Chapter XI

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[AN: Here's me with another chapter! I hope that you all don't find the updates are way too often; it's just that I have the chapters ready and I'm excited for you to read them. I'm sorry (but really I'm not)]

'Tis a secret: none knows how it comes, how it goes;
But the name of the secret is Love!
- Lewis Carroll (A Song of Love)
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Snape had remained quite- well, quiter than usual- since that day after hearing the Chinese story. Hermione didn't feel that she did anything to vex him, otherwise he would have let it be known. She handed him things before he could ask for it and they shared glances and nods of acknowledgement; she made tea in the afternoons and gave him a cup always; he talked with her about somethings and on rare occasions, even graced her with a smile.

"What is it that you like to do?" He once asked her, "I mean, what do you normally do? What would you be doing if you were not stuck here?"

I'm not stuck here, she wanted to say. "Well.." she thought, "At first, it was just school and home, going to the movies once in a while, occasional visit to my gran's house- my family doesn't extend much. And now, before I was working here, it was basically idling around at home, with my books and my computer and my music...and that's about it."

"What about...oh, I don't know, all the sorts of things youngsters do these days? Like partying and sports-"

"Do I really look like the 'partying' type?" Hermione shook her head, disbelieving, "And I have really poor hand-eye coordination. That's the primary reason I wasn't into Quidditch."

"That I can agree to." He smirked.

"You're thinking, I'm no fun, right?"

"No. I never thought anyone's life could be as dull as mine."

Hermione hadn't really thought about it and she didn't reply. He took another sip of tea and asked, "Have you ever considered getting into the culinary business?"

"Now you're mocking me." Hermione blushed. He smirked but he didn't contradict.

After that conversation that evening, Hermione thought he was back to normal, but another morning, he was his surly self again. She guessed it to be one of his mood swings and carried out his every instruction carefully, lest he found a reason to vocalise his temper.

They were handling a moderately difficult potion that day and he spouted out the steps to be followed, before striding back into his bedroom. After carrying out all his orders, Hermione let the potion simmer; but the potion fumes were turning her hair bushy again; the contents of the entire bottle of her shampoo was ruined, so although her hair was back to normal now, it still didn't sit smoothly and right then, she was in desperate need for a clutcher or a scrunchie.

But she dare not saunter off to her room leaving the potion unattended, if she didn't want a repetition of the 'cauldron-melting' incident. So she merely slunk over to Snape's desk, to seek something that would temporarily keep her hair up.

She wasn't silly enough to hope to be able to find a hair tie or any such girly hair accessory but maybe a pencil to stick into her bun, but unfortunately, the wizarding community didn't use pens or pencils.

Hermione opened the many drawers and side-shelves but couldn't find anything, however, she found a secret liquor-cabinet stocked with bottles and there, tugged at a corner was a dazzling occamy egg-shell hair comb.

She took it out and admired it, wondering why it was hidden away there and who could it belong to. It was so elegant and pretty that she bit her lip, hesitant to tarnish it's resplendency by using it in her hair, but when she heard the potion bubbling sporadically, she quickly rolled up her hair and stuck the comb in it, holding it in place, while she rushed back to turn the burner down.

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