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Snape/Hermione update :)
Yes, was able to beat up my muses and force them to co-operate for a little while, at least!
To read part one, click here
Note #2: To the anonymous reviewer on fanfiction.net for chapter one. Really wish you'd left an email address, but either way, this chapter addresses the issues you had relating to Hermione's appointment as a teacher. The start of this chapter was written before I posted chapter one, and was always intended to relate to the problems of her becoming a teacher. The main reason they are not in chapter one is that I felt it was too much all at once. So, to all readers who may have issues with her being accepted so readily, this should ease your worries.
~x~x~x~x~x~
Part Two: To Live and to Learn
~x~x~x~x~x~
Hermione sighed and rolled over, glancing at the digital clock by her bed. It was four thirty in the morning and yet sleep was evading her. Perhaps due to the fact that she had fallen into bed around ten o'clock and instantly fallen into a dreamless sleep.
Dumbledore's news had not come as a complete surprise, which in itself, she conceded, should have been reason enough for shock to hit her. The only thing that seemed to be clear, the only fact that she was concentrating on was that her headmaster had not only lied to her, but he had manipulated her.
She was by no means under the impression that Dumbledore was perfect and omnipotent, but she had always granted him the courtesy of assuming that he knew what to do for the best, despite is lack of truthfulness to Harry in their fifth year. It seemed now that she was wrong. While Dumbledore clearly stood by his decision and still believed it to have been for the best, Hermione had fumed in silence, not really trusting herself to speak much for the rest of the meeting. Snape, to his credit, had remained quiet and his face, while not friendly, or sympathetic in the least, had not been sending cursory glares in her direction.
With her thoughts once more in disarray, Hermione realised that attempting sleep again was futile, and rolled out of bed, pulling on her night-gown to ward off the persistent cold of the castle. It was not yet late enough for the house-elves to have started her fire, and she could almost see her breath as she padded into the bathroom.
Deciding that now was as good a time as any to indulge in the bubble bath she had promised herself on arrival, she turned on the taps and added a generous amount of the lavender scented aromatherapy bubble bath Linda had given her as part of her last birthday present. She rarely got the chance to use it, but she loved the scent. The smell filled the air instantly, and Hermione smiled as the steam warmed her considerably, stripping off and entering the tub.
She could feel the water coursing around her, a little too hot perhaps, but she didn't care. She had always, for as long as she could remember, loved to get into the bath before she stopped running the water. There was something about the feel of it rushing by her and heating her up on cold mornings, that she had never been able to explain, but she loved it none the less.
Before the water got too deep, and the bubbles got out of hand, Hermione stopped the taps with a flick of her wrist and settled back, allowing the steam and the smell to relax her in a way that her sleep had not. She closed her eyes and refused to let her thoughts drag her into more melancholy hypotheses, and instead focussed on what exactly she was going to tell Ron and Harry that night.
While she had no misconceptions as to how hard it would be to make the transition to teacher, she knew that her hope about her friends' reactions was entirely based on wishful thinking. She knew Ron and Harry like the back of her hands, and she also knew Ginny fairly well. Where they would all likely be delighted for her, although hurt that she had hid it from them, the thing she was most worried about was the way they would treat her now. And she had the feeling that they would try to treat her exactly the same way they always had, and she knew that that was not an option.
After the staff meeting the night before, Charlie Weasley had arrived at her rooms with a smile and a hug, congratulating her on her successes, but the resulting conversation had been a bit of an leveller. While Charlie was relatively new to the position, he had arrived the previous year. It had been a dream come true for Ron to have one of his brothers in the school, there to cheer him on in his Quidditch matches and help when he needed it. However, what her friend had failed to realise, was that Charlie would be treating him in exactly the same way he treated all the students.
The resulting row had been long and had taken a long time to resolve, before Ron had finally conceded that Charlie couldn't show favouritism to him. But the rift had taken time to heal, and that was what Charlie had wanted to talk about. Ron.
Harry, while she knew he would find it hard, would be unlikely to react that badly to her new position of authority over him, but Ron would, undeniably try to treat her the same way he always had. And when the truth bit him, she had the feeling she would be on the receiving end of the Weasley temper. It certainly wouldn't help that they had tentatively attempted to start a romantic involvement at the start of the holidays before her parents had been killed. And while that had been the deciding factor, Hermione knew that there would never have been anything lasting between them. She only hoped that Ron had reached that conclusion as well. The last thing she needed was to add student/teacher relationships to her 'Issues I'll Have This Year' box.
By the time she had stopped addressing her thoughts, Hermione realised that, not only was the water cold, but her skin was wrinkled and the small noises coming from her room were from the fire. Evidently the house-elves were up and about, and that meant that the morning was approaching.
Hermione quickly dried and dressed, opting for a quick drying spell before she attempted to tackle her hair. It was one thing to complain about having to sit still while someone else fixed it, but actually doing it for herself had proven to be worse. No matter how hard she tried, it still took her at least twenty minutes after applying the lotions to achieve the desired look that the hairdresser had taken less than five to perfect. At lest it was shorter than it had been, and there was less of it to tame.
While she had spent money on makeup, she doubted she would ever go through the rigorous routine of applying everything on a daily basis. She had opted for moisturising her skin and adding a little foundation, some mascara and eyeliner, and a little lip-gloss. While there seemed to be no reason for her to do so, and she had always seen it as a pointless act, she somehow appreciated the different feel it gave her to wear makeup. A little like when she was wearing heels (which admittedly wasn't often) she felt her hips automatically swaying, when she wore makeup and straightened her hair, she found she was given that slight bit more confidence to both keep her head up, and in her attitude in general. She really saw little other explanation to her reactions to Snape the previous evening.
Whatever possessed me to speak to him like that? she wondered idly, and with slightly more awe and amusement than was really wise where the Potions Master was concerned. I half expected him to take house points, and if him grinding his teeth was any indication, he wanted to do just that. I can't believe I called him Severus!
She was still unsure of why Minerva seemed to have such a close relationship with the man, when it had always been blatantly obvious that the two hated each other. Yet, over the last year, during her training for her Apparition exam, and her advanced schooling, her time with Minerva had shown that the Professors perhaps got on a little better than they let everyone believe.
Not willing herself to be swept up in speculation any longer, Hermione took one last, satisfied look at herself in the mirror, and left her rooms. She instantly headed for her place of sanctuary, and entered the library a few minutes later.
That's one thing to be said for the location of my new rooms, she thought with a smile. I won't have to worry about getting to the library in a hurry, it's right round the corner.
Still a little cautious, despite the fact that her new station in the school gave her the right to be there, Hermione gave a glance around the room, checking to see if Madam Pince was present. Finding no sign of the woman, Hermione made her way to the section at the far wall, remembering the book she had found her previous information in. She searched for a few moments before finding it, and settled into the large armchair by the window, opening the book to the page on magical anomalies.
Not quite sure she appreciated being categorised as a 'magical anomaly', Hermione began to read about Hermanté, but quickly found that she had previously read everything that particular book had to offer. She spent the next few hours searching through all the books she thought might be helpful, and even some that she knew would not be, hoping, in vain, to find something.
A grumble in her stomach was the first thing that alerted her to the fact that she had spent a long time in the library, and a glance out of the window informed her that she had been correct in her assessment. She let out a defeated sigh and placed the books she was currently holding back in their original place.
Resigning herself to returning later, she left the library and made her way to the Great Hall, in the hopes that it wasn't still too early (or even too late) for her to get some breakfast. Hearing some voices, she slowed her swift walk, and identified three of the Professors in a heated discussion. She wasn't sure that she wanted to eaves drop, but neither did she want to burst past them, and it was the only way to get the Great Hall without a large detour.
She identified the speakers as Sinistra, Sprout and Hooch. Deciding to chance her luck and pass them by, Hermione began to walk again, only stopping when she heard her name. She froze. And while she didn't want to listen to what they might say, she was filled with an insatiable curiosity.
"…can't understand it."
"It's out of order, is what it is," she heard Hooch saying in a rather angry tone. "She has no right to be here."
"Hermione Granger is an incredibly talented witch," Seriya spoke in her defence. "She's an intelligent and wise child."
"Exactly!" Sprout exclaimed. "She's a child. She has no right to be here without proper study and life experience. She should be back in the classroom as a student this year, finishing off her studies and her childhood at the normal rate. She's not old enough to be treated as an adult yet."
"Precisely," Hooch continued, and Hermione would have fled by that point if her feet had been co-operating, as it was, she was desperately trying to remember how to breathe in order to stop herself from bursting into tears. "I'm not denying the girl has talent and intelligence, Seriya, despite her questionable ability with a broomstick, but Albus has clearly gone mad if he expects us to accept her as an adult and a colleague."
"And if this is our reaction, just imagine what she will receive from the student body."
"While I don't doubt it will be difficult, Pomona, I think Miss Granger is here for a reason. She clearly has the intelligence to be here, and I think she's strong enough to get past the treatment of her peers."
"I wish I could agree, Seriya, but I can't."
At Sprout's final statement, Hermione swivelled on the balls of her feet, intending to head directly back to her rooms for a good cry. Unfortunately she walked squarely into a rather hard chest and was sent sprawling to the floor.
"Professor Granger, it would be wise to attempt to retain a little grace now that you are a teacher," Snape sneered at her. She was aware that he seemed to have spoken rather loudly, and the scuffling of feet coming from the direction the other professors had been, confirmed that.
Hermione scrambled to her feet and dusted off her robes. "My apologies, Professor, I was a little distracted."
"Indeed."
Snape didn't wait for anything further, instead continuing his quick stride in the direction of the Great Hall, and Hermione decided that, having been spotted already, it would be wise for her to follow. Despite his predictable reaction to her, she had seen the acknowledgement in his eyes. While unsure of how long he had been standing behind her, she knew that he had heard the conversation that was taking place, or at least some of it, and that implied that his wording and volume had been chosen for a specific purpose. However, at that moment in time, she refused to analyse anything further. Not Snape, not Seriya, Hooch or Sprout. She wanted to blank her mind and pretend that everything was all right.
When she entered the hall, she discovered, to her dismay, that the table was set as it was during most holidays; in other words, it was set in such a way that, instead of sitting in a long row next to each other, those present sat around a table. And as Hermione got closer to the table, she quickly assessed that the only space left, while between Minerva and Seriya, was opposite Hooch, Sprout and Snape. Not a choice she would have made herself, but she refused to acknowledge that she had heard anything, and sat down, instantly filling up her plate.
