The problem with their search was that Hermione couldn’t remember where she had put the book. Severus met her in the library at midnight every night and together they searched the Restricted Section for that damned book, but they couldn’t find it, even though the Restricted Section was a hundred times smaller than the rest of Hogwarts’ library, which was huge.
“We need more time,” Hermione stated one night. Her sane moments had been reduced to thirty-six minutes by now.
Severus sighed, but he saw that she was right. So he decided to take her along to the library after lessons, when she was mad again, which proved to be rather difficult. She often refused to be taken there, claiming that she had to wash her hair or that she was hindered by Harry’s glasses which were attacking her comb.
The days had gone by and formed weeks and still they hadn’t found anything useful.
One day was a Quidditch day and the whole school was out on the grounds, watching the match. It was a good opportunity to do a long and extensive search in the library, Severus thought. It was calmer and more relaxing if there weren’t always students whispering behind their backs, concocting crackpot stories as to why Severus and Hermione were seen together so often these days.
He finished his French toast and drained his cup of coffee, mentally readying himself for a whole day in mad Hermione’s company.
“Batman!” Hermione screamed at him when he approached her, making Ron snort into his pumkin juice.
“Miss Granger, we’re going to the library today,” he told her calmly, ignoring her greeting.
“But it’s Harry’s big day!” Hermione protested. “I want to see him flying on his broomstick!”
“You can do that at other times. We have more important business to attend to.”
“Uuuh, so you’ve finally decided to buy me the wedding gown?” Hermione piped happily.
“Something of that sort.”
Somehow he managed to lure her to the library without attracting too much attention and without making her scream once, which was a huge improvement, as she now usually got screaming fits whenever she had to go through a door.
“Now, Miss Granger,” he began. “I need you to concentrate. Concentrate on where you put that blasted book.”
Hermione closed her eyes and pranced joyfully on the spot. “Like this?” she asked eagerly.
“Yes. Now concentrate on the book. Tell me where you put it.”
She kept her eyes closed and he waited. Waited, waited, waited, for a long, long time. He had the impression that she had dozed off, and his assumption was quickly affirmed when she started to sway and nearly fell over.
“I can’t see anyone!” she screamed excitedly after Severus had woken her up and told her to concentrate again.
“Is that so indeed?”
”And I can’t hear anyone either!” Hermione went on.
“Then take your fingers out of your ears.”
“What?”
“TAKE YOUR FINGERS OUT OF YOUR EARS!” Severus growled impatiently.
“I can’t hear you.”
Severus growled. “Then I won’t marry you.”
Her eyes flew open and the fingers out of her ears. She looked as though she was on the verge of tears again. “But you promised“”
“I promised nothing,” Severus snarled. At least it worked. “Do you remember now where you put the book?”
“I remember a dream I’ve had this night,” she proclaimed proudly. “We were on our honeymoon and“”
“Something really dreadful must happen before we are on our honeymoon,” Severus remarked icily. “So where is this book now?”
Hermione didn’t answer but strolled off, probably searching for a bridesmaid, Severus mused.
It was much more relaxing to search for the book while Hermione wasn’t near him, but he still couldn’t find it. It was vexing. He was sure he’d searched the Restricted Section three times already but still “The Midnight Book” was nowhere in sight.
He wondered whether that book could be in any other section. He randomly picked books from the shelves “ dusty tomes, tiny booklets and he even spotted a dead toad among the shelves which he quickly slipped into his pocket. He found everything and anything, but no “Midnight Book”.
He had turned into another row of shelves when he was suddenly dazzled by a very strong light. His eyes started to hurt, he wasn’t used to such intense light. That’s the reason, besides the annoying lemon drop offers from Albus, why he preferred his former shadowy seat at the high table.
“For god’s sake, Miss Granger, kill that light!” he barked. A moment later the light was off and Hermione looked at him with big eyes.
“I’m sorry, I didn’t want to make you go blind,” she apologised meekly. “But I thought there was an owl attacking you and I wanted to make it go away.”
“Very thoughtful of you,” he remarked, rolling his eyes.
If she wasn’t proposing their marriage, planning their honeymoon or redecorating his office, Hermione sought out vile creatures that threatened Severus’ existence. So far, she had chased away a mummy that wanted to use the toilet paper of his personal bathroom, a muggle dentist that claimed that Severus urgendly needed a resurrection ceremony, a student who had a question about a Potions essay and a cockroach that wanted to destroy the castle.
At the moment Hermione was building a house of books. Severus thought that this was probably the least dangerous thing she could do, as she had minuted earlier tried to put out a non-existent fire with a flaming spell.
Worst of all was that she always wanted to talk to him. He barely found a silent minute to collect all his thoughts, least of all think them.
Despite all his efforts, Severus couldn’t find the book. He sometimes doubted that it even existed, but a dubious chance of bringing Hermione back to normal was better than no chance at all, so he kept searching.
***** ***** ***** ***** ***** ***** ***** *****
“I see you’ve finally started to care for Miss Granger,” Albus stated that evening at the dinner table, shoving a pile of salad onto his plate, decorating it with a lemon drop.
“So it would seem,” Severus answered tiredly.
Though despite all the circumstances, Severus’ mood had considerably lightened. Hermione was still following him everywhere he went and her classes had been cancelled, so he even had to think of something to busy her for the time he was teaching, but this didn’t dampen his recent success:
He had finally found a way to get rid of the stack of lemon drops in his rooms. Binning them, burning them, cooking them, frying them, nothing had helped, they always came back after some moments, scolding him. He had even tried to throw them into the Great Lake to feed the fish in there, but the drops had been afraid of the Giant Squid and clung to his hands. Not even Hagrid had wanted them. On his way back to the castle with the lemon drops still stuck to his hands he had met Dobby, who was enjoying his free day. He half-heartedly offered the house-elf some drops and found to his delight that the elf took them all. The drops seemed to have sensed the good intentions of the elf because they voluntarily left Severus’ hands and jumped into Dobby’s lap.
He was relieved that he finally had gotten rid of the drops. He was even more relieved to find that Albus had run out of lemon drops.
“No drops offered today?” Severus had asked him at breakfast, sipping his coffee.
Albus seemed to be near breaking point when he told Severus that he had awoken this morning to find a house-elf beside his bedstead. The house-elf had informed him that due to an unlucky accident, all the lemon drops had vanished from Albus’ quarters and there was no reserve left in the kitchens.
This news had dislocated Albus’ whole morning routine. Consequently, he had been badly-tempered at breakfast. Severus could prevent him only in the last minute from putting a hex on a Hufflepuff third-year. He had never heard the Headmaster curse that much before.