Disclaimer: Anything you like probably belongs to JK Rowlings - thus the essence of fan fiction, and why this is posted at fanfiction.net.
Warnings: This fic sort of implies Snape/Hermione possibilities. Pre-anything, if it is anything. If even that bothers you.. then wow. Don't read.
Common Courtesy
"Good morning, Miss Granger." It rolled off my tongue naturally, as if I was on a morning stroll and ran across a friendly neighbor. Never mind that I would normally hex said neighbor. I scowled at myself. Had the Daily 'Profit' headline revealing my true position really effected me that much? Certainly it had long since stopped being an act. Certainly I had proved that much when I flooed to the newspaper and hexed that Skeeter woman for calling me a hero.
But she didn't hesitate.
"Good morning, Professor Snape." She tilted her head in polite acknowledgement, though her face was guarded. The little imp held my gaze steadily, scowl and all, till she and her body guards passed me. How truly Gryffindor.
That extra cup of coffee must have addled my brain. Or maybe it was the official absolution from my past sins from the Minister of Magic himself. Pah. Certainly not.
Still, at least it was the Granger girl. Merlin knows she's the only one I could say it to without her blundering the whole thing up with some stuttering, blanching confusion. Better her than, say, Longbottom. Of course, if it had been Longbottom, everyone would assume I had devised some new way or torturing him. Hmm. Something worth looking into, at least.
And naturally Potter just had to be there to witness me finally loosing my mind. Somehow, I'm not surprised. The little urchin probably caused it, one way or another. And he has the gall to look confused at my obvious insanity, glancing to his Weasley counterpart, and then both turning, immediately, to their Brain for an explanation. She had the tact to ignore this. At least until I was out of earshot.
The Professors should have separate halls from the students. Albus really asks all too much.
***
"Why him though, 'Mione." I could hear the Weasley boy whining from practically across the castle. Why he insists on butchering a perfectly good name is beyond me. I wrinkled my nose in distaste as I posted the grades next to the classroom door. Perhaps today the 7th years would enjoy a nice day for a pop quiz practical on laryngitis potions.
"Prolly any one else would be better!" I rolled my eyes. Weasleys have no appreciate for any art. Less in discourse even than in potions. Ronald Weasley should stick to grunting. At least Crabbe and Goyle know their place.
"You shouldn't take it so personally, Ron." Potter chimed in, no doubt simultaneous saving the western world from some catastrophe of epic proportions without batting an eye. "Besides, I didn't see you volunteering."
"I was already partnered with you." He whined again. Perhaps the Weasleys are related to Sirus Black. Or maybe that sort of advanced idiocy only develops when one hangs around a Golden Boy Potter for too long.
"Do shut up, Ron." The girl said forcefully. Quite right, I thought. Why someone like you hangs around with these numbskulls, I'll never know. The conversation stopped abruptly as they rounded the corner and I came into view.
In a few paces I glanced up from the wall, and she met my eye. "Good afternoon, Professor." The Granger girl said in the same tone of that morning. She added a slight smile, though hesitant. I applauded her, inwardly, wondering exactly what I had started.
"Good afternoon, Miss Granger." I said with a polite nod. She turn to check her grades, though I wondered why she bothered. Potter was watching me with a bemused expression, probably wondering if he ought to call St. Mungo's himself. Cheeky brat.
I glared at a passing Hufflepuff before turning back to the classroom.
***
"Can't they just pin something on him? Get him expelled?" The trio lingered just outside of the Restricted Section. I listened closer, feigning a perusal of the new Potions text Pince had procured for me.
"Merlin knows I'm used to watching my back around Malfoy, but its different now. His birthday has come and gone. We *know* he's marked, and I'm left.." He stopped as he saw me.
"Waiting for the axe to fall?" Granger finished for him, closing the partition that sectioned off the area.
"Good evening, Professor Snape." Potter said as I looked up from my book. His polite tone held a tint of curiosity: Would I answer as I had for Granger?
Well, would I?
"Good evening, Potter." I said flatly. He grinned at me, happily. Good god, the boy is as easy to satisfy as his mother must have been. Hermione didn't speak, but gave me that little smile, this time without hesitation. Weasley just looked pissed, and held up his pass to the section, as if I had asked.
***
They must have seen me coming before I noticed them. At any rate, it seemed eerily planned. Before I had even registered, in my pre-coffee befuddlement, which students they were, they spoke.
"Good morning, Professor." Almost in perfect synchronization.
"Good morning, children." I included a raised eyebrow into the package. After all, Gryffendor plotting, for whatever purpose, can not be condoned. After I spoke, I wondered if they would take my address as "children" badly. They were 7th years, and all that, but no. Hermione gave me her usual brilliant smile. It never failed. Every time I saw the girl in the hall, I saw that smile. I wondered, not for the first time, if I was some sort of project with her. It had been, well, quite a few weeks now, since this began.
One of them snickered at their cleverness. Probably the Weasley.
