Chapter 3

Hermione Granger, Minister for Magic, along with her Special Assistant Amma Entwong arrived at the distinctive boar-topped gates that guarded the entrance to Hogwarts School at the exact time designated by Headmaster Severus Snape. Hermione prided herself on her impeccable punctuality, and was secretly thrilled to be back at the place where her life had officially begun at eleven years old.

Brief but painfully-sweet memories flashed across her mind, memories of sailing across the Black Lake on that very first day, and being a little terrified of the rickety wooden boats that appeared to be steering themselves. The enormous frame of Hagrid, a giant man whom she had just encountered at Hogsmeade station had been in the front boat holding a huge lantern, which lit up the blackness of the night before the imposing castle came into view before them, its windows ablaze with flickering light. The memory of her first sight of Hogwarts still brought a twinge of excitement to her stomach even now, all these years and events later.

Returning herself mentally to the present, she focused on the current task in hand. She had no doubt that the dour and elusive Headmaster would be watching her arrival from whichever perch he had chosen to conceal himself, so therefore controlled her reaction to an internal one only. No one would be able to tell from looking at her that she was beaming like a mooncalf with pleasure inside. She touched her carved vinewood wand to the heavy iron gates and they swung open, recognising her credentials and that she was expected, and she made her way with Amma trotting beside her up the long winding path towards the castle entrance.

Severus had indeed been watching the gates from the large circular window in his office as the wards alerted him to his visitors. He watched as the two witches drew closer, before choosing that moment to apparate to the front doors with a loud crack, startling a group of Hufflepuff second-years who were studying the hourglasses in the entrance hall. He never tired of unsettling his students; small pleasures had to be sought where they could.

The huge doors swung open at his unspoken behest, a graceful sweeping movement of his right hand the only indication that a spell had been cast.

"Minister Granger."

He dipped his head into a slight bow of greeting, the twitch at one corner of his mouth his only concession to a smile.

"Headmaster Snape."

Hermione had no such reserve and gifted him with a wide smile, taking hold of his unoffered hand and shaking it firmly.

"May I present my assistant, Amma Entwong?"

She indicated the young witch standing somewhat nervously behind her. Snape instantly recognised her as an earnest Ravenclaw who had graduated a few years previously, whilst he was still teaching and before he was promoted to Headmaster. She looked so flustered he wondered if she might actually curtsey.

"I believe memory serves enough that formal introductions will not be necessary," he drawled, lazily.

"Miss Entwong and I have been owl correspondents this past week, organising this meeting, and I trust she is not so long out of Hogwarts as to forget her Potions Professor?"

He turned his expressionless gaze directly to the small witch, who was awkwardly fiddling with the strap of her document bag that was slung across her shoulder.

Amma blushed out an answer that could have been a squeak, and both Snape and Hermione independently suspected she was frustrated with her lack of articulacy in her big moment of introduction. No matter. This meeting concerned the two of them only.

"Let us proceed to my office. Miss Granger, I am sure you remember the way?"

Resisting the urge to answer with a Yes Sir, Hermione instead formulated a more mature response.

"I do indeed. I am looking forward to looking upon the castle as we walk, it has been too many years now since I last set foot inside Hogwarts."

"But you are the Minister for Magic, Miss Granger. Where would you have found the time?" Snape replied, raising that questioning eyebrow of his that sent her right back to feeling about thirteen again.

"I have a busy life, you are correct. That is why I take the time to enjoy moments such as these, when I get the chance to experience them." Hermione said confidently, taking control of the conversation and refusing to allow him to unsettle her, and starting to walk into the castle, heading towards the first main staircase.

All around her portraits were pointing and shouting greetings. Hermione Granger was their heroine, and the oil-painted folk were not the only ones to be surprised at the unexpected visitor. As the three of them continued to wend their way through the corridors many students gasped, walked into walls or just plain gaped at the most famous woman in the English wizarding world present here at their school. Clearly the Headmaster had not made a general announcement of her impending visit.

Hermione smiled sweetly and murmured generic greetings as she walked through the halls. Her tactile nature meant she could not help but occasionally touch the stone banisters, the edges of the portraits, the restored wooden doors. Snape watched her fingers drift over an odd wall brick of the semi-sentient castle, almost as if she was saying hello to it. There was an innocent gentleness in her touch, and a complete lack of guile in her obvious affection for the old castle.

As they approached the stone gargoyle that guarded the entrance to his office, it began to turn and the revolving stone steps appeared without a password. The gargoyle recognised the Headmaster and immediately opened for him. Another way he had annoyed Minerva; he thought wryly to himself. She had never figured out how he guessed her office passwords so quickly; in truth he had never needed one, the gargoyle opened for him automatically as soon as he entered that corridor.

Seated in his office, he had a house-elf bring tea and a choice of refreshments. Hermione was pleased to see a healthy and happy looking elf in his Hogwarts-crested uniform, hat and shoes deliver the repast. One of her early reforms in her old department was that clothes no longer meant dismissal for house-elves. Every sentient magical being should have the right be appropriately attired as they wished.

"So."

