Wide Awake and Dreaming

Prologue:

The train slowly rumbled towards Hogwarts, as Hermione Granger bent over her notes, sighing and marking comments in the margins, in her cramped penmanship. She was deeply engrossed, but those who suspected that she was just studying, as usual, would have been disappointed. She had another task on her mind.

The war against Voldemort had taken quite a toll on the Wizarding World. Of course, one of the biggest costs was - well - the cost. Reparations - for widows, children and rebuilding - were costly measures. As such, there was little left for frivolity.

The seventh year students at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry were feeling this strain. Many of their normal social functions had been cancelled, due to a lack of funds in the school budget. For a class of teenagers, who had long lived under the shadow of Voldemort, and were now free, this was unacceptable.

Their complaints had been heard before Winter Break, when the annual dance had been cancelled. As a compromise, a Valentine's Dance for the fifth through seventh years had been planned, with the provision that the sponsoring class found a way to support it. A committee had been formed for that purpose, and Hermione Granger, as Head Girl, had naturally volunteered - or been volunteered (She was never quite sure which was the case when Dumbledore was involved).

Despite her reputation for an overly studious manner, she was in support of the social exercise. She was quite familiar with the muggle idea of stress relief. It had been her idea to hold the auction. Pansy had just wanted to charge everyone for the privilege of attending, and was not happy when Hermione pointed out the flaws in that plan, mainly that every student deserved the right to attend, and not all of them could afford what she was suggesting. However, they were not deterred until Hermione made it personal. With no upfront funds, everything had to be funded out of pocket, with no guarantee of commitment or returns on their investment. An auction was a very lovely idea, indeed.

It was Ginny Weasley who had a stroke of inspiration as to what they should auction. After all, her brothers were Hogsmeade merchants. They and others could be persuaded to offer goods and services for little or no cost. One Hogsmeade weekend, the committee members ambushed several merchants, who ended up good-naturedly supporting them.

Fred and George donated several interesting packages of undisclosed wheezes (to protect the guilty, of course). Rosemerta offered a dinner date for two, at the pub. There were also various other privileges being auctioned, such as breakfast in bed for a week, courtesy of the house elves. All in all, it was shaping up well, and the auction was set for a week from Saturday.

Hermione could hear Ron and Harry returning to the compartment, so she put away her notes and checklists. They would tease her the rest of the way to Hogwarts, if they found her working, and the committee had decided to keep as much of the proceeding as secret as they could.

Everyone knew some things, of course. Flyers had been displayed in the common rooms, before Winter Break, to generate interest and convince students to bring what money they could, for the auction. Much of it would still be a surprise. For all of her chats and lists and plans, even Hermione had no idea how much of a surprise it would be.

Chapter 1

The Great Hall was festively decorated for the evening. Small round tables, seating six to twelve students each, took the place of the normal house tables, not that there was much inter-house seating occurring. With the tablecloths and centerpieces, the light supper was a treat itself, though they still wore their school robes.

On the dais, that normally held the teacher's table, was a small stage, with a podium for the auction. Madame Hooch had agreed to play auctioneer, with her sharp eye and strong voice. Luckily, they had talked the headmaster out of officiating. He would be making the opening announcement, instead.

He stood before them now and cleared his throat. "Welcome. This has been a rather uneventful year, as yet. Pleasant as though that may be to these old ears, I have been informed that it has been rather too uneventful for some of you. So, we have this evening and the upcoming Valentine's Ball to look forward to. The members of your planning committee have been very busy."

Hermione blushed as Ron nudged her and hooted, clapping along with the rest of the students.

Dumbledore raised his arm, and then continued again, "In light of all of your hard work, there is an added bonus to tonight's schedule." His eyes twinkled, as he paused and smiled at the students. "Each of your teachers has agreed to donate no less than three hours of their time and the skill of their choice. You will have the opportunity to bid on them, tonight."

This caused a loud reaction among the students, as they took in this information. They looked around the room at the teachers and talked amongst themselves.

Dumbledore stepped back and Madame Hooch stepped up to the podium. She cast the sonorous charm on herself and reached into the bin beside her and drew a card. "Let us begin. The first item up for bid is an evening for two in Hogsmeade. We'll begin with two sickles..."

The bidding went well, and Hermione was pleased. The atmosphere was friendly and the bidding wars encouraged with good nature. Everyone was behaving themselves, even the Slytherins, who seemed content not to spread their occasionally venomous remarks beyond their own tables. They were just now moving onto the professors and they had already outstripped her conservative estimate.

Madame Hooch opened for the professors, since she was already on-stage. She was offering a Sunday afternoon on the Quidditch pitch, with training, an open game with choice of players and positions, or a one-on-one seeker battle against herself. Quidditch being what it was amongst the teens, the bidding was fierce. Neither Harry nor Ron bid long on it, but Ginny was very interested and was one of the final three in contention. When it became obvious that she would be disappointed, Harry quietly slid her several galleons. He was once again her hero, as she won the lot.