Later, just outside the staff room, a wandering Potter and Weasley used the same tacit on Minerva. She berated them for being saucy, but didn't take points. Potter walked off grumbling about the "King of Slytherin" having a better disposition than their own head of house. I didn't take points, because it was obviously temporary insanity.. or perhaps, because I liked the title.
***
It was one of the first actually nice days. Officially spring. Not that I cared, of course, I just thought the fresh air might do some good for my migraine. Potter and an assortment of Weasleys and crew were playing a "touch" Muggle American football. Some game that the Muggle Studies Professor had taught a few years back on one of Albus' spontaneous 'fun days' to improve morale.
Potter stopped and waved when he saw me near. "Hiya, Professor! Ouch! RON!" and fell in a heap on the grass. Jumping up he took off across the lawn after the red head, screaming, "You only tackle when I have the ball! And plus this is TOUCH football!" I snorted in amusement and sat under a tree.
After a bit, the game stopped in some kind of argument and Harry approached me at a jog, bending down with his hands on his knees, a bit out of breath. "Hey, Professor? We were sort of wondering if you might referee our game?" I glanced to the muddy group of Gryffindors behind him, who were looking curiously in my direction. Ginny Weasley lay on the ground as though dead, clutching the irregularly shaped ball to her chest. Ron prodded shoulder her with his shoe.
I suppose Albus would expect me not to let them kill each other off, though Merlin knows there are enough Weasleys to last several lifetimes.
"Alright, Mr. Potter. As long as my calls are respected."
He smiled. "That's fine Sir. I know you'll be fair - since were all Gryffindorks, anyway."
"Exactly." I smirked, and took his hand when he offered to pull me up. Simply out of politeness, of course.
***
"Good morning, Gryffindors." I said. The three were accompanied by a few others from their year. Longbottom nearly fell on his face in surprise.
"Good morning, Professor Snape." The three together said in our usual routine. If I said something to them first, addressing them together, they tended to answer together. Looking up from various separate conversations they still managed it. Of course, she followed it with her quick and easy smile, as soon as she looked up and caught my eye.
Certainly a smile was very rare on Harry, just mirroring whatever emotion he had been in when I showed up.
And Weasley never addressed a smile to me, though most of his greetings were sincere as would be with other teachers. Especially after the little game, in which his team won. Although, this time he had purposely left the "Professor" part out. I couldn't take points, on Slytherin principals, as he had timed it so well it was admirable. Little smug troublemaker.
How could she give a smile that genuine to me, day after day? One that reached her very eyes? Absurd. And you really couldn't help but to smile back.
***
"Hi, Professor." She said as she approached my desk, before class. This was new. She didn't seem to have a question. I lifted an eyebrow, but playfully. And she grinned.
"Hello, Miss Granger. How are you today?"
"I'm good, sir, and you?"
"Just fine."
Longbottom pulled her away by the arm, asking some inane question and pointing to a potion we had started last class, which was clearly the wrong color. She glanced back to me briefly, as he went on, with a humored smile on her lips and a small roll of the eyes at Longbottom. I leaned back in my chair with a smug you-take-care-of-it smile. She mock glared, and I chuckled at her. She smiled again, and turned back to Longbottom with the patience of a saint.
Even now, with my role revealed, points given fairly, and tone certainly not stricter than Minerva, no one had the presence of mind to treat me as they would their other teachers in the classroom.
Hermione excluded, of course.
***
"Hello Professor." She said quietly, as I stepped out of the entrance to Dumbledore's office. There was no smile today, and no Potter or Weasley. It had been a good 24 hours since they Harry had been taken, Weasley in tow.
"Miss Granger." I said, stopping her with my tone. I dropped my voice. How could one look utterly devastated and so statuesquely strong at the same time? "We're bringing them back tonight."
Her eyes lit up with hope, immediately, and then became somber when she realized that didn't necessarily mean alive. I watched her carefully for a reaction. After a moment, she smiled, a small sad smile. "Thank you, Professor."
I nodded, face impassive. Her eyes suddenly widened in worry. "Be careful, sir."
I smiled genuinely. "Thank you, Miss Granger. I will."
I don't know what it was. Maybe she really understood what this meant to me, going back into his den when I thought I was free forever. But she gave me a look I didn't quite recognize, and setting a warm hand on my shoulder, leaned up and placed a chaste kiss on my cheek.
Sounds ridiculous, yes, but it felt a bit like a blessing: A very needed blessing before battle.
***
The house was eerily quiet, though not in quite the way I had expected. I counted 7 dead Death Eaters before I found them, huddled in a corner, and gave a loud whistle through my teeth, signaling the Aurors entrance. Weasley looked up to me wearily, Potter's head cradled in his lap. I crouched with my wand immediately and scanned him, my chest tight. He was Alive; Simply in a healing sleep.
"Ennervate." I said.
Potter's eyes opened, blinking a shimmering green at me. He licked his lips "G'morning, Snape." He croaked, voice hoarse, spent from screaming under Crucio. His forehead was immaculate: his scar vanquished.
Never mind that it was well into the night.
Never mind that he had called me Snape.
"Good morning, Potter." I choked out, as I ripped up my sleeve to find only flesh underneath, and my eyes filled with tears I didn't know I was still capable of forming.