"Good morning, Hermione," Minerva greeted with a smile, and she tried to return it as best she could. The other professor frowned slightly, but didn't question her, instead sticking to the mundane. "Did you sleep well?"
"Not really," Hermione answered truthfully. "I think I went to bed too early, I've been up since about four." Minerva grimaced and Hermione gave a slight chuckle, remembering how her early morning tutoring sessions had usually begun; coffee, cursing and the occasional clipped comment. Minerva was most definitely not a morning person.
"Well, you'll get into a routine when the students arrive, I'm sure. It's gruelling work, but you'll handle it but you'll want to spend all morning in your bed just to escape sometimes."
Hermione smiled, and couldn't help glancing across the table at that moment. Where Sprout looked embarrassed and refused to meet her gaze, Hooch was regarding her with a frown. She wasn't quite sure what to make of it, so she shifted her gaze to Seriya, hoping to engage the woman in conversation. While Seriya had been involved in the earlier dispute that Hermione had overheard, she had been defending her, and Hermione wanted to let the woman know that she appreciated that, even if she refused to acknowledge that it had happened at all.
"How is the project coming along?" she asked, breaking the Astronomy teacher's' silent reverie.
The woman smiled, almost apologetically before she answered. "Slowly. I'm still not sure that it's my wisest decision, but Firenze assured me that he would guarantee our protection during the excursions."
Hermione smiled wistfully. "I'm rather sad I'll miss out on it."
"You're more than welcome, Hermione," Seriya said with a wide grin. "It might even be helpful to have an extra professor along, given the teenage tendency to wander off into danger. Some teenagers in particular," she finished with a laugh.
Hermione smiled, knowing that exactly what teenagers she was referring to. She was glad no one had interrupted with the obvious statement that Hermione herself was still a teenager, as she wasn't sure that she could handle it after what she had just overheard, but she saw a flicker in Hooch's eyes, and even Snape quirked an eyebrow. Although, to be honest, Snape seemed more amused than anything else, which surprised her. Humour wasn't something she had ever really associated with Snape, and yet she was convinced that was precisely the case. Sardonic humour, without a doubt, and she would have expected nothing less from the man with the reputation for eating small children in his spare time, but it was definitely there.
Turning her attention away from the potions master, she realised that she had been addressed, and turned to Dumbledore a little surprised. "I'm sorry, professor, I was miles away."
Dumbledore smiled and nodded. "Of course. I was wondering if you required any help with the classroom, as now would, without doubt, be the best time to enlist it."
"I'm not really sure," Hermione began, "I hadn't really thought to explore it yet. I think I'll take a look this afternoon and decide what needs to be done."
"Of course."
Madam Pince nodded at her, motioning that she had something to say, but clearly not wanting to do so through a mouthful of bacon and scrambled egg. Hermione smiled and waited for the woman to finish eating.
"Sorry," Pince began with a smile. "I just wanted to let you know that the books you requested should arrive either this afternoon or tomorrow morning."
"Excellent!" Hermione felt her spirits rising. If there was one thing that always served to cheer her up, a new book was definitely it. "I was hoping they would arrive before the term began, I want to start with them."
"Surely you don't expect the entire school to share one copy of each book?" Madam Pince interrupted.
"Of course not!" Hermione said with a smile, refusing to react to the fact that her conversation was garnering most of the attention of the table. "The three books I ordered are much too comprehensive for any of the younger classes, and I only wish to teach certain aspects to the advanced class. While they might come in useful for some of the projects, I doubt there will be a rush to borrow them."
Minerva chuckled. "Unless of course they decide to take after yourself you mean."
Hermione raised her eyebrows. "I highly doubt it," she said at the same time Snape muttered, "I certainly hope not."
She glanced at him and was sure she detected the same trace of humour in his eyes. She laughed in spite of herself and that was clearly not the expected response. Snape's eyebrows rose slightly, Seriya didn't seem sure how to react, Pince looked as though she thought Hermione had gone mad, and Hooch looked outright shocked.
She didn't comment any further, instead setting on her breakfast with a speed she usually only associated with Ron. She hadn't realised she was that hungry, but her stomach new best and she followed its orders.
She wolfed down her breakfast and quickly dismissed herself, leaving before anyone, including Snape, had cleared their plates. She made her way back to her rooms, pushing all thoughts of the opinions of her colleagues to the back of her mind, along with those of Hermanté, and quickly changed into a pair of old jeans and a faded Elvis Presley T-shirt that had belonged to her father.
Hermione clearly remembered the dusty classroom she had spent a lot of her time in since her third year, and if there was one thing she wanted to change, it was that. There was nothing she could think of that would annoy her more than teaching in a stuffy classroom filled with dirt and dust. Well, she conceded, there were a few things, but they were all clearly labelled, 'Do Not Think About Until Later', so she did just that.
Making her way through Hogwarts corridors, Hermione reached her classroom after only a five-minute walk, and was instantly grateful that her rooms were closer than Gryffindor tower had ever been. That walk was certainly something she would not miss.
She flicked her wand and muttered 'Lumos', disheartened by the fact that the room seemed even worse than she remembered it. The windows were filthy, hence why she had had to light her wand despite the fact that it was not even noon yet; the floor and shelves were covered in a layer of dust that was so visible it was causing her nose to itch just by looking at it; and there were an abundance of cobwebs covering the walls, and completely obscuring the ceiling. It was, in short, a complete mess, and Hermione was not looking forward to tackling it.
"Should have taken that offer of enlisting help," she muttered to herself, knowing that while it made sense, the idea of asking for help was not appealing. After realising that there were fewer people on her side that she had originally thought, she knew she would have to work harder in order to prove herself.
"Not that you haven't spent your whole life doing that already," she said with a sigh.
"Talking to yourself, Professor?"
The sarcastic voice penetrated her thoughts and she jumped a little as she turned to face Professor Snape. He was standing in her doorway glancing around the room with an obvious air of displeasure, and Hermione could hardly blame him. She didn't much want to look at it herself.
"Lovely, isn't it?" she said sarcastically, and Snape's mouth twitched a little. She sighed and turned around in a circle. "It shouldn't take that long, I guess, a few days maybe. I have no idea how it managed to get this bad."
"Simple," Snape said, as if that one word should clarify everything. When Hermione looked at him and raised her eyebrows, however, he continued. "The House Elves will not come near this place, as instructed by the previous owner."
"Professor Vector told them not to tidy this place?" Hermione asked incredulously.
"John-Paul Vector was not a particularly tidy man. His knowledge of Arithmancy was limited at best, and his lack of personal hygiene and tidiness was an aggravation to the entire staff."
While the immature part of Hermione that rested deep within her (her inner Ron, she preferred to think of it) desperately wanted to comment on Snape's own seeming lack of hygiene, she held her tongue. There was just something in the way Snape had seemed to be disgusted by Vector's personal standards that made Hermione think that perhaps his own were impeccable, despite the evidence to the contrary.
As for the comment on Vector's ability with Arithmancy, she had no intention of standing up for the man that had willingly joined Voldemort's ranks. Despite her admiration for Vector's arithmancy skills, she knew what Snape was talking about. Vector had very clear lines and structures within his classes and his knowledge, and the idea of links between arithmancy and anything, let alone potions, was something he would not concede.
"Well, either way, it's my problem now."
"Then I shall not detain you any longer."
Snape turned to exit, and Hermione frowned. He was holding something in his hand, but his robes made it difficult for her to make out what it was. "Was there anything you wanted, Professor?" she asked, aware that, although their classrooms were close, he was a little out of his way. "If there was something you needed, I'm sure I can handle leaving this alone for as long as possible."
Snape turned to face her again, a smirk on his lips. "As sure as I am that you would rather not tackle this particular problem, Professor, I think that, perhaps it would be best to start as soon as possible." Snape took a few steps closer and held out the object. "This book is from my private collection, it is a rare edition, and would be rather difficult for you to find. It would be wise for you to read it."
Hermione frowned and took the book, squinting in the low light in order to read the title. She smiled as the gold swirls focussed and the words, Hermanté: An Inside Study of the Gifted Few. The diary of Hermanté and her successors, became visible.
"Thank you, Professor," she breathed. She looked up at Snape with a large smile and nodded her head a little. "I spent this morning perusing the library with no success, this is exactly what I was looking for."
Snape nodded and offered a slight twitch to his mouth which, Hermione assumed, was supposed to be a smile. She looked back down at the book and prepared to open it when it was snatched from her grasp.
"The reason, Professor Granger, that I was taking the book with me when I left was that I don't believe you should be distracted from your current task."
With a hint of annoyance, Hermione placed her hands on her hips and pursed her lips. "I am quite aware, Professor Snape, that this classroom needs to be tidied. I was simply taking a look at the contents page."
Snape raised an eyebrow. "And when have you, Miss Granger, ever simply opened a book with the intent of reading only the contents, and been able to do just that." Hermione opened her mouth a few times, but didn't actually say anything and Snape smirked. "My point exactly."
She sighed and rolled her eyes, a small smile on her face. "Honestly, Professor, you're as bad as Ron and Harry." She forced herself to remain sober and not allow any hint of laughter to escape, but the look of horror on Snape's face quickly became too much and she started to chuckle. "I'm sorry, Professor, I couldn't help it."
"Please try."
Hermione smiled apologetically, but she had no doubt that Snape realised she was not sorry in the slightest. Snape glanced around the room, and Hermione, in turn glanced at him. She couldn't help but look him up and down, wondering what it was exactly that was so different about him. There was no doubt that he was treating her differently, something she as eternally grateful for. She knew that, along with Hooch, Sprout and, no doubt, some of the other teachers' negative opinions, she couldn't cope with him being nasty to her as well. While he wasn't exactly nice, he seemed to be treating her with a cold kind of acceptance.
"When you've quite finished staring at me, Professor," he started, shaking her out of her observations and causing a slight blush to taint her cheeks. "Perhaps it would be prudent to begin."
Hermione nodded rather glumly and sighed. She turned around to face the windows, deciding to tackle them first, and held up her wand, muttering a cleaning charm. The windows were soon clean of dirt, but there were visible streaks, as if they had been washed by a particularly bad window washer. She grunted and held up her wand again, but before she could say anything, she heard a muttered word beside her, and the windows instantly sparkled clean.