Dumbledore was next, his eyes twinkling in excitement, as he offered an afternoon of tea and Wizard's Chess. This peaked Ron's interest, but he had already spent most of his allowance on earlier bids. Harry looked sheepishly at him, but Ron shrugged good-naturedly, when it went to a Ravenclaw fifth year. Hermione reminded him that he could still ask Dumbledore to play the next time they were all at Grimmold Place. He brightened up at that.

So it went, each of the professors getting good results, despite the initial wariness of the students to bid on spending time with the adults. Then it was Professor Snape's turn. He barely spoke, other than to say that he would offer three hours of potions tutoring at the time of his convenience. He stood stiffly and glared at the students, as if daring them to bid on his time.

The room was eerily silent, not even the Slytherins spoke up for their Head of House. Draco just smirked condescendingly, and whispered to his tablemates. Hermione could not believe that no one was going to bid. Finally, as Madame Hooch began to look uncomfortable, she spoke up.

"Three galleons." Several gasps were heard, including several from her own table. It was a fair bid, but unheard of as an opening gambit.

Ron elbowed her and hissed, "Are you mad?"

She just shrugged and the bid was accepted. Snape looked at her intensely, before inclining his head in acknowledgement and stalking off the stage.

Madame Hooch quickly stepped up and announced the auction complete. She cast the Quietus spell. Dumbledore took her place and congratulated them. He gave them the details for completing their transactions and announced that they had thirty minutes until curfew.

Hermione made her way over to one of the tables where Professor McGonagall was acting as purser, and settled her winnings. It seemed she had bought herself a Snape.

Chapter 2

Hermione was unsure about how to approach Professor Snape about the results of the action, and had several days to muse over the problem. When he said nothing to her during Potions on Monday, or again on Wednesday, she realized that she would have to approach him about the subject. When class ended on Friday, she sent Ron and Harry ahead to History of Magic and waited to talk to Professor Snape.

He was not pleased to see her lingering in his classroom, when he looked up from the essays he was gathering on his desk. "Yes?"

"Sir, I would like to know when you would be able to fulfill the terms of the auction?"

"I am a very busy man, Miss Granger."

"Yes, Sir."

He clearly thought that was the end of the conversation, but she continued to stand there silently. Finally, he sighed. "I am free tomorrow afternoon at one o'clock. I will, however, not wait for you, if you are tardy. Understand?"

"Yes, Sir. I will be here."

He nodded his head and walked passed her to his office. She hurried to her next class.

The next day she hurried through lunch, and made her way to the dungeons. At two minutes before the appointed hour she knocked on the open classroom door. Snape was standing at one of the long tables at the far end of the room working over a steaming cauldron. He bade her enter then cast a stasis charm over his work.

"What do you want, Miss Granger."

"Sir?"

"It was a simple enough question. Surely, a know-it-all like yourself must have an answer."

"I am here because of the auction. I paid for three hours of Potions tutoring."

"I am aware of that, Miss Granger; however, as you are the last student in need of tutoring in potions, I assume that your bid was offered for other motives."

Her face was flushed at the unintentional compliment, "Yes, Sir, I mean no." She scrunched her face up to stop her babbling and try to compose her thoughts. She took a deep breath and continued, "No, I do not require tutoring, but I don't have any other motives. I am interested in potions." Her face was still flushed, and her inner voice screamed, "Liar!" It sounded lame, even to her. She was interested in potions, but she couldn't exactly tell him that she bid on him because no one else would. It had been pretty obvious.

Apparently, so was she, because his next remark assured her that he held no illusions. "Heaven forbid, when you cross the sentimentality of a Hufflepuff, with the blind stupidity of a Gryffindor.

"Thank you, Miss Granger. You have done your duty. You can leave now. I am sure that we both have better things to do on a Saturday afternoon."

"No, Sir."

He looked back at her sharply, clearly not expecting to be contradicted. "Well, pity. I am sure that I do. Run along."

"I meant, no, Sir, regardless of my motivations, I did purchase three hours of your time. I expect that you should honor that."

His eyes narrowed and darkened at her words. "And what, pray tell, would you know about honor, Miss Granger?"

"Never the less, Professor, you owe me three hours of Potions tutoring."

He stared at her for several long moments. "Very well, Miss Granger, I assume that you have come prepared. Get out your book and some parchment. Let's begin."

They continued in that manner and that tone for some time. Hermione was getting more frustrated by the minute. When he, once again, questioned her at length over a point that they both knew she well understood she gave up.

"This isn't tutoring. This is like class, or detention." Hermione sighed. "Can we talk?"

"Talk? What on earth would we have to talk about, Miss Granger?"

