No White Flag
* * *
I do not own these characters. They belong to Headmaster Rowling. No profit is ever being made from this. Please, don't sue me. No infringement intended.
* * *
"Don't turn around. And don't say anything, Professor. I know you think I'm a show-off and a stupid, little girl," she screwed up all her courage, "but I just wanted to say that you were the best teacher I ever had. It was because you were hard on us." Hermione found a lump in her throat, tugging at her. Professor Snape was standing less than ten feet away from her, but he felt miles away.
Too far away, she thought suddenly. It didn't seem at all strange to her to want closeness from him. Possibly it was because she never had it from him. Possibly she desired it from him. His body close to hers, finding solace. She wanted him to pivot in that grand way he had. She wanted him to come to her, bruising her lips with his. She wanted him to want her.
It was obvious he did not want her, when he did not turn from the small window he was looking out or speak; she turned and raced out of the dungeons.
Outside Gryffindor Tower, she sat down on the stone floor. The Fat Lady eyed her curiously. You really are a stupid girl, Hermione. You did tell him not to turn around. She stood up, straightening her uniform and robes. But he didn't even scold you. He didn't even acknowledge you. You are an annoyance, not even enough to register a comment back. At this, pain contorted her face, bleeding down her body.
Having choked out a few tears, she felt a little better after the realization. After all, tomorrow was graduation, and she wouldn't have to embarrass herself any further in front of him.
"Password?" The Fat Lady said, still watching her with raised eyebrows.
"Hippocampus."
The door swung open and Hermione climbed into the common room. Finding it too noisy, she went up to her private room. Once inside, she dropped her books and fell onto the bed. Crookshanks made a soft meow before settling down next to her. She fell asleep to the sound of his purring.
* * * *
She hadn't made a sound when she left. He was surprised not to find her standing there when he swept around dramatically. He fully planned to berate her, slipping in a compliment to her. He didn't want her to think he hated her completely. He didn't. He only hated who she chose to associate with.
Saint Potter. Dumbledore's golden boy.
He never thought much about Potter's skills. He always had his nose in everyone else's business. His mind never stayed focused on anything, not even his Quidditch game. Severus knew there was talent in the boy - he had witnessed it countless times – but his stubborn refusal to keep his mind where it should be had gotten him in so much trouble.
How many times had he suffered through the stench of Potter's botched potions? How many times had he caused mayhem with his wand? What drama could the brat get into this year? What rules would he break? How could Snape keep him safe?
Now that the Dark Lord's threat was increasing, Potter was in even more rattlebrained. He sneered. Potter. Reckless like his arrogant father. He was important, nonetheless. Remember that, Severus.
He scolded himself harshly: for jeering Potter, but mostly for ignoring the girl. The most brilliant girl he had ever taught. A girl, who in her second year at Hogwarts, had manage to brew a potion not taught in the 8 years at the school. A girl with a thirst for knowledge, a hunger for excellence. That made her a danger in itself. She was the only one he could talk logically with regarding potions and their formulas.
It wasn't that he was ignoring her. He just had no idea how to respond to such compliments. He was harsh not only to propel students to excel in potions, but to keep himself from caring too much about them. It was a fatuous thing to him, really. He wasn't one to run from anything. He was still at Hogwarts. That said something.
It says that you blew your cover, Severus. You could not hold your own.
Frowning, Snape sat down behind his desk. Looking under a few papers, he caught sight of the book he was looking for. "Accio book," he whispered.
Suddenly, he didn't feel much like looking through the pages to find the recipe for a rare potion. He let his shoulders slump, leaning back against his chair. A deep sigh escaped him lips. He wasn't sure what was causing this trip down Memory Lane. Furrowing his brow, he slid off into nostalgia.
* * *
The Mark burned on his forearm. That familiar acidic reaction in his stomach traced a path to his throat. A small whimper formed in his esophagus. It burned deeper and hotter than it ever had.
There was also seething anger shooting through him.
He knows! This sudden thought shot adrenaline through his veins.
A dash of floo powder into the fireplace and Severus's head emerged from Dumbledore's fireplace. Albus, as usual, did not appear affected.
"I am surprised, Severus, that he has waited this long to call on you. Are you sure you must go?" Albus lowered his head to peer into the younger man's eyes.