She turned, rather shocked to see Professor Snape standing beside her. While she hadn't heard him leaving, she had assumed he had done just that, therefore seeing him standing beside her, wearing black trousers and a loose fitting white shirt, she was utterly bewildered. His robes lay over one of the tables, which, she noted, had been cleaned, and the book lay on top of them, the delicate pages protected from falling to the floor by the surrounding softness of his robes.
"I wasn't expecting your help."
"Perhaps, but you are clearly in need of it," he said with a sneer. Hermione, however, smiled. While the look was there, there was no venom in his voice, simply fact. The room was a mess and she did need help. He understood that, and without actually offering to help her, he was doing just that. Knowing that a thank you would be rather out of place, seeing as he had not vocally volunteered, as such, and also because she rather suspected that Snape found it difficult to accept thanks, she simply nodded.
They worked throughout the morning and afternoon, stopping only briefly to accept lunch from the house-elves (no doubt Dumbledore had asked them to bring some food for the two professors), and by around five o'clock, the room was completely spotless. The roof, it seemed, was actually rather extravagant, and, despite having to evict dozens of unhappy spiders, Hermione was extremely pleased with the results. The coving of the roof was a deep mahogany; cleared of the scratches and scores thanks to a spell she had learned recently. The roof itself was an intricate design of wooden patterns that, after a few moments of study, appeared to be the layout of the thirteen main numerical diagrams.
"Fascinating," she whispered, more to herself than anything else. The companionable silence had almost led her to believe she was working alone at times.
"Indeed."
The soft voice beside her ear startled her, and she glanced out of the corner of her eyes to see Snape's profile alongside her. She didn't turned her head for fear of surprising him into moving, although she was unsure as to why she wanted him to remain where he was. She deduced that it had something to do with her mostly isolated two years. While she had had Harry and Ron throughout the school year, due to the fact that she had lived every day twice it was as if they had only been with her every other day, and even then she was immersed in her work.
Throughout the summer she had, of course, had Linda's companionship, as well as Darren's on occasion. She had continued her instruction with Professors McGonagall and Dumbledore, as well as her Defence Against the Dark Arts classes with Remus. Although Remus didn't know why she was learning everything, she had grown close to the man. The fact the he lived nearby coupled with Linda's need to cook him dinner (and burn it, resulting in Remus cooking, or them ordering a take away), meant that she had seen a lot of him during the summer.
However, since passing her exams, her tutoring had finished, and her only companion had been Linda, Remus having been called away often on Order business. She knew she could have visited Ron, Harry and Ginny, but she hadn't felt that she could lie to them face to face anymore. It had resulted in a rather lonely few weeks.
Those thoughts brought her back to the present and the fact that she currently found herself seeking companionship, although perhaps that was far too strong a word, from the one man that had tormented her school learning for the last eight years…she really hate time turners.
"What, may I ask, is it that you find so inspiring, Miss Granger, that you feel the need to inspect my face?"
"Sorry, Professor, I'm a little tired, I guess."
"While I fail to see the connection between your exhaustion and my features, I will suggest, perhaps, that you retire until dinner this evening."
"I think I will."
They stood from their perched positions on the desk, and Hermione wasn't sure why she was disappointed when he threw his robes back on. She didn't pick up the book herself, but waited for him to hand it to her.
"Thank you," she said, genuinely smiling at the man. "For the book and your help today."
Snape nodded and they walked out of the classroom together. They made their way back down the school towards their rooms, although, this time, they reached Snape's first. Like her own rooms, Snape's were not hidden behind a portrait, but a wall that shifted aside when he muttered his password.
Hermione continued, thoughts of her bed seeming more and more welcoming as her lack of sleep that morning finally caught up with her. She was just entering the sanctuary of her rooms when a high pitched voice called out her name.
Resisting the urge to groan, she turned to face the small Charms professor as he reached her room. She smiled at him and indicated that he should enter. A few moments later, she was having tea as Professor Flitwick surveyed his surroundings.
"I must say, Professor Granger, that you've made this room look a lot nicer and a great deal more welcoming than its previous owner did."
"Thank you."
Flitwick seemed to regard her rather nervously for a moment before he sighed and placed his cup on the small table beside him. "I will admit that I'm not entirely sure where to begin."
Hermione nodded, but didn't smile, still not sure where the conversation was about to head. Flitwick seemed to notice, but did not comment.
"I think that it is essential that colleagues understand each other, even if they do not particularly like each other, or get on at all. However, I have always found you to be an extraordinary student, and a delight to talk to, so I perceive no problem in us building a good relationship as colleagues."
At that Hermione did smile. "Thank you, Professor Flitwick."
"Please, Hermione, call me Filius."
Hermione nodded and he continued, however, there was a distinct difference to his tone. "The other reason I am here is to explain that the conversation you overheard this morning is not likely to be an isolated incident." He waited for Hermione to comment, but she didn't. "Many of the staff are more than happy to have you hear, my dear, but you have to understand that we, each of us, have spent a long time learning our crafts and living our lives. We each have experience and wisdom that cannot be taught in the classroom. While your academic achievements are exemplary, Hermione, you have no real life experience.
"It is this that will separate you from some of the professors. No one means any harm, Hermione, their opinions are simply that, their opinions. They will in no way be shown in front of the student body or, indeed, yourself on most occasions, but it is important that you are aware that they exist. While we, as an entire staff will stand together by all means, you must not take it personally that not everyone is welcoming you."
Hermione nodded slowly and placed her cup on the table by her chair. "Professor - Filius, I understand that. Despite my love for reading, I know that not everything can be taught from books. I understand that I have nowhere near the life experience of the rest of the staff, and while I understand and, in some ways, agree with that, what they are failing to take into account is what I have lived through. I'm not saying that I'm well versed in the ways of life, but I have lived through this war as one of Harry Potter's best friends, and I will remain involved until it ends or I do.
"In their opinions, I may not be older and wiser than any other seventh year, but the truth is, I am ready for this. It won't be easy, I'm not going to fool myself of that, but please be aware that I will succeed in this, and their opinions will not stop that."
"Wonderful!" Filius' face broke out into a smile and Hermione was momentarily stunned. "That's precisely what I said you'd say. I know you'll be a wonderful teacher, Hermione, please don't hesitate to ask me for anything." Filius hopped off the chair and walked quickly to the door. "Now, my dear, we'd best head to dinner."
Glancing at the clock before following him out the door, Hermione was distressed to see that it was, indeed, dinnertime. Sighing with resignation, she and Filius made their way to the Great Hall, Hermione longing for her bed, and wondering whether or not all her teachers suffered from sudden mood swings. And whether or not it was catching.
~x~x~x~x~x~
Severus leaned closer to the bubbling brew and carefully added a pinch on cinnamon. The potion instantly turned a vivid purple. He stood up, cracking his spine back into place and sighing. He had been worried he had missed the correct time to add the final ingredients given that he had spent the afternoon helping Granger sort out her classroom. He had, in truth, completely forgotten about the potion.
He was glad that Granger seemed to dislike interruption for pointless conversation and had, instead, allowed them to work the day mostly in silence, otherwise Severus knew he would not have stayed. As it was he had stayed far longer than he had anticipated, hence why he was having to finish his potions before he could head to the Great Hall for dinner. Under normal circumstances he would simply miss dinner and have the house-elves bring him something, however, Dumbledore had requested his presence at Grimmauld Place afterwards.
He growled a little at the thought that Sirius Black was still haunting him, despite his deceased state. Unfortunately Severus was more than used to his past haunting wherever he went. The tattoo on his left arm, for example. That was a mistake he would have to live with for the rest of his life, no matter if Voldemort lived or died. It was in the very fabric of his skin and he often worried whether or not it had made its way into his soul.
Self pity, he sneered at himself, what a wonderful way to spend the evening. Melodramatic self pity, just to make it more enjoyable.
He rubbed a hand over his eyes and forced himself to focus. The dull light in the dungeon was, at most times, a blessing. Severus had no inclination to brighten the place up, or make it seem welcoming. The last thing he wanted was for his students to feel at ease within the confines of his classroom. While the other professors seemed willing to let the children feel relaxed, he refused to give them that sense of security; a security they would not have when the left Hogwarts' protection.
However, at that precise moment in time, he was feeling distinctly disgruntled at the fact that he could not brew the potions in his own private laboratory. The dull light was more than enough for the student body to be able to make a good job of the simple potions they were required to brew.
Not that any of them seem to be capable of even that, he sneered.
However, more precision was required with the potions he was making for Poppy, and the lack of good lighting was making it difficult.
The sooner Lupin finds someone else to brew his potion, the better. Although, he conceded, he's better off with mine. Even if it does take up my entire laboratory once a month.
While most apothecaries, and even some potions masters, had no problems preparing the Wolfsbane potion in the same room as other potions, Severus refused to do so. In his mind, it only served to prove that most of the Wizards and Witches in his craft were not worthy of the title they held. The sensitive ingredients combined with the necessity for careful preparation made it an easy potion to get wrong, and inviting outside elements, such as other potions and their ingredients and smells, to interrupt that was unprofessional, and frankly, dangerous.
Severus quickly bottled the potions he had just finished preparing and glanced at the clock, realising that dinner would already be underway. He had had no intention of being on time as it was, so the fact that he could not have done so was of little consequence. He placed the vials in the box beside the other potions he had already prepared and closed the lid over the top. He would take them to the infirmary as soon as the skelegrow had finished simmering, which wouldn't be for at least another day.
Severus moved quickly to the doorway and headed down the hallways to the Great Hall, nodding at the Bloody Baron as he passed through a wall to Severus' left. It took only a few moments to arrive at dinner, and he quickly assessed that most of the staff were absent. Albus, Granger and Filius were at the top end of the table and Minerva and Poppy were at the other end, trying to completely ignore Sybill who was sitting opposite them. He knew that Seriya had arranged to visit her husband for the evening, not that he had particularly cared to be informed, simply that he had been in the wrong place at the wrong time. Where the others were, however, was a complete mystery.
"Ah, Severus," Albus greeted as Severus sat at the man's left, opposite Granger. "We were wondering where you had got to."
"I had some potions to attend to."
"They are taken care of?"
"I hardly think I would be here if they were not."
"Excellent, well, you are free to join us this evening."
"I wasn't aware that not attending was an option, Headmaster." Severus said through narrowed eyes, hating the smile that the headmaster was sending his way. He quickly filled his plate as Albus turned to Professor Granger and continued whatever pointless conversation they been having on his entering, and Severus began to eat his dinner.
"Severus."
