2,067A/N: Summer is finally here, and perhaps some time to write? As always, I look forward to your thoughts.
Chapter 33: Relationship Concerns
"You should know I've given Laria permission to respond if the need arises."
Severus hesitated before taking his usual chair in Lucius's study. "Respond to what?"
Brandy decanter in hand, Lucius gaped at him. "You didn't read it?"
"Why would I?" he rested his head against the chair.
The pureblood shook his head and poured his drink. "Your personal history out for public consumption, and you haven't… Good gods, man. Are you suicidal?"
Severus rolled his eyes. "Between you and Dumbledore, I doubt any threats will go undetected."
"You are the one who does others' work for them," Lucius took his seat. "You do not trust others to do yours for you."
"I have no interest in reading the backstory to my fictional character."
Malfoy eyed him quietly while sipping his brandy. "It was surprisingly tasteful… relatively few embellishments…"
Severus incredulously glared at him.
"… save, of course, for the implications that anyone actually liked, respected, or befriended your miserable hide." He smirked at the rude hand gesture he received. "And I presume your relationship with my cousin was exaggerated…"
"Indubitably."
"I will not have people thinking I allowed anyone to trifle with her."
"For gods' sake, there was no trifling. She was a child when I worked for your uncle and then became my student." Catching Lucius's pointed look, he sat up straighter. "Oh, shit sake!"
Lucius smugly settled back in his chair. "While we're on the subject of trifling with your students –"
"Fuck off."
" – how was your first birthday as a married man?"
Severus expelled a long breath and looked to the fireplace. His wife's explicit instructions, having haunted his dreams for two nights, rang in his ears. The segue, however, made his gut churn faster. Granger was still a student; she should not have been made to parade about in her knickers for anyone, and he should never have gotten hard at the thought of –
"That terrible, hmm?"
Realizing his disgust must have been apparent, he cleared his throat, "No, it was… far from terrible. I think I may have even forgotten my own bloody name for a moment."
"Oh?" Lucius leered over his glass. "Do tell."
Snape grimaced. "I hardly think –"
"Don't you dare. I have gifted you hours of living vicariously through my escapades, and you have yet to bloody reciprocate, you selfish prude. Now, set the fucking scene," Lucius snickered at his own double entendre. "How did the little witch make the day special?"
Severus sighed and brushed off his robes. "She had the elves prepare a cake."
"And…what did she do with said cake?"
"She served it to me."
"Served it how?"
Severus cocked his head. "With a smile."
"Only the smile?" Lucius asked hopefully. When his friend ignored the question, he frowned. "Where was the bloody cake, man?"
"On a plate. In the Great Hall."
"I will Crucio you until you soil yourself."
Severus snorted. "Fine. I was in my office, avoiding another session of the ignoramus book club my colleagues made of that ridiculous article. The chit came flouncing in all tarted up, determined to raise my spirits."
"Your spirits, hmm?"
"Suffice it to say, her oral arguments were remarkably persuasive."
Lucius chuckled wickedly over his brandy. "I knew that mouth of hers had to be good for something."
Gripping the arms of his chair, Severus released a slow breath. When pressed for further detail, he refused to elaborate. "Unless you wish me to share any of those vicariously lived through experiences with your wife, you get nothing further."
"Narcissa is aware of my extracurriculars."
He quirked an eyebrow. "All of them? Even –"
"If you want your spirits to remain capable of being raised, you will never speak of that again." Lucius tossed back his drink before moving to the sideboard to refill his glass. He carefully studied his friend for a moment. "Take care, man."
Severus looked up at him in question.
"Think with your brain, not your cock."
"Rich coming from you."
"Everything that comes from me is rich," the aristocrat reclaimed his seat. "However, the Dark Lord will not be pleased if he thinks you too attached."
Nodding slowly, the younger man resumed staring at the crackling fire.
With a sigh, Lucius raised his glass. "It's been a pleasure knowing you, my friend."
Both men looked up as the door opened to admit a smiling Narcissa. They stood as she approached, and Lucius leaned closer to murmur, "You're welcome to stay and observe if you need pointers. Otherwise, you may want to fuck off."
