A New Beginning (DH -COMPLIANT)

Chapter 24 ~ Harvesting and Initial Connections

Snape and Hermione landed on the ledge, the Potions master releasing the red-faced witch. He looked at her uncomfortably, his face slightly contorted. It was clear by her flushed expression that his little faux pas didn’t go unnoticed. He didn’t want the witch thinking that he had purposely put her in that situation. What happened was just . . . unfortunate.

”Mrs. Weasley, I am very sorry for my . . . reaction to you. I have not held a witch in such a manner in many, many years. It was not intentional, believe me,” the wizard said to her apologetically.

Hermione blinked at him, then weakly said, “It’s all right, Professor.”

Her heart was still pounding however. Maybe it wouldn’t have been so bad if Hermione hadn’t actually seen the monster the Professor had swinging between his legs. As far as the witch was concerned, imagining it erect was worse than feeling it erect. Still, it seemed he hadn’t really meant anything. He wasn’t trying to take advantage of her proximity. He said it was just a reaction to having a woman in his arms. The Professor had been alone a very long time. Most likely what he said was true. Hermione never had the impression the wizard was a lecher when she went to Hogwarts. In fact, she thought the opposite. That he didn’t deal with witches at all. He was too cold, too disciplined, too incapable of feeling to be a pervert.

Snape looked at her for another moment or two, then removed his bag, opening it and taking out several items. He handed her a pair of gloves, a hairnet and a face-mask.

“Put those on,” he said to the witch as he donned his own items. When they were both situated, he told her to take out her wand.

“Use the Lumos spell, but keep the light as dim as you possibly can while still being able to see. We don’t want to expose the fungus to too much light.”

Then he took out what appeared to be a wooden knife, a few dark plastic bags and his wand. He pointed his wand at Hermione, who looked at him with wide eyes.

“Puris” he said, waving it over her, then himself.

“Just a purification spell. I don’t want to take any chances on contamination,” the Potions master said, “Now light your wand and follow me.”

Snape lit his wand, a rather dull glow and climbed through the fissure. Hermione did the same and followed him.

The cave was black as pitch, and it took Hermione’s eyes a little time to adjust to the dull light. She followed the wizard’s slight illumination until it stopped.

Snape shined the light along the wall. A low-lying mass of dark brown fungi clung to the wall.

”Here it is,” he said, almost breathlessly, sticking his wand into a small hole in the cave wall so it set like a tiny torch. It illuminated about a square foot of area.

”You’ll find another hole about a third of the way down. Put your wand in it,” the wizard instructed.

Hermione obeyed, then accepted a black plastic baggy from the Potions Master.

”Hold that as flush to the wall as possible under where I am scraping, pulling out the lip so it forms a pouch. Don’t worry about pressing on the fungi. It has marvelous hold. It has to be removed,” Snape said, resting the blade of the wooden knife just above the mold line.

Hermione moved forward and held the bag beneath the Professor’s knife as he directed. Then he began to scrape, the bits of fungi falling neatly into the bag, the wizard moving downward and Hermione adjusting her position so she caught everything.

The only noise in the cave was that of the scraping and the two of them breathing. When Snape finished the area, he told her to remove the air and seal the bag. Hermione retrieved her wand, the cave darkening a bit as she used it to remove the air and seal the bag of fungus. She relit her wand and handed the bag to the Potions master, who held it up for a moment, then nodded curtly, placing it inside his satchel and handing her another bag.

It took them about three hours to collect all the fungi. Hermione wasn’t the least bit bored. The wizard was so meticulous . . . it was like watching a master at work. They collected fifteen bags of Susarium Folani and it was easy to tell the Professor was quite pleased. He turned his wand up fully and looked at Hermione.

”An excellent harvest, Mrs. Weasley. I would have lost a third of the fungus if I were working alone. Expect a little bonus in your pay,” the wizard said, a hint of a smile on his face as he added the last bag to his bulging satchel.

“It was fascinating, Professor. Thank you for bringing me,” the witch responded with her own smile, removing her gloves, mask and hair net as the wizard did the same.

Snape looked at her for a moment, then said, “It is time for me to get you back to the site and put away my ingredients.”

Hermione nodded.

It had been nice to do something different, though she enjoyed her work immensely, and it was even nicer to have company. She felt she needed to say this.

”Professor, it was nice working with you. I don’t mind solitary labor especially when I’m concentrating on something, but it is nice to have a flesh and blood person to interact with as well,” Hermione said as the wizard made his way through the fissure.

He looked back at her.

”I imagine that your weekends away provide you with enough contact to sustain you through the week,” he said to the witch as he looked up at the night sky. It was full of stars.

”Well, it’s nice, but you know it’s family and friends and we just . . . chit chat. I can’t have an interesting discussion about Potions or Charms or Theory . . .” she said hesitatingly, then hastily added, “But I enjoy them very much. It’s just sometimes I wish there was a bit more . . .”

