He had not thought of Miss Granger in some time. Not true actually, he thought of her daily when dressing because the scars on his neck should have been fatal if not for her quick actions. But, those thoughts were fleeting, almost subconscious now. Of course, he heard about her from Minerva, order members, the newspapers. She was a part of the great Golden Trio, after all. But unlike the two male members, she had left Wizarding Britain. Australia first, to retrieve her parents (yes, he knew all details about that) and then to the Roman University of Wizardry for her studies. Good for her, he thought, as well as out of sight out of mind. He didn't want to admit to himself that he dreaded meeting her again. Their last "meeting" would inevitably be brought up and he would have to thank her for saving his life. Which he would do and try to be gracious about it but he didn't have to relish the opportunity. He'd rather not think on it and he found himself undeniably grateful that she had removed herself to the continent. Any chance meeting between them was unlikely. One day she would return and they would run into each other at an Order gathering or in Diagon Alley, but he hoped to be more prepared for that inevitable meeting given time. Otherwise, he chose not to think about it.
There were too many other things on his mind now that he was back running the school. Students, budgets, curriculum, pleasing the Board, the Ministry, the staff and the parents all at once. It was a juggling act to be sure but one he found he enjoyed. Any protestations to his return as Headmaster melted away once the offended party reached the grounds. His reputation had been cleared by the government and in the press once certain information was leaked. It was rather anticlimactic, really. He was still a source of interest and mystery to many and, yes, he did seem to have become the object of fascination for a surprising number of witches and wizards. A steady stream of rather personal mail arrived each week. After opening a few and getting the gist of them, he asked the castle to "redirect" them. Where they went he did not know nor did he care.
Public appearances by the Head of Hogwarts were required on occasion and though he enjoyed seeing old friends and acquaintances, he was not pleased by the fawning witches and wizards drawn to him by his newfound fame and position. It was difficult to dismiss these people without hexing the lot of them but he somehow managed. The patented Snape sneer was enough to run off most. A few words that brooked no argument dispatched the rest. He was still a foreboding - some might say terrifying - figure. What would he want with these people anyway? Fair-weathered friends wanting to latch themselves to him to raise their standing or would-be lovers willing to trade their physical affections for the same. Disgust and contempt were the only emotions he felt when approached by the like.
Minerva, in full mother mode, worried over his lack of a social life. Code for a woman, of course. But, he felt no compunction to enter into any such relationship. Yes, he was a man and had the same needs as any other but it was never fueled or inspired by a particular witch. In fact, he found himself rather disconcerted that while his libido was healthy enough when at Hogwarts, he was left cold before each woman he interacted with, regardless of any sterling qualities she possessed. He assumed, rightly so, that the traumas of the war years were too fresh and entering into even a casual relationship was premature at this time.
Perhaps misunderstanding his reticence for insecurity, Minerva - and other staff members - tried to assure him in their way that he had never looked better, had never been so pleasant and relaxed, and that the power now infused within him upon his return to the castle was positively electrifying. He initially believed these to be nothing more than pep talks but the look in some of their eyes told him they were being completely forthright. But, if he wasn't ready, what was the point? He was content with his life now, invigorated by it. If a relationship were in his future, it would happen on its own time. He felt no inclination to force or pursue one.
In the spring of his third year as Headmaster, the Muggle Studies teacher put in his notice. The ministry under the leadership of Shacklebolt, were looking for a complete revamping of the course. They had no actual thoughts to how it should be changed, only that it needed to instill a healthier respect for Muggle culture in a world still reeling from the reign of Voldemort. This was too much for Lavitius Lampley, he wanted a smooth road to retirement not an overhaul of his subject with assured constant input from the government. And so, this was how he found himself in need of a new Muggle Studies teacher for the Fall.
Clearly not an easy task. Within the Wizarding community, Arthur Weasley was considered an expert on Muggle culture and many of his understandings and associations were ludicrous. It had to be a Muggle born Witch or Wizard who was comfortable in both worlds. One that had been in Britain during the War so as to have context on the gravity of their teachings. And most importantly, it should be a graduate of Hogwarts. Some felt this was not absolutely necessary but he considered this requirement to be essential. The candidate must have a firm grasp of the dynamics between the Houses. And, he could sense the Castle wanted one of its own to return. Yes, it made the pool of possibilities much smaller but if you were going to do something, do it right.
Initially, Minerva had been suspiciously devoid of any suggestions. How very unlike her. But eventually she admitted that there was someone she thought a perfect fit but they still needed persuading. Unimpressed by the applications submitted thus far, he urged Minerva to convince them to interview and he would take care of the rest. Providing they were qualified, of course.
The next day she smugly entered his office and handed him an application announcing, "here's your new professor!" Raising an eyebrow, he scanned the page and almost dropped it to the floor once he saw the name Hermione Granger. He should have known.
His first reaction was panic. He covered it well but his heart was racing. He wasn't ready to face her yet! It felt as if she was the last hurdle to his recovery, meeting the brilliant Golden Trio member who had saved his life and then thankfully left him alone. He didn't want to owe anyone else, didn't want to feel some unrepayable debt hanging about his neck. But, before he could descend into a full blown panic attack, the forces of the castle flooded him with peace and assurance that this would not be the reality. Let her interview, it soothed, there will be no harm in that.
If he knew nothing, he knew he could not fight the castle when it was set on a course. Coupled with the fact that she was a perfect candidate, he turned to Minerva and said, "Set up an interview at her earliest convenience."