Once Upon a Potion's Class [Complete]

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Title: Once Upon a Potion's Class

Chapter: 3 - Thy Golden Stair

Author: MallowCakes

E-Mail: DestinyElkins04@gmail.com

Rating: R; HG/SS

Warnings: Nothing so far.

Disclaimer: Not mine, otherwise I would be off being rich somewhere... and Snape would've lived... Ron would've died... you get the picture.

Distribution: By appointment only.

AN: Thank you to my beta reader, Lo. Without her I don't think I'd survive! ^_^




Hermione looked around to see where she was, a small window was on one
side of the room and a heavy chained door was on the other. The rest
of the room held a bed, a dresser, a vanity, some chairs and a few
odds and ends. Looking in the mirror, Hermione smiled to herself to
see the long blonde braid that reached far around the room and knew
that her plan had worked, at least so far.


Now, she just had to sit and wait.


A old woman's voice called from the window, "Rapunzel, Rapunzel, let
down your hair. So I may climb thy golden stairs."


"Great." Hermione grumbled to herself and hoisted herself up off the
bed. At least it worked, she told herself, she couldn't get too mad
about it. She walked over to the small window and let loose her long
braid down the tower.


Seconds later, a short, fat sorceress stood in front of her and
helped her pull her hair back into the room.


"What's the matter, Rapunzel?" The woman said, "Didn't you miss your
mother? You have a strange look on your face."


"What?" Hermione barely heard her, "No, no, mother. I'm fine. I just
didn't sleep very well last night. I felt like I had a pea under my
mattress."


She snickered under her breath at her own joke.


The woman gave her a strange look. "Be that as it may. I have come to
you today in hopes that you would sing me a lovely song. Do my old
heart some good."


Two things had shocked Hermione that probably shouldn't have. The
first, the witch wasn't entirely the mean old hag that she'd expected
her to be. Sure she was locked up in a tower and she was climbing up
her hair, which didn't feel great at all, but at least she wasn't
hexing her or something. Secondly, she had forgotten that Rapunzel had
indeed sung. That's what called the prince to her, how could she
forgot that part?


It wasn't that Hermione was a bad singer, quite the opposite
actually, but she certainly never sung in front of another person.
Here goes nothing, she thought to herself and she began to sing "Sing,
Sweet Nightingale" from the Muggle movie, Disney's Cinderella, the
irony did not escape her but it was one of her favourite songs.


After she had finished, the old woman smiled and thanked her before
conjuring her up a meal. She ate as the old woman sat and talked about
her day. She had 7 cats and she loved each of them equally. Her
favourite colour was green. Her mother had died 2 years ago from a heart
attack and she hated chickens. Not that she cared, but what other
entertainment was she going to get in here?


After she was done eating and the sun had begun to set on the
horizon, the old woman said her goodbyes and asked her to let her back
down so she did and she was alone in the tower to think about Severus
and to hope he was going to come and rescue her soon.


She wasn't sleepy yet so she sat on the end of the bed and sung
quietly to herself. If she was going to be doing this daily, she might
as well warm up her vocal cords. She didn't want to embarrass herself.
Imagine that.


After she got tired enough she went over to the huge, fluffy bed and
laid down. She fell asleep immediately.


When she woke up the next morning, she nearly fell over trying to get
out of bed. She wasn't used to the extra weight on her scalp yet. She
noticed a door that she didn't notice the day before. She went over
and opened the door. It led her to a moderately sized bathroom with a
closet.


Happily, she put on a hair net she found and got in the shower. She
changed into a pale green dress and went back into the bedroom. It had
been a long while since she'd been clean. They didn't have much water
during their Hansel and Gretel tale.


She sat around for a few and just before she thought she'd go stir
crazy, she heard the old woman at the bottom of the window again. She
let her in again and thought she'd have to sing again. Except this
time the woman conjured a large hairbrush and turned toward her.


"It's time to brush your hair, dear. Set down and let's begin." She
smiled big and squinted as Hermione grabbed the other chair and set
down with her back facing the witch.


Again, Hermione was silent as the lady spoke about her day. She went
to the market and tended to her garden that morning. Mort, the man
that owned the town general store asked her out for coffee and she
told him she had to think about it. She planted a few new flowers and
then came to visit.


After her hair was brushed out and braided again, she was asked to
sing. She did, of course. The old lady just sat and listened, smiling
the whole time. When she was done, she got up to leave the same way
she had entered and left Hermione alone again.


