Chapter 2
Author's Notes: I need a really high quality beta reader. I have never been able to successfully get a story past the folks at Ashwinder and I'd really like to. If you're interested, and good - and they have alarmingly high standards of where commas should and should not be - let me know.
A month later, surrounded by irate Centaurs in the Forbidden Forest, concerns about her love life were the farthest thing from Hermione's mind.
"You told us they would not curtail our freedom of movement," Firenze stated, nostrils flaring. Several other Centaurs stamped their hooves in agreement. "And yet humans from your Ministry come here and tell us we can no longer feed in the west quarter of our forest."
"They should not have told you that. You have rights that they cannot infringe upon; the Magical Creatures Act protects you." The Centaurs nodded in agreement. "But I am not your lawyer. I work in criminal defense now. Mildred Muckridge is head of Magical Creatures." At the name of her successor, the group started stamping their feet once more. Clearly Mildred was not doing her job. That revelation was both surprising and frustrating. It looked like she would be seeing a lot more mornings like this one, if that was the case.
"You swore to fight for our rights, Hermione," Firenze said solemnly, staring at her with his large, earnest gaze. "You cannot abandon now us now when the Ministry seeks to undo all of the good work you have done."
"I will speak with Mildred, I promise."
"That is not enough. They will not listen to anyone but you."
Having fought for recognition all her life, a small part of Hermione was thrilled by the compliment Firenze paid her, and the faith the Centaurs had in her. Mostly, however, she was frustrated that they didn't understand that this wasn't her job anymore. She was a lawyer, not a lobbyist.
"I will speak with Mildred," she repeated, raising her voice to silence their unhappy hooves, "And if matters do not improve I will bring this to the Minister himself." That at least earned her a few cheers. "Now, if you'll excuse me, I promised my daughter I would visit her today, so I am going to the castle now." It was always best to alert the Centaurs to her movements. They had the sentience of humans, but they did tend to spook like horses if she failed to warn them of her departure. She bid Firenze farewell, but as she moved away, she heard hooves behind her.
"Madam Granger?" She turned to find Victone, one of the younger Centaurs behind her. "Could you take a message for me to the castle?" Hermione nodded her acquiescence. "Could you tell Professor Longbottom that the foxgloves are in bloom? He asked me to inform him, but with our movement so limited..."
"I will tell him Victone." The Centaur nodded once before galloping back into the forest after the others. Hermione let out a sigh. It had been a long morning. She had received five urgent memos on her desk within five minutes of arriving at work, and the patronus of both Professor McGonagall and the new Care of Magical Creatures professor to warn her of a potentially explosive situation in the Forbidden Forest. Everyone seemed to think that her current work - defending accused criminals before the Wizengamot - was insignificant if even the slightest stirring happened in the realm of Magical Creatures. Protecting their rights had been her life's goal and she was still entirely committed to the cause, but few of her colleagues or former clients seemed to realize that she had new clients who also needed her assistance, or other obligations that made it difficult to rush off to her old school at the drop of a hat.
Of course, she was thrilled at any term-time opportunity to see her daughter and she had made sure to stop by Hogsmeade on her way to pick up some chocolate treats for her. She was eager in to check in on Rose, whose letters had remained full of excitement, but who had an uncanny ability to hide her emotions behind chatty words and a bright smile. Her daughter was more like her than like her father, and Hermione remembered how difficult she had found her first few weeks at school.
When she arrived at the main doors, she was surprised and delighted to spot Neville almost immediately.
"Oi, Hermione! What a surprise!" He grabbed her in a huge hug that lifted her off the ground and made her feel half her age. Neville had aged well, his teenage pudginess turning into muscle over the years. Not to mention, his imposing height of well over six feet, he made Hermione feel like she was just eighteen again.
"I had to address a problem between the Ministry and the Centaurs," she explained as he set her down. "And I thought I would take the chance to visit Rose. And it is wonderful to see you!"
"You will be delighted to know, Miss Granger, that your daughter is equally as impertinent and precocious as her mother." The unmistakable voice of Severus Snape drawled from behind Neville, and for the first time Hermione realized that her friend wasn't alone. Neville moved away to allow Snape to enter the conversation and Hermione was surprised at how well he looked. He didn't seem a day older than when she had last seen him, almost five years ago. If anything, he looked better rested, and the scar on his neck was barely visible.
"Professor Snape," she said with a smile, smoothing down her robes. Unlike Neville, she had not had the chance to replace their teacher-student dynamic with a more equitable relationship and so she immediately found herself nervous. "It is good to see you, Sir."
"The feeling is mutual." His voice suggested it was anything but. "Did you manage to calm the Centaurs or should we expect a full blown uprising by dinner?"
"I need to speak with my successor at the Ministry," she told him in what she hoped was an even and adult voice. "And hopefully the situation will be resolved shortly."
"I doubt it." He looked as if he couldn't be more bored to see her or hear about her work.
