A Turn for the Better

Chapter 43 ~ Preparing for the Meeting of the Masters

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Neville and Hermione stood in the Entrance Hall, Neville with a large duffel bag thrown over his shoulder. He wasn't going home. He was going to meet with Ikin Growum, a Plant master. He was going to be in the Amazon for the next four years straight, learning his art. Luna was going with him as a Quibbler junior reporter, to report on rare magical animals thought to dwell in the rain forest. No doubt they'd be very happy together.

Hermione and Neville stood looking at each other, knowing it would be a long time before they saw each other again. They were friends, and each of them were the first people outside of their immediate family to be loved by the other. There was a bond between them as strong as blood, and they were going to miss each other terribly.

"Hermione," Neville said thickly, "I hope you get everything you want out of life, everything you hope for . . . especially someone who cares about you half as much as I do. And if you ever feel down, remember that I . . . I love you and care about you, no matter where I am. You aren't alone in the world. Somebody loves you."

Hermione tried to blink back her tears as she looked up at her friend, but failed miserably as she ran into his arms, Neville's eyes wet as he embraced her tightly, sniffing her hair so he'd remember the jasmine scent she sometimes washed it with. Luna loitered some distance away to give the two friends privacy, pretending to press on the Hogwarts bricks, her blue eyes wet as well. Neville was leaving someone precious to him behind, and she felt his pain.

Neville and Hermione separated, each wiping their eyes.

"We're two big babies, aren't we Neville?" Hermione said, smiling up at him through her tears.

"Yeah," Neville agreed with a sniff. "Good thing Luna likes 'sensitive' wizards, or I'd lose her for being a wuss for sure."

Both he and Hermione laughed for a moment, then it trailed away and a heavy silence followed. Hermoine was the one to break it.

"This isn't goodbye, Neville," Hermione told him, "it's just 'See you later."

"Yeah," he said, beckoning Luna over.

Luna joined them, her eyes still wet.

"We'll see you, Hermione," she said to the Gryffindor softly.

Hermione and Luna never rose to the level of friendship to where they embraced, but the warmth in Luna's good-bye was evident.

Hermione nodded.

"You take care of him, Luna. I want him back in one piece in four years," she said to the Ravenclaw softly.

"I will, Hermione," Luna replied, looking up at Neville, whose eyes rested on his friend before shifting to Luna.

"We'd better go. I have to meet Growum in Hogsmeade by eleven," the wizard said.

"All right. Bye, Hermione," Luna said taking his arm.

"See you later," Neville said, giving Hermione a wave and a crooked smile before turning and walking out of the double doors, Luna in tow.

He didn't dare look back as he determinedly descended the stairs.

"See you later, Neville," Hermione whispered, walking to the stone staircase and standing there, watching the two walk across the grounds until she couldn't see them anymore.

Neville was gone, starting a new adventure and a new life. . . without her.

Just the way nature intended.

Hermione sighed and re-entered the castle. She had to get her own things and depart as well. She could have gone with Neville and Luna, but wanted to say her good-byes at the castle.

When she returned with what she hadn't sent by post, left them by the door and walked down into the dungeons to say goodbye to the Professor, but he didn't answer the door. Perhaps he was escorting some students to the Hogwarts Express. He was a member of staff after all.

Hermione left, hoping to see him down at the station.

She didn't, because Snape was sitting in his office and had heard her knocking.

He just . . . didn't answer.

After last night, he couldn't safely do another "good-bye."

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The days dragged by as if weighted down by stones as Hermione waited to return to Hogwarts to start the next leg of her education.

And hopefully, something more with the wizard waiting there

She had packed up her belongings at home, all her books and clothing. It felt strange to do this. There was always some packing when she prepared to go to Hogwarts at the end of each summer, but nothing to this extent. It was as if she were clearing out. Some of her items she sent to the thrift shops, other's she packed away for storage so her bedroom was entirely empty. It was an odd feeling to be all grown up and starting out her adult life.

Jean Granger gave her bed linens as a house warming present, in her house colors of course, and her dad gave her a little charm bracelet.

"Dad, I'm not going to be able to wear this often. It will react with a number of potions ingredients," she told him when he asked her not to take it off.

"Well, keep it someplace you can see it," he responded, hugging her. "Maybe on your bedpost."