Severus smirked. "Headmaster, you know very well that I am no coward. I will go immediately. I will floo to Hogsmeade and apparate to His side. Do not wait for me." His head gave a slight bow. "I thank you for your many kindnesses, Albus. I won't forget them."
He pulled his head from the fireplace, not wanting to see Albus's reaction. He was heavy-hearted to know that his time had come. He did not have any reason to stay. At Hogwarts or in this life, for that matter.
Another shot of floo powder, and he shot into the fireplace at the Three Broomsticks.
* * *
She pulled her necklace chain up and over her chin and fiddled with it in her mouth. She was staring at nothing. Her clothes were packed; Crookshanks rolled over in the armchair, dreaming away. She rocked back and forth with her knees pulled up to her chin.
"What do I do, Crookshanks?" He woke with a start. Curiously, he watched her. "I'm leaving tomorrow. Forever." Quietly, she added, "I'll never see him again."
The ginger cat meowed softly at Hermione. That was his final answer on the subject. He lay back down and closed his eyes immediately.
Hermione let out a sigh. Internally, she tried to decide if she would go down to the Leaving Feast or not. Harry and Ron would be expecting her there. She desperately wanted to say goodbye to all of her friends. There was one thing she didn't want to do: see Professor Snape. He would probably sneer at her or stride over to their table and chide her for her intrusion into his office.
She winced, chiding herself again. Instead, she picked up her copy of The Dark Arts Outsmarted. If she was going to be outside the walls of Hogwarts, she needed to be more prepared. She had most of the spells memorized, but it couldn't hurt to try and cram a few more in there.
Hermione settled into the crook between her two pillows and stared at the page. The black and white photo demonstrating the proper way to cast Rictusempra and its reaction. Hermione realized she hadn't taken in one word of what was said. Her eyes seemed to blur every time she tried to read more than one word at a time.
"Oh, come on!" She said to no one in particular. "I just want to read my book."
A voice inside her head said, No, you want to run away.
"Hmph. I've never run away from anything in my life." She stated, huffily before tossing her book on the end of her bed. She slipped on her shoes and robe and made her way to the Feast.
* * *
Minerva would not shut up. She was busy rubbing another Gryffindor House Cup win in. Severus caught Draco's eye. He didn't look too thrilled. Draco sneered at him. He knew exactly what had taken place nearly a year ago. Why he was not longer friends with Draco's father. Why he no longer seemed favored among the higher ups. Except bumbling Dumbledore.
His eyes shot downward in humiliation. The boy had been taught well. His father had a hold on him that no one else could possibly compete with. Whatever was his father's will, he would do. In fact, Snape was present when the boy turned 18 and taken the Dark Mark. It was Severus's greatest downfall.
He watched, terrified.
He could not save the boy; he was his father's son. He had tried to steer him in the right direction. Or at least away from that direction. He could remember down to the second the Mark burned upon his skin. His own Mark flared, then stilled. All Marks tend to burn when a new one is initiated. The stronger the wizard, the longer to dull ache remained.
It had been sunset at Malfoy Manor when the ceremony took place. Even Voldemort had been present, had given Severus the proud honor of bestowing this gift on Draco's flesh. Draco was marked as property of the Dark Lord. Afterwards, Severus could not enjoy the food the Malfoy's provided.
After that, Draco was never the same. His eyes always glittered with malice. He was always ready to strike out at Potter. Fortunately, they had a step up from the Dark Lord and his followers. Potter could not be killed by anyone but Voldemort alone.
Again, at the name Potter, Severus's calm face turned into a sneer. It was at that precise moment that Hermione Granger walked into the Great Hall. She was carrying herself in a manner that suggested it took all of her strength. She was not looking anywhere but ahead of her. She walked straight to the Gryffindor table, sitting next to the rest of her trio. She sat down just as stiffly as she walked in. He looked up from his dinner to watch her, see how she handled things. He could see that she was fighting to turn her head: whether it was to look at him or another student or teacher, he did not know.
A sudden surge of anger shot through his veins. It was familiar, comforting to feel it. It had been a long time since he had felt such violent feelings. Of course, they were directed at himself. The girl obviously felt rejected on some level by his silence.
