Disclaimer: If you recognize it, it belongs to the goddess, JKR. Many thanks to Anna for the idea in the first place. A sequel to "The Potion Master's Dilemma."
I Did Not Count On HerAt last.
A moment to myself.
The last several days have been horrendous and now, at last, I have a moment to sit back and reflect on a school year that has been even more abysmal than usual.
As I sit back in my chair, an old relic of my days here as a student, and sip my cognac quietly, I still cannot believe that she managed it.
Then again, I did not factor in the possibility that a Muggle-born witch would single-handedly decipher my spell. No, the great Harry Potter…the Boy-Who-Lived would not have been able to figure it out. It was that Granger girl who figured it out.
And she never even mentioned it when I found her…
*************Flashback****************
I watched Albus fly through the Chessboard, carrying an unconscious Potter in his arms. I didn't want the wretched brat to die but no one asked him to save the Philosopher's Stone. I should have done that…should have seen that Quirrel was going to go after the stone. Damn shoddy of me. Now, I have to dispose of whatever is left of Quirrel.
Minerva was in the process of levitating young Weasley in order to bring him to the infirmary. There seemed to be an awful lot of blood although it was hard to tell what was blood and what was simply Weasley hair.
"I can't believe it," she muttered as she passed a shaky hand over her pale face. " He managed to get past my chess set. I just can't believe it."
Hysterical women, even mature hysterical women like Minerva, make my teeth ache.
"Will he live?" I ask sarcastically.
She turns to glare at me but she does regain her composure quickly. "Yes, he will live although he will have quite a headache for a little while."
She leaves and I sigh tiredly. This has been a hellish night. And I still have to get rid of Quirrel. Hopefully, there are only his clothes to deal with.
A slight noise makes me turn quickly. Sitting next to a smashed statue of what was once a huge knight on horseback is that Granger girl. For a moment, I cringe because I think she is crying but I quickly realize that is not the case.
Thank the stars…I don't think I could handle another hysterical woman.
"Miss Granger," I fold my arms over my chest. "Why are you still here? You ought to be in the infirmary with Mr. Potter and Mr. Weasley."
She turns to look at me and I am surprised to see there is no anger or fear in her eyes. There is a disturbing nothingness.
"I am not hurt," she replies quietly.
There is something not right here. The young girl has just been through a terrible ordeal. She should be upset. She should be angry.
"I can see that you are relatively uninjured, Miss Granger," I continue in a somewhat less harsh tone, "But I must insist that you see Madame Pomfrey."
Again, that look of nothingness.
I hold out my hand to her. "Come, Miss Granger. I will take you there myself if I have to. It is not my intention to leave you here overnight."
"What about Quirrel?"
"Quirrel can wait," I answer, a little shortly. Of course he can wait. He is dead, after all. Finally, she takes my hand and stands up.
"I apologize, Professor. I was just feeling a little shaky," she lets go of my hand, not as abruptly as I might have expected. "I will go see Madame Pomfrey now."
"No detours, Miss Granger?" I ask with a hint of mockery in my voice.
She smiles. That is much better than that blank expression on her face just a few moments before.
"No detours," she replies as she dusts off her clothes a bit.
She is about to walk out of the room when she turns to me again.
"It was a brilliant spell, Professor."
****************End of flashback*************
I take another sip of the cognac, relishing in how it warms my blood.
A brilliant spell. Yes, it was brilliant spell but she managed to think her way through it. No one congratulated her. Well, there was that announcement by Albus at the Leaving Feast but not one of her peers went up to her to tell her that she did a wondrous thing. And I would have thought the opportunity to lord it over the Potions Master would have been a thing most irresistible to all Gryffindors.
Instead, she stepped back and let all the attention focus on Potter.
But not all the attention was focused on him…
**************Flashback******************
I knew I would find her here. She is nothing if not predictable. So typically Gryffindor.
"Miss Granger?"
"Yes, Professor?" she looks up from the massive book she is reading…looks like a text on advanced Arithmancy. Heavens, that is for seventh years!
"I have recently discovered that it was you who deciphered the meaning to my protective spell."
She blushes but her gaze does not waver.
"Yes, Professor," she answers calmly.
"It is not in my nature to award points to Gryffindors simply for using their brains to some sort of capacity," I begin harshly. She tenses up almost immediately at the implied rebuke.
"However, I wanted to tell you that it was commendable work on your part," I finish in a softer tone.
"Oh…thank you, Professor," she says with some surprise.
"You will have a lot to live up to in second year, Miss Granger. Try to ensure you don't waste the summer holidays by prattling on the fellytone all day long," I say with dignity.
I can see that she is trying not to giggle although I have no idea why.
"I will do my best, Professor," she affirms with a smile. I nod and leave the library; Pince is glaring at me as if I have accosted her only daughter. Meddlesome witch.
Gryffindors. I will never understand them.
***************End of Flashback*************
So it is the end of the school year and I have a couple of months where I can think about how I failed in my self-imposed mission to protect the Philosopher's Stone.
All because of a Muggle-born witch.
I simply did not count on her.
The girl certainly has potential.
Pity she isn't in Slytherin.
Terrible pity.
A/N: I have missed writing about my beloved Potions Master. Can you tell?