She has to admit she was getting kind of lonely. So, after some
thought, she decided to sit at the opening of the window and sing in
hopes that this would be the night for Severus to find her. But even
after a long while, no one came and she went to sleep with a small,
simple ache in her heart.


The next day was much the same as the others, but she held on to hope
and went through the motions. Again, after the lady left for the day
she found herself by the window. Where was he? She began to give up
on him, but quickly decided that he was a prince and maybe he did
have some duties to take care of first.


Doubt almost won out at first because she reasoned that maybe he had
decided that the life of a prince would be better than the life of a
greasy potion's master with a know it all student and her trouble
making friends. Then, she decided that there was probably nothing in
life that Professor Snape loved more than swooping around the
Hogwarts' dungeon, giving kid's detention and brewing potions.


Still, he never came, so again with that gnawing ache in her heart,
she went to bed and began a night of fitful sleep.


The next night, her waiting proved fruitful. As she was singing, she
heard rustling below in the bushes and the familiar voice she'd been
waiting to hear spoke.


"Miss Granger?"


Relief washed over her as she leant over the edge of the window
and saw a dark figure below.


"You're supposed to say...” She started.


"Yes, I realize I'm not sticking to your script. Just let me up."


She toyed with the idea of just telling him that if he didn't want to
play nice he could just go back to his palace, but she decided not to
for two reasons. First, she was sure it didn't matter what he said, as
long as the story continued as planned it would be fine. Secondly, she
didn't know what she'd do if he actually turned away and left her there.


She turned her back toward the window, braced herself and tossed her
hair down. She felt the tug start as he climbed up her hair and not a
moment later his tall silhouette stood framed against the night sky
shining in through the window. He wore nice clothes and a long robe.


His long, black
hair was washed and pulled back into a neat ponytail. Hermione felt
her heart thumb harder in her chest.


"Miss Granger." He smiled and bowed before her, "How have you been?"


"Imprisoned. You?" She raised an eyebrow, trying not to sound angry
at the time it took this night to arrive.


"Busy. I'm sorry it took so long." One side of his mouth rose, "I had
decrees to sign and idiot suitors to meet. I finally told the
Chancellor, who by the way looks creepily like Mr. Filch, last night that if he planned anything for me the next few
days I would have him hung at the earliest possible convenience."


Hermione found herself laughing despite herself.


"So what's it like being a prince?" She finally asked him.


"Boring." He told her, drawing out the word, "They wouldn't let me do
anything for myself. I always had someone following me around. Filling
my bath water. Cutting my steak. Fluffing my pillows. It gave me a
bloody headache."


She laughed again, "Sounds horrible."


"I suppose some people enjoy that, but it's just not my style."


She nodded.


"How was the being imprisoned?" He asked her, raising an eyebrow.


"Boring, also. The old witch that put me here, she visits me every
night, brushes my hair and makes me sing. She tells me about her day
and then she leaves. I thought that she'd be abusive or something. She
did imprison me in a tower, after all but it seems that she's just
lonely. I can understand that, she's in that house all alone all the
time."


"Have you been?"


"Been what?" Hermione questioned lightly with raised brows.


"Lonely?"


Hermione was slightly taken aback by the question and the sincere
look on his face. What was he playing at? Perhaps he was thinking of
her while he was away. Her heartbeat rose again.


"Yes." She breathed, not allowing herself to raise her voice in fear
that it might shake.


"I'm sorry." He said, matter of factly.


They sat there in silence a bit longer before Severus began talking
about how his life had gone the past few days.


The sun had begun to rise while they were talking and Hermione was
sad to tell them that he had to go before the woman had a chance to
come see her. He turned towards the window and she threw her hair over
allowing him to climb down.


"Remember," She said before he left, "You have to come back tomorrow
so the witch can catch you here."


"I remember." He whispered, "I have to be blind for this. You don't
forget something like that."


She smiled as he climbed down and she immediately jumped in bed
and fell asleep.


Hermione couldn't have known how long she was asleep before a loud
voice awoke her.


"Rapunzel!!! Rapunzel!!!" She could hear the old woman calling from
the base of the tower, "Where is that girl? I know you're up there.
Rapunzel!"


"Coming!" She called loudly as she got up out of the bed and walked
over to the window, throwing her hair down and allowing the lady to
climb up.


Hermione sighed, not wanting to deal with another day of the woman.


Lonely and nice as she was, she was boring and her stories never
changed. But, for some reason she didn't tell the lady about Severus.
Maybe it was the thought of another night of just talking to him and
not having to worry about adjusting to a new environment.