"Severus, darling!" Narcissa kissed his cheek. "And here I thought this year you might stay in with your wife. You look tolerably well, though. Has Hermione been taking care of you?"
"Mmm, it seems the girl has finally figured out how to take care of him," Lucius extended his glass to her. "No doubt thanks to your efforts, darling."
The witch waved off his offer of a sip. "She just needed a bit of instruction, really."
Lucius quirked his brow at her, then slowly shifted his gaze to his friend. "Funny you didn't put that together, Professor."
As Severus rolled his eyes, Narcissa sympathetically patted his arm. "If Hermione needs any further –"
"I cannot afford any more of your assistance," he sneered.
"I assured Hermione you'd see the value in the investment," she grinned. "Now, why don't you go home and enjoy more of those dividends, hmm?"
After bidding them good evening, Severus moved to the door. Hearing the glass tumbler thump against the carpet, he glanced back to see Lucius had pulled his wife into a passionate embrace. With a soft sigh, the spy exited and prepared himself to face Dumbledore's lecture.
xxxXxxx
Of Snape's prior romances, we have relatively little to report. In contrast to his young wife, Snape is a markedly private man and has mostly kept his entanglements out of the public eye.
Reclining on the sofa with her pillow, Hermione scowled at the magazine. She had given up on the article yesterday after reading that line but was determined to press on now.
Snape was once linked to Laria Malfoy, daughter of Aethon Malfoy, his former employer. Whether their association ever extended deeper than a social connection, we cannot say. Reportedly, Snape escorted the young Miss Malfoy (now 30) to several society events, and the pair were frequently spotted together in public during the summer months.
She studied the small picture from the 1986 New Year's Gala, in which Snape and his date were partially obscured by an ice sculpture. Though not the intended targets of the photo, she could see the blonde lean against him to whisper something, which prompted him to smirk. When the witch quirked her head, Snape took her arm and led her out of frame.
So, is she the one he brought to Edda's bookshop? Or was it someone else?
Watching the scene repeat several times, Hermione could not explain the knot in her stomach. Snape was not her actual lover, so there was no need for jealousy, and at the time the photo was taken, her seven-year-old self would have been tucked into bed with her teddy bear. "On that disturbing note…"
Why their relationship never became official, we may never know. Perhaps, despite close association with the Malfoy family, there was reasonable objection to entwining the lines. Or perhaps Snape unknowingly sensed his truest love was still out there, waiting for him to find her.
"To what? Read me a bedtime story?" Hermione scoffed before picturing Snape sitting against her headboard, in his shirt sleeves, reading aloud. Blushing, she sat up and wiped her face.
Whether his heart remained attached to a first love or was simply shielding itself in anticipation of the ultimate one, Snape has never been publicly linked to another witch.
"Or maybe they recognized what an obnoxious prick he is," she sputtered. An obnoxious prick who went out of his way to protect your family and came back to rescue you from Sirius.
While many young wizards spend decades sowing their wild oats and engaging in folly, we found no evidence Snape was amongst their ranks. The acceleration with which he developed his impressive curriculum vitae suggests similarly. After such a serious and solitary existence, Severus Snape has secured someone with whom he can share his successes. We can only speculate how high this accomplished wizard will soar with True Love surging beneath his wings.
Hermione snorted loudly. Though her feelings toward her husband were conflicted, she was certain watching him read his own biography would prove amusing.
xxxXxxx
Head throbbing, Severus slunk down the spiral staircase.
The Headmaster was understandably displeased that his meeting with Lucius had been cut short and discussion solely focused on his personal life. Both the conversation and Which Wizard feature were obviously consequences of the spy's failure to appropriately prioritize. After all, he had considered his wife's 'minor discomfort' over the Order's well-being.
What was not his fault (but still his problem nonetheless) was the Malfoys' renewed intimacy. Though Severus was relieved by it, Dumbledore was not. If Lucius was at home drinking and inseminating his wife, he was not out drinking and whoring around with Ministry secretaries and interns eager to divulge their witnessed interactions and overheard comments. Ultimately, this meant one of the Order's reliable streams of intelligence had dried up.