He looked down at his hands. Severus realized he had not been breathing or eating since the moment she walked in. He took a deep breath.
There was a loud pop from the Slytherin side of the Hall. Severus's head jerked towards it. Draco was sitting between a guffawing Crabbe and Goyle who were playing Exploding Snap. Severus dared to look back at the Gryffindor table just in time to see Hermione quickly jerk her head in the other direction. For a second, their eyes had met.
He was nearly sure she was avoiding him and no one else now. A boy Severus had always ignored, out of lack of personality or otherwise, sat across from Hermione. He was looking up at Hermione with a peculiar expression on his face. After a few moments, he watched as the boy opened his mouth and said something to her. She looked up slowly, then around. She pointed to herself. The other boy smiled.
Severus could not bare to look. He returned to his food.
* * *
"I'm Terrence. Terrence Fides," the boy said, reaching out a hand to shake Hermione's.
"I'm Hermione Granger." She felt about eleven years old, trying to impress people the first days of school.
Terrence smiled in return. "I know. I have classes with you occasionally. Well," he said, looking up at the enchanted ceiling. The sky was sunny enough, and a few clouds dotted the sky. "I did have classes with you. Since we graduate tomorrow and all."
Hermione smiled sadly. How had she never noticed this boy before? He was strikingly handsome, with dark brown hair and the greenest eyes she'd ever seen. They stood out from behind thick lashes and strands of hair that had fallen into his face. She watched quietly as he raked a hand through his hand.
"What do you plan to do after tomorrow?" Terrence asked between bits of his steak and kidney pie.
Merlin, he was pretty. She thought to herself. She left her reservations intact. Shrugging, she said, "I don't know. I've thought about a lot of things, but it's so hard to decide." Whispering, she added. "And with You-Know- Voldemort still out there, I want to do something I can help out with."
Terrence winced at the sound of Voldemort's name. He leaned over the table, peering into Hermione's widening eyes. Barely above a whisper, he said "That's why I'm going to be an Unspeakable. I start training in a few months."
"Wow!" she exclaimed. "That's really impressive, Terrence!"
He blushed slightly. "You can call me Terry, if you want. All my friends do." He looked up at her tentatively.
Another pop from the Exploding Snap at the Slytherin table gave Hermione another chance to look at Professor Snape. He was whispering into Professor Dumbledore's ear. He looked extremely uncomfortable. He twisted swiftly from the Headmaster towards the teacher's entrance. In his haste, he stopped short. His body bent over ever so slightly, and his face contorted into pain. In the next instant, the mask fell back over him, and he appeared fine.
She hadn't even realized she had stood up until Harry looked at her, tugging on her arm. "Where are you going?" His face was an odd mix of curiosity and annoyance.
Her face was painted with embarrassment. Would they guess why she was suddenly eager to leave? She hadn't even meant to do it; it was just a reaction. She wondered if anyone else had seen it, if anyone had taken notice of him. Most people tried to avoid looking at Professor Snape. She was sure he could get away with murder under everyone else's noses. Well, everyone except Ron and Harry, who were always less than thrilled with anything Professor Snape did.
She sat down, straightening her skit and robes. "Sorry." Feebly, she added, "I got a cramp in my leg."
Hermione looked back to Terrence, who was reaching across the table for another biscuit. She watched him curiously. He seemed nice enough. She wished she had met him long before now. Ron and Harry were watching her with smirks on their faces. She rolled her eyes.
She glanced behind her quickly, looking for the Professor. When she could not find him at the table anymore, she made excuses that she had forgotten to return some library books to Madam Pince. Hermione's knee banged into the table as she stood up.
Clutching her injured knee, she looked at Terrence. "Terry, I was wondering if you.. maybe.. wanted to do something later?" She could feel the blush creeping up here face. Her ears felt as though they were boiling. She bit her lip, waiting to hear his response.
Terrence's face brightened suddenly, making him look even more attractive, if that was even possible. "I was going to ask if you want to do something! I'd love to!"
She rubbed her knee softly, feeling it groan beneath the pressure. "Good, I'll see you in the common room later, then?"
He nodded, and they made their goodbyes.