Hermione, however, was a bit more prepared for this, and bent over to open her knapsack. She began rooting through her things and pulling out various articles and scrolls. Holding one up, she smiled brightly and turned to Snape. "I found this article on the detoxification of Belladonna preparations, but there were also several rather unpopular points made as to the fact that there were several safer alternatives for substitution instead. I was wondering - since the processes described already weakens the overall effectiveness of the preparations, what difference would it make to use a less effective, but safer alternative?"

She tried to pass him the article, but he held up his hand in a halting manner. "I am familiar with the article, Miss Granger."

He began to speak, and the time passed rather more quickly after that.

Chapter 3

Hermione was sitting in the common room a few days later, contemplating her conversation with Professor Snape. He was quite insightful, even beyond the theories and mechanics of his profession. She had expected condescension and a lecture, if he had even accepted her overture for conversation. True, there had been some of that in the beginning. He didn't berate her know-it-all tendencies - much - beyond suggesting that she should have plenty of work to do for her classes that she shouldn't have to go looking for more. However, he was surprisingly passionate about his subject and seemed to welcome the discourse. He relaxed a bit, when met with her obvious enthusiasm and knowledge.

After a bit, he had prepared tea for them, while expanding on a theory of sympathetic magic in potions preparation. It was sort of enthralling to watch his nimble movements and precision in even the most mundane of tasks. It was almost difficult to reconcile her companion with the domineering professor who ruled her classroom hours. While she knew that professors had lives and identities beyond that of her instructor, it was weird to personally experience the dichotomy.

Harry and Ron surely wouldn't understand. She hadn't even bothered to try to explain it to them when they questioned her after dinner on Saturday. They had acted sympathetic and made derogatory remarks about spending extra-curricular time in the company of their 'greasy git' of a potions master. Her defense that it hadn't been so bad was met with disbelief and questions about her mental health.

The idea that she might like to repeat the experience was beyond their realm of comprehension. As such, she chose not to share it with them. She was considering it, though. She had no idea of how Professor Snape would take the suggestion, and there was no one to discuss it with. She would just have to gather her Gryffindor courage and take a chance.

It was with that thought in mind that she knocked on the door to Professor Snape's office the next afternoon. As he tersely bade her, "Enter," she straightened her posture and took a deep breath before pushing open the door. "Here goes nothing," she thought.

"Miss Granger, to what do I owe this interruption?"

"Sorry, Professor Snape. I was wondering if we could schedule a time to discuss another article that I found."

"Miss Granger, if you are having trouble comprehending your extra-curricular reading materials, them perhaps you should not be wasting your time in such a manner."

"No, Sir. That's not what I meant."

"Then perhaps you should say what you mean. Despite my talents, I do not make it a habit to be a mind reader."

"I enjoyed our conversation last weekend and would like to do it again."

"Last weekend was an obligation. It has since been fulfilled. I do not make it a habit to socialize with students, Miss Granger, particularly ones not of my house."

"Yes, Sir." Hermione tried to hide her disappointment, but failed. She tried to think of what she could say to convince him. Her forehead wrinkled and she frowned, her lips pursed slightly in frustration.

He rolled his eyes at her display. "Miss Granger, if you are determined to make a nuisance of yourself, you may return Thursday evening after dinner. I will be brewing potions for Madame Pomfrey. You may assist."

"Thank you, Professor Snape." A smile lit her face.

"Good day, Miss Granger." He dismissed her and turned back to his work. She quickly fled before he could change his mind.

Wednesday night, she was in quite a state, gathering the materials that she wished to discuss and reviewing some of the potions that she knew Madame Pomfrey used in the infirmary. She knew that he would not be patient, if she were unprepared. While he had not yet been the ogre that he could be in class, it was obvious that he had little patience for incompetence.

She made it through Thursday, mainly because she was learning new theories in Transfiguration and Arithmancy and had little time to concentrate on anything else. However, by dinner, her stomach was in knots and she could barely eat her dinner.

When she saw Professor Snape leaving the dining hall, she quickly made her excuses to Harry and Ron, who were luckily embroiled in a discussion about Quidditch and didn't notice to question her. She gathered her things and made her way to the dungeons.

When she entered, she found him already setting up a couple of cauldrons and gathering supplies. He merely nodded to acknowledge her presence, as she settled her things and tied her hair back, out of her face. When she approached him and said, "Good Evening," he grunted in response.

"We are making a large batch of pepper-up and a general flu preparation; the formulas are on the table. Prepare the ingredients that I have marked. I trust that you are capable of doing so."

"Yes, Sir." She started by grating the willow bark. A large quantity was needed for both. "A large number of muggles are allergic to aspirin, a chemical similar to this. Do you have that problem with wizards? How do you deal with allergies and such?