It did not take a Seer to predict what resolution the Headmaster had in mind, but Severus would play thick until explicitly ordered to act. While he did manipulate Lucius when necessary and often squealed on him to Dumbledore, it was another level of betrayal to deliberately sabotage his marriage. Besides, he'll probably cock it up again on his own soon enough.
Hoping to avoid people, Severus took the more treacherous backstairs down to the dungeons. Since it was farther to his office, he burst through the door to his sitting room, prompting his wife to jump over the back of the sofa. With a grunt, he closed the door and raised an eyebrow at her extended wand.
Blushing, Hermione lowered her wand. "You said you'd be back late. It's not even nine."
"Disappointed?"
"No, just surprised. You're the one always harping on me about not letting anyone in."
"Did you let anyone in?" At her scowl, the wizard sighed and moved toward his office. "Besides you and I, only the Headmaster and his Deputy can enter these quarters unaided, and they would still knock to be let in… Well, Minerva would still knock."
Recalling how frequently the witch barged into his office unannounced, Severus meant to qualify his statement further when he noticed the magazine in his wife's hand. "Why in the gods' names do you have that?"
Hermione guiltily glanced down at the magazine. "To read it?"
"Whatever for?" he enunciated slowly.
"Well, you told me not to read that book, so –"
"Burn it," Snape pointed to the fireplace.
"No!" she clutched the magazine to her chest. When he stepped forward, she hid it behind her back. "And if someone asks me about it? Shouldn't I, as your doting, media-obsessed wife, have absorbed every detail of your biography?"
He glared at her for several long seconds, "Fine. When you've completed your little, falsity-finding mission –"
"I will dispose of it accordingly," she smirked. "Oh, speaking of falsities…"
Pausing in his office doorway, Severus rolled his eyes. "As requested, Lucius has been convinced you've been suitably whoring yourself out for me."
Eyes burning, the witch threw her pillow in his direction, but it whumped onto the floor just past the sofa's end. She stomped over to collect it and screeched, "Why are you such an arse?!"
Lady Selwyn's portrait snorted. "It runs in the blood."
As his wife slammed her bedroom door, Severus stood at his desk, flexing his tingling fingers. He should have taken better care with his words. It was not her fault his life was an uncontrollable mess. Well, it's partly her fault, but her contributions hardly signify.
From a logical standpoint, Granger was right. If asked about the article, no one would bat an eye if he claimed not to have read it, but they would question if she said similarly. Irrationally, however, his stomach dropped at the thought of her reading that rubbish.
Wiping his face, Severus cut back through the sitting room to head down to his lab.
It was ironic, really – after so many years spent yearning for recognition, he could not stand an article singing his praises. In part, it had to do with the timing. His birthday always reminded him of what a shit son he had been, and now he could reflect on what a shit friend and a shit husband he was. Apparently, he was also a shit double agent because he balked at being an even shittier husband and friend. He fully recognized he was a shit teacher, but until recently he had not thought himself such a shit potioneer. A fourth year Master's student should be able to devise an antidote based on the recipe of a given poison, but so far he had figured out fuck all.
The air seemed to thin as Severus descended the dark staircase. Feeling hot and nauseous, he tugged at his collar with clammy hands. His heart raced as he leaned against the wall to catch his breath, before sinking onto the step. Is this it, then? Apropos of you to die in the shadows like a rat. At least it deprives the Dark Lord his chance to murder you.
Frankly, it was astounding he had survived this long. Maybe things would work out without you mucking it all up?
Granger could go into hiding and would inherit his all his worldly possessions. Though meager, they were more than adequate recompense for putting up with him for three months. Minerva would curse his name as she struggled to find a suitable replacement potions instructor mid-term. Undoubtedly, they would have to coax Horace back for the time being. It would take the Dark Lord several months at least to find someone to brew his regenerative drafts and poisons.
Except no one would bother looking for an antidote. Rubbing his chest, the wizard heaved in several deep breaths. Fuck sake, you're not dying. Pull it together, suck it up, and get back to work.