* * *
Severus's hand gripped the corner stone so hard his knuckles were white from the stress. The muscles in his chest were constricting tightly around his ribs. It took every ounce of power he had to not to let out a scream of pain.
He'd had these moments before, but never so strong. He knew he was sweating. His breath was coming out in ragged thrusts. His head was swirling with colors and torment. "Sweet Merlin," he barely whispered. He was out of breath shortly afterwards.
Her voice was soft behind him. "Professor Snape? Are you alright?" It was full of concern and barely concealed fear.
He screwed up his strength, turning on her. As he did, his disguise and disgust flooded over him.
"What do you want, Granger?" he growled.
"I've just told you," she said, dropping the emotion in her voice. Her chin jutted out in indignation. "I came to see if you were alright."
He sneered, "Come to get one last Gryffindor good deed in before you leave tomorrow? Save it for someone else." Inside, he screamed, You're not supposed to come to see if the horrible 'greasy git' is alright. Why did you come out here?
Hermione threw her arms across her chest, pursing her lips together. "Shall I get Madam Pomfrey for you? Or do you insist on collapsing on the floor?" She started to tap her foot, very much like she was scolding him. It made Severus want to laugh, but he shoved the urge down and walked over to her.
Inches above her face, he looked down at her. "Get back to dinner." Deliberately, he added "mudblood" with a smile.
For a moment, his jaw went slack. He could not believe he'd said what he had just said. Her eyes immediately teared up, sending a shockwave of guilt through him. After a moment of staring at her, he turned and walked as fast as the agony would let him. He took one last look at her. She was running in the direction of the Gryffindor common room.
* * *
Hermione only stopped running when the Fat Lady was in sight. After spitting out the password, with a rude look from the Fat Lady, she entered the common room. It was blessedly empty. Everyone was at the End of Term Feast.
Good, Hermione thought, they won't see me do this then. One of the tables had a stack of books in it. Hermione rushed to it and grabbed them, one by one throwing them all around the room. The book that bounced off the fireplace mantle started wailing. Another was bouncing heavily between the legs of a chair. Another began to screech.
Hermione threw her hands to her ears. The bouncing book came bounding toward her, determined to whack her in the shins. Before it could touch her, though, she punted it into the fireplace, where it's high pitched squeal melted into the fireplace.
She reached for her wand, pointing it at each book, yelling over their screams, "Finite Incantatum!" All but one book ceased its choruses. Hermione snatched the book and tossed it through the window. She ignored the faint cries of indignation.
She spun on her heel and headed for her room. Once up the stairs, she slammed the door as hard as she could. She paced the room back and forth, leaving grunts and curses in her wake. She gritted her teeth, not caring if it hurt.
Crookshanks came out from under the bed, hurtling himself out of Hermione's way. He stared at her from the corner of the room. His head tilted slightly to the side, he just watched. Then yawned. Then stared at her some more.
"I cannot believe – Who does he -" Hermione was so full of fury she couldn't even get a full sentence out. "A teacher for crying out loud! I should tell – He'll never know what hit – ARGH!" She grabbed her hairbrush off the dresser and threw it at the full length mirror. It gave a cry of pain before smashing completely. She sighed and cast Reparo on it. Not wanting to break anything else, she settled for kicking her four poster bed. One yelp of pain and a bruised toe later, she sank onto her bed, staring at the ceiling.
She breathed deeply. "1. 2. 3. Breathe in. 1. 2. 3. Breathe out." She repeated it so often; it became a mantra for the next ten minutes.
There was a hoot at her window. She flipped over to find one of the school owls sitting on her window sill. She flung her legs over the side of the bed and held out her arm for the bird. It held out the leg with the letter. Hermione reached in her pocket and gave the brown owl a Knut for its trouble.
The handwriting was not familiar.
Hermione,
You left in such a hurry at dinner that I was worried about you. I came to the common room, but could not find you. Just a charred book in the fireplace.
If you were serious about getting together tonight, I would very much like to. I will be in the common room, waiting.
Terrence Fides
Hermione just stared at the note. He was really interested in her. He didn't blush just because he was shy. He had sat across from her for a reason. He wanted to talk to her and get to know her, she was sure of it.
