentice, you must learn how to do this," he told her softly.

Hermione pulled out her wand and Scourgified and purified herself under Snape's watchful eye, then put her wand away, walking over to the counter, about to pick up a large piece of basilisk liver.

"Ah, you must also Scourgify the work area, Miss Granger, as well as all utensils. Some dust or other foreign object might have landed on it while you were attending the cauldron. That is why we keep everything covered. Later, after you've learned to do your cleansing automatically, you may skip this step by placing a magical blanket over your work area while you are away from it, thus protecting it from contamination.

Hermione pulled out her wand and Scourgified and purified the area, then got back to work. Snape hovered over her for three hours, constantly reminding her to clean and Scourgify. It became very annoying, but what was more annoying was that he was correct every time. She only managed to get a few jars into the cauldron before it was time to depart. Her head felt tight, and she was extremely stressed out.

The Potions master watched as she stalked behind the partition and changed back into her clothes. She had lost her initial excitement. Well, she would. Potions was work, no matter how much one thought they enjoyed it. Working with him in private was much different than in the classroom. He was exacting in class, but in private, Snape was positively anal. And that was what made him such a fine Potions master.

"You don't look very satisfied with your night's work, Miss Granger," the wizard said to her gently.

Hermione looked at Snape, her eyes rather wet.

"I was so slow and you had to keep correcting me," Hermione said sullenly.

She was used to working quickly and being next to perfect at everything.

Snape's lip quirked.

"Welcome to the real world, Miss Granger. The world of work. I expected you to be slow and in need of guidance and correction. It will be that way for at least a year under my instruction. You are not in a classroom now. In class, the standards although strict are not exacting. If you wish to become a Potions mistress, you will need to learn patience and restraint. You will have to be able to take correction without feeling as if you've failed. Everyone has to start at the beginning, Miss Granger, and you . . . are at the beginning again. Despite your marks in my class, you are simply entry level and will be that way for quite a while," Snape said to her softly, his black eyes glittering at her.

"So, you are going to have to find a way to dull that innate Gryffindor pride and humble yourself. There is a saying that states: 'the first element of greatness is fundamental humbleness.' You are going to have to learn that and live by it if you wish to excel."

Hermione blinked at him.

"That's not the whole quote, Professor. If you are going to use quotes on me, at least say them in entirety. That quote is by Margot Asquith, and the complete quotation is as follows:

“The first element of greatness is fundamental humbleness (this should not be confused with servility); the second is freedom from self; the third is intrepid courage, which, taken in its widest interpretation, generally goes with truth; and the fourth /the power to love /although I have put it last, is the rarest.”

Snape studied the witch staring back at him with a bit of challenge in her eyes and shook his head slightly.

"It is going to take some effort on my part to work with such a know-it-all, Miss Granger. It is my sincere hope that you will temper your . . . predisposition to prove what you know, keeping in mind I am not interested in knowing what you know, but in teaching you what I know. That is the purpose of being my apprentice," he told her, his eyes slightly narrowed. "If you are still interested, that is. My constant correction might have cooled your ardor, considering you are someone used to 'getting everything right' the first time."

Hermione scowled, affronted that he thought she couldn't take a bit of hard work and correction.

"Yes, I'm still interested," she said a bit huffily. "I can learn from my mistakes with the best of them."

Snape quirked his lip at her.

"How about with the worst of them, Miss Granger? I assure you there will be times you won't think you can do anything right. Our relationship as master/apprentice can become rather strained. There will be times you'll feel like little more than a servant, or even . . . a house elf. Do you think you could stand that, Miss Granger? Not having your brilliance acknowledged . . . or your ego . . . stroked? There will be no accolades from me when you do something difficult correctly. You will simply be doing what you are supposed to do. There will be times you're going to think I'm abusing you, taking advantage of your service . . . times when you will become so angry you'll want to walk away," the Potions master said, his eyes hard now.

"If you walk away from me, Miss Granger, you will not get a second chance. But if you have the fortitude and determination to excel, then I guarantee you will leave my tutalege in four years as one of the premiere Potions mistresses in Wizarding society. But it will be your choice in the end. I only hope that my faith in your abilities is not misplaced. I have never taken on an apprentice because I never found anyone that I believed could see it through . . . until you. How good a Mistress you become will be a direct reflection on me, Miss Granger, and I could be made a laughingstock in my field if I produce a less than stellar protégé. So I am invested as well as you."