Last night meant a lot to her and she wished to herself that she
could just tell him that. She knew if she said even one thing to him
that showed even a bit of emotion he'd laugh in her face. She didn't
know what she'd say tonight when he came up to her room and there was
no witch to push him back down when he got there. But, for the time
being she was okay with that.


She wondered again how she would explain this to him when he
arrived later.


The woman climbed up her hair once again and arrived in her room.
They set down in the chairs and talked as her hair was brushed, just
like they had all the other times. Hermione was unusually bored and
wasn't acting herself, but the old witch didn't seem to take noticed
and just kept talking all the way through the afternoon. When she had
finished, she left, just as cheerily as she came.


Night finally fell and Hermione took a seat by the window to sing. It
seemed to take forever before she heard his voice coming from the
bottom of the tower and she smiled.


"Rapunzel, Rapunzel, let down your hair." He said, his voice with a
hint of mild annoyance.


She let the length of her hair fall down the side of the tower and
felt his weight tug against her scalp and he climbed up.


His shadow stood framed against the moonlight once again and her
throat felt dry when she tried to speak. In only one night, could she
have forgotten how handsome he had been? Her stomach twisted as she
tried again to speak.


He looked at her as his eyebrows sunk on his forehead with confusion,
"Care to explain how I still have my eyesight?"


She swallowed, managing to dislodge the lump from her throat, "Well,
you see, I tried to tell the witch about you, but she just wouldn't
let me get a word in edgewise. She even threatened to sew my mouth
shut a few times."


"I see." He eyed her with suspicion, "I find it hard to believe that
you let an old woman speak to you like that."


She blushed and looked down quickly to hide her face, "I didn't want
to get hexed when I had no way to defend myself." She said, quickly.


He said nothing at first, but then told her, "Well, I suppose it's
fine to wait another day. I better be going then. If you
don't mind."


He gestured to the window, clearly wanting her to let him down, but
that wasn't part of her plan.


She bit her bottom lip and stepped forward, "Well, I was hoping you
still might l like to stay a while and talk."


"Talk?" He repeated, studying her face.


"Unless you don't want to." Her voice lowered.


"It's not that..." He halted, clearing his throat, "I just didn't
think you'd want someone here when you don't seem to get many moments
of silence."


"Oh." She blinked, surprised that he even paid attention, "No, it's
actually better... I mean, I'd rather not be alone if it's all the
same."


"I see." He walked toward her, "I guess I could stay... and talk."


"Just for a little while would be nice."


She smiled up at him and he walked closer to her, causing her throat
to tighten with panic. She took a few steps back trying to force
herself to breath. She could smell him and it made her dizzy. There
were soaps and shampoos with an under currant of his potion's
ingredients. She grabbed onto the side of her bed so she couldn't fall
backwards.


His teeth gleamed white in the light of the room as he grinned at
her, "So, what did you want to talk about, Miss Granger?"


She hated when he called her that, there was no reason to keep up
civilities here, with no one they knew around and it brought the harsh
realities down on her. Perhaps he was trying to distance himself from
her since they were being forced into bizarre closeness, but it still
annoyed her.


"Anything." She told him, "I just need an intelligent conversation or
my brain will die."


"Let's not be dramatic."


"You know what I mean. Don't patronize me."


What was she doing? He hasn't, really and he was being civil. She was
frustrated with the fact that she didn't know how to talk to him and
she was taking it out on him.


"I... I wasn't patronizing you." Surprisingly, he didn't raise his
voice or lose his temper, he simply told her this face, screwed up his
mouth, and set down in the nearby chair.


He was acting strange, she thought, usually an outburst like that
would've sent him on a flurry of insults. She decided not to question
it too much and set on the edge of the bed across from him.


"So, how was your day?" She asked him.


"The same, really. Servants and snivelling peasants. You?"


"Also the same. Old lady brushing my hair and prattling on incessantly."


"It's unfair how ladies get the short end of the stick in these
stories, really."


"Well, from how you talk about it, you're getting the short end of
the stick, not me."


"I do assume that you would be better suited for a life of royalty
than I, but I'm also not enough of an ass to think that my current
role is in anyway worse than being locked in a tower listening to the
idle chatter of an old woman."


"Did I detect some semblance of a compliment hidden in there
somewhere?" She looked into his eyes.


"Perhaps." He replied with a smirk.


She blushed again and they were silent. He felt different and she
just couldn't explain it. They talked for a few hours before deciding
it was for the best if he let her get some sleep so she could wake up
on time the next morning.