"And why is that?" Her hackles were immediately raised by any suggestion that she might not be able to do her job. Years of striving to impress the one teacher who did not think she was perfect in every way had ingrained a rather unfortunate habit of getting defensive at even the slightest of comments from her former Professor.
"Miss Granger, do not lead me to believe you are still as naive as you were when you were in school? It would hardly be befitting of a woman of your age." The all-too-familiar sneer on his face only deepened her frustration. And the unmistakable slight against her age almost sent her into a fit.
"Now, now Severus, Hermione doesn't need to talk business. She's here to visit her daughter! Hermione, I must say, Rose is the absolute image of you. And so bright!" Neville shot Severus a quick look of disapproval and put his arm around his friend, shepherding her towards the Great Hall where her daughter was undoubtedly having lunch. "Let's leave Severus to his meeting with Professor McGonagall and you and I can find Rose." With one quick warning look over his shoulder at the potions master, Neville escorted Hermione away from Severus so smoothly that she didn't even realize she hadn't said goodbye. "Don't mind him, Hermione," Neville said. "He's a big fan of yours really, he just can't bring himself to show his more human side to anyone."
With those perplexing words, Neville pushed open the doors of the Great Hall and one hundred eyes landed on her with an audible gasp. Hermione heard whispered cries of "It's her! It's Hermione Granger! Harry Potter's friend!" from almost all sides and then the absolutely beautiful sound of her daughter's voice shouting "Mum!" as her daughter rushed into her open arms. As she kissed her daughter's head, welcoming the feel of her tiny frame against her, her encounter with Severus Snape disappeared from her mind completely.
"It is so good to see you," she told her with a bright smile. Her smile wavered slightly when she felt her daughter grip her even tighter, even as Hermione moved to let her go. "I brought chocolate for you," she whispered into Rose's hair. "And you and I are going to find somewhere quiet and have a good chat." At the news that her mother wasn't about to disappear immediately, Rose relaxed her hug and looked up at her mother with big, baleful eyes. Hermione was immediately grateful for the Centaur emergency that had called her to Hogwarts that morning. It seemed Rose wasn't as well adjusted as her letters suggested.
"Come on," she said with a big smile, eager to soothe her daughter's nerves. "Let's find somewhere better to talk." She took her daughter's hand and straightened up. Turning around, she ran smack into that last person she needed to see again, Severus Snape. She almost lost her balance, but steadied herself as Snape looked on with a visible sneer.
"Miss Granger, sorry as I am to interrupt this touching scene, Minerva has asked me to escort you and your daughter to her office immediately. It seems the younger Miss Granger is exactly like her mother - in trouble already." Hermione felt Rose's grip on her hand tighten. Drawing herself up to her full height - still far too petite to be imposing to a man like Professor Snape - she nodded quietly and ushered her daughter out of the Great Hall. She gave Rose's hand a quick squeeze before replying.
"Certainly, Professor Snape," she said calmly as the Hall doors closed behind them causing a chorus of disappointed sighs from their captive audience. "Although I do not need your help finding the Headmistress's office."
"It seems I have no choice but to accompany you. Minerva has requested my presence at this meeting also." His voice expressed his frustration at the inconvenience. Hermione resolved to pay no further attention to him.
Hermione gave her daughter a reassuring look; if Rose was as similar to herself as Professor Snape had suggested, she doubted her daughter was in any real trouble at all.
The three of them walked in silence through the corridors, with Snape occasionally scowling at passing students, who visibly quickened their step at the sight of their feared teacher. Hermione tried not to be offended by her former professor's easy friendship with Neville, when he wouldn't even look at her. She wasn't his student anymore! She was almost forty years of age and she had spent the past six years of her career helping men just like him - men who had been viewed as killers by the wizarding world - fight for their freedom. How could he not appreciate that, even if she had been too young to help him when he had stood before the Wizengamot nineteen years ago?
She hadn't realized she was staring at him until he turned around and shot her a particularly stinging sneer.
Snape mumbled the password ("Glenmorangee") and they ascended quickly into the lush, red office of Minerva McGonagall.
After the usual expression of delight at seeing her, and remark on how the years had flown (which earned an eye roll from Professor Snape), Minerva got down to business. By now, Rose was white as a sheet, and no manner of soothing words or confident smiles from her mother could bring the color back to her cheeks.
"It is very fortunate you could join us here today, Ms Granger. It seems Rose has been in something of an altercation with one of Severus' students." That explained his presence, at least. "Amalia Thorpe. A cousin of Greggory Goyle, actually."
Why wasn't Hermione surprised? She looked at Rose questioningly.
"What happened Rose?" she asked softly. Her daughter just shook her head. Snape snorted.
"How bizarre for anyone related to Hermione Granger and Ronald Weasley not to leap at any invitation to speak," he drawled. Hermione ignored him.
"It's ok, Rose. You can tell me and we'll tell Professor McGonagall together." Snape raised an eyebrow at Miss Granger's transformation into a clucking hen. The younger girl whispered into her mother's ear solemnly as her mother stoked her back.