"Miss Granger, must you chatter all of the time? I am not a medi-witch. However, you will find very few 'allergies' among wizards. It is possible that it has to do with the magical intent of the potions, as much as anything else. However, in the case of poisonings, or negative reactions, there is a protocol to follow, according to the substance in question. There are also alternative treatments, though less popular, much like the discussion we had previously."

"Hmm," She acknowledged the answer, but held her tongue and concentrated on her work. She saw that he was reaching a delicate stage of his potion, and knew that he would not welcome idle banter.

They worked in companionable silence, until the potions were both simmering. Thankfully, it was he who brought up the reason for her presence. "I believe that you had another article that you wished to discuss, Miss Granger."

"Yes, Professor." She walked over to her things to retrieve the articles she had gathered. "I was reading about the alchemical properties of silver preparations, for use in healing serums and...."

They talked as they prepared bottles and vials for the potions, and the conversation flowed to several other topics while they did the bottling. After they had cleaned up the workspace and stored the leftover ingredients, he turned to her and handed her a book on medicinal potions.

Sternly, he told her. "Here. I expect this to be returned in the same condition in which you are receiving it. If you are going to insist on these 'conversations,' they should at least be worthwhile. You may return next Thursday, to assist me again. I expect you to be prepared, or do not waste my time.

"I suppose that if you are here, making yourself useful, you will not be elsewhere getting into mischief with Potter and Weasley."

"Yes, Sir. Thank you, Professor Snape."

"Good night, Miss Granger."

"Good night, Professor Snape." She returned to the common room with a smile, but refused to analyze why she was so happy that he had invited her back.

Chapter 4

For the next several weeks, the meetings became routine for them. Hermione's workload increased, as she rushed through her homework to have time to scour different journals and periodicals and to read the books and journals Professor Snape pressed on her each week. Despite the additional burden, she was quite happy and enjoyed the challenge to her mind. She looked forward to the weekly sessions, in a way that she used to approach her classes.

That is why it was disappointing to show up one Thursday and find the classroom dark and Professor Snape not in attendance. She was unsure what to do, and so she slid to the floor and pulled out a book to read while she waited. She was still there a while later when the headmaster came upon her, startling her.

"Good Evening, Miss Granger."

"Hello, Headmaster," she smiled and rose to her feet. "I was just waiting for Professor Snape. I was, I mean, I have been...."

The headmaster waved away her explanations. "Yes, Miss Granger. I am aware of how you have been spending your evenings. I am afraid that you will have to make alternate plans for tonight, however. Professor Snape is unable to join you this evening. He has been otherwise detained."

"Oh," she said with disappointment. "I didn't know." She gave him a wan smile and gathered her things. "I hope... umm, tell him... never mind. Thank you, for letting me know, Sir."

"Not at all, Miss Granger. You should be moving along, now. It is getting late."

"Yes, Sir, Good Night."

"Good Night, Miss Granger."

Hermione was puzzled, but tried (unsuccessfully) not to dwell on it. Of course, he would have other things to do. She was lucky their plans had continued as they had. She did regret missing their session, though. She had come to quite look forward to their time. She resolved to not worry on it any more.

That resolve was much tested when she showed up to Potions, the next morning, to find Headmaster Dumbledore in attendance, instead of Professor Snape. She could not question him in front of the class, but she could feel his knowing eyes on her, from time to time. She prepared the Fremanellan Potion with the rest of the class, and assisted Neville the best that she could, since Professor Snape was not there to take points. However, she felt quite unsettled by his continued absence.

The next day was a Hogsmeade visit, but she begged off from attending with Harry and Ron, much to their chagrin. They assumed that she was obsessed with studying for NEWTS, and she did not disabuse them of that notion. Instead, she waited for everyone to depart, and made her way to the dungeons.

She knocked on the door to Professor Snape's off ice and heard him bark at her to, Come in."

"Miss Granger, what are you doing here? I assumed you would have availed yourself of the opportunity to go gallivanting with your classmates." He sounded even more surly than usual.

"No, Sir. I was going to do some studying. I was worried about you."

His hands shook as he set his teacup on its saucer. "I assure you, Miss Granger, that my welfare is none of your concern."

"Yes, Sir. It's just... are you alright?" She noticed the tremors in his hands, and the dark circles under his eyes. His skin was even more sallow than usual, if that were possible.

"I don't owe you any explanations, as to where or how I spend my time, Miss Granger. You are intruding, where you are not welcome. I did not ask for your concern, nor is it welcome. I am not one of your classmates, which you insist on mothering. It would behoove you to remember that I am your professor, and not your concern.

"You are dismissed. I advise you to find better uses for your time, than questioning me, about mine."

"Yes, Sir. Good... good afternoon." She ran out of the room and back to Gryffindor, where she flung herself onto her bed and cried, until she fell into an uneasy sleep.