Terrence certainly was handsome. The combination of pale, but not too pale skin, his dark brown hair and green eyes did make her heart flutter and do a double take. He wanted to talk to her. He seemed almost amazed that she would. Why on earth would he feel like that?
She realized she was grinning from ear to ear. Her decision was cemented. Professor Snape, who?
* * *
It's dark. Too dark for Severus to see anything. White hot flames lick at the Dark Mark on his forearm. The pain seems to be traveling along the outline in the Mark. He can sense the Dark Lord all around him.
There is no time for him to react before a voice yells, "Stupefy!" Before the end of the spell spits out from the Dark Lord's lips, he's on the ground, clutching his knee and arm. His head in engulfed in sharp ache. This is it, he told himself. I always knew I would die at Voldemort's side, one way or the other. He stiffened his body, knowing what was to come.
Footsteps clopped closer and closer, mocking him. Deliberate footsteps that told him this would be drawn out. Not that he had expected anything less. After all, no one betrays Voldemort and gets away easily.
Bracing for the torment, he heard the Dark Lord hissed, "Crucio!" Every nerve in his body screamed out at once. He couldn't breathe. Severus felt as though he would rather die than submit himself to this torture. Suddenly, the nerves jumped even more. It was then he realized he had been screaming in agony since the moment the curse fell upon him. He tried to take a breath, but it felt like icebergs and flames all at once. It was evident than Voldemort was angry. The more Voldemort thought about the betrayal, the level of the torment increased. Every cell in his body seemed engulfed in the feeling. The curse was lifted quickly, but the remnants of it remained. His body kept twitching. The hideous face of the Dark Lord stared down at him as he twisted into fetal position.
"Surely, you didn't think I'd let you get away so easy? Your life will be forfeit before the end of this game, but I shall enjoy torturing you beyond even my own reckoning." Voldemort smirked, if you could even call what his skeletal face looked stretched to look like.
The Dark Lord lowered his wand between Severus's eyes, whispering, "Crucio!"
* * *
The sun was shining the next morning when Hermione woke up. Crookshanks looked up at her when she started rustling beneath the covers. He had been nestled next to her stomach, taking and giving her warmth. He seemed extremely agitated before he stood up slowly, arching his back gracefully. He dropped down onto the floor and strutted over to his food. He yawned before darting his face into the dish.
Hermione stretched her arms above her, arching her back much as Crookshanks had done. She propped herself up onto her knees and stretched in the opposite direction. She twisted her neck one way, then the other, popping the stiffness out of her neck. With a grand gesture, she tossed off the covers, stepping off the bed and into her slippers gracefully.
A brilliant smile crossed her face. Terrence kissed her last night. Today was graduation day. A new day, indeed, she thought pleasantly. Her thoughts drifted back to the dark haired boy she just met. It seemed unfair that she hadn't felt like this the entire time she had been in school, but now that she was leaving, she met that special person.
And he's a Gryffindor, she smugly sniffed the air around her. Her eyebrow shot up as she thought of Professor Snape. Shaking her head as she opened her trunk, she thought, No, I'm not going to think about that weasel.
She grabbed a light sweater, jeans, and a pair of socks before trudging down to the Gryffindor showers. After brushing her teeth and getting clean, she wandered into the common room to a bustling of seventh year students who were talking excitedly about graduating. Some of them had an overwhelming sadness to their speech, clearly going to miss the school that had been their homes for seven years.
She was among them. The familiar hallways and paintings always made her feel comfortable, if not a little bit adventurous. She had lost and found her courage, had her heart broken and broke a few hearts herself. She'd lost some friends, been petrified, gave her virginity away, and gotten a crush on a teacher. She'd definitely have to say it wasn't uneventful.
Hermione had met her best friends and squeezed so much learning into her head she thought her ears would pop off with the overflow with it. Now, she was getting ready to say goodbye. Possibly forever. Uneasiness crept into her stomach.
She could barely hear anything anyone was saying, to her or around her. She could only look at the fading red and gold carpet, and hope that Harry and Ron did not chose now to chat with her.
Spotting her, Hermione realized she wouldn't be so lucky. She slumped back into the squashy armchair, hoping they wouldn't be able to see the fear and regret she had. Even more so, she hoped they wouldn't ask her questions. She had a hard enough time keeping the Time Turner a secret, when she had to. If she hadn't, there's no telling what kind of curse was on it. Maybe she would have sprouted facial hair or ended up with no hair. You really couldn't tell with wizarding alarms. If she hadn't already known that, yesterday would have made that clear.