"John," Jean scolded him, "that's the last place a young woman wants something from her father dangling! It's . . . disturbing."

John shrugged.

"It was just a suggestion," he replied, looking taciturn.

Hermione didn't believe him for a second. It was meant to be a deterrent. She shook her head. John Granger may have on the surface accepted what might be in store for his daughter and the man she loved, but he wasn't going down without a fight. At least, a small one.

On the seventh day, Hermione was awakened early by a shriek, several squeals, a deep yell and a lot of noise downstairs as if there was a fight going on. Grabbing her wand, she raced down the stairs to find her mother and father beating up several house elves. Jean had a broom, and John had a huge toothbrush used for display purposes. They were batting the poor squealing creatures all around the living room.

"Mum! Dad! Stop it!" Hermione cried running down the stairs.

"Our house has been possessed, kitten! We'll hold them off, and you run and get Father O'Grady from the church down the street!" John yelled at her, batting a squealing elf against the wall. It slid down and disappeared behind the sofa.

"No! They aren't demons! They're house elves from Hogwarts! They've probably come to help move my things! Stop beating them!" Hermione cried.

Surprised and panting, the Grangers stopped their assault. Four aching house elves walked forward, and bowed to Hermione shakily.

"We comes for your things, Miss," one battered elf said to Hermione, not looking at the Grangers, who stared at the creatures in amazement.

"Right upstairs in the bedroom on the right. You'll find everything boxed up," she told the elves, then added, "I'm sorry about this."

The house elves all headed up the stairs, ears flattened as they took furtive, over-the-shoulder glances at the Grangers, then disappeared into Hermione's room.

Hermione narrowed her eyes at her sheepish parents, both of whom were still holding their weapons defensively.

"Well, don't blame us! We didn't know what they were! They just . . . appeared while we were having breakfast," John said in their defense. "One squeaked something at Jean, and she grabbed the broom, chased them in here and I joined in. We have to protect our home, don't we?"

Hermione looked at her mother, whose hair was standing up all over her head, the sash to her robe had come open and was dragging on the floor, and she'd lost one fuzzy pink slipper during the fray. She blinked at her, then collapsed into laughter.

Her parents stood there a moment, then joined her.

The only ones who didn't think this a damn bit funny, were the house elves, who sullenly removed Hermione's things as quickly as possible so they could get back to nice, safe Hogwarts.

"Muggles is dangerous," one house elf said to the others as they winked out.

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Hermione arrived at Hogwarts and let herself in, walking quickly across the grounds, her heart all aflutter at seeing Severus again. Maybe . . . maybe he'd give her a hello kiss.

She quickly entered Hogwarts and immediately felt subdued by the size and the silence of it. It felt cavernous without students to fill its halls. Her footsteps echoed as she walked through the Entrance Hall, past the marble staircase and down the narrow stairs that led to the dungeons. Torches spluttered and shadows flicker on the wall, making the area spookier than usual. Hermione hoped the Bloody Baron wouldn't put in a surprise appearance. He didn't . . . but someone else a thousand times more annoying did.

"Wandering 'round the dungeons, little witchy witch, sneaking about when the teachers is out! Naughty, naughty," Peeves, the resident poltergeist sang out, swooping down the corridor. He looked like a little man dressed in loud, outlandish clothes, with a bell covered hat and a spinning orange bowtie.

Peeves only purpose in his half-life was to wreak havoc by any means necessary. He wasn't a ghost, but a product of all the little naughty inclinations of the Hogwarts student body for centuries. Without him about to absorb their destructive energy and channel it, the students wouldn't be as well behaved as they were.

Hermione wasn't going to wait for Peeves to do anything. She whipped out her wand and pointed it at the poltergeist, her brown eyes hard.

"Peeves, you leave here right now, or I'm going to blast you into ectoplasm! You know how long it takes for you to reform," she threatened.

"Vicious little witchy-witch!" Peeves replied sullenly, his eyes on her wand tip. "Has no sense of humor."

He flew past her and down the hall without a look back.

Hermione looked after him, but kept her wand out.

He might return.

Hermione headed down the corridor quickly, stopped in front of the Potions office, and took a moment to compose herself. She was going to see the Potions master for the first time after the ball, and that sweet, sweet kiss. She knocked, and the door swung open a little. She pushed it open a little more.