Snape looked at her.

“I imagine now that you’re away from your domestic lifestyle, your brain is begging to be fed,” he commented.

Snape knew how she felt. It had been a long time for intelligent conversation for him as well.

“I guess you could say that,” Hermione said, then she hesitated again. She really would like to sit down and just talk with the wizard. Professor Snape had been a brilliant teacher. No doubt he was still brilliant.

Snape looked at her.

“I can tell you want to ask me something, Mrs. Weasley. Your mannerisms have not changed all that much over the years,” he said to her, “So whatever it is, ask.”

“I was wondering if we could . . . could meet maybe one evening a week and just . . . just talk, Professor. I’d like to have a bit of intelligent conversation in my life and you are one of the most intelligent people I’ve ever met. I don’t want to be intrusive, however. I know you’re used to solitude . . .”

Her voice trailed off. She didn’t know what else to say.

“I’m afraid my timetable would clash with yours, Mrs. Weasley. You see, on Friday mornings I ship off my completed potions and other projects and then prepare my labs for the next week’s work. Weekends are the only time I have any truly free time, and you leave the premises on Friday evenings,” the wizard said.

Hermione looked at him.

”I could leave on Saturday morning, rather than Friday night. The children are back in school now, and they were the main reason I would leave early. Actually, now that I have free range of the site, I probably won’t leave every single weekend, Professor. Only once in a while, so I don’t wear out my welcome at the Burrow and Harry’s house,” she said.

It really wasn’t good to pop in on people EVERY weekend. It was fine when Hugo and Rose were about, because she could do her motherly duties and such, but now that they were back at Hogwarts, it just wasn’t as important she constantly show up. She’d feel like a burden, though both Harry and Molly would heartily disagree.

Snape didn’t say anything for a moment as he looked at her consideringly. She had that eager look in her eye that said, “There’s knowledge afoot.”

“If you are willing to give up an evening to talk, Mrs. Weasley, then I will accommodate you, if only to insure your brain doesn’t atrophy any further from lack of intellectual stimulation,” he conceded. “Expect me this Friday at about seven.”

”Oh, that’s wonderful, Professor!” Hermione said, “And we can make an evening of it. Have a bit of food and drink as well. Maybe dinner before we get down to it.”

Hm. That didn’t sound too bad at all.

”Make it so, Mrs. Weasley,” he said to her with a wry smirk. She was turning this into an adult version of a tea party. Well, it would be good to spend some time away from his home and work his own mind a bit. Hermione was a ferocious debater in her time. Hopefully she hadn’t lost her talent for it. He’d like a bit of verbal sparring.

Hermione smiled as she just stepped into the wizard’s arms, the earlier situation all but forgotten.

“Locomordes,” the wizard said, holding her tight against him and stepping off the ledge.

This time he didn’t get an erection, though he was still aware of her curves. Hermione let out a stream of chatter as he flew with her directly to the worksite, asking him about what topics he’d like to discuss, what kind of food he liked, all types of questions to which he gave short one word answers. Hermione didn’t even notice.

The wizard landed gently and released her.

”You are safely returned, Mrs. Weasley,” he said to the witch, an amused look on his face. He hadn’t heard so many words in years.

Hermione looked around, still clinging to his neck.

”Oh, so I am,” she said, releasing him.

Snape looked at her as she smiled up at him, genuinely happy. He couldn’t remember the last time he made anyone happy about anything, least of all, his presence.

”So I’ll see you Friday at seven?” Hermione asked, seeking confirmation.

”At seven sharp,” the wizard said as the door to the building swung open.

”Hermione Weasley is authorized for entry,” the female voice announced.

”Good night, Professor,” Hermione said, still smiling as she entered the site.

”Good night, Mrs. Weasley,” the wizard replied, then disapparated as the door swung closed.

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Eli and Hermione had their first run-in on Friday afternoon.

”I always cooks my master’s meals,” the house elf said to Hermione after deliver a raw chicken and assorted vegetables.

”Well you won’t ‘cooks’ his meal tonight, Eli. He’s my guest and I want to make a good impression,” the witch said, carrying the chicken over to the sink and washing it thoroughly, pulling out the giblets and neck.

”Then you should lets Eli cook,” the elf retorted.

“No. I am making chicken stew,” the witch said, drying off the chicken and setting it on a cutting board on the counter. She took a large sharp knife out of a drawer and began to bone it.

”He won’t likes it,” Eli said, folding his arms across his chest and scowling at the witch. How dare she try to do his service?

Hermione spun on him.

“Have you ever made him chicken stew?” she asked the elf.

”No. Because he never asks for it,” Eli replied.