He withheld a groan and turned to glare at the eccentric woman that had moved to sit at his right. He remembered Sybill Trelawney before she had got 'The Gift', and he had to say he rather missed the sarcastic Slytherin. They had never been friends, Sybill had been in her seventh year when he had started school, but she had always been a good sparring partner. The snivelling phoney in front of him was neither even a shadow of her previous self, nor worthy to have ever been a Slytherin.
"Severus, I have a strange feeling."
"How pleasant for you," he sneered. His patience was wearing thin as it was, and the fact that Granger was smirking at him was not improving it any.
"Not for me, Severus, for you."
He raised an eyebrow at her, but refused to comment. Not only did he not want to hear what she was about to say, but he doubted he wanted the rest of the faculty to hear it either. Sybill had a penchant for causing him embarrassment with her silly, whimsical 'predictions', and he was not in the mood for her to, once again, tell him that he would either be 'bitten by cupid's arrow' or 'eaten by the offspring of a hippogryph and a kneazle' within the next few days. Neither had happened the last time, and he highly doubted they ever would.
"Venus dictates that the night is drawing-"
"Given that it is currently after six, I would say that, yes, night is drawing."
He bit back a smirk as Granger snorted in her pumpkin juice, causing her to start choking. The fact that Minerva and Poppy were doing nothing to hide their laughter was not helping the young witch in gaining control.
"Please try not to die on us, Professor Granger," he drawled, "Sybill may see it as the night drawing to a close thus proving her prediction."
Sybill sniffed slightly and he rolled his eyes. Even as a Slytherin the woman had been prone to tears (only within the confines her own house, of course), the fact that she might as well be a Hufflepuff now was not an improvement to the situation. If there was one thing Severus hated it was crying without good cause. It was a futile endeavour that merely proved to decrease one's attractiveness and irritate those in the near vicinity. Nothing came of it, and he doubted that Sybill had a good reason. Perhaps if she had been eaten by the offspring of a hyppogryph and a kneazle…
He frowned when he realised that Sybill was still talking to him and sighed. He picked at his dinner and rolled his eyes before turning towards her.
"-passions of those around you. You really don't give yourself enough credit, Severus."
"If you've quite finished."
"Well, not really, there was the…" she trailed of at the look in his eyes and nodded with a nervous laugh. "Of course. I'm quite finished."
"Good."
Her turned back to his dinner, satisfied when he heard her moving away, and glanced across the table at Granger. She was trying to smother a smile and he glared at her, but she didn't seem fazed in the slightest.
As dictated by the fact that no one wanted to be cornered by Sybill, dinner ended quickly, and Severus soon found himself walking off the Hogwarts grounds with Albus and Granger. There was little talking, Albus had yet to tell him why his presence was required and Granger seemed distracted.
No doubt wondering how Weasley and Boy Wonder will take her news, he thought, his eyes darkening, as they were prone to when his thoughts focussed on Potter. He despised the boy. As much as he respected the young wizard for his talents, no matter how little faith anyone would have in that fact, the truth was, the boy was too…well, Gryffindor, not to put too fine a point on it. While he had the talent and promise to be the greatest wizard of all time, he had the common sense of a fly and the stupidity of selfless bravery. Severus had no doubt that if the boy put some effort into it, the intelligence he had hidden somewhere would take effect. However, the way everyone treated the boy, Severus had little hope that that would happen.
"Here is fine, Hermione," Albus said, as he and Severus stopped by a large tree. Granger had been so lost in her thoughts that she had continued walking. On hearing the headmaster's voice, she started a little and turned to face them with the look of someone who has just been abruptly shaken from a deep sleep.
"Sorry, Professor," she said with a smile, walked back a few steps towards them. "I was a little lost there." Albus nodded and within minutes the three of them had Apparated to Grimmauld Place.
The house, as it had been in Black's time, was still hidden from view. They walked towards it, and Severus found himself drawn to Granger as she began to fidget. He had seen the girl nervous to near hysteria before, not something unexpected of a perfectionist and over-achiever. However, she seemed nervous to a degree that he didn't think Potter and Weasley were worthy of.
Surely if she's friends with the fools, they'll feel nothing but happy for her. Well, perhaps not happy that she now has power over them. Although I doubt she'll actually use it, he thought with a sneer. No, he had no doubt that he would be picking up Granger's slack where the remaining members of the 'Dream Team' were concerned.
Severus was of the opinion that the faculty, in general, let the golden boy and his sidekick away with far too much. He, however, had no qualms at talking points at an increased rate to make up for it. After all, Albus would only find some way to give Potter points for some good deed or other by the end of the school year, thus taking Gryffindor into the lead.
They quietly entered the house and Severus took a deep breath, steeling himself for having to put up with Potter and the Weasley clan. Severus did not consider himself much of a snob, no matter what Minerva said, however, where the Weasleys were concerned, he had no problems admitting that he liked to sneer in their general direction. They had more mouths to feed that money, and they were far too…homely for his tastes. With that many, it was not difficult to see how they had managed to let those infernal twins turn into annoying pranksters, and the fact that the youngest male Weasley was best friends with Potter was reason enough to hate him.
He found Mr Weasley to be an intelligent man, with far too many annoying tasted, and his wife was an irritating, mothering busybody. The fact that both held him in the utmost contempt gave him no need to change his opinions. In fact, the only Weasley he had any liking for was the youngest.
Miss Weasley, while she seemed to like him as much as the rest of her family, was an intelligent, fiery young woman who he had a great deal of hope for. Assuming she didn't marry Potter and churn out the next hoard of snivelling Weasleys, Severus honestly thought she could go far. With the right guidance of course, and it was irritating that he was not in the position to be that guide. While he had tried to coax Minerva into doing it herself, the truth was that the woman had enough on her hands with Potter, Weasley and Longbottom in her House.
There was no question that the Gryffindors were, without a doubt, the most annoying house to deal with. The Slytherins, in their turn, were the most dangerous, the Ravenclaws the most obnoxious and the Hufflepuffs the most irritatingly weak. Because of this, and the fact that Miss Weasley was actually happy and doing well, Minerva did not have time to actually focus on her.
"Ah, Albus, Hermione, so good to see you!" Molly Weasley bustled into the hallway from the kitchen. She hugged Hermione and then glanced at him momentarily and nodded, with a tight smile. Severus smirked in amusement. "Professor," she said with tight lips.
"We're just finishing up with dinner, why don't you come through."
Severus stood back from the others as they entered the kitchen area. A large chorus of hellos echoed around the room, and Severus moved quietly into the corner as Granger was enveloped in numerous hugs. Albus made his way to the top of the table and sat down next to Arthur Weasley, instantly engaging the man in conversation.
While Severus was aware that he was not a particularly popular man, emphasised by the fact that he was an ex-Death Eater, and everyone in the room knew it, he couldn't help sometimes wishing that he had someone to greet him, to chat to him. However, this was not one of these times. Being greeted by a Weasley on friendly terms and then being forced to chat to one of them was not appealing in the slightest.
After dinner had been cleaned up, Hermione left with her friends, and he was happy to see the back of Potter and Weasley. Ginny Weasley followed them a few moments later, looking up and him and nodding her head. He inclined his head and smiled inwardly. The young girl, while she had seemed to still hate him at the end of the previous year, had always shown him an immense amount of respect, especially since he had saved her life the previous year.
A few moments later, the room was all but emptied only the eldest Weasley, his parents, Severus, himself, and Albus were left. Severus made his way to the table and sat next to Albus, nodding his head at Bill Weasley. While he maintained not to like any of the male Weasleys, Bill was the one he respected the most.
"We are just waiting on-" Albus stopped as the door opened, and broke into a grin. "Ah, Remus, here you are."
"Sorry, I'm late Albus," the werewolf said, taking the seat to Severus' left.
Severus glanced at the man with a frown. While he had never liked Remus during his time at school, and with good reason, he had grown to appreciate the man's company over the last few years, and what he saw concerned him.
While Remus had always been a slight man, he looked decidedly ill. His robes were hanging off his thin frame and his face looked eerily gaunt, the lighting in the room casting dark shadows under his eyes. He looked like the stereotypical werewolf, in fact.
Remus cast a glance at him and tried a smile, well aware that Severus' concerned gaze had been resting on him. Remus was one of the few people that knew the entire story where he was concerned and understood the lengths he had gone to. While he trusted no one completely, Remus was up there with Albus and Minerva as far as his trust went.
"We seem to have another leak," Albus said, getting straight to the point. While the two Weasleys seemed shocked and disturbed by the news, Severus and Remus had been the first ones to broach the subject with Albus.
They had thought, or rather, hoped, that when Vector had been dismissed, all worries of spying within the close contacts of the Order were gone. However, the mission that he and Remus had spent three weeks on recently had proven otherwise. While his position as a spy was moderately useful, he was often required to help the Order by other means, and going undercover with Remus had been the recent requirement.
"Are you sure, Albus?" Arthur asked with a frown.
"Quite," Severus replied as the Headmaster glanced in his direction.
"I'm afraid so, Arthur," Remus replied tiredly. The other men exchanged looks as Remus' gaze did not move from the table.
"Do we have any idea who?" Bill asked, leaning forward in his chair.
"No." Severus saw no reason to even pretend otherwise. They were at a total loss as to who was betraying them, and the three weeks investigation into the lower ranks of the Death Eaters had been absolutely no help whatsoever.
"I'm afraid we have nothing," Albus said with a sigh. "Voldemort is closing in, and our only hope is that he does not discover the only weapon we have before it is ready."
Severus raised his eyebrows. "You had better hope Professor Granger does not discover this either. And I highly doubt she would appreciate being thought of as a weapon, let alone our last hope."
"Indeed," Remus said. The other three men had been informed of the basic details of the prophecy and of Hermione's importance the previous night, and it seemed they were still unaware as to just how important the young woman would be to their success in the war. Severus only hoped that she was able to fulfil her roll, otherwise, the war rested solely on Harry Potter's shoulders, and, to Severus at least, that was not a comforting thought.
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TBC…
Haven't been around lately as![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
notasalmon is up for a visit, and with work and college as well, have been a very busy Kyizi. Heh, that rhymes!
Speaking of busy,heliona and I have jumped on the fic recording bandwagon and have been working on recording our Draco/Ginny fic "What Stands Between Us". Is coming along nicely! So much so, that I went and ordered my own mic! Had to order a USB one though, because, for reasons best known to himself, Johnny (my laptop), doesn't have a mic inlet...bizarre.
Anyway, have college work due in tomorrow (ARGH! Will never get it all done in time!), so I'd best off. Hope you enjoy the update!