"Last day at Hogwarts! I'll be glad to have this day over." Ron grinned, his freckles dancing in their glee. "No more potions with Snape!"
Harry grinned so deeply that his eyes seemed to disappear into their sockets. "I just hope I made a decent grade. I won't be able to get into auror training without it."
Smiling sadly, Hermione just watched them. This was their game. They would share, she would listen. It was how it had always been. Sometimes, she even wondered if they needed to pass their classes if they would need her. She knew she was being overly emotions and girly, but it still bothered her the more years they had been friends.
She had always been a bit shy. Not even becoming prefect and Head Girl had changed that. She still preferred a good book to gossiping. Always wanted to go to class, rather than cut it with Harry and Ron. Sometimes, she wished she was a bit more rebellious, able to hurl insults with the best of them. She wanted to cut class and smoke in the girl's bathroom. She wanted to sneak out without an invisibility cloak or secret passage ways. She wanted to have her say.
But you had your say when you were in Professor Snape's office yesterday. She thought, bitterly, wincing. What did that get you? Heart break.
Her eyes glazed as she stared at the fire. In front of it was the library book she had kicked. It appeared to have crawled out of the fire and collapsed a short ways from it. Jerking her head to look at Harry, she said, "I'm sure you got a good grade. Remember what McGonagall said? That he wouldn't accept students he didn't think were up to par? You got in, didn't you?" She crossed her arms.
Harry looked at her curiously. "What's gotten into you lately, Hermione?"
"It's nothing, I'm just…" She swallowed hard. How hard could it be to tell them? Just say it; you've got a crush the size of a Hungarian Horntail on the most callous professor you've ever had the misfortune to learn from. Go ahead, Hermione, tell them. "I'm just sad. No more classes."
Sitting on the arm of the chair, Ron said, "Any idea what you're going to do after school? I mean, Harry and I are both going to be aurors, but you haven't said anything."
The question she dreaded from everyone. She had a few ideas, but the longer she entertained those ideas, the more she did not want to pursue them. Shrugging, she commented, "I'm still not sure. I don't want to be a medi-witch after all. An auror is definitely not for me. I could work in Muggle Relations, but I'd really rather not." She hoped she had satisfied them.
Ron appeared appeased with her answer. Harry did not. He watched her curiously. She knew he was scrutinizing her, possibly even trying to understand her. With occlumency comes a straight insight into the workings of other people. Almost as though he could read her thoughts. She looked away. The way he was watching her made her uncomfortable.
"Why did you run out of the Feast right after Snape?"
Hermione jerked her head towards Harry. She gritted her teeth. The truth? Or another lie?
"I told you. I had to return some library books I had forgotten about." She hoped he wouldn't pry anymore. Luckily, he dropped the subject, talking rapidly to Ron about the last Quidditch match of the season, when Gryffindor took the championship again.
* * *
Severus sat nearest Dumbledore at the Graduation Ceremony. Dozens of seventh year students milled into the Great Hall. Brothers, sisters, and parents of the graduates sat in the back of the Hall, watching their relative step up to the headmaster and receive their diplomas. Each student beamed at Dumbledore, proud of their achievements.
Hannah Abbot was the first. She walked slowly, smiling hugely to the Albus. She reached out to shake a hand to him. As he handed her the rolled up parchments, he leaned over and whispered to her. She grinned even wider if that was possible. One by one, the students took their final walk to him.
Severus felt a pang of sadness. Scanning the crowd, he watched as the class he sneered and leered at was taking their last steps. He was losing his favorite students. He hated to admit it, but that year's graduates had been the most challenging and possibly among the most gifted.
He saw Potter, Weasley, and Granger in the crowd. Since it was alphabetical, they were not sitting anywhere near each other. Abbot stumbled over to Professor Sprout, who was overly emotional. She was swiping at her face with her robes, trying not to cry about losing one of her favorite Hufflepuffs. Abbot hugged her tightly, on the edge herself. After she had dislodged, she made her way over to McGonagall and Flitwick. She'd be on her way to run by him any moment now.