So he stood and walked towards the window as she threw her hair over.


Before hoisting himself over the side he looked her deeply in the eyes
and took a breath.


"I bet you can't wait to get rid of this hair." He said, "I, for one,
like your normal hair. Although, I will miss your singing. Your voice
is quiet lovely, you know?"


He grabbed her hand and pressed his lips to the palm of her hand
before making a swift exit.


She wobbled slightly as his weight tugged on her scalp, her knees
begging to give in as she recalled the warmth of his lips on her. Once
the weight left she fell to the ground and stared at the place on her
palm.


She had no idea how much later it was when she finally stood and
wandered to her bed, but it took her no time at all to fall asleep
with a smile on her face.


She woke the next morning with enough time to take a shower before
the old woman came, calling on her. It took her no time to explain that
a handsome prince had wandered through the woods and heard her lovely
voice. Also, that he had pretended to be the woman and climbed up her
hair.


She told the woman she was scared that he might come again.


The old lady became enraged, which scared Hermione because she had
never thought that she could get angry and it was, after all, a bit
scary. Short and angry was nothing to tussle with, especially a short
and angry witch, she had seen Professor Sprout when she was mad.


The woman kept screaming about how she had tried so hard to keep her
locked away and saying "What's mine is mine." Most of the things she
was rambling about, Hermione couldn't even keep up with. So, she just
kept nodding and agreeing politely.


"I'll be back this evening to take care of this fool. Who does he
think he is?? What's mine is mine." She turned with a huff and pointed
at the window, "Let me down."


Hermione did just that and all that was left to do was wait, which
she also did and the witch did indeed return at night fall, still as
angry as ever.


After she had climbed up, she ordered Hermione over to the window and
told her to 'sing her little heart out'. Hermione sung and sung until
her throat was dry and cracking, she felt horrible because she knew
what was about to happen and it made her sad to think that Severus
would have to be wandering around, unable to see.


Finally she heard his voice below. "Rapunzel, Rapunzel, let down your
hair." and a low mumble that only she could here, "There better be a
witch up there."


She almost giggled at his joke but coughed it back, throwing her hair
down to him. He climbed up as the witch waited for him behind
Hermione's back and no sooner had his arm touched the window sill then
the witch cut the long ponytail that held him there.


He latched onto the sill with one arm, struggling to hold himself up.


"Oh no, we'll have none of that, you silly boy." The witch smiled
evilly, "You see, this woman belongs to me. Her voice belongs to me,
your ears are not worthy of hearing this angel. Goodbye."


With that, she pushed Severus down into the large brambles below.
Seconds later, Hermione could hear his cries of pain. Tears started to
fall down her face.


"Oh, I know you cared for him, dear girl. Probably more than you ever
cared for me." The witches' face was still dark, "Which is why I'm
sending you far away from here, to a town where no one will recognize
you or love you. You'll work for a bar man there, he owes me a favour
and as much anger as I have for you I couldn't let you starve. Be gone
from my sight, Rapunzel, never return to this place."


With a flash of light, Hermione was sent to the stoop of a tavern, a
note in her hand she decided to knock on the door. A large man with a
moustache answered and she handed him the letter. He took her in and
gave her food and a place to sleep, she couldn't sleep though. Her
mind drifted to Severus who was probably in pain somewhere right now
and all she wanted to do was help him.


It was two weeks later when she was hanging bar towels on the line in
the back of the store that she finally heard from him. She was singing
as loud as she could, hoping that he would find her that much easier
and he came, calling her name through the small gate and feeling his
way with a cane.


"Rapunzel?" She heard him say, "Rapunzel, is that you?"


She almost cried with joy and walked over to him, "You're going to
have to learn to use my real name some time, you know?"


"Miss Granger." He sighed with relief, "At last."


"Professor..." She moved closer, but stopped, "I think I've got to
hug you for this to work."


It was an awkward moment, but she didn't dare touch him without
his permission.


"Eh..." He started before holding his arms out to her.


She embraced him with relief, the tears she couldn't hold back
hitting his cheeks and the scene became cloudy again as she felt him
being pulled from her.


The next thing she knew, she was in a forest, beside a large pond, a
gold ball in her hand. She smiled and tossed the ball in without
another thought.


"Oh boo hoo." She called in a loud and sarcastic voice, "My favourite
ball had fallen in the pond."


From below her, on the ground a familiar voice said, "A frog? Really?
I thought there was something fishy about this when you were telling
me the story." Hermione couldn’t help grinning staring down at the
Snape frog.