Severus hauled himself to his feet and stumbled into his lab. He fetched a half-empty vial of Calming Draught from the first cupboard, downed the rest of it, then sat on his stool until it kicked in. Though he had been prone to anxiety attacks when younger, he had not experienced one in 16 years. It was humiliating enough to have it happen without witnesses, but if one occurred in the presence of the Dark Lord…
Shuddering, Severus rested his head atop his notebook. If you manage to see 39, it'll be a miracle.
xxxXxxx
Pushing about her breakfast, Hermione watched her husband ignore his colleagues. Or attempting to, at least, since his lips pursed in reaction to something Professor Laizment said. It was strange how easily those lips infuriated her. She should be used to his biting comments after six and a half years, yet his criticisms had always upset her more than others. For instance, Trelawney had said crueler things than Snape ever had, yet they had not affected her to the same extent.
Now, the witch knew that mouth of his could inflame her in an entirely different and much preferable way. Her stomach fluttered as she recalled their New Years kiss. She had not known it was possible to feel a kiss with her whole body, although it was possible the Malfoys' champagne had something to do with it. Regardless, the memory was clouding her judgement; even when angry at him, she still considered dragging his vicious mouth onto hers.
Had Laria Malfoy felt the same swooping stomach and tingling toes when kissing him? Hermione grimaced, having told herself she would not think about the other witch.
"Oi," Ginny nudged her. "If you're just gonna ogle him all morning, why bother sitting with us?"
Embarrassed, Hermione returned her eyes to the table. "I, erm, sorry. I was lost in thought."
"And just what type of thoughts were you having, Mrs. Snape?"
"Some of us are trying to eat," Harry grumbled.
Ginny gestured at Ron and a few other boys shoveling down food. "Some of us have to stomach that while eating."
Though Harry conceded the point with a snort, Ron gulped loudly. "Maybe she should just stay up there, then."
Hermione folded her arms. "Oh, she would certainly prefer sitting with her husband, but this is now my only option."
Ron gestured with his chin. "Looks like there's room over at Slytherin's – Oof!"
Ginny cocked her head at her brother. "Next time, I aim higher."
As Ron rubbed his shin, Harry cleared his throat. "What do you mean, 'Mione?"
She shook her head in annoyance. "Apparently, there were complaints about my behavior at the Head Table, so I'm no longer allowed to sit there."
"Your behavior?" Harry questioned, while Ginny asked, "Who snitched?"
Next to Ron, Seamus guffawed. "Jeezus, Granger! What'd you do? Suck him off at the Head Table?"
Hermione gaped at him. "At the Head Table?! Are you mental?"
"Head Table!" Peakes slapped Nigel Wolpert. "Get it?"
"So, you didn't do it there," Ginny leaned into her friend, "but you did do it somewhere."
"I didn't—"
"Oh, please. We've all seen the photos. You can't play the prude now."
"And it was his birthday," Lavender scooted closer.
Parvati peeked around her. "And no one saw you all weekend."
Hermione shook her head. "What happens between my husband and me is not your business."
"Potions classroom," Seamus snapped his fingers. "Reckon you slipped in there to give him a big ol' birthday surprise."
"Absolutely not."
"It couldn't have been before lunch since you both were here on time and not exerted, so it must've been after his last class. Who's in that class? Is that the firsties?"
"I've never –"
"Oi, firsties!" Seamus shouted down the table, until Dean leaned over to cover his mouth and asked, "So, you're saying you've never shagged in the Potions classroom."
"Gods, no!"
"Snogged? Or anything in between?"
"No!" she hissed. "Not anything, ever. It's inappropriate and completely unhygienic."
"Fantastic," Dean grinned, holding out his hands. "Pay up, arseholes."
Several of the older Gryffindor boys grumblingly handed a few sickles to the boy, who counted and divided the pile. He passed half the coins to Neville, who sheepishly apologized. "I just told them you wouldn't do that."
Hermione nodded slowly and picked up her glass, wishing it was filled with something stronger than juice.
"What about the storeroom?" Peakes asked. "Heard he dragged you in there and locked the door."
"Not for that! We were only in there two minutes!"
"Sometimes you only need a couple minutes."
"Maybe you do, Peakes," Seamus taunted, while several boys snickered.
"We had a conversation about some creep breaking into my home," Hermione snarled. "Not anything else."
A few other locations were suggested and dismissed before Lavender looked up from her private giggling with Parvati. "His office, obviously."