"Severus?" she called, entering the dimly lit office.

"In here," the Potions Master's voice rang out. Hermione looked and saw that the wall on the far right was raised. Slowly she walked toward it, and peered in to see Snape standing in his study, putting items in a black satchel. A large, wrapped bundle was on the floor. She entered.

"I'm here," she announced. Snape looked up at her rather sternly.

"Good, now come over here," he ordered.

Hermione walked over to the sofa, and the wizard straightened, his eyes sweeping over her robes. There was no affection in his eyes, just focus.

"I need you to strip down to your bra and knickers," the wizard said.

Hermione looked around the room for the partition.

There was none.

"Where?" she asked him.

"Here, of course. Now, do it. We don't have a lot of time," he snarked at her.

"You want me to undress here?" she squeaked.

"Yes. Down to your bra and knickers. Take off your trainers and socks as well. Hurry," he told her, returning to his satchel.

Hermione slowly began to unbutton her robes, a bit self-consciously. This might have been a rather delicious act, except that the Potions master was all business and his order didn't seem to have anything to do with attraction or desire. Hermione thought her first time undressing in his rooms would be . . . romantic. But this?

Snape walked over to his books and withdrew two of them, returning and putting them into his satchel, then straightened and looked at Hermione as she pulled her t-shirt over her head, her bra-encased breasts falling into view.

He turned away quickly, fiddling with his bag again. When he next turned around, Hermione was standing before him, barefoot, only in her bra and knickers. Snape's dark eyes washed over her, and this time, there was heat in them, but only for an instant as he drew his wand.

"Stay very still," he said, muttering an incantation and slowly passing the wand over her limbs and contours, holding it very close as he slowly moved it over her curves without touching her. Still, it was a very intimate act, the wizard standing close to her, his eyes resting on her body. Hermione felt as if her skin was being covered with a light coat of paint as he continued, telling her to spread her fingers and turn up her palms, then making her lift her feet, kneeling and passing his wand under them. Finally, he seemed satisfied. He picked up her basilisk robes. A hood had been added to them.

"Put these on," he said gently.

"What? With no clothes beneath?" Hermione asked him.

"You will no longer wear clothing beneath your robes as my apprentice, only your underthings. Clothes can be restrictive in an emergency and there may come a time you need almost instant access to special access points on your body in order to save your own life. No apprentice or Potions master ever wears clothing beneath their robes," he told her. "And for the day, you will address me as 'Master Snape.' Am I understood?"

Hermione nodded slowly as she took the robes from him and slipped them on. He then handed her a very light, very ordinary-looking robe.

"Put that on over those," he said to the witch.

Once again, Hermione obliged him.

"Very good. Now, you are to draw up your hood, and you will keep it drawn until such time as I tell you to lower it. You are not to speak to anyone, even if they address you directly. Now put on your socks and trainers. We have to go and get settled in.

Hermione put on her socks and trainers as Snape checked his bag again.

"What did you do to me?" she asked him.

"Protected you. Potions masters can be very jealous of another's apprentice choice, and seek to . . . remove him before he can start his apprenticeship. It doesn't happen often, but has been known to. Try not to come in physical contact with them. If someone offers his hand, just nod politely, don't shake it. Try not to let your flesh come in contact with anyone else's. I've protected you but new poisons and piercing objects are created every day, so we're never sure what we're up against."

Hermione paled. This gathering sounded very dangerous. She hadn't thought it could be dangerous. They were all professionals. But by what Severus told her, this wasn't going to be a pleasure trip. Snape continued, his eyes somber as he looked at the witch.

"You will not eat or drink anything not specifically given to you by me, and if I do attempt to give you something, ask me something only I would know, to be sure it's me," he told her. "Take nothing at face value. Potions masters are not the noble lot many believe. They are petty and jealous of each other and wouldn't hesitate to poison you to get at me. So be aware. I want you to return with me at the end of the night. I'd hate to have to tell your father you didn't survive the meeting."

Hermione stared at the wizard, realizing he was very concerned about her.

"Is it always like this at the meeting of the Master's?" she asked him.