To read part one, click here
Note #2: To the anonymous reviewer on fanfiction.net for chapter one. Really wish you'd left an email address, but either way, this chapter addresses the issues you had relating to Hermione's appointment as a teacher. The start of this chapter was written before I posted chapter one, and was always intended to relate to the problems of her becoming a teacher. The main reason they are not in chapter one is that I felt it was too much all at once. So, to all readers who may have issues with her being accepted so readily, this should ease your worries.
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Part Two: To Live and to Learn
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Hermione sighed and rolled over, glancing at the digital clock by her bed. It was four thirty in the morning and yet sleep was evading her. Perhaps due to the fact that she had fallen into bed around ten o'clock and instantly fallen into a dreamless sleep.
Dumbledore's news had not come as a complete surprise, which in itself, she conceded, should have been reason enough for shock to hit her. The only thing that seemed to be clear, the only fact that she was concentrating on was that her headmaster had not only lied to her, but he had manipulated her.
She was by no means under the impression that Dumbledore was perfect and omnipotent, but she had always granted him the courtesy of assuming that he knew what to do for the best, despite is lack of truthfulness to Harry in their fifth year. It seemed now that she was wrong. While Dumbledore clearly stood by his decision and still believed it to have been for the best, Hermione had fumed in silence, not really trusting herself to speak much for the rest of the meeting. Snape, to his credit, had remained quiet and his face, while not friendly, or sympathetic in the least, had not been sending cursory glares in her direction.
With her thoughts once more in disarray, Hermione realised that attempting sleep again was futile, and rolled out of bed, pulling on her night-gown to ward off the persistent cold of the castle. It was not yet late enough for the house-elves to have started her fire, and she could almost see her breath as she padded into the bathroom.
Deciding that now was as good a time as any to indulge in the bubble bath she had promised herself on arrival, she turned on the taps and added a generous amount of the lavender scented aromatherapy bubble bath Linda had given her as part of her last birthday present. She rarely got the chance to use it, but she loved the scent. The smell filled the air instantly, and Hermione smiled as the steam warmed her considerably, stripping off and entering the tub.
She could feel the water coursing around her, a little too hot perhaps, but she didn't care. She had always, for as long as she could remember, loved to get into the bath before she stopped running the water. There was something about the feel of it rushing by her and heating her up on cold mornings, that she had never been able to explain, but she loved it none the less.
Before the water got too deep, and the bubbles got out of hand, Hermione stopped the taps with a flick of her wrist and settled back, allowing the steam and the smell to relax her in a way that her sleep had not. She closed her eyes and refused to let her thoughts drag her into more melancholy hypotheses, and instead focussed on what exactly she was going to tell Ron and Harry that night.
While she had no misconceptions as to how hard it would be to make the transition to teacher, she knew that her hope about her friends' reactions was entirely based on wishful thinking. She knew Ron and Harry like the back of her hands, and she also knew Ginny fairly well. Where they would all likely be delighted for her, although hurt that she had hid it from them, the thing she was most worried about was the way they would treat her now. And she had the feeling that they would try to treat her exactly the same way they always had, and she knew that that was not an option.
After the staff meeting the night before, Charlie Weasley had arrived at her rooms with a smile and a hug, congratulating her on her successes, but the resulting conversation had been a bit of an leveller. While Charlie was relatively new to the position, he had arrived the previous year. It had been a dream come true for Ron to have one of his brothers in the school, there to cheer him on in his Quidditch matches and help when he needed it. However, what her friend had failed to realise, was that Charlie would be treating him in exactly the same way he treated all the students.
The resulting row had been long and had taken a long time to resolve, before Ron had finally conceded that Charlie couldn't show favouritism to him. But the rift had taken time to heal, and that was what Charlie had wanted to talk about. Ron.
Harry, while she knew he would find it hard, would be unlikely to react that badly to her new position of authority over him, but Ron would, undeniably try to treat her the same way he always had. And when the truth bit him, she had the feeling she would be on the receiving end of the Weasley temper. It certainly wouldn't help that they had tentatively attempted to start a romantic involvement at the start of the holidays before her parents had been killed. And while that had been the deciding factor, Hermione knew that there would never have been anything lasting between them. She only hoped that Ron had reached that conclusion as well. The last thing she needed was to add student/teacher relationships to her 'Issues I'll Have This Year' box.
By the time she had stopped addressing her thoughts, Hermione realised that, not only was the water cold, but her skin was wrinkled and the small noises coming from her room were from the fire. Evidently the house-elves were up and about, and that meant that the morning was approaching.
Hermione quickly dried and dressed, opting for a quick drying spell before she attempted to tackle her hair. It was one thing to complain about having to sit still while someone else fixed it, but actually doing it for herself had proven to be worse. No matter how hard she tried, it still took her at least twenty minutes after applying the lotions to achieve the desired look that the hairdresser had taken less than five to perfect. At lest it was shorter than it had been, and there was less of it to tame.
While she had spent money on makeup, she doubted she would ever go through the rigorous routine of applying everything on a daily basis. She had opted for moisturising her skin and adding a little foundation, some mascara and eyeliner, and a little lip-gloss. While there seemed to be no reason for her to do so, and she had always seen it as a pointless act, she somehow appreciated the different feel it gave her to wear makeup. A little like when she was wearing heels (which admittedly wasn't often) she felt her hips automatically swaying, when she wore makeup and straightened her hair, she found she was given that slight bit more confidence to both keep her head up, and in her attitude in general. She really saw little other explanation to her reactions to Snape the previous evening.
Whatever possessed me to speak to him like that? she wondered idly, and with slightly more awe and amusement than was really wise where the Potions Master was concerned. I half expected him to take house points, and if him grinding his teeth was any indication, he wanted to do just that. I can't believe I called him Severus!
She was still unsure of why Minerva seemed to have such a close relationship with the man, when it had always been blatantly obvious that the two hated each other. Yet, over the last year, during her training for her Apparition exam, and her advanced schooling, her time with Minerva had shown that the Professors perhaps got on a little better than they let everyone believe.
Not willing herself to be swept up in speculation any longer, Hermione took one last, satisfied look at herself in the mirror, and left her rooms. She instantly headed for her place of sanctuary, and entered the library a few minutes later.
That's one thing to be said for the location of my new rooms, she thought with a smile. I won't have to worry about getting to the library in a hurry, it's right round the corner.
Still a little cautious, despite the fact that her new station in the school gave her the right to be there, Hermione gave a glance around the room, checking to see if Madam Pince was present. Finding no sign of the woman, Hermione made her way to the section at the far wall, remembering the book she had found her previous information in. She searched for a few moments before finding it, and settled into the large armchair by the window, opening the book to the page on magical anomalies.
Not quite sure she appreciated being categorised as a 'magical anomaly', Hermione began to read about Hermanté, but quickly found that she had previously read everything that particular book had to offer. She spent the next few hours searching through all the books she thought might be helpful, and even some that she knew would not be, hoping, in vain, to find something.
A grumble in her stomach was the first thing that alerted her to the fact that she had spent a long time in the library, and a glance out of the window informed her that she had been correct in her assessment. She let out a defeated sigh and placed the books she was currently holding back in their original place.
Resigning herself to returning later, she left the library and made her way to the Great Hall, in the hopes that it wasn't still too early (or even too late) for her to get some breakfast. Hearing some voices, she slowed her swift walk, and identified three of the Professors in a heated discussion. She wasn't sure that she wanted to eaves drop, but neither did she want to burst past them, and it was the only way to get the Great Hall without a large detour.
She identified the speakers as Sinistra, Sprout and Hooch. Deciding to chance her luck and pass them by, Hermione began to walk again, only stopping when she heard her name. She froze. And while she didn't want to listen to what they might say, she was filled with an insatiable curiosity.
"…can't understand it."
"It's out of order, is what it is," she heard Hooch saying in a rather angry tone. "She has no right to be here."
"Hermione Granger is an incredibly talented witch," Seriya spoke in her defence. "She's an intelligent and wise child."
"Exactly!" Sprout exclaimed. "She's a child. She has no right to be here without proper study and life experience. She should be back in the classroom as a student this year, finishing off her studies and her childhood at the normal rate. She's not old enough to be treated as an adult yet."
"Precisely," Hooch continued, and Hermione would have fled by that point if her feet had been co-operating, as it was, she was desperately trying to remember how to breathe in order to stop herself from bursting into tears. "I'm not denying the girl has talent and intelligence, Seriya, despite her questionable ability with a broomstick, but Albus has clearly gone mad if he expects us to accept her as an adult and a colleague."
"And if this is our reaction, just imagine what she will receive from the student body."
"While I don't doubt it will be difficult, Pomona, I think Miss Granger is here for a reason. She clearly has the intelligence to be here, and I think she's strong enough to get past the treatment of her peers."
"I wish I could agree, Seriya, but I can't."
At Sprout's final statement, Hermione swivelled on the balls of her feet, intending to head directly back to her rooms for a good cry. Unfortunately she walked squarely into a rather hard chest and was sent sprawling to the floor.
"Professor Granger, it would be wise to attempt to retain a little grace now that you are a teacher," Snape sneered at her. She was aware that he seemed to have spoken rather loudly, and the scuffling of feet coming from the direction the other professors had been, confirmed that.
Hermione scrambled to her feet and dusted off her robes. "My apologies, Professor, I was a little distracted."
"Indeed."
Snape didn't wait for anything further, instead continuing his quick stride in the direction of the Great Hall, and Hermione decided that, having been spotted already, it would be wise for her to follow. Despite his predictable reaction to her, she had seen the acknowledgement in his eyes. While unsure of how long he had been standing behind her, she knew that he had heard the conversation that was taking place, or at least some of it, and that implied that his wording and volume had been chosen for a specific purpose. However, at that moment in time, she refused to analyse anything further. Not Snape, not Seriya, Hooch or Sprout. She wanted to blank her mind and pretend that everything was all right.
When she entered the hall, she discovered, to her dismay, that the table was set as it was during most holidays; in other words, it was set in such a way that, instead of sitting in a long row next to each other, those present sat around a table. And as Hermione got closer to the table, she quickly assessed that the only space left, while between Minerva and Seriya, was opposite Hooch, Sprout and Snape. Not a choice she would have made herself, but she refused to acknowledge that she had heard anything, and sat down, instantly filling up her plate.
"Good morning, Hermione," Minerva greeted with a smile, and she tried to return it as best she could. The other professor frowned slightly, but didn't question her, instead sticking to the mundane. "Did you sleep well?"
