(Untitled)

[leviohhhhsa]

[Who:] Hermione Granger, Severus Snape
[What:] 'Just stand there and let me try and curse you.' Magical experiments ahoy.
[When:] End of Week 6.
[Where:] Hermione's new base of operations.

Comments

[emptyyourself]

Severus didn't bother with a reply to Hermione's message. She knew he had been waiting - and if she was as familiar with him as she claimed, she probably also knew he disliked being placed at her beck and call. He didn't believe he could have changed that much in fifteen years.

Or perhaps it was simply the tea that made him so tetchy. It bothered him on a number of levels: that she had tea at all, that he wanted it, that she had offered him some as though he would care to share anything of hers. That he was getting so rankled about something as absurd as tea bags

[leviohhhhsa]

She glanced round as she heard him enter, and wasn't surprised at all that he didn't bother with knocking, though that didn't mean she wasn't a little irritated by it- though it would have passed quickly had he not then slammed the door. Honestly.

The words try not to bring the house down were on the tip of her tongue, before she realised that that was an exact quote from her mother, and that treating Severus Snape like a child was probably not the best course of action if she wanted his help. (It was a sign of how she'd adjusted that that thought only seemed odd if she really examined it). All the same, he was so childish at times- she could hardly be blamed for wanting to constantly tell him off.

"Hello," she tried instead, straightening up and turning to face him properly. Really, it was getting on for evening, but never mind that. "Thanks for coming," she added, because she had to at least attempt to be polite, even though she knew full well it was basically futile.

[emptyyourself]

Her greeting earned her a raised eyebrow in return. Severus folded his hands behind his back, debating whether he ought to acknowledge it or tell her to get on with things. He didn't have all night.

Well, he did, but he certainly didn't want her thinking that his time was hers to abuse. Just because they were the only ones on the militant side with magical ability (Lucius notwithstanding) didn't mean they were friends, or that he wanted to play nice. Nevermind that little scene of hers in the corridor. He still wasn't quite certain why he had sat with her and tried to rouse her out of it.

"Well?"

[leviohhhhsa]

She sighed, picking up the stick that lay on the desk. Futile, as she'd expected. "Alright. I think Malfoy probably told you about this- he suggested creating something Muggles could carry with the ability to ward off curses, similar to that cane he carries." If there was a hint of disdain when she referred to Malfoy's apparent favourite possession- well, it could only be entirely accidental. Of course.

"They don't look like much, but it was this or bits of iron railing, and it's hard enough to enchant the wood, nevermind getting into the problems metal could pose in terms of retaining magic- er, anyway. There are a few...kinks, in that spells have a tendency to go rebounding off them quite...unpredictably at times." Hence the burnmarks on the walls, which she'll get around to getting rid of a little later. One or two of the sticks also burst into flames, but she's fairly sure she ironed out that particular problem and sees no reason to mention it to him. "Um- how's your Latin? Mine isn't bad, but I just wish I had a dictionary..."

[emptyyourself]

He fixed her with an impassive stare for a long moment as he deliberated whether to begin listing off the inherent flaws in her plans, the obvious routes she should have taken, and so on and on. His eyes traveled to the burn marks on the walls, lingering on them before lowering to the pile of wood.

Finally, he returned his attention to her. "My Latin is as a wizard's Latin ought to be. As is my Greek."

He snorted softly - and up went that eyebrow again. "Did you consider that there is a good reason why wandmakers study wandlore for years before mucking about with wood, and why protective amulets are protective amulets and not protective sticks"

[leviohhhhsa]

She coloured a little- and then raised an eyebrow right back at him. "Yes," she said tartly and rather prissily. "I did. Did you notice we don't have any wandmakers here? And did you pick up on the fact that these are, for the most part, working?"

She fidgeted restlessly with the stick and continued, warming to her theme, "It's perfectly possible and relatively simple to apply a Shield Charm to a piece of clothing, but Malfoy wanted something "a little less passive". Take it up with him, why don't you? And come and look at the work before you start criticising it out of hand. I know it isn't perfect, but it's far from worthless."

As last sentences left her mouth, she realised she might have been talking to his older self about a potion she was sure was at least deserving of some sort of reward- had she ever had the nerve to say what she thought about the matter, or the impulsiveness not to care about the consequences.

[emptyyourself]

He waved off her arguments impatiently. She was missing the point entirely, by his reckoning.

"Listen, Granger: I'm certain your little experiments are all very impressive, but my point isn't that you need the knowledge of a wandmaker. You were having complications with the wood at first, and with metal, correct? Why didn't you attempt it on glass? Obviously gemstones are out of the question, but a shard of glass must be perfectly easy to come by. Or stones. Or concrete! There's literally tonnes of it lying about!"

He suspected his imperious tone wasn't doing him any favors, but it irked him. She was intelligent, and wasting her time with a bit of wood seemed unforgivable.

