Interesting

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Hermione lay on Snape’s couch under the enchanted warming blanket. They hadn’t thought to bring her pajamas from her trunk, so she was wearing his shirt again. Now that the bustle of her extremely busy first week was over, all she could think about was Ron. She sniffled and wiped her eyes as she thought of how he’d nearly struck her. He’d probably panicked and wouldn’t normally do something like that, but it didn’t make her heart hurt any less. She’d been such a little fool.

Harry hadn’t responded to the owl she’d sent him and Ginny was giving her the cold shoulder. Whatever Ron had told them about their breakup had obviously been very much in his favour. Hermione sniffled again and rolled over. Snape was standing in the bedroom doorway, looking at her and she sat up in surprise.

“I could hear you crying through the door,” he said as he crossed the room to go to the secret door that led to his private potions room. “I’ll get you a dreamless draught.”

He was wearing the matching pajama pants but no shirt and she watched his lean muscles move under his scarred skin. The man had suffered greatly and gotten no thanks for it. Hermione sniffled again… she was grateful for everything he’d done in the war… she would probably have been killed if it wasn’t for his bravery. Snape sat down on the coffee table in front of the couch and passed her the vial.

“I don’t want it,” she whispered.

“You need to rest, Hermione,” he said, “and your broken heart won’t let you.” He rubbed at his tired eyes and uncorked the bottle. Hermione noted that he hadn’t called her Miss Granger for once, but assumed that it was because he was exhausted… they’d been working hard to prepare the store for their grand opening on January second.

“I’m just lonely,” she said. “It’s Christmas eve, I’m so lonely… and it hurts so much…”

Snape sighed and corked the bottle. “I know,” he said. “Why do you think I keep inviting you to stay here, even though your apartment is now quite livable?”

Hermione hung her head. “I guess I’m pretty pathetic, huh?”

Snape cocked his head to one side and gave her a tired smile. “I don’t mind,” he said. “I know it’s hard being young and alone. I wouldn’t wish it on anyone.” They looked at each other for a long moment and then Snape took her hand and pressed a kiss to her palm. “Goodnight, Miss Granger,” he said. He stood and went back to his bedroom, leaving Hermione holding the bottle of dreamless draught. She uncorked it and swallowed it down.

*****

The bell over the door rang and Hermione left Dobby alone in the lab to go and help the customer in the shop. The warm May sun shone in through the front windows, lighting the store up invitingly.

“Good-morning!” Hermione said in her most cheerful voice. Her black heels clicked on the old wooden floor as she approached the customer. Severus had told her not to wear any sneakers or jeans in the shop because he said that people wanted to buy potions from someone who looked like a witch, not a muggle. For Hermione, that had meant purchasing an entirely new wardrobe. She’d bought two pencil skirts, some wide belts, and a number of snug-fitting sweaters… she’d since discovered that the tighter the sweater was, the better her sales were.

Her potions master seemed to pay more attention to her when she wore a tight sweater, too…
Today though, she wore a simple green dress with a wide brown belt that she’d been eyeing at the dress shop for weeks. The moment it had come on sale, she’d pounced on it. It hugged her curves just right, but also looked rather prim.

“How may I help you today, sir?” she asked the nervous-looking, middle-aged wizard.

“Um…” he said. “Is the potion master within?”

“No, I’m sorry to say that he’s not,” Hermione said, sweetly. “I’m his apprentice though, if I may be of service to you.”

The wizard shuffled his feet for a moment, then shook his head. “Uh, no… I’ll uh… come back another time. He turned to go to the door, but Hermione caught his elbow, gently. She’d seen enough men like him in the last few months to know exactly what was going on.

“I think I have just the thing you’re looking for, actually,” she said, as she guided him to a nearby shelf. “I can tell by your posture exactly what’s wrong… my father had the same problem.”

“The s-same p-problem?” the man stammered. He went red in the face.

Hermione pulled a bottle from the shelf and handed it to him. “Yes,” she said, absently. “He had a very stiff back. It troubled him greatly… especially at night,” she added, innocently.

The man’s eyes scanned over the label:

RED AMORTIS
Cures erectile dysfunction, premature ejaculation, varicose veins, and stiff lower backs.

“Uh yes!” the man smiled. “This looks like just the thing. My uh… back keeps me up at night. Drives the wife mad when I can’t… um… sleep.”

Hermione gave him a syrupy giggle and rang his purchase in at the till. Snape was a marketing genius.

*****

“Get him, Dobby!” Hermione shouted. The little elf chased after the weresquirrel as the little bastard ran along the moonlit forest floor. Hermione fired stun after stun from her wand, leaving smoking craters in the ground, but she couldn’t get square hit on the speedy creature. This was the fifth time that summer that she and Dobby had been in the Forbidden Forest to catch one of these elusive creatures and they had it down to a fine science… in order to catch an energetic weresquirrel, they had to tire it out and then trap it under a bucket.

First, they’d find its nest, which wasn’t hard to do, once you knew to look for the piles of badger bones. Then Dobby would cut down the tree that held the nest, forcing the deranged creature out into the open. Hermione would chase it first, until her chest was heaving, then Dobby would go after it. They each took turns trying to stun the damn thing while the other was chasing. All in all, it made for an exhausting night, but the weresquirrel venom made an excellent laxative potion.

The were squirrel was starting to look tired, but so was Dobby. “Change it up!” Hermione shouted as she took off after the nasty creature. Dobby sat on the fallen tree trunk and panted while Hermione kept the weresquirrel going around in circles. The little shit ran passed the log and Dobby stuck his foot out to trip it. The squirrel went flying and Dobby slammed the over-turned bucket down on top of it. He sat on the bucket, still panting, and Hermione collapsed in a pile of pine needles, completely exhausted.

The squirrel screamed and kicked at the inside of the bucket but couldn’t escape. Dobby leaned down and pounded his little fist against the contained. “You shuts up!” he squeaked. He looked at Hermione. “Dobby hates weresquirrels,” he panted.

Hermione chuckled as her heart pounded. “Hermione hates weresquirrels, too,” she agreed.

*****

Snape looked up from the stack of papers he was grading as a small barn owl flew in the window and landed on his desk. Some of his students looked up and he barked, “Get back to work!” at them before he untied the note from the bird’s leg. The letter was almost certainly from Hermione - she often sent him little notes to ask a quick question about her potions assignments. He frowned as he saw that the handwriting was a little sloppy… it reminded him of work that tired students handed in when they’d stayed up too late the night before.

"Dear Master Snape,

How much pepper-up potion is it safe to consume? Can I brew a stronger batch by doubling the morning glory or will that just poison me?

Hermione"

Snape pulled out a fresh piece of parchment and scribbled a reply.

"Dear Hermione,

Do not add more morning glory or you’ll be in St. Mungo’s getting your stomach pumped."

It suddenly dawned on him that the sloppy handwriting wasn’t from fatigue, but from too much pepper-up potion. He snorted inwardly… his apprentice was wired. He sighed and hoped that she wasn’t developing a dependency… he’d been working her harder than usual lately and she couldn’t possibly be getting enough sleep.

"How much of that stuff have you had lately? I forbid you to have any more. I’ll be along this afternoon to check on you.

Severus"

He didn’t usually sign his notes to her with his first name, but he supposed it wouldn’t do any harm, especially when they saw so much of each other. He spend every weekend in the shop with her, and usually stopped in twice during the week. Sometimes they even collected ingredients together at night. Severus tied the note to the bird’s leg and it flew back out the window.

“Five points from Hufflepuff!” Snape barked as he noticed that one of his students was day-dreaming.