Changes Made

Chapter Twenty

Hermione finished brewing her Elixir of Shadows right on time. She turned off the heat and watched the dark liquid swirling gently in the cauldron for a moment before beginning her carefully executed clean up. She dipped and labeled a small flask of her Elixir and walked it to Professor Snape's desk ignoring Malfoy who leered unpleasantly. When Snape took the vial from her, their fingertips brushed ever so gently and their eyes locked. The spell was broken when Crabbe knocked his cutting board off of his desk, spilling beetles eyes and Runespoor egg shells across the floor.

Hermione stepped away from Snape's desk trying as hard as she could to look casual and uncaring. Snape rose from his desk and crossed the classroom to torment Crabbe, who was clumsily trying to clean up his mess. Malfoy slid a foot from under his desk as Hermione passed. Hermione, lost in contemplation of her momentary rapture, tripped. She fell forward and hit the cold stone floor hard, catching herself with her forearms.

"Detention, Mr. Malfoy," rang Snape's icy voice from just behind Hermione. Hermione pushed herself to her feet, smirking to herself at Malfoy's shocked expression. She hurried to her seat without looking back at Snape. She finished tidying her workspace and packed all of her belongings into her rucksack. She cheered silently for Neville as he shuffled to the front of the room, holding a flask of the Elixir of Shadows. Although it was slightly paler than most of the other student's, it was still completely identifiable and in all likeliness, functional. Hermione beamed at him as he shuffled back to his seat. Neville went pink and smiled bashfully.

When the bell rang, Hermione waited patiently for Harry and Ron. As they passed Snape's desk, the professor spoke without looking up.

"After classes, Mr. Potter, Miss Granger. I'll be expecting you."

"Yes, sir," Hermione answered promptly.

"Yes, sir," Harry said after a miserable glance at Ron.

The friends hurried from the dungeons, speaking quietly about Snape's odd behaviour during class.

"He gave Malfoy detention!" Ron was saying, looking rather bewildered. "I don't get it. And did you see his hair?"

"Only for the past week," Harry said, clapping Ron on the shoulder. "We're used to it by now. Didn't Hermione write you about it?"

"Yeah. Just the shock of seeing it in person..."

Hermione rolled her eyes. "Boys."

"He's never been precisely kind to you, though, Hermione, and he's always taken the ferret's side."

"Maybe Malfoy did something to piss Snape off earlier," Hermione suggested. "Besides, people change."

Ron bent over and touched the floor. "Hmm... it's cold," he said grinning, "Maybe hell froze over..."

Hermione heaved a sigh. "Shut up."

After the sixth years left, a bawdy group of third years entered the dungeons looking rather apprehensive. They fell silent at the sight of Professor Snape, sitting straight at his desk. He watched from the corner of his eye as they one by one relaxed, relieved that eh had no harsh words on the first day of class. He noted, too, that several of them nudged each other and nodded surreptitiously in his direction, quizzical looks on their young faces. After a rather painful hour of potion-brewing, Snape was left alone in his cold classroom once more. He vanished a melted cauldron rather neatly, straightening chairs with a wave of his polished wand. He sank into the chair at his desk to hold his head in his hands and contemplate his lesson plan for Potter and Hermione that afternoon. And after that... he wasn't sure quite what would occur. Hermione sure put his composure to the test, a test that he'd nearly failed the Friday before!

When Potter and Hermione finally trickled in from the dungeon corridors, Snape was waiting for them in his rooms, pacing moodily back and forth before the fire place. He ordered the students to sit, conjuring flat cushions for them to sit on as an afterthought. Settling himself rigidly on the floor before them, he began the lesson.

"We begin today with wandless Occlumency," he said, looking the Potter boy straight in the eye unflinchingly. "I don't expect success this time, but you will practise. Do you understand?"

"Yes sir," mumbled Harry and Hermione together.

"Wands work with magic similarly to the way in which a magnifying lens focuses sunlight on a particular point. It will be difficult to use your body and mind the same way in which you use your wand, but there is no use in telling me that you are incapable of it. We will begin with a meditative exercise, much like the ones used in several forms of the martial arts, in yoga, and in Eastern religions. Sit cross-legged," Snape ordered, rising to his feet. "Back straight. You're too used to slouching." He corrected first Harry's posture and then Hermione's, feeling the warmth of her back through her robes.

Ignoring the sensation with years of practise, the Potions Master stepped away and settled himself before his students, facing them. "Now close your eyes and focus inward. Find the beating of your heart. Breathe deeply, in rhythm with your heartbeat. Feel it, concentrate on it, think of nothing else." He did the same, taking comfort in the simplicity of the exercise. "Relax, one section of your body at a time, beginning with your feet. Focus on it, and let it go." Moments later he continued, "Once you are completely relaxed, bring your concentration to your very centre and reach down inside yourself until you find your magic. You'll know when you've found it."