[leviohhhhsa]

"Because I needed something which could be easily held up and manipulated, and because wood is the best for retaining magical properties," she snapped back, trying to retain her calm. "The shape was correct and I wanted to do as little magic as I could on it to avoid it causing trouble with communicators or any other piece of technology. There are enough layers of enchantment on this-" she indicated the wood "-already. Transfiguring or Charming a bit of glass into an appropriate physical shape would add another issue, especially when considered in conjunction with every other bit of magic already on it. It's not as simple as a stick with a few charms on it, I'm sure I don't have to tell you that. It's been enchanted into next week, for Heaven's sake, and it will stay."

A pause, and then the main reason-- "Anyway, I've done more research on wood. Yes, it's difficult to work with, but it's also agreed to be excellent when used properly, and so therefore there's almost no end to the literature on it."

[emptyyourself]

He very nearly brought a hand to his forehead in sheer aggravation. He crossed the room and sank down on the sofa, his elbows resting on his knees. Holding out his hands as he spoke, he replied sourly, "You needn't transfigure or charm a bit of glass. Use a sticking charm and put it on the end of one of those bits of wood. Or hang it from their necks, as one does with protective amulets. The glass is easier to enchant, or should be, and there's no need to-"

It was then that Severus realized two things: first, when Granger set her mind to something, she was a dog with a bone. Second, they would be going at this all night, because he was, too.

He would simply have to make the same attempt on a bit of glass and show her. Later, of course. For now, he simply held up his hands in defeat and sneered, "Carry on. You have an enchanted bit of stick. Now what?"

[leviohhhhsa]

She made a noise of pure frustration through her teeth- and finally gave into her urge to throw things at him, in a completely innocent way. "What do you think? Catch," she said briskly and rather snappishly, tossing the stick in his direction- not cruelly, but still with some display of aggression. It was lighter than by rights it should have been, thanks to a simple Lightening Charm. "If you don't want to look over my Latin or the notes I've made, I suppose we'd better get straight into testing, hadn't we? And you can give me whatever critique you like after you've seen it work."

[emptyyourself]

He caught it - just barely, at that - and scowled at her, suspecting from the noise she'd made right before flinging it at him that she would have liked to have used more force in that toss. With an impatient tut, he turned his attention to the stick, rolling it between his fingers and inspecting it for flaws.

The aggravation faded from his expression as he engrossed himself in the process; he drew his wand and murmured an incantation or two over the stick, forgetting entirely that Granger was in the room with him. When he finally looked up, he didn't look impressed, exactly - but he was no longer sneering at her. His tone, too, had become nearly polite.

"The notes, if you please?"

[leviohhhhsa]

She felt a rush of surprise- mixed with triumph. Still, she endeavoured not to show either, not wanting to start another argument by being smug when there was work to do.

There was no point in throwing anything else at him, so she scooped up her notes from the desk and handed them over, joining him on the sofa- unaccountably feeling some of the nervousness she always felt when handing over work to a professor...or just someone who knew what they were doing. In this case, it was sort of both, wasn't it? The work she had done was right, she was sure, and she knew it worked in practice, but all the same...

[emptyyourself]

Severus took the notes without comment to her; without the added biases a head of house might feel, or which he might have otherwise held due to her association with Potter, he simply acknowledged her as a know-it-all. It was a trait which came in handy in situations like this. He made no snide remarks as he flipped through the pages.

After a long moment, he glanced at the stick again, then down at the notes, then sighed resignedly. "I can't fault your work."

Not exactly praise, but damned close.

[leviohhhhsa]

She blinked.

"Oh," she said, highly surprised- and then highly pleased, in the way she'd always been over good marks (for want of a better phrase- she was determined to avoid thinking of him as her teacher) and affirmation of her intelligence. "Well, good. Thank you."

After all, she'd be an idiot to expect glowing praise, and she hadn't- honestly, she'd been waiting for corrections delivered in a superior sort of way, but perhaps he'd gotten all that out of his system.

[emptyyourself]

If there were corrections to be made, he hadn't caught them. He was, after all, only a few years her elder, and his area of expertise was potions - not charms. He passed the notes back to her along with the stick, trying to ignore how pleased she seemed that he hadn't torn her work to shreds.

Just what sort of teacher was he?

"We'll begin with a few hexes, then, and work up from there." He glanced around the room, frowning. "Would you prefer to work in here or on the pitch?"

A beat, and he corrected himself. "Field."

[leviohhhhsa]

"Er..." She glanced up at one of the burns on the walls.

"Field, I think. I've fireproofed the exterior walls and protected them against simply magical damage- but I'd rather not bring everything crashing down from inside. Shall we?"

Nevermind the fact that she'd been dueling with Malfoy a few days ago, and their combined efforts had certainly made a start on demolishing part of the stadium regardless of being out in the open air. She'd gone back and repaired things, of course, when she'd felt a little less inclined to cause damage.

She transferred everything to one hand, then whipped out her wand and Apparated without further ado, appearing on the field with a sharp crack.