***
"Salutations." Harry said with a wide grin, pushing the side door to the Great Hall shut behind him, to muffle some of the applause. He nearly skipped past me, Order of Merlin, 1st class, attached to his dress robes. I shook my head in amusement because I knew that certainly wasn't why he was so buoyant. Ah, yes - finished with the awards ceremony while every other student had to sit quietly and watch for a few more hours.
I chuckled. Let the boy have his freedom. He had just killed Voldemort and lived to tell the tale, after all. I watched him wander, carefree down the hall towards the outside doors and the starry sky. It was especially strange to see him alone, without his friends, and more recently his entourage of renewed fans, and forgot to respond. He turned and called "And congratulations!"
Minister Fudge called my name from inside the Hall. The applause started.
"Thank you, Mr. Potter. You too."
A few minutes later I slipped outside, equally pinned, and sat on the cold steps next to him. We looked up at the sky in silence until Albus came and found us.
***
"Nameste, Professor." Hermione called as she slowed her run to a jog, in faint lip service to my position. I shook my head, knowing she'd do the same at every classroom door she passed.
"Granger, don't run! You could do with being late just this once."
She slowed to a powerwalk and threw a glance over her shoulder in... appreciativeness? Appraisal? Acknowledgement, probably - just that she heard me.
Never the less, she included the smile.
***
I caught her and Weasley, hand in hand, stepping out of an abandoned classroom at a bit past 3 A.M, a few days after the NEWTs. I sighed loudly from behind them and tensing, they turned to see who had caught them. She bit her kiss-swollen lip a moment.
"Good...morning, Professor?" she said with a hopeful we've-only-got-one-week-left-please-don't-take-points look. Weasley simply seemed content to take the punishment and be on his way. Who could blame him, really? What ever they had been up to was undoubtedly well worth it. She was well worth it.
My eyebrows were already up in Minerva's patented "I'm not amused" look, minus the pursed lips and tapping toe. It's the one thing she does better than I.
"Good night, Miss Granger, Mr. Weasley." I said, sending them back off to, hopefully, their respective beds. She smiled, fondly, when she realized I was taking no points. I was becoming soft, I knew, but it was a sight I hadn't been at the receiving end of for years. A maddening girl... woman. I'd never see her smile again in a few days, I thought suddenly.
"Weasley." I called. They turned back to me, half a corridor away. "You'd better do right by her." I growled out the warning with a harshly appraising look.
"I wouldn't dream of doing otherwise, sir." He said, every bit the determined Gryffendor. His face softened, and then he spoke again in quiet respect.
"Good night, Professor Snape."
I realized he had never before initiated any of the exchanges of daily pleasantries.
"Good night, Mr. Weasley." I said, resolving to shake that boy's hand at the graduation feast after all. In for a knut, in for a sickle, as they say.
He linked arms with her, drawing themselves closer together. As he turned she hesitated, catching my eye in a quiet understanding, a quiet thankfulness that confuses me still, and left.
***
"Hey, Professor." She said, early in the morning of her graduation in her starch white Head Girl graduation robes. "What are you up to?"
"I'm waiting to accompany the Headmaster to breakfast. How are you, Hermione?"
She smiled at the usage of her first name, a rite of passage used only on that day, and I smiled back, happy in that I had been the first. After the ceremony she would be free to address her teachers in the same fashion.
"I'm excited, and nervous." Both showed clearly and honestly on her face.
I shook my head, and touched her shoulder gently in a brief gesture. "Don't be. You'll do quite well." I may have meant tonight at her speech, but she knew I meant more, just as she had meant more. Her soft brown eyes reflected gratefulness for the praise, and then left mine and focused over my shoulder.
"Good morning, Sir."
"Why, good morning, Hermione. It's a beautiful day. And I must say you look lovely." Albus happily dropped a sherbet lemon in her hand, without asking. She smiled and thanked anyway, but turned back to me as she stepped away.
"Well, I'll see you later." And retreated, again with a smile. I nodded politely as she opened the door, spilling bright summer sun into the dingy corridor, and disappeared into the light.
Albus clapped a hand on my shoulder, and grinned as if he had caught me at something. It was embarrassing.
"I want that one teaching here." He said looking towards the door she had used. "What do you think?"
A million well used snarky remarks formed, but I resolved to answer honestly.
"You'd be lucky to have her." He popped one of those atrocious candies into his mouth and twinkled at me.
"I have to admit, though, Severus. My reasons are surprisingly less than academic, considering this is Miss Granger we are talking about." I looked at him, surprised, and he continued.
"She interacts well with certain staff members. Don't you agree?" He had the audacity to jab me conspiratorially with his boney elbow. I just gave him a pained look of disgust. His laughter peeled out through the silence of the stones.
"I don't believe that look for a second, Severus. You know, in just a few years our Miss Granger will be -"
I sighed loudly.
"- Quite the charmer."
"Albus...." I drawled in an exasperated tone.
"What?" He said in mock innocence, grin reaching his twinkling eyes "She's going into Charms."