”Maybe he never thought of it. I’m making it Eli and that’s final. But you can make dessert, all right?” Hermione said to the elf as she went back to dressing the chicken, figuring allowing the elf to fix something would shut him up.

“Fine,” Eli said, winking out.

Ron and everyone else loved Hermione’s chicken stew. It was the one thing she made that she was completely confident about. She thought the wizard might appreciate a real home-cooked meal by a witch. Hermione was still rather domestic and had a strongly developed nurturing gene. Most likely, Severus Snape had never been ‘nurtured’ in his life.

Hermione got it right. The pale wizard tasted the stew and a true look of bliss crossed his face.

“This, Mrs. Weasley is delicious,” he said to the witch, “It seems your domestic years had some benefit.”

Hermione grinned from ear to ear.

”Ron loved it,” she said, then fell silent for a moment.

”Mr. Weasley had good taste,” Snape commented, filling his fork again.

They finished their meal, the Professor having wine with his and Hermione drinking milk.

Eli brought a small chocolate cake for his offering, giving Hermione a smug look before winking out.

Professor Snape cut a large slice for himself and a smaller one for Hermione. The witch had to admit it was delicious.

After the meal, Hermione and Snape retired to the study. At first the conversation was tentative and polite, the two feeling each other out. It was when Professor Snape said he always believed Potions were more challenging than Charms that the fire started and he found himself embroiled in a rather passionate debate with Hermione, who leaped out of her chair and strode back and forth like a preacher raining down fire and brimstone.

The wizard was delighted and they argued far into the night. It was after one o’clock in the morning before they agreed to disagree. Time had flown by.

“Well, Mrs. Weasley, it appears I have worn out my welcome,” Snape said, rising.

Hermione could keep arguing for the rest of the night. Her face was flushed and she was highly animated. The debate had been good for her, doubly so because for the first time in her life she was able to tell the Professor exactly what she thought without fear of detention or point loss. And she took it to the mats.

“No, you haven’t worn out your welcome, Professor. It’s just late. I really enjoyed tonight,” the witch said. He really had been excellent company.

”As did I, Mrs. Weasley,” he said, a slight smirk on his face, “I haven’t been roared at in that manner since I was a student myself. It was quite refreshing.”

“Professor, could you call me by my name. Hermione?” the witch asked him suddenly.

It felt as if they were becoming . . . dare she think it . . . friends.

The wizard looked at her.

”I suppose if I did that, you would like to call me by my given name as well, Mrs. Weasley?” he asked her, frowning slightly.

”It would be nice, but I could still call you Professor. I’m used to it,” she replied.

Snape looked at her.

”Very well, Hermione. I will relax my standards and call you by your given name if that’s what you want,” he conceded, “Though I prefer my title.”

”That’s fine, Professor,” Hermione said, with a smile, handing him his cloak.

The Professor put it on and fastened it slowly, looking thoughtful. He had really enjoyed himself tonight. He hadn’t sat and talked this way with a witch since Lily.

“I suppose you will be leaving the site tomorrow?” he asked the witch.

”I haven’t decided yet,” Hermione said to the wizard, walking him to the apartment door.

”If you decide you are going to remain on the premises, I am going to do a walkthrough through my fields tomorrow. I thought . . . I thought perhaps you might like to join me and familiarize yourself with my work,” the wizard said, “But only if you’re so inclined.”

Hermione blinked up at him. The area was still a mystery to her. The idea of Snape revealing its secrets was quite tempting. Hell, she really didn’t have anything to look forward to other than a lot of chatting about nothing and being dragged from shop to shop by either Ginny or Molly. She’d much rather make the rounds with the Professor and learn about the fields.

“I’m so inclined. What time?” she asked him.

”Eleven,” the wizard said, “By then you will have had adequate rest. Wear comfortable shoes. There is much walking involved.”

“I’ll be sure to,” the witch replied, walking up the corridor with the wizard.

Snape stopped and looked at her.

”Thank you for an enjoyable evening, Mrs. . . . Hermione,” the wizard said, correcting himself.

This name change was going to take some time to get used to.

”Good night, Professor,” Hermione said, smiling as the door opened, the female voice announced the wizard’s departure and Snape walked out into the night. The crack of apparition followed him.

Hermione watched the door closed and nearly floated back to her room, feeling lighter than air. It had been a very enjoyable night, just as the Professor said. He was very good company and obviously needed socialization just as much as she did. The witch didn’t remember him being so . . . so pleasant. But then again, those were dark times and he had much on his plate. He was a different man then. Life had changed very much for the Professor. He had to have changed with it in order to continue on.

Well, it seemed as if it were a good change.

Hermione removed her clothing and went to bed, falling asleep with a smile on her face as she dreamed about walking through the woods with a tall and dour wizard.

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A/N: Moving along quite nicely. Thanks for reading.