Chapter 2

                                    

                                          


                          
July 23-August 5
                          
Severus Snape had a temper. Everyone knew that but Hermione was lucky enough to have been spared from it over the years. She had experienced his cruel words. They were like ice that had sliced across her skin but she has never experienced the whirlwind of his anger as he lost control. He has stages of emotions. Most of them were negative and most believe that he doesn't have a heart. No one has seen him happy or laugh. The closest anyone has seen to a smile is when he has a smirk gracing his face. He was normally neutral in his facial expressions. The epitome of control. His movements and words were always precise and well thought of in advance. He spoke in a languid manner. Then when he is upset he will insult others. Normally in a sharp whisper. His words were aggressive and his body tense. But he still reigned in his rage. Keeping it within. Then there was a pure rage. It is easy to see when he was in that state that he could be considered a murderer. He  would snarl and be unrestrained. His voice grew frantic along with his actions. It was if he was a hungry caged beast waiting to pounce and someone just foolishly opened the door. 
                          
But he wasn't a monster. He was just extremely closed off and guarded. You only saw what he wanted you to see. The person he pretends to be. But you could see glimpses behind the shell. The man behind the masks. There were cracks if you knew where to look. He loved potions. That was clear to see. He lived and breathed it. He was a brilliant Potion's master. And that was not only respect but a fact. Teaching might not be his forte but experimenting clearly was. When brewing he didn't need instructions, everything he needed to know was already inside of his head. And from what Hermione could tell he even deviated from the instructions found inside of textbooks with his own personal recipes. Ever since her first year, he never had the students use the instructions found within the textbooks. He always wrote them on the board. Being Hermione she compared and contrasted the recipes. Though potions was not her favourite subject compared to arithmancy and charms she still had enough skill to see why he would make the alterations and their added benefit. It was a testimony to his intelligence. Which is often lost behind his glare. She felt thrilled when she discovered this little secret. He may not like the students but he did still try to teach them and share with them to the best of his knowledge.
                          
The next day it took all of her strength to prevent herself from smiling when she saw the name Polyjuice on her list of potions. It seemed like a victory. A small one at that. Even though it required her to do more work, she couldn't help but feel as though she had a spring in her step from my excitement. She quickly composed her giddiness to ensure avoiding his wrath. It felt like something had given way between them. As if the wall that separated them installed a window to see through to the other side. 
                          
A couple of weeks later and things had improved slightly. He seemed to trust her more by giving her more complicated potions to work on. For the most part, they still worked in silence. But when she was brave enough to ask him a question, he didn't always grunt and snap at her. 
                          
"What are the effects of using a brass cauldron versus a copper one when brewing poison antidotes?"
                          
"How does the memory potion affect victims of the cruciatus?" 
                          
"When someone's injuries affect the bloodstream, is it more effective to use potions or charms?"
                          
She learned a lot about healing from a potion's standpoint during her time with him. It added to her already extensive knowledge of healing charms she learned while in the company of Madam Pomphrey and textbooks. Professor Snape would sometimes even answer her or engage her in conversation himself. But she always had to be careful when she was in his presence. Some days he was like a rabid dog. One wrong move and he will attack. Today was one of those days.