Secrets

Snape and Hermione had worked all afternoon after he had given her a verbal lashing about having respect for one's teachers. He suspected it hadn't sunk in, however, as she kept shaking her head and smiling to herself every so often. After working in a cramped room for a few hours, all of his ingredients had been recorded and were now sitting on the floor outside, divided by class.

Hermione looked around the small square room and shook her head. "This will never do," she muttered, and waved her wand around, saying an incantation Snape couldn't quite make out, but he thought he caught the word "quintus." With a final flick, the room suddenly changed from the cramped square to a more spacious pentagon. "There," she said, beaming. "Now you have one wall for each individual class. Of course, it would probably be best to keep Class 5 on the wall with the door, as that is the smallest class. Perhaps...above the door. Don't want easy access to them. Or the door to hit them." She was simply talking to herself now, almost forgetting this was Snape's room and he was there with her. Hermione was one to get involved in her work.
"Oh, wait," she said suddenly. With a few more swishes of her wand, 26 shelves labeled with a single letter appeared along each of the four empty walls. A few small shelves had appeared above the door. "Not bad for foolish wand waving, huh?" she said, genuinely smiling at him.

"You seem much happier today," he said in an effort to avoid thanking her for the obvious improvement. Her face fell and her eyes seemed to reflect her remembrance of a heavy burden she had forgotten she carried.
"No, I just get wrapped up in my work." She bent down to the Class 1 pile of ingredients and began placing them on the proper shelves. He sighed inwardly. For once, he hadn't been trying to hurt her feelings, but had managed it anyways. Finally, after quite an internal struggle, he spat out, "Thank you...for fixing the room." Her eyes seemed to warm as she turned towards him. "Of course, it wasn't as if I asked you to do anything. Are you always this...bold?"

Hermione knew better than to answer, taking her thanks where she could get it. Sensing how smug she seemed to be, asked her, "Tell me Miss Granger, do you *bathe* in vanilla, or is it merely a cover-up in lieu of bathing? I thought all girls your age smelled like a sickening bouquet or something revoltingly sweet. Remind me not to be in such close quarters with you again," he said, looking serious.
"At least I don't reek of incense. Tell me, professor, do you burn it to disguise your own stench?"
"No, yours," he said with a sneer.
"Professor...was that a joke?"
"I have a spectacular range of emotions, Miss Granger, not that you would ever elicit any from me."
Hermione turned back to reshelving his potions stores. Despite what he said, she had elicited an emotion from him. Professor Snape had just tried to joke with her. Granted, it wasn't a very good joke, and it was at her expense, but she would have never thought it of him.

After a while longer of reshelving his ingredients, Hermione broke the silence that they both noticed wasn't altogether uncomfortable.
"I don't like the smell of flowers." Snape cocked an eyebrow and said snidely, "Thank you for the information." Hermione rolled her eyes and said, "You said you thought all girls smelled either of flowers or really sweet. Well, I hate either of those smells. Vanilla suits me much better."
"If I am not mistaken, vanilla comes from a flower, Miss Granger."
"Well, I know that, but it's a much more distinct smell. Like you said, it doesn't scream "girly bouquet." And for your information, I only put on two drops of oil. It goes a long way."
"Obviously," he retorted back. Snape realized he was slightly enjoying their banter.