Snape fell silent, then said, "No. Not always. I'm just taking special precautions with you, Hermione. After your presentation, there will be a mingling session, and I am to let you wander about freely to show my faith in your abilities and so you can show your independence. I can't always be with you, but I will be watching you, believe me. The mingling only lasts about an hour. Then we'll be able to leave that place."

Hermione studied him.

"But why special precautions, Severus? What's so special about me?"

"Several things. Your courage. Your intelligence. Your academic accomplishments. Your sex," he said softly.

"My . . . sex? What's my sex got to do with anything. There are Potions mistresses," she said to him, not understanding.

Snape nodded.

"Yes, there are, but I am breaking tradition by taking on a female apprentice. In our field, traditionally males are trained by males and females by females. Most likely there will be an outcry, but I've checked and rechecked and there is no law among us that states a male master cannot take on a female apprentice. So, there are going to be a few angry Potions masters, I'm sure. They aren't going to want you to leave," he said softly.

Dear gods, was she going to be a target?

"I'd understand if you wanted to reconsider becoming my apprentice, Hermione. I am asking you to face great danger," he told the witch. "But there's a price for anything worth having. I never had to go through this, because I was self-taught and my skills tested. You don't have that luxury. I would spare you this if I could, but . . . it is tradition."

Hermione stared up at him, wondering what he would do if she did die.

"Severus, what if I don't survive? What if one of them gets to me," she asked him quietly.

Snape's eyes hardened.

"Then no one will leave that place alive, Hermione. Not myself, not a single Potions master. You will be avenged and without discretion," he breathed. "You are my life now, Hermione Granger. Without you, there is no need for me to draw another breath."

Hermione blinked up at him. That was the most beautiful thing she'd ever heard in her life.

"Oh, Severus," she said softly, moving toward the wizard, who quickly thrust out his hands to halt her advance.

"We cannot kiss, Hermione," he told her gently. "Not here, not now. We have things to do."

"One kiss wouldn't hurt anything," she responded, "you didn't even kiss me hello."

Snape sighed.

"There's no Neville Longbottom here to break us apart, this time, Hermione. Based on my reaction to our last kiss, I don't believe it wise to engage in another, especially with us alone as we are. You try me, witch. Every time I'm in your presence alone. You test my determination, my strength, my reserve. Every part of me strains toward you as if you were a living magnet when we are in close proximity now. There is nothing left to keep us apart but our control. My control . . . since I know you would willingly walk into my arms and . . . into my bed right now if I gave in to my feelings."

"Yes, I would," Hermione said softly, "I so want to be with you again, Severus."

Snape closed his eyes and let out a long sigh before opening them. He looked at Hermione, his face contorted.

"The things you say, Hermione Granger. I've known practiced courtesans with practiced words meant to inspire and arouse a wizard to action, but not one of them spoke with your simple eloquence and honesty, or invoked my ardor and desire with so few words. Please, stop telling me this. Stop saying how much you want me, or you will break me. I don't want to be broken, witch. I need to retain my illusion of strength for just a bit longer. You threaten to bring me to my knees."

His voice sounded as if he'd swallowed down gravel, and Hermione could see an almost desperate plea in his eyes. She was torturing him, and she never even realized it.

"I won't say anything else about it . . . until after the meeting," Hermione told him.

"Tomorrow would be better," Snape said softly, relieved she was going to turn down the heat. More than likely, she never even realized how high she'd turned it up. Despite her loss of virginity, Hermione really was an innocent.

"No. After the meeting. When we return here," she stated firmly. She was willing to make some concessions, but not give up everything she wanted.

"Very well," Snape said, handing her the satchel, then picking up the large, wrapped object. "Let us go, apprentice. There are wizards to meet, and meetings to survive."

Snape exited the study, Hermione following, her heart still aflutter from his words. Such passionate, beautiful words.

Severus must love her. How could he speak to her the way he did, if he didn't?

Well, she planned to find out if he did tonight.

If she survived the meeting, that is.

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A/N: Lol. I love having Hermione's mum attacking house elves. I've only done it once before, in "A Matter of Circumstances" when Jean, who was Jane in that fic, thought Eli was going to eat the baby. Lol. This time I had John join in. I hope I struck a little height on the romanto-meter with this chappie. I tried to think of the sweetest things Snape could say to her. At least what I'd like to hear if I was a young, overeager little witch pining for him. Sigh. Anyway, thanks for reading.