"Not really," Hermione answered truthfully. "I think I went to bed too early, I've been up since about four." Minerva grimaced and Hermione gave a slight chuckle, remembering how her early morning tutoring sessions had usually begun; coffee, cursing and the occasional clipped comment. Minerva was most definitely not a morning person.
"Well, you'll get into a routine when the students arrive, I'm sure. It's gruelling work, but you'll handle it but you'll want to spend all morning in your bed just to escape sometimes."
Hermione smiled, and couldn't help glancing across the table at that moment. Where Sprout looked embarrassed and refused to meet her gaze, Hooch was regarding her with a frown. She wasn't quite sure what to make of it, so she shifted her gaze to Seriya, hoping to engage the woman in conversation. While Seriya had been involved in the earlier dispute that Hermione had overheard, she had been defending her, and Hermione wanted to let the woman know that she appreciated that, even if she refused to acknowledge that it had happened at all.
"How is the project coming along?" she asked, breaking the Astronomy teacher's' silent reverie.
The woman smiled, almost apologetically before she answered. "Slowly. I'm still not sure that it's my wisest decision, but Firenze assured me that he would guarantee our protection during the excursions."
Hermione smiled wistfully. "I'm rather sad I'll miss out on it."
"You're more than welcome, Hermione," Seriya said with a wide grin. "It might even be helpful to have an extra professor along, given the teenage tendency to wander off into danger. Some teenagers in particular," she finished with a laugh.
Hermione smiled, knowing that exactly what teenagers she was referring to. She was glad no one had interrupted with the obvious statement that Hermione herself was still a teenager, as she wasn't sure that she could handle it after what she had just overheard, but she saw a flicker in Hooch's eyes, and even Snape quirked an eyebrow. Although, to be honest, Snape seemed more amused than anything else, which surprised her. Humour wasn't something she had ever really associated with Snape, and yet she was convinced that was precisely the case. Sardonic humour, without a doubt, and she would have expected nothing less from the man with the reputation for eating small children in his spare time, but it was definitely there.
Turning her attention away from the potions master, she realised that she had been addressed, and turned to Dumbledore a little surprised. "I'm sorry, professor, I was miles away."
Dumbledore smiled and nodded. "Of course. I was wondering if you required any help with the classroom, as now would, without doubt, be the best time to enlist it."
"I'm not really sure," Hermione began, "I hadn't really thought to explore it yet. I think I'll take a look this afternoon and decide what needs to be done."
"Of course."
Madam Pince nodded at her, motioning that she had something to say, but clearly not wanting to do so through a mouthful of bacon and scrambled egg. Hermione smiled and waited for the woman to finish eating.
"Sorry," Pince began with a smile. "I just wanted to let you know that the books you requested should arrive either this afternoon or tomorrow morning."
"Excellent!" Hermione felt her spirits rising. If there was one thing that always served to cheer her up, a new book was definitely it. "I was hoping they would arrive before the term began, I want to start with them."
"Surely you don't expect the entire school to share one copy of each book?" Madam Pince interrupted.
"Of course not!" Hermione said with a smile, refusing to react to the fact that her conversation was garnering most of the attention of the table. "The three books I ordered are much too comprehensive for any of the younger classes, and I only wish to teach certain aspects to the advanced class. While they might come in useful for some of the projects, I doubt there will be a rush to borrow them."
Minerva chuckled. "Unless of course they decide to take after yourself you mean."
Hermione raised her eyebrows. "I highly doubt it," she said at the same time Snape muttered, "I certainly hope not."
She glanced at him and was sure she detected the same trace of humour in his eyes. She laughed in spite of herself and that was clearly not the expected response. Snape's eyebrows rose slightly, Seriya didn't seem sure how to react, Pince looked as though she thought Hermione had gone mad, and Hooch looked outright shocked.
She didn't comment any further, instead setting on her breakfast with a speed she usually only associated with Ron. She hadn't realised she was that hungry, but her stomach new best and she followed its orders.
She wolfed down her breakfast and quickly dismissed herself, leaving before anyone, including Snape, had cleared their plates. She made her way back to her rooms, pushing all thoughts of the opinions of her colleagues to the back of her mind, along with those of Hermanté, and quickly changed into a pair of old jeans and a faded Elvis Presley T-shirt that had belonged to her father.
Hermione clearly remembered the dusty classroom she had spent a lot of her time in since her third year, and if there was one thing she wanted to change, it was that. There was nothing she could think of that would annoy her more than teaching in a stuffy classroom filled with dirt and dust. Well, she conceded, there were a few things, but they were all clearly labelled, 'Do Not Think About Until Later', so she did just that.
Making her way through Hogwarts corridors, Hermione reached her classroom after only a five-minute walk, and was instantly grateful that her rooms were closer than Gryffindor tower had ever been. That walk was certainly something she would not miss.
She flicked her wand and muttered 'Lumos', disheartened by the fact that the room seemed even worse than she remembered it. The windows were filthy, hence why she had had to light her wand despite the fact that it was not even noon yet; the floor and shelves were covered in a layer of dust that was so visible it was causing her nose to itch just by looking at it; and there were an abundance of cobwebs covering the walls, and completely obscuring the ceiling. It was, in short, a complete mess, and Hermione was not looking forward to tackling it.
"Should have taken that offer of enlisting help," she muttered to herself, knowing that while it made sense, the idea of asking for help was not appealing. After realising that there were fewer people on her side that she had originally thought, she knew she would have to work harder in order to prove herself.
"Not that you haven't spent your whole life doing that already," she said with a sigh.
"Talking to yourself, Professor?"
The sarcastic voice penetrated her thoughts and she jumped a little as she turned to face Professor Snape. He was standing in her doorway glancing around the room with an obvious air of displeasure, and Hermione could hardly blame him. She didn't much want to look at it herself.
"Lovely, isn't it?" she said sarcastically, and Snape's mouth twitched a little. She sighed and turned around in a circle. "It shouldn't take that long, I guess, a few days maybe. I have no idea how it managed to get this bad."
"Simple," Snape said, as if that one word should clarify everything. When Hermione looked at him and raised her eyebrows, however, he continued. "The House Elves will not come near this place, as instructed by the previous owner."
"Professor Vector told them not to tidy this place?" Hermione asked incredulously.
"John-Paul Vector was not a particularly tidy man. His knowledge of Arithmancy was limited at best, and his lack of personal hygiene and tidiness was an aggravation to the entire staff."
While the immature part of Hermione that rested deep within her (her inner Ron, she preferred to think of it) desperately wanted to comment on Snape's own seeming lack of hygiene, she held her tongue. There was just something in the way Snape had seemed to be disgusted by Vector's personal standards that made Hermione think that perhaps his own were impeccable, despite the evidence to the contrary.
As for the comment on Vector's ability with Arithmancy, she had no intention of standing up for the man that had willingly joined Voldemort's ranks. Despite her admiration for Vector's arithmancy skills, she knew what Snape was talking about. Vector had very clear lines and structures within his classes and his knowledge, and the idea of links between arithmancy and anything, let alone potions, was something he would not concede.
"Well, either way, it's my problem now."
"Then I shall not detain you any longer."
Snape turned to exit, and Hermione frowned. He was holding something in his hand, but his robes made it difficult for her to make out what it was. "Was there anything you wanted, Professor?" she asked, aware that, although their classrooms were close, he was a little out of his way. "If there was something you needed, I'm sure I can handle leaving this alone for as long as possible."
Snape turned to face her again, a smirk on his lips. "As sure as I am that you would rather not tackle this particular problem, Professor, I think that, perhaps it would be best to start as soon as possible." Snape took a few steps closer and held out the object. "This book is from my private collection, it is a rare edition, and would be rather difficult for you to find. It would be wise for you to read it."
Hermione frowned and took the book, squinting in the low light in order to read the title. She smiled as the gold swirls focussed and the words, Hermanté: An Inside Study of the Gifted Few. The diary of Hermanté and her successors, became visible.
"Thank you, Professor," she breathed. She looked up at Snape with a large smile and nodded her head a little. "I spent this morning perusing the library with no success, this is exactly what I was looking for."
Snape nodded and offered a slight twitch to his mouth which, Hermione assumed, was supposed to be a smile. She looked back down at the book and prepared to open it when it was snatched from her grasp.
"The reason, Professor Granger, that I was taking the book with me when I left was that I don't believe you should be distracted from your current task."
With a hint of annoyance, Hermione placed her hands on her hips and pursed her lips. "I am quite aware, Professor Snape, that this classroom needs to be tidied. I was simply taking a look at the contents page."
Snape raised an eyebrow. "And when have you, Miss Granger, ever simply opened a book with the intent of reading only the contents, and been able to do just that." Hermione opened her mouth a few times, but didn't actually say anything and Snape smirked. "My point exactly."
She sighed and rolled her eyes, a small smile on her face. "Honestly, Professor, you're as bad as Ron and Harry." She forced herself to remain sober and not allow any hint of laughter to escape, but the look of horror on Snape's face quickly became too much and she started to chuckle. "I'm sorry, Professor, I couldn't help it."
"Please try."
Hermione smiled apologetically, but she had no doubt that Snape realised she was not sorry in the slightest. Snape glanced around the room, and Hermione, in turn glanced at him. She couldn't help but look him up and down, wondering what it was exactly that was so different about him. There was no doubt that he was treating her differently, something she as eternally grateful for. She knew that, along with Hooch, Sprout and, no doubt, some of the other teachers' negative opinions, she couldn't cope with him being nasty to her as well. While he wasn't exactly nice, he seemed to be treating her with a cold kind of acceptance.
"When you've quite finished staring at me, Professor," he started, shaking her out of her observations and causing a slight blush to taint her cheeks. "Perhaps it would be prudent to begin."
Hermione nodded rather glumly and sighed. She turned around to face the windows, deciding to tackle them first, and held up her wand, muttering a cleaning charm. The windows were soon clean of dirt, but there were visible streaks, as if they had been washed by a particularly bad window washer. She grunted and held up her wand again, but before she could say anything, she heard a muttered word beside her, and the windows instantly sparkled clean.
She turned, rather shocked to see Professor Snape standing beside her. While she hadn't heard him leaving, she had assumed he had done just that, therefore seeing him standing beside her, wearing black trousers and a loose fitting white shirt, she was utterly bewildered. His robes lay over one of the tables, which, she noted, had been cleaned, and the book lay on top of them, the delicate pages protected from falling to the floor by the surrounding softness of his robes.