Miss Granger was both different and the same, he noticed. She was no longer eleven years old, hand waving in the air. She was a grown woman, much in the same way Neville was a grown man. And she was also a mother, and one who chose to wear her maternal instinct on her sleeve. He had read of her exploits in the Daily Prophet and had assumed her the consummate career woman, particularly after she divorced that imbecile Weasley. He had not expected her easy relationship with her daughter, or the way her offspring looked at her as if she could solve any problem in the world. He should, of curse, have expected it. She had mothered Weasley and Potter since the day they became friends. It was strange to see her now, grown-up, so comfortable in her own skin. She did not need to wave her hand in the air to command attention now.
No, seeing her next to her daughter, it seemed that she had passed the know-it-all torch on to Rose. The comparison wasn't entirely fair, he conceded, as the younger Miss Granger was far less obnoxious than her mother had been at eleven. She probably had less to prove; being the daughter of two celebrated war heroes must be easier than being a Muggle-born in a strange and prejudiced world. But Rose did have her mother's brains, and unfortunately, her father's temper.
"Rose tells me Miss Thorpe was calling her names because..." Snape was surprised at her nervous pause. "... because her father and I are no longer married." Rose nodded in confirmation. Severus sighed to himself. The theatrics of youth were more than his temperament could endure. As much as he wanted to be surprised at the behavior of one of his Slytherins, he couldn't bring himself to expect much more of Amalia Thorpe.
"Severus, it seems we will need to speak with Miss Thorpe once more." McGonagall's voice had a smugness to it that he did not appreciate. She was, of course, delighted to discover that her favorite Gryffindor's daughter was innocent, even if the child herself was a Ravenclaw.
"Of course," he said. "Perhaps Miss Granger would benefit from a detention, Headmistress? She needs to learn not to lose her temper at every foolish insult."
For a moment Hermione thought he meant her and she was immediately transported back to her school days and the shame such words would have brought her. Shaking herself back to her senses, she realized he meant Rose.
"Granger-Weasley, Professor Snape," she reminded him levelly.
"Ah yes, how could anyone but Ron Weasley be the father of a child with such vibrant hair." His tone managed to turn the adjective into an insult and Hermione felt her pulse quicken. All too painful memories of his ruthless comments about her teeth in her fourth year flew to mind.
"That's enough, Severus," Minerva warned with a tired look. "You may return to your classes and I will let Hermione and Rose continue their afternoon without interruption." Snape nodded curtly, shot Hermione one final sneer and then swept from the room.
"Old habits die hard, Hermione," Minerva said, noticing her former pupil's furrowed brow. "It took Severus five years to consider Neville Longbottom anything but a former nuisance and he was a fellow member of staff. I'm sure seeing Rose in his classroom has brought back... memories."
"Memories?" Hermione wondered aloud.
"Now, now Hermione. Lets not pretend I'm ignorant to the relationship Severus had with the three of you when you were students. Stealing from his stores? Setting him alight?"
Rose gaped at her mother, who blushed scarlet.
"We all knew. Severus too," Minerva continued. "You wounded his pride, Hermione. Severus' emotions have always had rather impressive stamina."
Hermione nodded somberly. It would not do to talk of Professor Snape's past around her daughter. Stories of the war trickled into her children's lives slowly, if she had any say in it. Only with the hindsight of parenthood could she appreciate her mother's claim that she had been too young to even dream of the horrors she had faced.
The usual pang of sympathy sprang into her chest as Hermione contemplated Snape's personal horrors, and how far they outstripped her own. But Professor Snape the man was far less easy to sympathize with than Severus Snape the love-lorn double spy. For now, she was content for Rose only to know Professor Snape the teacher, even if he was an unnecessarily cruel git. Hermione knew she would have more sympathy for him if he didn't insist on verbally abusing her daughter. She could forgive his treatment of her - as Professor McGonagall's words had shown, she may have deserved some of his wrath - but her maternal instincts would not allow her to forgive any slight against Rose or Hugo.
"If you don't mind, I think I'd like to talk to Rose," she said, emerging from her thoughts. Professor McGonagall nodded and waved her favorite former pupil away with a smile. Rose needed her mother now, Minerva would have plenty of time to coax Hermione back into her office for tea and catching up at a later date. "You are excused from classes for the afternoon, Miss Granger-Weasley. Be sure to get your homework from your classmates."
"Of course." Rose had at least regained her voice and gave the Headmistress a small smile, eerily reminiscent of her mother at eleven years of age. "Thank you Professor McGonagall."
Minerva could understand Severus' mixed feelings toward the child. Aside from her flaming red hair, Rose was the image of her mother. She was bright, precocious and fragile, just as Hermione had been before she had found a place for herself with Potter and Weasley. Minerva hoped she would find cohorts soon, for her sake. She also hoped Severus would get past the twenty year grudge he had against Hermione Granger. He and Potter had arrived at a civil relationship, and she knew Hermione and Draco worked well together at the Ministry. For a man in his fifties, Severus Snape could be positively childish and he was doing himself no favors, cutting himself off from someone like Hermione who had always seen the good in him.
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