Taking a long sip, Hermione imagined herself kneeling before Snape's chair, slowly running her hands up his thighs as he stared down at her. Though complete fiction, she had pictured it enough over the weekend that it almost seemed real.
"Oh, she's blushing!"
"Well, that's a yes!"
"Over the desk or under it?"
"This is exactly why I didn't want to sit here," Hermione snarled at her friends, who shrugged sympathetically. Determined to avoid them, she watched the owls move about the Hall delivering the post.
"Greenhouses?"
"Quidditch pitch?"
"They both hate Quidditch," Harry snorted. "Why would –"
"Severus doesn't hate Quidditch," Hermione grimaced at hearing herself speak. "And no. Not on the Quidditch pitch."
"He just hates our team," Ginny grinned, collecting her Daily Prophet only to have it snatched away by Hermione, who then hid behind the newspaper.
Parvati and Lavender smirked at each other before answering in unison, "Library!"
Hermione rolled her eyes but remembered Snape caging her in at the library table to growl in her ear. What would have happened if instead of mocking him she had seized his mouth? Would he have still pulled away, or would he have kissed her back? And if they hadn't had an audience? Would he have pulled her from her seat…backed her into the stack and –
"Blushing!"
Hermione glared around the newspaper at Nigel, who had leaned out far enough to see her face. With a huff, she turned the page to skim the public opinion section. While most comments heaped further praise on Snape, one did not.
"What Which Wizard left out of their sycophantic portrayal of a mere professor is that Miss Malfoy would have been a student for much of their relationship. In publishing that connection, they have embarrassed a Sacred family and established a pattern of Snape taking advantage of impressionable young witches in his care." – Beatrix Grant
Ha. Looks like I'm not the only one receiving criticism. After a moment, however, she felt guilty. This was not condemnation over a minor faux pas, but a serious attack on his character. Unless there's some truth to it?
"Transfiguration classroom?"
"The hell, mate?"
Obviously, Snape had never been inappropriate with her – minus a few undeserved barbs – while she sat his class. That did not necessarily mean he never crossed a line with Laria Malfoy. Given the whole Death Eater thing, a younger Severus Snape had clearly been prone to poor decision-making.
"The bat hates McGonagall, yeah? What says 'fuck you' better than shagging her favorite student in her own classroom?"
"That's clever thinking, Palmer!"
Snape had also appeared quite comfortable with the girl in the photo, suggesting they had been close for some time prior. New Year's Eve 1986… He'd have been 26, and she… 18? 19? Freshly graduated, then?
Palmer tapped his temple. "Think like a Slytherin, mate."
Unless they meant 1986 was the New Year… when she'd still be a seventh year.
"Oh, ho, ho, kinky."
"Eye twitch!"
"Wait, what does an eye twitch mean?"
"Detention," Snape startled half the table including his wife, who nearly ripped Ginny's newspaper. Nigel lost his balance and cursed as he banged his elbow on the floor. "And I'll have five points for language, Mr. Wolpert."
The man's glare swept around the table before settling on Hermione. Moving closer, he delivered her post and stooped down to murmur, "Must you encourage their idiocy?"
Rage overriding her good sense, Hermione grabbed his jaw and kissed him. It was more a peck than the demanding smooch she had envisioned but was enough to stun both him and their audience. Smiling dangerously, she brushed off his robes. "Good luck in class today, darling."
His nostrils flared at realizing there was little he could do to chastise her at present. Instead, he returned her smirk. "Mind your manners in Arithmancy, pet."
Her eyes flashed, then followed him as he stalked away. When he exited the Great Hall, she turned back to find everyone around staring at her. Farther down the table, those who had not witnessed the incident were also looking their way, intrigued by the sudden silence.
Eventually, Seamus cleared his throat. "So… any ideas on which of us have detention? Or when?"
"Maybe he'll get back to us later?" Dean shrugged.
"Here's hopin' he won't!" Seamus raised his glass.
As gossiping erupted, Hermione let out a slow breath and sagged onto the table. "Oh, why did I do that?"
"Not sure," Harry grumbled, "but I rather wish you hadn't."
"So much worse in person," Ron agreed.
"I thought it was cute," Lavender exclaimed.