He opened his eyes to see Harry's face, stony in concentration, and then his attention turned to Hermione, and he nearly forgot to give the next instruction. Her face was soft and unguarded, her eyelashes brushing her cheeks gently in a smooth sweep of golden brown. The next moment, she'd found her well of magic, Snape knew. A palpable glow spread across her face, raising her cheekbones and parting her lips in a surprised smile. "When you've found your source," Snape said haltingly, "please state its colour."

"Gold," the Potter boy said in awe.

"Red," Hermione said wonderingly, "deep burgundy red."

"Follow your magic to the channel in your wand arm," Snape directed coolly. "Follow it all the way to your fingertips. Once you have familiarised yourself with its pathways, return to the well in your centre and focus once more on your heartbeat." His eyes were riveted on Hermione's glowing face. He took in every wave of her hair as it fell about her shoulders, every shift her robe made as she breathed deeply, every nuance of expression that crossed her face as she concentrated on her heart. Almost fearing what would happen, Snape gave the last command.

"Open you eyes." His breath caught unnaturally as Hermione's eyes fluttered open and she found his gaze with her own shining one, her lips still parted in a smile. they stared at each other, entranced, just watching the other's face. Harry broke the silence by coming out of his reverie.

"That was brilliant," he said warmly. "Why haven't we done it before?" Snape forced himself to look away from the girl before him.

"Because what comes after this is much less pleasant and much more difficult. You may not be able to do magic without your wand for a long time. In fact, I rather doubt you will," Snape said flatly. "Your homework tonight will be to practise this meditation at least twice. That is all. Mr. Potter, you may go. Ms. Granger?"

"Please, Professor, I'd need to get something from my room," Hermione said hesitantly with a glance at Harry.

"Don't dawdle," the Potions Master ordered. "Meet me in my classroom. We have work to do." Hermione followed Harry out of the room, glancing back when she thought he couldn't see. Secretly, Snape was relieved that she was going, at least momentarily; he needed a space or two to breathe. Running shaking hands through his hair, the Potions Master sighed. He needed to take control of this situation, and he needed to do it before things got out of hand.

Hermione practically threw herself onto her bed in the girl's dormitories, which were, thankfully, abandoned. Heart pounding furiously, she shut her eyes and forced herself to become calm. This was absurd! She could barely concentrate on her meditation while he spoke, couldn't even look him in the eye without breaking out in chills. Breathing deeply, Hermione sat up again and stared hard out the window at the far end of the room. She'd simply have to restrain herself, think of anything but him. She was his student, he her teacher. That was all, she told herself firmly. And that was how it was going to stay. Thus convicted, Hermione lifted herself from the bed and ambled calmly down the spiraled staircase, through the common room, and back down to the drafty dungeons. Professor Snape was already in the classroom when she arrived, but Hermione forced herself to look away, waiting for him to speak.

"I have prepared the ingredients," Snape said coldly from behind his desk where eh sat, gazing down at the book of potions. "Get the silver cauldron and light a fire here," he instructed shortly, indicating a burner to the left of his desk. Hermione hastened to do so. "Take the moon water and put it in the cauldron. Add the essence of eyebright." Hermione did this also, careful not to look directly at him. "Wait for it to boil," Snape directed at last, and Hermione stepped away from the cauldron. She stared into it for a moment, then remembering that a watched cauldron never boils, Hermione moved even farther away and settled into a chair in front of the Potion Master's desk. She studied the wood before her, and then the stone floor, and then the ceiling, where and odd sort of stain had appeared in a corner. Hermione pulled out her wand and aimed.

"Scourgify!" she said softly. In a flash of light, the stain vanished leaving only cold, grey stone behind. Feeling eyes upon her, Hermione glanced up at Snape to find him watching her intently. She looked hurriedly away, distracting herself by checking on the water which had begun to bubble promisingly.

"Add the bluebell," Snape ordered distantly. Hermione did, watching as the water hissed and turned a translucent lavender colour. Minutes later, Snape spoke again, directing Hermione to add the acacia root and then the ash root, stirring three times counterclockwise after each addition. "It must boil exactly twenty-four hours before the next addition," Snape informed her afterwards. "I have already set a timer. You will be here tomorrow afternoon. Do not be late."

Hermione nodded. "Yes, sir."

"You may go," the dark man said coolly. "Close the door on your way out." Once she'd gone, he set his head in his hands. She'd avoided him the entire time. Obviously, the attraction was entirely in his head, as he'd suspected all along. He really was a dirty old man.

A/N: Hey! Sorry it took so long. Chapter Twenty-One will be along eventually. Thanks everyone who reviewed! You know who you are. Aindel S. Druida and Kerichi, you guys are triple-fab... thanks for being so talented.

Have a fabulous day!