"I wasn't expecting your help."
"Perhaps, but you are clearly in need of it," he said with a sneer. Hermione, however, smiled. While the look was there, there was no venom in his voice, simply fact. The room was a mess and she did need help. He understood that, and without actually offering to help her, he was doing just that. Knowing that a thank you would be rather out of place, seeing as he had not vocally volunteered, as such, and also because she rather suspected that Snape found it difficult to accept thanks, she simply nodded.
They worked throughout the morning and afternoon, stopping only briefly to accept lunch from the house-elves (no doubt Dumbledore had asked them to bring some food for the two professors), and by around five o'clock, the room was completely spotless. The roof, it seemed, was actually rather extravagant, and, despite having to evict dozens of unhappy spiders, Hermione was extremely pleased with the results. The coving of the roof was a deep mahogany; cleared of the scratches and scores thanks to a spell she had learned recently. The roof itself was an intricate design of wooden patterns that, after a few moments of study, appeared to be the layout of the thirteen main numerical diagrams.
"Fascinating," she whispered, more to herself than anything else. The companionable silence had almost led her to believe she was working alone at times.
"Indeed."
The soft voice beside her ear startled her, and she glanced out of the corner of her eyes to see Snape's profile alongside her. She didn't turned her head for fear of surprising him into moving, although she was unsure as to why she wanted him to remain where he was. She deduced that it had something to do with her mostly isolated two years. While she had had Harry and Ron throughout the school year, due to the fact that she had lived every day twice it was as if they had only been with her every other day, and even then she was immersed in her work.
Throughout the summer she had, of course, had Linda's companionship, as well as Darren's on occasion. She had continued her instruction with Professors McGonagall and Dumbledore, as well as her Defence Against the Dark Arts classes with Remus. Although Remus didn't know why she was learning everything, she had grown close to the man. The fact the he lived nearby coupled with Linda's need to cook him dinner (and burn it, resulting in Remus cooking, or them ordering a take away), meant that she had seen a lot of him during the summer.
However, since passing her exams, her tutoring had finished, and her only companion had been Linda, Remus having been called away often on Order business. She knew she could have visited Ron, Harry and Ginny, but she hadn't felt that she could lie to them face to face anymore. It had resulted in a rather lonely few weeks.
Those thoughts brought her back to the present and the fact that she currently found herself seeking companionship, although perhaps that was far too strong a word, from the one man that had tormented her school learning for the last eight years…she really hate time turners.
"What, may I ask, is it that you find so inspiring, Miss Granger, that you feel the need to inspect my face?"
"Sorry, Professor, I'm a little tired, I guess."
"While I fail to see the connection between your exhaustion and my features, I will suggest, perhaps, that you retire until dinner this evening."
"I think I will."
They stood from their perched positions on the desk, and Hermione wasn't sure why she was disappointed when he threw his robes back on. She didn't pick up the book herself, but waited for him to hand it to her.
"Thank you," she said, genuinely smiling at the man. "For the book and your help today."
Snape nodded and they walked out of the classroom together. They made their way back down the school towards their rooms, although, this time, they reached Snape's first. Like her own rooms, Snape's were not hidden behind a portrait, but a wall that shifted aside when he muttered his password.
Hermione continued, thoughts of her bed seeming more and more welcoming as her lack of sleep that morning finally caught up with her. She was just entering the sanctuary of her rooms when a high pitched voice called out her name.
Resisting the urge to groan, she turned to face the small Charms professor as he reached her room. She smiled at him and indicated that he should enter. A few moments later, she was having tea as Professor Flitwick surveyed his surroundings.
"I must say, Professor Granger, that you've made this room look a lot nicer and a great deal more welcoming than its previous owner did."
"Thank you."
Flitwick seemed to regard her rather nervously for a moment before he sighed and placed his cup on the small table beside him. "I will admit that I'm not entirely sure where to begin."
Hermione nodded, but didn't smile, still not sure where the conversation was about to head. Flitwick seemed to notice, but did not comment.
"I think that it is essential that colleagues understand each other, even if they do not particularly like each other, or get on at all. However, I have always found you to be an extraordinary student, and a delight to talk to, so I perceive no problem in us building a good relationship as colleagues."
At that Hermione did smile. "Thank you, Professor Flitwick."
"Please, Hermione, call me Filius."
Hermione nodded and he continued, however, there was a distinct difference to his tone. "The other reason I am here is to explain that the conversation you overheard this morning is not likely to be an isolated incident." He waited for Hermione to comment, but she didn't. "Many of the staff are more than happy to have you hear, my dear, but you have to understand that we, each of us, have spent a long time learning our crafts and living our lives. We each have experience and wisdom that cannot be taught in the classroom. While your academic achievements are exemplary, Hermione, you have no real life experience.
"It is this that will separate you from some of the professors. No one means any harm, Hermione, their opinions are simply that, their opinions. They will in no way be shown in front of the student body or, indeed, yourself on most occasions, but it is important that you are aware that they exist. While we, as an entire staff will stand together by all means, you must not take it personally that not everyone is welcoming you."
Hermione nodded slowly and placed her cup on the table by her chair. "Professor - Filius, I understand that. Despite my love for reading, I know that not everything can be taught from books. I understand that I have nowhere near the life experience of the rest of the staff, and while I understand and, in some ways, agree with that, what they are failing to take into account is what I have lived through. I'm not saying that I'm well versed in the ways of life, but I have lived through this war as one of Harry Potter's best friends, and I will remain involved until it ends or I do.
"In their opinions, I may not be older and wiser than any other seventh year, but the truth is, I am ready for this. It won't be easy, I'm not going to fool myself of that, but please be aware that I will succeed in this, and their opinions will not stop that."
"Wonderful!" Filius' face broke out into a smile and Hermione was momentarily stunned. "That's precisely what I said you'd say. I know you'll be a wonderful teacher, Hermione, please don't hesitate to ask me for anything." Filius hopped off the chair and walked quickly to the door. "Now, my dear, we'd best head to dinner."
Glancing at the clock before following him out the door, Hermione was distressed to see that it was, indeed, dinnertime. Sighing with resignation, she and Filius made their way to the Great Hall, Hermione longing for her bed, and wondering whether or not all her teachers suffered from sudden mood swings. And whether or not it was catching.
~x~x~x~x~x~
Severus leaned closer to the bubbling brew and carefully added a pinch on cinnamon. The potion instantly turned a vivid purple. He stood up, cracking his spine back into place and sighing. He had been worried he had missed the correct time to add the final ingredients given that he had spent the afternoon helping Granger sort out her classroom. He had, in truth, completely forgotten about the potion.
He was glad that Granger seemed to dislike interruption for pointless conversation and had, instead, allowed them to work the day mostly in silence, otherwise Severus knew he would not have stayed. As it was he had stayed far longer than he had anticipated, hence why he was having to finish his potions before he could head to the Great Hall for dinner. Under normal circumstances he would simply miss dinner and have the house-elves bring him something, however, Dumbledore had requested his presence at Grimmauld Place afterwards.
He growled a little at the thought that Sirius Black was still haunting him, despite his deceased state. Unfortunately Severus was more than used to his past haunting wherever he went. The tattoo on his left arm, for example. That was a mistake he would have to live with for the rest of his life, no matter if Voldemort lived or died. It was in the very fabric of his skin and he often worried whether or not it had made its way into his soul.
Self pity, he sneered at himself, what a wonderful way to spend the evening. Melodramatic self pity, just to make it more enjoyable.
He rubbed a hand over his eyes and forced himself to focus. The dull light in the dungeon was, at most times, a blessing. Severus had no inclination to brighten the place up, or make it seem welcoming. The last thing he wanted was for his students to feel at ease within the confines of his classroom. While the other professors seemed willing to let the children feel relaxed, he refused to give them that sense of security; a security they would not have when the left Hogwarts' protection.
However, at that precise moment in time, he was feeling distinctly disgruntled at the fact that he could not brew the potions in his own private laboratory. The dull light was more than enough for the student body to be able to make a good job of the simple potions they were required to brew.
Not that any of them seem to be capable of even that, he sneered.
However, more precision was required with the potions he was making for Poppy, and the lack of good lighting was making it difficult.
The sooner Lupin finds someone else to brew his potion, the better. Although, he conceded, he's better off with mine. Even if it does take up my entire laboratory once a month.
While most apothecaries, and even some potions masters, had no problems preparing the Wolfsbane potion in the same room as other potions, Severus refused to do so. In his mind, it only served to prove that most of the Wizards and Witches in his craft were not worthy of the title they held. The sensitive ingredients combined with the necessity for careful preparation made it an easy potion to get wrong, and inviting outside elements, such as other potions and their ingredients and smells, to interrupt that was unprofessional, and frankly, dangerous.
Severus quickly bottled the potions he had just finished preparing and glanced at the clock, realising that dinner would already be underway. He had had no intention of being on time as it was, so the fact that he could not have done so was of little consequence. He placed the vials in the box beside the other potions he had already prepared and closed the lid over the top. He would take them to the infirmary as soon as the skelegrow had finished simmering, which wouldn't be for at least another day.
Severus moved quickly to the doorway and headed down the hallways to the Great Hall, nodding at the Bloody Baron as he passed through a wall to Severus' left. It took only a few moments to arrive at dinner, and he quickly assessed that most of the staff were absent. Albus, Granger and Filius were at the top end of the table and Minerva and Poppy were at the other end, trying to completely ignore Sybill who was sitting opposite them. He knew that Seriya had arranged to visit her husband for the evening, not that he had particularly cared to be informed, simply that he had been in the wrong place at the wrong time. Where the others were, however, was a complete mystery.
"Ah, Severus," Albus greeted as Severus sat at the man's left, opposite Granger. "We were wondering where you had got to."
"I had some potions to attend to."
"They are taken care of?"
"I hardly think I would be here if they were not."
"Excellent, well, you are free to join us this evening."
"I wasn't aware that not attending was an option, Headmaster." Severus said through narrowed eyes, hating the smile that the headmaster was sending his way. He quickly filled his plate as Albus turned to Professor Granger and continued whatever pointless conversation they been having on his entering, and Severus began to eat his dinner.
"Severus."
He withheld a groan and turned to glare at the eccentric woman that had moved to sit at his right. He remembered Sybill Trelawney before she had got 'The Gift', and he had to say he rather missed the sarcastic Slytherin. They had never been friends, Sybill had been in her seventh year when he had started school, but she had always been a good sparring partner. The snivelling phoney in front of him was neither even a shadow of her previous self, nor worthy to have ever been a Slytherin.