Hermione stared at the Potions master. She never realized just how much he believed in her. Professor Snape didn't seem the kind of man who would just open himself up to ridicule. There was an element of deep trust here, and she could feel it as she looked at him. Her eyes softened significantly.

"Ah, let me go and get your pass to return to Gryffindor Tower," Snape said suddenly, billowing out of the lab rather quickly.

Softening eyes on Hermione Granger wasn't a good thing for a wizard who was already wrestling with his ethics. Hermione looked after him, then walked over to the wastepaper basket, pulling out the photograph. She studied it for a moment, Snape's somber visage. It seemed kind of wrong that he was standing next to someone so bubbly and . . . well . . . pushy. If Hermione had been taking the photograph with him, she would have let him take it as he was.

Hermione looked back at the lab door to see if he was returning. He wasn't. The witch then folded the picture so the girl wasn't visible, then creased it and tore her half off, letting it drop back into the wastebasket. She looked at young Snape, first sober, then smirking slightly.

She heard the wizard returning and quickly stuck the torn photo in her pocket.

"Here you go, Miss Granger," Snape said, handing her a small piece of parchment that would get her by Filch and anyone else patrolling the castle.

He led her to the classroom and open its door on the dungeon corridor.

"Now, return directly to Gryffindor Tower. That pass will self-destruct in fifteen minutes, and you will be on your own if you aren't safely in your house by then. Good night, Miss Granger. You did a fair job tonight . . . for a newbie."

"A newbie?" Hermione exclaimed, once again affronted.

She might not know everything about method and application, but she certainly was no newbie. She could spout off the ingredients and brewing methods of over one hundred potions, by heart! That had to count for something!

Snape looked at her with an arched eyebrow, waiting for her to defend herself in the true, self-important Gryffindor manner. As much as he appreciated the witch, she still had that one major flaw . . . being a Gryffindor.

Well, no one was perfect.

Hermione realized he was waiting for her to go on the defensive, and decided immediately not to do it. Instead, she gave him a gracious "thank you," and departed the classroom. Snape stepped out of the door to watch her walk to the end of the corridor and ascend the stairs. He closed the classroom, a slight smile on his face.

The witch was truly exceptional. He wisely told her that being his apprentice wouldn't be a picnic. At least she'd know it wasn't anything personal when he came down on her. He wanted to win Hermione over, but he also wanted her well prepared for her chosen field, even if she didn't return his affections when the time came to make them known.

There were a lot of handsome, young wizards out there, and it was very possible one might turn her head. If that were the case, he didn't intend to interfere. He wanted Hermione to come to him because it was in her heart to do so, not because he hexed away all his competitors, although that wasn't an unpleasant thought.

But it was a flawed approach. There would always be more interested young wizards no matter how many he frightened off. If Hermione desired him and only him, then the hordes of waiting wizards would have no influence.

In his idea of a perfect world, that's exactly how it would be.

Snape made one more cursory check of the cauldrons, then retired, feeling it had been quite a good night.

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Hermione lay in her bed, running a finger over the picture of Snape, remembering how it felt to touch his face so intimately in the Chamber of Secrets. He had acted the proper teacher tonight. She wondered if he ever thought about their night together. She had thought he was attracted to her the night he revealed she had indeed gone back into the past, but maybe what she thought was attraction was just his being uncomfortable at having to discuss something so intimate.

Maybe . . . maybe he thought their time had passed.

Hermione looked at the picture again, those dark eyes and his sober expression.

"Our time hasn't passed," she said to the photo softly. "In fact, it's barely begun."

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In his sparsely furnished bedroom, Severus Snape tossed and turned in his bed, once again haunted by his memories of a scantily clad witch appearing in his bedroom, and taking her thoroughly.

But this time, he was no overzealous, impatient seventeen year old.

And she was no virgin.

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A/N: At last, some Snape/Hermione interaction. Now, I KNOW you all didn't think Snape had anything inappropriate in mind when he told her to strip down to her bra and knickers, did you? No. Of course not. ;) Anyway, thanks for reading. We're going to have some transitory chapters next, so we can move to the next phase . . . Hermione graduating and becoming accessible. Yum!