Teamwork

Teamwork

Chapter 4

"Ow!"

A sharp pain in her right eye made Hermione shriek and jerk away from Snape. She clutched her fingers to the eye and rubbed carefully.

"One of your blasted memos," Snape said, picking up the folded piece of paper.

Hermione sighed and snatched it away from him quite a bit more forcefully than she had intended to.

"Bloody nuisance," she judged and began to read the memo. "It's from Pete. We have our test subject: two wizards have been dueling in a Muggle-run café. Just the waiter as a witness. The Aurors are already out and after the wizards."

Snape stepped over to his cauldron and grabbed two of the smaller phials. He pocketed one himself and handed the other one to Hermione. She turned the phial over in her hands thoughtfully and raised her voice when Snape reached for the doorknob.

"Wait. We can't go like this, robes and all."

She reached into her left sleeve and drew out her wand. Crossing her arms, she lightly tapped the tip against her lips in thought. Now, that was an idea... She smiled to herself and swiftly transfigured his robes into faded blue jeans and a black silk shirt. She watched him look down his body with wide eyes - yes, those jeans were meant to be that tight... When he looked up, however, he wore only the slightest hint of a smile and found his wand that was sticking out of the back pocket of said jeans.

"Allow me..." he said and Hermione found herself in a knee-length black skirt of soft denim and a sleeveless white top that laced down her front. A smug grin spread on Snape's face, but Hermione just grinned right back and transfigured a dishtowel into a jacket that matched her skirt. Then she threw a glance back at Snape, who was still standing by the door. Nah, the jacked was too formal next to him, she decided and made it a sweat jacket in blazing red. Snape, face once more schooled back to the ever expressionless mask he used to wear, opened the door for her, and they just made it to the elevator before the golden grille slid shut.

~*~

Wearily Snape leaned against the elevator wall. Thankful for his yearlong experience not to let his feelings show on his face, he wondered what he had been thinking. She had looked so helpless and beaten, so utterly kissable. Her tears had made him want to turn her into the Hermione of his dreams. There was nothing to feel so guilty about, and he knew it. She wasn't his student anymore. Then why did this make him so miserable? Why did it feel so wrong? And why did it have to feel so good when it felt so wrong at the same time? What the hell had possessed him to kiss Hermione Granger?

Suddenly - the elevator had stopped on the Auror's floor - a woman rushed in who always managed to make his eyes roll back in their sockets: Nymphadora Tonks.

"Mione! Hi!" she shrieked, and flung herself into Hermione's arms.

~*~

Hermione hoped her smile didn't look too phony when she returned Tonks' exuberant embrace.

"Hi, Tonks. Out on a case?" she asked.

"Yeah, the usual, can't tell you yet," she said, and only then seemed to notice their rather unusual exterior for the location.

She turned and eyed Snape from head to toe; then gave him an appreciating smile.

"Nice jeans, Severus," she grinned, and Hermione wondered if he would dare to hex her here at the ministry. But he only shot her a dark glare, and folded his arms across his chest.

"Where're you going?" she turned back to Hermione. "Apparition center, too?"

Hermione nodded, "Found a test subject for our potion."

She had the feeling Tonks would always show up when she wanted to see her the least. She desperately needed this bit of time to think, brief as it would be. But with her around... She hardly heard a word of what the - today - lime-green haired witch was talking about against the backdrop of constant roaring in her ears.

Tonks had confiscated Hermione's arm, and was bragging on about some awfully handsome wizard she had met on her last case. Hermione couldn't help but stare at Snape's back as the three of them strode along the corridor leading down to the Apparition cubicles. Then Tonks disappeared into one of the small cubicles where she was awaited already. Snape and Hermione found themselves an empty cubicle, and she consulted her memo for the exact location of the café where their test subject was waiting.