"Severus, I have a strange feeling."
"How pleasant for you," he sneered. His patience was wearing thin as it was, and the fact that Granger was smirking at him was not improving it any.
"Not for me, Severus, for you."
He raised an eyebrow at her, but refused to comment. Not only did he not want to hear what she was about to say, but he doubted he wanted the rest of the faculty to hear it either. Sybill had a penchant for causing him embarrassment with her silly, whimsical 'predictions', and he was not in the mood for her to, once again, tell him that he would either be 'bitten by cupid's arrow' or 'eaten by the offspring of a hippogryph and a kneazle' within the next few days. Neither had happened the last time, and he highly doubted they ever would.
"Venus dictates that the night is drawing-"
"Given that it is currently after six, I would say that, yes, night is drawing."
He bit back a smirk as Granger snorted in her pumpkin juice, causing her to start choking. The fact that Minerva and Poppy were doing nothing to hide their laughter was not helping the young witch in gaining control.
"Please try not to die on us, Professor Granger," he drawled, "Sybill may see it as the night drawing to a close thus proving her prediction."
Sybill sniffed slightly and he rolled his eyes. Even as a Slytherin the woman had been prone to tears (only within the confines her own house, of course), the fact that she might as well be a Hufflepuff now was not an improvement to the situation. If there was one thing Severus hated it was crying without good cause. It was a futile endeavour that merely proved to decrease one's attractiveness and irritate those in the near vicinity. Nothing came of it, and he doubted that Sybill had a good reason. Perhaps if she had been eaten by the offspring of a hyppogryph and a kneazle…
He frowned when he realised that Sybill was still talking to him and sighed. He picked at his dinner and rolled his eyes before turning towards her.
"-passions of those around you. You really don't give yourself enough credit, Severus."
"If you've quite finished."
"Well, not really, there was the…" she trailed of at the look in his eyes and nodded with a nervous laugh. "Of course. I'm quite finished."
"Good."
Her turned back to his dinner, satisfied when he heard her moving away, and glanced across the table at Granger. She was trying to smother a smile and he glared at her, but she didn't seem fazed in the slightest.
As dictated by the fact that no one wanted to be cornered by Sybill, dinner ended quickly, and Severus soon found himself walking off the Hogwarts grounds with Albus and Granger. There was little talking, Albus had yet to tell him why his presence was required and Granger seemed distracted.
No doubt wondering how Weasley and Boy Wonder will take her news, he thought, his eyes darkening, as they were prone to when his thoughts focussed on Potter. He despised the boy. As much as he respected the young wizard for his talents, no matter how little faith anyone would have in that fact, the truth was, the boy was too…well, Gryffindor, not to put too fine a point on it. While he had the talent and promise to be the greatest wizard of all time, he had the common sense of a fly and the stupidity of selfless bravery. Severus had no doubt that if the boy put some effort into it, the intelligence he had hidden somewhere would take effect. However, the way everyone treated the boy, Severus had little hope that that would happen.
"Here is fine, Hermione," Albus said, as he and Severus stopped by a large tree. Granger had been so lost in her thoughts that she had continued walking. On hearing the headmaster's voice, she started a little and turned to face them with the look of someone who has just been abruptly shaken from a deep sleep.
"Sorry, Professor," she said with a smile, walked back a few steps towards them. "I was a little lost there." Albus nodded and within minutes the three of them had Apparated to Grimmauld Place.
The house, as it had been in Black's time, was still hidden from view. They walked towards it, and Severus found himself drawn to Granger as she began to fidget. He had seen the girl nervous to near hysteria before, not something unexpected of a perfectionist and over-achiever. However, she seemed nervous to a degree that he didn't think Potter and Weasley were worthy of.
Surely if she's friends with the fools, they'll feel nothing but happy for her. Well, perhaps not happy that she now has power over them. Although I doubt she'll actually use it, he thought with a sneer. No, he had no doubt that he would be picking up Granger's slack where the remaining members of the 'Dream Team' were concerned.
Severus was of the opinion that the faculty, in general, let the golden boy and his sidekick away with far too much. He, however, had no qualms at talking points at an increased rate to make up for it. After all, Albus would only find some way to give Potter points for some good deed or other by the end of the school year, thus taking Gryffindor into the lead.
They quietly entered the house and Severus took a deep breath, steeling himself for having to put up with Potter and the Weasley clan. Severus did not consider himself much of a snob, no matter what Minerva said, however, where the Weasleys were concerned, he had no problems admitting that he liked to sneer in their general direction. They had more mouths to feed that money, and they were far too…homely for his tastes. With that many, it was not difficult to see how they had managed to let those infernal twins turn into annoying pranksters, and the fact that the youngest male Weasley was best friends with Potter was reason enough to hate him.
He found Mr Weasley to be an intelligent man, with far too many annoying tasted, and his wife was an irritating, mothering busybody. The fact that both held him in the utmost contempt gave him no need to change his opinions. In fact, the only Weasley he had any liking for was the youngest.
Miss Weasley, while she seemed to like him as much as the rest of her family, was an intelligent, fiery young woman who he had a great deal of hope for. Assuming she didn't marry Potter and churn out the next hoard of snivelling Weasleys, Severus honestly thought she could go far. With the right guidance of course, and it was irritating that he was not in the position to be that guide. While he had tried to coax Minerva into doing it herself, the truth was that the woman had enough on her hands with Potter, Weasley and Longbottom in her House.
There was no question that the Gryffindors were, without a doubt, the most annoying house to deal with. The Slytherins, in their turn, were the most dangerous, the Ravenclaws the most obnoxious and the Hufflepuffs the most irritatingly weak. Because of this, and the fact that Miss Weasley was actually happy and doing well, Minerva did not have time to actually focus on her.
"Ah, Albus, Hermione, so good to see you!" Molly Weasley bustled into the hallway from the kitchen. She hugged Hermione and then glanced at him momentarily and nodded, with a tight smile. Severus smirked in amusement. "Professor," she said with tight lips.
"We're just finishing up with dinner, why don't you come through."
Severus stood back from the others as they entered the kitchen area. A large chorus of hellos echoed around the room, and Severus moved quietly into the corner as Granger was enveloped in numerous hugs. Albus made his way to the top of the table and sat down next to Arthur Weasley, instantly engaging the man in conversation.
While Severus was aware that he was not a particularly popular man, emphasised by the fact that he was an ex-Death Eater, and everyone in the room knew it, he couldn't help sometimes wishing that he had someone to greet him, to chat to him. However, this was not one of these times. Being greeted by a Weasley on friendly terms and then being forced to chat to one of them was not appealing in the slightest.
After dinner had been cleaned up, Hermione left with her friends, and he was happy to see the back of Potter and Weasley. Ginny Weasley followed them a few moments later, looking up and him and nodding her head. He inclined his head and smiled inwardly. The young girl, while she had seemed to still hate him at the end of the previous year, had always shown him an immense amount of respect, especially since he had saved her life the previous year.
A few moments later, the room was all but emptied only the eldest Weasley, his parents, Severus, himself, and Albus were left. Severus made his way to the table and sat next to Albus, nodding his head at Bill Weasley. While he maintained not to like any of the male Weasleys, Bill was the one he respected the most.
"We are just waiting on-" Albus stopped as the door opened, and broke into a grin. "Ah, Remus, here you are."
"Sorry, I'm late Albus," the werewolf said, taking the seat to Severus' left.
Severus glanced at the man with a frown. While he had never liked Remus during his time at school, and with good reason, he had grown to appreciate the man's company over the last few years, and what he saw concerned him.
While Remus had always been a slight man, he looked decidedly ill. His robes were hanging off his thin frame and his face looked eerily gaunt, the lighting in the room casting dark shadows under his eyes. He looked like the stereotypical werewolf, in fact.
Remus cast a glance at him and tried a smile, well aware that Severus' concerned gaze had been resting on him. Remus was one of the few people that knew the entire story where he was concerned and understood the lengths he had gone to. While he trusted no one completely, Remus was up there with Albus and Minerva as far as his trust went.
"We seem to have another leak," Albus said, getting straight to the point. While the two Weasleys seemed shocked and disturbed by the news, Severus and Remus had been the first ones to broach the subject with Albus.
They had thought, or rather, hoped, that when Vector had been dismissed, all worries of spying within the close contacts of the Order were gone. However, the mission that he and Remus had spent three weeks on recently had proven otherwise. While his position as a spy was moderately useful, he was often required to help the Order by other means, and going undercover with Remus had been the recent requirement.
"Are you sure, Albus?" Arthur asked with a frown.
"Quite," Severus replied as the Headmaster glanced in his direction.
"I'm afraid so, Arthur," Remus replied tiredly. The other men exchanged looks as Remus' gaze did not move from the table.
"Do we have any idea who?" Bill asked, leaning forward in his chair.
"No." Severus saw no reason to even pretend otherwise. They were at a total loss as to who was betraying them, and the three weeks investigation into the lower ranks of the Death Eaters had been absolutely no help whatsoever.
"I'm afraid we have nothing," Albus said with a sigh. "Voldemort is closing in, and our only hope is that he does not discover the only weapon we have before it is ready."
Severus raised his eyebrows. "You had better hope Professor Granger does not discover this either. And I highly doubt she would appreciate being thought of as a weapon, let alone our last hope."
"Indeed," Remus said. The other three men had been informed of the basic details of the prophecy and of Hermione's importance the previous night, and it seemed they were still unaware as to just how important the young woman would be to their success in the war. Severus only hoped that she was able to fulfil her roll, otherwise, the war rested solely on Harry Potter's shoulders, and, to Severus at least, that was not a comforting thought.
~x~x~x~x~x~
TBC…
Haven't been around lately as
notasalmon is up for a visit, and with work and college as well, have been a very busy Kyizi. Heh, that rhymes!Speaking of busy,
heliona and I have jumped on the fic recording bandwagon and have been working on recording our Draco/Ginny fic "What Stands Between Us". Is coming along nicely! So much so, that I went and ordered my own mic! Had to order a USB one though, because, for reasons best known to himself, Johnny (my laptop), doesn't have a mic inlet...bizarre.Anyway, have college work due in tomorrow (ARGH! Will never get it all done in time!), so I'd best off. Hope you enjoy the update!
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New chapter! Squee! Off to read now. :D
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