"Anyone else see his brain switch off a moment?" Ginny giggled before rubbing Hermione's back. "Oh, cheer up. You probably made his morning."
Hermione sighed. "I'm going to pay for it later."
Squeezing her shoulder, the redhead scanned the Head Table to see Dumbledore frowning, McGonagall hiding her mouth behind her napkin, and Vector glaring dangerously. "Yeah, they might make you eat in the kitchens now… pet."
xxxXxxx
Hermione grimaced at the burn that twisted over her forearm. Professor Laizment assured her it would be gone by supper, and it seemed to be fading a little. It was tender to the touch, but it hurt more to admit her distraction to blame. She should have focused solely on her opponent and not on her classmates' whispers or the opinions of a random stranger.
But perhaps what stung the most was her friends' reaction. Had she been injured dueling a Slytherin three months ago, Harry and Ron would have erupted, likely provoking a fight and ending up in detention. Instead, Harry had checked to ensure she was not seriously injured before critiquing her performance as though he were the Defense instructor, while Ron stood silently by. She was grateful to see them act with more restraint, but it was disappointing that the Slytherin students seemed the most concerned. Well, besides Neville.
With a sigh, Hermione tugged down her sleeve and opened her bookbag. Since she was already ahead on class readings, she went through her post instead. Having been seen with Narcissa Malfoy must have swayed some opinions as there were several invitations to tea at stodgy-sounding manors and estates. That said, nearly all invitations were for weekdays, so they either forgot she was a student or hoped she would decline.
The last envelope yielded an actual letter.
Dear Madam Snape,
I hope you do not mind my writing you though we have not been formally introduced. If I were in your place, I would prefer personal reassurance over public. Severus has undoubtedly explained, but I would like to offer my perspective. Although Severus was my mentor and friend before he became my professor, we have never been intimately involved.
I was six years old when Severus began working in the shop. My father became fond of him and often invited him into our home, though I think Severus only accepted out of fear of offending my parents. In the shop, I became his shadow, learning through him and later from him when my mother deemed me old enough. I imagine our reported outings stemmed from those errands. At the request of my father and cousin Lucius, Severus accompanied me to a few events to which I had not received invitation. The photograph, I grant you, is suggestive, but the only impropriety I requested his participation in was to raid my uncle's greenhouses for seeds and cuttings.
I admit my father was hopeful of a match, and I likely would have accepted his suit – not out of great love, but out of admiration and respect. However, Severus never expressed any inclination towards me. His heart seemed made for another, so I am thrilled that it has finally found you. Or, if the papers are to be believed, that you found him. Of course, a Masters' level potion would deliver to him his True Love.
My father has only complimented you, Madam Snape, and I regret I missed gaining your introduction at the Gala. I am working toward my own Mastery and could not leave a rather tempestuous brew. I hope to rectify that soon, even if only to show there are no sore feelings or longing glances from my direction.
I warn you that I shall be refuting the insinuations in the press this week. Should you have further concerns or questions, I am in your service.
Laria Malfoy
Groaning, Hermione stared up at the vaulted ceiling of Snape's office. The woman sounded perfectly reasonable and not at all deserving of the scrutiny she was now facing.
It's strange how many lives have been upended because you were rude to Rita Skeeter.
The door slamming open startled Hermione out of her chair. "For god sake, will you stop doing that?!"
Snape glanced at her before shutting the door with his foot and hauling the crate of potions to his desk. "The rate you're going, it'll no longer be an issue. I'll be sacked, and you'll be living on table scraps."
"The rate I'm going? I didn't do anything!" When he arched an incredulous eyebrow at her, she rolled her eyes. "Fine. I'm sorry for kissing you, but you said I encouraged them when all I said was that I'm not allowed to sit with you at meals. Oh, I also denied sucking you off at the Head Table and shagging you in your classroom. Should I not have?"
Severus braced himself against his desk. "Then the conversation should have ended there, not continued for –"
"How long were you listening?"
"I wasn't," he straightened. "The antics caught faculty attention."
"Then you should have seen me trying to ignore them. They just kept going, and no one told them to knock it off. Well, you did finally, but I would've been more grateful if you weren't a jerk about it. And if you hadn't sicced Professor McGonagall on me!"