Soft *cracks* were emanating from the cubicles around them where other witches and wizards went about their daily business. Hermione was all too aware of Snape standing very close behind her, his body giving off a heat that made Hermione fear she might splinch herself if she coudn't get her mind off it. She focused on the location again and frowned. Snape would never know where that was, so deep in the Muggle part of the town was it. She would have to Apparate them both, but how should she broach that to Snape without offending him? But he surprised her for the second time that day when he laid his arm around her shoulders, and actually asked her to take them to the place. Hermione had to concentrate hard to manage Apparating them together, and Snape's arm around her shoulders was no help, either.

~*~

With the small familiar *crack* Snape and Hermione arrived in a deserted alley in a pretty rundown but quiet part of Muggle London. They advanced to the next corner, and Hermione indicated the café in question with a small gesture of her head. Few people could be seen in the streets, and Snape was eternally grateful for that little detail. The café looked like none he would have chosen for a coffee break: sleazy, smeared window front, the paint peeling away from the frames, a crooked name plate over the door. That thing was so dirty he couldn't decipher what it read. He couldn't see any customers through the windows or the opedoor but a lone waiter was leaning over a table. The man was cleaning the table top with a filthy rag, but was staring off into nowhere, obviously not paying attention to what he was doing.

"Okay, let's go," he heard Hermione murmur beside him, and then she grabbed his hand and pulled him with her across the street. What was she doing? Playing house with him? He thanked every deity there might be that no witch or wizard would see them like this. Running around the Ministry in these clothes had been humiliating enough. Reluctantly he fell into step beside her, briefly noticing the exquisite feel of her tiny, incredibly soft hand in his.

They reached the café and stepped inside. Hermione greeted the waiter, and walked over to him when he didn't respond.

"You look awful," she said, laying a gentle hand on his arm to stop his perpetual motion, "distraught. Come on, let's get you some coffee."

She led him over to the dirty counter by his arm, and Snape followed, carefully observing the stranger. Her attentions had somehow brought life back into the man, and he sat down on a barstool and started to talk.

"There were two men in here... so strange, thought they were from some kind of sect or something. Dressed all in black, long cloaks and stuff. Creepy!"

Snape drew another stool closer to him and sat down, pretending to be astonished and fascinated by the man's story. He hoped he was making a plausible impression.

"And then they started to argue... about a girl, I believe. But then it got real scary..."

Snape watched Hermione out of the corner of his eye. She had moved behind the counter and made coffee for the waiter. He saw her take the small phial of potion out of a pocket in her jacket. She dripped a generous amount of the liquid into the coffee, and made sure the waiter was paying no attention to her. Hermione pushed the doctored coffee toward the waiter.

"Here, this will bring some color to your face again," she said, smiling sweetly.

The man smiled back briefly, and picked up the steaming mug. Snape watched with baited breath - not that he was ever going to admit it - how he took a long drink of the hot black liquid and set the mug back down. Then he just sat there. Snape had expected him to show confusion, ask where he was or something along those lines. But he just sat there and didn't move. Hermione shot him a worried glance. Snape gave a non-committal shrug, then waved his hand in front of the man's eyes: no reaction.

"Hello?" Hermione asked.

Nothing. Snape began to feel fortunate that their test subject was still sitting up and breathing. Hermione grabbed the man's shoulders over the counter and turned him toward her.

"What's your name?" she asked very slowly.

"Mark," the waiter said equally slowly.

"What happened?" Hermione tried again, but this question only got her a dumbfounded look on Mark's face.

There had to be something wrong with the potion. Snape mentally went through the ingredients, the brewing process and whatever else there was to be considered. He couldn't come up with a single doubt on what they had done. The potion was perfect. He had brewed it, tested it; it had passed. Muggles. Unpredictable. He couldn't help it, but they were.

"Severus!" Hermione jerked him up from his musings. "What do we do now?"

There was an edge of panic in her voice that betrayed her calm. But there was no mistaking it: they had a problem; and not a small one.

TBC