Snape conjured a ladder quickly and stooped down to retrieve the last of the Class 5 ingredients. He actually had a bit of a smirk on his face, which was quite similar to his sneer, but was as close to a smile as he got. There was suddenly a loud "BOOM!" behind him, and he turned, quick as ever, to see Hermione fall off the small ladder and land flat on her bum. She screamed in pain, clutching her burned hand. After a quick glance upwards, he almost shouted, "You idiot girl! You know Sunset Lilly roots kept in close proximity to any other ingredient will cause them to ignite!" He was breathing heavily, yet climbed the ladder quickly to move the Sunset Lilly to an isolated part of the shelf.
"What are you talking about?!" she screamed at him, still clutching her arm, yet taking care to hold it away from her clothes, "Sunset Lilly simply increases the temperature of a potion, it won't set it on fire!"
"That's powdered root, you fool. That jar contained the whole root."
Hermione was quite shocked he'd keep such a dangerous plant like Sunset Lilly with all his other ingredients.
"It wasn't labeled that way," she said through gritted teeth. Her hand was still burning. "It simply said 'Root of Sunset Lilly.' How was I to know it wasn't powdered like it's *supposed* to be, as directed by the Ministry for proper storage, in order to prevent such a thing as this from happening?!" She was out of breath, trying to focus on something other than the sharp ache in her hand and her outrage at Professor Snape for doing something so stupid.
"You know damn well it is much more potent if not powdered until needed," he hissed at her as his eyes narrowed.

Both Hermione and Snape felt irresponsible and at fault, and were lashing out at each other. Hermione knew she should have known better than to assume anything, especially in her line of work, and Snape knew he should have labeled the bottle with more accuracy.

Hermione still held her burnt hand in the other, wincing and crying out from the pain. "Let me see your hand," he said harshly, kneeling beside her. It sounded more like an accusation, like he was scolding a guilty child. She winced again but made no movement toward him.
"Oh, honestly," he said, exasperated. Snape took her arm firmly in his grasp, yet he was careful not to hurt her any further. He went to touch it and she shrieked while trying to pull away.
"Sit still," he commanded in the deepest voice he could muster, and simply out of habit, Hermione obeyed. "There's a shard of glass embedded deep in the skin. Hold still." He withdrew his wand and muttered a spell softly. The glass tinkled to the floor, tinged in red.
"You should go to Madame Pomfrey's. I'll clean up and be sure to bottle my ingredients in layman's terms from now on." He turned from her and started waving his wand, vanishing the broken glass. Hermione's hand still burned, but she barely noticed. She thought to herself, "He knows he should have labeled it differently. Arrogant bastard." She mentally called him names all the way to the infirmary, and Snape heard every one. Everyone seemed to forget what an excellent legillimens he was.
"I can't believe he can try and rationalize *his* mistake...especially one that could have seriously harmed me- or him, the bastard. It's so- despicable." This was the last thought he heard before he withdrew from her mind. And it was this thought that stung him the most.


"My, my. Sunset Lilly burn," Madame Pomfrey said while hovering over Hermione's outstretched hand. "Well, I can't apply anything to it- it will only increase the burn. Sunset Lilly is a tricky plant. It will burn almost anything it comes into contact with, but only the initial contact causes it."
"So, what you're saying is that it won't burn my hand completely off, right?" Hermione said sarcastically. She knew she was being slightly rude, but she was still so pissed off at Snape she didn't care.
"Well, yes, Miss Granger, if one would put it so crudely," she said, pursing her lips. "Yes, I suspect you'll just have to wait it out. I'd suggest a strong sleeping draught for tonight, and no activity until it heals. The only thing Sunset Lilly won't react to is the earth in which it was grown or an enchanted glass phial that is used to store it." Madame Pomfrey sighed and went to get the sleeping potion.

Hermione walked slowly back to the dungeons to her room. She sat down in a squishy chair, making sure her arm was extended fully and took the sleeping potion. All things considered, she fell asleep quickly.

While she slept, Snape paced his bedroom floor. The floor was quite used to this, and the carpet had been worn thin. He finally made a decision and threw on some robes. He moved silently to the kitchens, as Hufflepuff was located (quite conveniently for them) very near there. Snape knocked on Professor Sprout's door urgently. The door opened slowly, and Professor Sprout said, bleary eyed, "Yes, Severus, what is it?" She wrapped her house coat around her plump figure.
"Sorry to disturb you at this hour, Pomona, but I need access to Greenhouse Number Ten." To sleepy to ask why and sensing the urgency in his voice, she gave him the password "tentacula" and without another word, he strode off toward the greenhouse.