One by one, the students made their rounds, stopping at Albus first, and him last.
Albus's eyes glinted mischievously as he called out, "Hermione Granger!"
Hermione jumped up, trying her best to not seem too eager or trip over her robes. She hugged Albus, Sprout, McGonagall, Sinistra, and Flitwick. She spotted Severus at the end of the line. Her body turned stiff, as though she someone had put a half-Petrificus Totalis on her. Their eyes met. Severus did his best to not let her know how much seeing her go was to him.
She held out a hand to him. "Professor Snape." She said cordially. Her eyes dropped down to her hand, as thought she didn't want to look at him. His jaw twitched automatically.
"Miss Granger. Congratulations." He said, just as icily. They shook hands and she wandered off.
As soon as he had commended Blaise Zabini, he flew out once the ceremony was done and the Graduating Feast had begun. He couldn't bare standing around in a room full of people he would, hopefully, never see again.
* * *
Hermione kept craning her head, looking for Professor Snape. It seemed he had disappeared. Why are you even looking for him? He hates you, remember? Mudblood.
Hermione looked down at her shoes. It was the last time she'd look down at her Hogwarts' uniform. A sudden wave of sadness hit her. The last time.
Tugging at her arm, Ron pulled her in for a hug. She let herself latch onto him a little roughly. She would miss seeing her friend every single day. When Ron let up, Harry grabbed her, nearly crushing her.
"I suppose we'll still be seeing each other." Harry looked as though he would cry any moment. Hermione felt herself falling over the edge and crying herself.
"I hope so." Her voice was unsteady.
Ron's voice cracked. "I'm sure we will. I mean we'll all be in the Order, won't we? I'm sure we'll see each other at Grimmauld."
But Hermione wasn't sure. If she went to Grimmauld, it meant she would see Professor Snape, and she wasn't sure she could handle it. I guess I could floo and find out if he's there first, but that would obvious.
"So.." said a voice behind her. She turned to find Terrence standing there, looking incredibly shy. Ron and Harry immediately took a few steps back. They were out of earshot, grinning widely at Hermione. She frowned at them.
"So," she said. "We've graduated!"
Terrence nodded. "I was wondering.. I mean, if you're not too.. I just.. Would you like to go out sometime?"
Hermione's eyes shot across the room. No Professor Snape. Her heart lurched, but she kept it steady. "I would love to, Terrence." She resolved to put Professor Snape out of her mind. Permanently. "I'm staying with my parents for a while. You will owl, won't you?"
"Oh, of course! I'll probably do it when I get home tonight." He blushed slightly, but he was still watching her.
"Then it's settled. I'll wait for it." She smiled heartily, and turned towards her parents. Who knows what will happen!
* * *
It wasn't a week out of school, when the owl arrived. She nearly jumped up and down like a school girl, until she saw the seal.
Hogwarts' School of Witchcraft and Wizardry.
"Why on earth are they writing to me?" she wondered aloud. She tore open the envelope and found Dumbledore's signature at the bottom.
Dear Hermione Granger,
It is with great honor and pride that I am inviting you to consider a career with us. It appears Hogwarts' has an opening for a Potions instructor.
I am most curious if you would accept this position. We are in desperate need of a Potions Mistress, and would be honored if you considered it.
I would have asked you in person, but I know that most students do not enjoy seeing their former Headmaster so soon after the school year has ended.
Please, take this letter with the utmost seriousness. I will await your owl.
Headmaster of Hogwarts' School of Witchcraft and Wizard
Chief Warlock of the Wizengamot and Chairman of the International Confederation of Wizards
Order of Merlin, First Class
Professor Albus Dumbledore
Hermione stared at the letter, rereading it over and over to make sure she had taken everything in.
Dumbledore wants me as Potions Mistress? Me? Hermione swelled with pride. Then a sudden thought. Where is Professor Snape? Surely he hasn't left Hogwarts'. He'll be killed immediately!
As she thought of all the logic for Professor Snape giving up Potions and teaching, she sat herself right down to start her correspondence back. She would definitely love the position and would like to know when she should be there. She had a ton of questions that she wanted answered, and she would definitely want to meet with Dumbledore as soon as possible.
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