Severus shrugged. "She needed to know which of her cubs were in need of punishing."
"You told her I would give detailed explanation about what was said!"
"So she could determine the severity of punishment warranted."
"That was so much more embarrassing than sitting at that table," the witch shook her head. "And for your information, she decided a House meeting was needed, not detention."
He snorted and turned toward the crate. "Unsurprising."
As he began checking potions, Hermione stashed Laria's letter in her bookbag. "I received several invitations to—"
"No."
"They're not for you; they're for me. For tea. I just want to know if there are any I have to accept."
"No."
The girl brought the invitations to his desk. "Will you look at these, please?"
He set down a potion loudly. "Granger, you do not need to accept any invitations."
"Then why was I subjected to the Lucius Malfoy oyster fest last week?" She raised her chin. "Alright. If you have no opinion, I'll just take them up to the Headmaster and –"
"Don't you dare!" Severus grabbed her as she turned to leave. Noting the pain on her face, however, he released her arm. "What's wrong with you?"
Hermione winced. "It's nothing, really. I should've paid better attention in Defense."
"Show me. Now."
Begrudgingly, she pulled up her sleeve. "It's already improving."
"That's improved?" Severus gently took her wrist, twisting her arm to study the burn. "What have you applied to it?"
Hermione raised her eyes from his hand to shake her head. "Professor Laizment said it would resolve on its own."
"Perhaps by Thursday," he scowled. "With whom were you paired?"
"Bulstrode."
"Ah, yes. That worked out well for you last time."
The girl returned his glare. "I didn't choose her; she was assigned."
"What shield charm were you using?"
"Protego."
"Praesidio is preferable with fire-based hexes."
"I don't know that one well."
"You didn't practice it beforehand?" He frowned as she shook her head. "Did you practice any shields beforehand?"
"Well, last term we –"
Growling, Snape dropped her arm and moved behind his desk. He opened a drawer, muttering "incompetent buffoon" under his breath, and extracted a slim cannister. He set it on the edge of the desk before snatching up her stack of invitations. "Cover the entire area."
Hermione watched him barrel out of the office, then picked up the proffered balm with a defeated sigh.
xxxXxxx
"The man was appointed by the Ministry, Severus. What is it you expect me to do?"
"Oh, I don't bloody know – reprimand him?" Snape snarled.
Dumbledore raised an eyebrow. "Like I've reprimanded you?"
"The man is utterly incompetent!"
The Headmaster sighed. "You know as well as I that minor injuries are part of the learning process, especially in Defense. If I were to investigate every cut, burn, or poisoning in your class, I would get nothing done."
"And if you did, you would find I take every precaution I can. I review proper protocol every year and monitor their form during every brew. They have reading assignments for every potion including any safety concerns associated with ingredients or techniques. And whenever there is an incident, I heal them myself or send them to Poppy. I do not pat them on the head and tell them it'll be good as new by sleepy time!"
As Dumbledore chuckled, Severus heaved a breath. "He should never have paired the two of them. Anyone worth their salt would have assessed abilities before assigning partners."
"If you think so little of her skill, one might wonder at your nominating her for Head Girl."
"Miss Bulstrode may have the grace and stature of a bull, but she also has the brute strength and determination, which makes her one of our top duelists. Granger is more well-rounded in her talents, but you know her dueling needs improvement."
Dumbledore leaned back in his chair. "If you're dissatisfied with the tutelage she's receiving, you can withdraw her from the course and train her yourself."
Severus snorted loudly. "As if I have the time or patience."
"I'm glad you recognize that," he stood. "As such, I trust you will not be in here anytime the girl gets a paper cut or her feelings bruised. If that is all, we are late for supper."
The professor moved to the door then paused and turned back to face his employer. "Is your goal in this farce to exploit my wife to foster new social connections?"
Albus shook his head disapprovingly. "Of course not, Severus. I would have sent you to the Gala with or without her. Frankly, it may have been more fruitful without her."
"So you've said," Snape withdrew the tea invitations from his pocket. "Then you won't interfere if she declines these."
Blue eyes locked onto brown for several seconds before the Headmaster silently held out his hand.