Adoration, or: Should've Been Slytherin

Hijja

Story Summary:
Exploding cauldrons, timely healing charms, and underhanded dealings in the Potions master's office... [Hermione/Snape; 'pre-het'] .

Posted:
02/20/2005
Hits:
2,605
Author's Note:
While I despise Valentine's Day for having been invented by the evil capitalist superstructure, this is a decidedly uncommercial Valentine ficlet for the lovely Thea. Because I love her, of course!

"I hope, Miss Granger, that you are not feeling any adverse effects from this... accident."

Professor Snape's long-fingered hands were still curled around Hermione's wrist as he examined the quickly receding spread of red on her lower arm, where the boiling valerian infusion had burned her skin.

"No Professor," she assured shyly. "Thank you for the Healing Charm. And please don't be angry with Neville - it was just a mistake."

Snape's brows drew together above a narrow-eyed glare.

"Dropping powdered Ashwinder eggs instead of ground ash bark into an infusion of valerian is the height of incompetence! Not to mention that Ashwinder products are Class B Trade-Restricted ingredients... Merlin knows where the boy got it from. And instead of a common Dreamfilled Sleep Concoction to end up with an-"

"- Adoration Potion," Hermione finished.

"Indeed." Snape murmured next to her ear. His breath smelled of cloves, she noticed.

"It would have been such a pity to see lasting damage done to the most promising Potions pupil I've taught in years," he added while massaging the last traces of pain from her skin. It sent quite an interesting tingle down into the pit of her stomach.

"Thank you, sir." She lowered her eyes bashfully. "I didn't know-"

"I'm not in the habit of awarding Outstanding Potions OWLs to fools, Miss Granger." The shadow of a scowl crept onto the sharp features. "And neither do I believe that exaggerated praise is conducive to the personality of a student." The scowl deepened. "If you require proof, just take a look at young Mr Malfoy."

Hermione stared at him with wide eyes. Snape's hair was still wet from the shower he'd taken to get rid of the botched potion that had erupted all over him as he'd thrown himself at the hissing cauldron. The fine strands at his temples had already dried in the warmth of the office, and brushed the side of his cheekbones like downy raven feathers.

"It would be dishonest, however, not to admit that you are one of the most gifted and intelligent witches in your generation, and one of the brightest I've been privileged to teach during my career at Hogwarts," he continued. "Who among your peers would have realised that sprinkling powdered Ashwinder egg into an infusion of valerian would produce-"

"- an Adoration Potion," Hermione nodded again. "I picked up Draught and Pestle's Depressing Draughts and Melancholic Tonics on mood-altering potions in Diagon Alley last summer." She bit her lip. "It's not NEWT-relevant material, I know, but a fascinating read." She paused for an agonising second until effusiveness had wrestled caution to its knees in the sandpit of her soul, then added, "Although I found their speculations about the possibility of creating an Imperius Potion just a little bit woolly."

"Talented, indeed." Snape's purr ghosted over her cheek as he brushed the few stray strands of hair that had escaped from her bushy ponytail back behind her ear. "I admire your dedication, Miss Granger - Hermione."

The fingers lingered on her cheekbone, and then trailed down lightly to her chin. Hermione shivered, unable to meet the eyes she knew had to be fixed intently on her face. He tilted up her head, a gentle but insistent pressure.

Forced to meet his gaze, her cheeks warmed under the intense stare of those piercing dark eyes.

"A powerful witch - who has grown into a rather stunning young woman."

The smell of cloves intensified as he leaned in, his hand now cupping her cheek and his eyes fixed firmly on her mouth. A strange fluttering sensation spread through Hermione's stomach, as if a drugged pixie had strayed there. She swallowed and felt her lips parting slightly, as if on their own accord.

A peculiar look flitted over Snape's face for an instant. He stared at her lips, only inches away from his own, then down at his hand which still held her wrist in a forceful grip. He let go.

"Miss Granger-"

Hermione offered a shaky smile and took a step back.

"Thank you so much for the Healing Charm, sir, and for the, um, encouragement," she stammered. "It means a lot to me." She forcefully pushed back the annoying wisps of hair that had come loose from behind her ear again, and managed to force out, "I think I'd better run and pick up my books from the Potions classroom now!" before bolting from the room.

She was still trembling and wobbling on shaky legs after the door had clicked shut behind her. As if it were a good-luck charm, her fingers closed around the small phial that held the leftover Powder of Ashwinder Egg in her robe pocket before murmuring a quiet mental apology to poor Neville.

It was Valentine's Day after all, she reminded herself as she began to ascend the stairs leading up to the Gryffindor common room. And sincere as Ron's Singing Valentine (now silenced under the considerable might of Hogwarts: a History with all its 4719 pages) had been, the best gifts, Hermione knew, were those you gave to yourself.

And there were distinct perks to studying arcane potions, no matter how much her fellow Gryffindors disputed the fact; too bad, however, that most of them lasted only for far too short a time.

- finis -


Author notes: Good? Bad? Dead boring?
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