Headmaster Albus Dumbledore had demanded much of Professor Severus Snape during his tenure thus far at Hogwarts, but this was an unexpected request. Albus had insisted that he take his share of Muggle-born first years, and when Severus had opened his mouth to protest, Dumbledore had cut him off.

"Severus, please." The headmaster gave him a stern look. "At least one. Let me see," he shuffled through the files, "ah. Yes. Hermione Jean Granger. You are to visit her on August 3rd."

"Albus, you know my history in regards to a Muggle-born gi - " Severus began, but stopped at Dumbledore's kind, grandfatherly look.

"I do, Severus. I most certainly do," he said, meeting Severus' coal black eyes with his own twinkling blue ones. "But you have dodged this duty for years. It is 1991. Has a certain ring to it, does it not? The year you turn over a new leaf?"

"But I am the Head of Slytherin. Esteemed figures - Lucias Malfoy for one - have a deep-rooted prejudice in regards to pure blood lineage. His own son, Draco, is coming to Hogwarts this year and will most likely be sorted into Slytherin as the family of Malfoy Manor has been for decades - what will they say of me if they know of my visit?"

"Oh, this young lady is quite intelligent, and I know you will not linger post-completion of your required duty. It is a rather straightforward task." Albus considered Severus with the hint of a smile. "Though I must say, smiling every so often would be quite the improvement. You don't want to scare her parents."

"Albus - "

"August 3rd, 3 PM." Albus affixed Severus with his intense gaze, his voice holding a note of finality. He handed Severus the required materials and returned to sorting the Muggle-born first years' paperwork into stacks for his staff.


"What did you tell my wife?" Will Granger, his rumpled shirt untucked and auburn hair mussed, glared at the hook-nosed stranger as he held his wife's dead weight with some difficulty.

"I am only the messenger, Severus Snape." His voice was low, hardly more than a whisper, and monotone with a vaguely sinister edge. He barely moved his thin lips. "My message is in regards to your daughter Hermione Granger's next phase in education. I have come to deliver her acceptance letter and discuss logistical details."

Will regarded the man - other than his voice, which slightly grated on his nerves, and full black suit, he seemed rather normal. Then again, the mysterious stranger may be a serial killer. Ah well, the things they'd had to do for their clever daughter's education.

"All right." Will moved his wife to the kitchen with minor dragging action and revived her with their most fermented bleu cheese. When she came to, she exclaimed, "Will! This man had been babbling about witchcraft!"

"Is that so?" Will raised his eyebrows at his wife and the man. Severus, he had said. Certainly matched his severe expression. "Let's sit in the living room."

About time, Severus thought dryly as he followed the couple into their well-furnished home. He swallowed with difficulty as he noticed their family portraits upon the kitchen countertop and hanging on the walls; if only his own family had been this close-knit. Muggles, he thought with some contempt. Them and their emotions. All these mundane pleasantries were wearing him out.

"All right," Will said evenly. "What's the spiel?" My, isn't he direct. Severus felt the faintest twinge of respect for the man before him. He'd make a great Slytherin, had he not been a Muggle.

"At our institution, Hogwarts School, students begin their first year at age 11," Severus began the well-rehearsed opener, a "spiel" indeed. Albus and the Muggle Studies professor had simultaneously led the vigorous training curriculum. Those two and Minerva were given the most challenging tasks - Muggles who were likely to protest, or the case of wizarding celebrity Harry Potter. "Her education will allow your daughter to explore the full potential of her magical abilities." There was a pause here in the script. Indeed, the wife piped up, "What magical abilities?"

"Charms, spells, potions," Severus answered vaguely with a wave of his hand. "She'll of course be needing a wand, which she will purchase in Diagon Alley, the magical bazaar in London." He handed the Hogwarts welcome letter to the father, who seemed more practical. "Her required materials are attached on page 2. You will be able to convert your money - pounds - into the currency of the wizarding world, galleons at the wizarding bank, Gringotts." He gave the map of Diagon Alley with directions for accessing the magical street lined with wizarding shops, pointing at Gringotts upon it. As the parents examined the map and conversed in low tones, he reached into his satchel for another item. "Headmaster Albus Dumbledore also provided this book as a gift, as he is aware of your daughter's penchant for reading." The couple widened their eyes at Hogwarts, a History as it was handed to them.

"How is our daughter magical when we are not?" Mrs. Granger had clearly been bursting at the seams with curiosity regarding this spoken inquiry. "Or do we have untapped magical potential ourselves?"

"The term for non-magical folk is Muggles; Hermione therefore falls into the category of Muggle-born." Snape grimaced; he'd used "Hermione" without including "your daughter." Ah well, there would be deviances from the training material. He tried to smile, realizing that grimacing after announcing their Muggle status was hardly politically correct, but failed miserably. He settled on pursing his lips in a thin line. "In your family tree, there is a person, or people, born into a wizarding family but with no magical ability, also known as a Squib. Despite their lineage, their lack of ability does not serve them in the wizarding world. These Squibs therefore mix in the Muggle world and marry Muggles. However, the recessive magical gene among the bloodline can become dominant in some cases, such as this situation. Hence, Muggle-born wizards and witches." He needed a tall glass of water - this was not unlike lecturing in Potions class. "Excuse me," he said out of politeness as he conjured a glass of water out of thin air. The Grangers stared at him, and then the glass, with thinly veiled shock. Will recovered first, looking down to the welcome letter.

"School begins September 2," Will read aloud, then looked up. "We have a month."

"Indeed." Severus said, reluctantly admitting that he was rather pleased with this man's straightforwardness. He nearly chuckled - a very rare occurrence for him - at the thought of a Muggle in Slytherin. That would wipe the smug look of pure-blood supremacist Lucias Malfoy's face, the pride in his son Draco's certain sorting into Severus' own house. "Should you have further inquiries, you may write the school, mentioning myself or Deputy Headmistress Professor McGonagall."

"Will you be speaking with Hermione?" asked Mrs. Granger.

"You explanation, the book, and the letter will be sufficient enough," he said, hurriedly raising to his feet. "Now, if you'll excuse me," he said for the second time that afternoon.

"Of course," the Grangers said in unison as their daughter appeared behind them, a bright-eyed and bushy-haired brunette. As Severus Apparated, he felt a crushing sense of nostalgia wash over him. The young girl looked so very much like her. The Grangers gasped at the crack as he vanished into thin air, and Hermione thoughtfully observed the swirl of black robes, a hook-nosed man mournfully meeting her gaze for a millisecond.