2. Her Promise

There was something about the second floor of the castle and Gargoyle Corridor which excited her. She had fond memories of visiting Dumbledore usually for praise following whatever success they'd achieved making steps towards defeating Voldemort. She recalled with great fondness the way Dumbledore always held the room; the way his face lit up as they entered and he beamed so proudly at them. She also recalled one of her last visits to his office with less affection. He was weakened then, but his mind was more focussed than ever. She recalled the piercing blue of his eyes as they locked onto her, the clarity in his voice as he made her privy to one of his more complex plans. Her heart had felt as though it plummeted in her chest as he had told her of his plans and her role in them. Dumbledore had given them all instructions, made them all pawns in his complicated game of chess with the Dark Lord, and her role she felt, was still incomplete. Yet she knew not how to complete the task as he had never explicitly told her what is was. He was a complicated man she mused and wondered whether he actually knew how many plans he had laid and how many of them were backups in case one of his soldiers failed.

'Now Miss Granger, I know that this is a lot to take in,' he had said, his blackened hand contrasting greatly with his white beard as he stroked in methodically. 'I know that you must have many burning questions but I am afraid that I cannot tell you more than I have. One day this will all make sense to you my dear, and I hope that you will look back at this moment in many years with great fondness. You have an important role to play Miss Granger and you will continue to play it far beyond the point at which you think you have achieved it.'

'I don't understand Professor Dumbledore. Why?'

He smiled then. A warm smile that lit up his face. 'The why is not important. A wise man once told me that it is not our intentions which define our success, rather the intentions of our response to it.'

Hermione's brain pondered this seemingly paradoxical notion, and she endeavoured one day to fully understand its meaning.

'Miss Granger, do you know what is required of you when the time comes?'

She nodded.

'And you understand that you must not tell your friends of your intentions or anybody else for that matter. Your mission will only begin that day and there will be a time, much after I am gone, that you will need to play your part once more.'

Again she nodded, unsure if she fully understood.

The gargoyle entrance spun slowly in the present, breaking her memory of that day. She watched in awe, still after all those years, as a majestic spiral staircase was revealed. She heard McGonagall before she saw her, humming a soft tune, her Scottish tones rich and welcoming.

'Ah Hermione,' she greeted warmly, pulling the younger woman into a tight embrace. She smelt of lavender and Hermione had come to enjoy the scent. Ever since the end of the war and following their many meetings at The Burrow, McGonagall had taken to greeting her like this every time. Hermione got the impression that the woman was almost reminding herself that the golden trio had made it, her physical touch seemed to be a way of confirming that they were real, they were still there.

McGonagall appeared to radiate as she pulled away from Hermione, much as Dumbledore had done before her. There was something about the power which the office held that transmitted through and radiated out of its tenant. The Headmistress had not changed through war. She still wore the same green velvet coat atop of a black dress, the only sign of age a small burn mark on the cuff of the right sleeve, which Hermione knew was a mark from the final battle. She knew that the Headmistress would undoubtedly be able to remove the mark if she so wished, thus she wondered if she had kept it as a physical reminder of all that they had endured.

'How are you dear?' McGonagall asked as she ushered Hermione to a small red chair opposite her own. 'I know we haven't had much chance to catch up since you've been back, Merlin its November and I think I've spoken to you once!'

Hermione smiled. She hadn't expected daily brunch with the Headmistress but she admittedly did imagine that the she would've made more of an effort to ensure that she had settled back in to Hogwarts ok.

'I'm fine,' Hermione finally conceded. 'I mean it's a little difficult being back, the memories and not being with the boys. But you know, I have Ginny and that does help.'

McGonagall looked over her half-moon glasses and observed Hermione. She was no longer young lady with an insufferable desire for knowledge, she had matured into a woman, a twenty-one year old who looked in all honesty absolutely absurd in a school uniform. She contemplated for a moment suggesting that Hermione opt for plain robes but quickly decided that the younger woman would not want to stand out.

'It's different is it not,' McGonagall probed, 'being back here now, after all this time?'

Hermione nodded. It did feel different. She felt different; no longer a little girl. She was back to complete what she started but she felt as though she were experiencing it all for the first time.

'And how are your lessons going? Passing with flying colours I assume.' McGonagall almost continued to talk, as though the question were rhetorical but Hermione's sigh suggested that it was not. She watched as Hermione pushed a long brown curl out of her eyes in frustration. 'What is it dear?'

'Well it's funny you should say that,' Hermione began. 'I've literally just got out of Professor Snape's classroom, where he kindly told me the exact opposite. He informed me that my essays are merely acceptable and that I should sort it out.' Her repetition of his words was mimicked in such a Snape like drawl that Minerva couldn't help but smile.

'I see Severus hasn't lost any of his charms of late then.'

'I just don't get it Professor. I thought that after all that transpired, he would be a little…' she trailed off. What did she really expect? Trelawney like potions lessons with a bubbly great bat stood at the front. Of course he wasn't going to be different. He hadn't gained anything from the war, other than harsh criticism for his duplicity and the world knowing his business. As he had lain on that floor and told Harry to take his memories, not expecting to survive, Snape had unwittingly shattered his dark illusion by revealing a history of torturous love. Those closest to him now knew his darkest secret and Hermione was sure that he wished he could erase it from all of their memories.

'Severus is complex man,' Minerva began, sensing the girl becoming lost in her own mind. 'Yes, he did a wonderful thing all those years ago and his selfless actions saved many lives. But Hermione, he is still the same dark and brooding man, granted he has a soft centre now that we all know, but he is nonetheless a damaged man. He suffered more than you or I could ever imagine playing puppet for Tom and Albus.'

Out of the corner of her eyes, Hermione was sure she could see Dumbledore's portrait's head droop. Was that shame?

'I know,' Hermione conceded. 'To be frank, I don't care how he feels. I just care for how he makes me feel and today, he made me feel dreadful. He told me that I had no chance of working with him on brews for the infirmary unless my essays improved. I mean, this extra work was the only reason I came back for Merlin's sake.' She could feel herself becoming angrier by the second and the Headmistress sensed her magic rising inside her.

Minerva sat forward in her chair, her face now set into a serious expression. 'I hate to say it Miss Granger but Severus does have a point. You must focus on your studies and not let everything you have worked for go to waste. I know it must be hard coming back now, you are years ahead of your peers and life here as you know it has changed. Just promise me dear that you will put everything you have into your next assignment and in return I will ensure that Professor Snape allows you to work with him. He will have no choice I assure you!'

Hermione nodded, managing a half smile. She knew that the Headmistress only wanted what was best for her and she also knew that Professor McGonagall could play Snape as well as anybody else.