He put his elbows on the desk and steepled his fingers, an expectant look upon his face. He addressed Hermione, who was sitting directly across from him, the assistant next to her perched on the edge of her own seat with a shorthand quill, ready to take notes.

"Miss Granger. Am I correct in thinking that this educational reform is a done deal, as it were? Is this meeting today just to agree how the operation will be implemented within Hogwarts?"

"Essentially you are correct," Hermione replied.

"The reform does still have to go to a vote in the Wizengamot, but as long as the planning is sound I don't see that there will be any problems in passing the reforms as law."

"I see. Your proposed planning consists of what, exactly? Show me."

As always Snape was straight to the point. He was not a wizard who had unlimited time to waste on niceties.

Amma pulled a fat sheaf of parchment from a small satchel. Clearly that had an undetectable extension charm on it, always Granger's speciality, and no doubt she had provided her assistant with this bag. Before Amma could pass the parchments across the desk to the Headmaster, he had arrogantly flicked his wand in her direction, sending the sheaf flying across the mahogany between them and they slapped directly into his waiting hand, drawing another squeak from the surprised Miss Entwong.

"I will peruse these at length," he advised, having a cursory flick through the documents before placing them on the desk in front of him.

"However, I am in essence, approving of the reforms. Headmistress McGonagall was a great supporter of these plans and as her deputy at that time I was involved in her preparation for the change in the curriculum. I trust that there will be funding for the additional professor I shall have to recruit, and for resources and materials pertaining to the addition to the timetable of a completely new subject?"

"Yes Sir, of course."

Hermione couldn't stop the schoolgirl reply had tumbled unbidden and unexpectedly from her mouth, and his eyes shot towards her, endless obsidian pools that narrowed as they searched her face.

"Old habits die hard, Granger," he mocked gently, raising a black eyebrow in her direction and holding her gaze.

What was that expression in his eyes? Whatever it was, it seemed to be something approaching personality, which was usually famously lacking in this sour man. When coupled with the casual use of her name, without a title, it had inexplicably sent a jolt of interest straight to the seat of her pants.

Inappropriate!

Her mind screamed and her; but try as she might, she could not seem to yank her eyes away from his.

What the bloody hell are you doing, Hermione? Stop staring at him!

In reality it couldn't have been more than a few seconds of tense silence but seemed like an age. How completely embarrassing. She mentally pulled herself together, reflecting that she was rather glad that the general wizarding public knew nothing of the gauche, awkward, frizzy-haired, buck-toothed schoolgirl that still lived somewhere inside her, and occasionally made brief cameo appearances at very inopportune moments.

She coughed.

Get a grip.

"Of course, Headmaster Snape," she began smoothly, recovering her composure, and hopefully he wasn't aware that she had ever lost it.

"The proposal is that the Ministry will fund the new teacher's salary in same way as all the current professors are paid, and that the new teacher, before they begin teaching, will compile a list of books and resources that are needed and the cost of these will be added to the school's general budget. You will not be expected to cut back in other areas in order to finance the new addition."

He sat back in his large leather and wood office chair, one side of his mouth curling up in what appeared to be satisfaction.

"I am most pleased to hear that. So the only task that appears to fall to me currently is appointing the aforementioned new professor?"

"That is correct."

"I trust that I am to be allowed full and complete freedom to appoint a teacher that I believe satisfactory, rather than be required to parade my choices through the Ministry?"

Severus revealed his one true requirement and hope that the answer would be what he wanted to hear. There was no bloody way he was having a Ministry-selected teacher in his school, he wouldn't trust them to recruit an owl handler, let alone a professor. No doubt they would hire some fucking nightmare that he and the rest of the staff would have to live with twenty-four hours a day.

He detested the Ministry, the people who worked there and the power they held. The more infrequent contact he had with them, the better. Although having the Minister here was proving strangely pleasant. Had she seemed almost flustered back then? Surely not.

Hearing the all-powerful Minister for Magic (although in his mind, still partly the insufferable Granger chit) refer to him as Sir had sent a rush of interest to his groin. His dominant side, so very well hidden since the end of the war, had a quick flash of the famous Princess of Gryffindor on her knees in front of him, calling him Sir ...

What the fuck? Get your mind out of the gutter and back on the task in hand, man.

He inwardly berated himself for allowing his mind to wander, and forced it back to listen to the Minister's response to his question.

"You will have full autonomy to appoint whomever who you deem appropriate for the position, as you would any other member of staff. The curriculum for the new Magical Life and Culture lessons will be need to be approved by the Ministry though, I would like to peruse it myself, to ensure it is fit for purpose. In the parchments I have provided you will find a copy of the syllabus, with everything I would like to be covered in these classes."

Of course she wanted a hand in the planning, this was all her idea. She wanted everything that should have available when she started Hogwarts. Others would not suffer the same lack of education and preparation that she had experienced as a muggle-born witch.

Snape found that listening to Miss Granger talk was not as hard as he expected. He idly supposed that her being over two decades out of school had improved her communication skills. She was exceptionally intelligent, passionate about the new subject and the difference it would make not only for the muggle-borns and muggle-raised, but also for the wider community as a whole.

She spoke quickly and knowledgably; and he was forced to admit that her planning and reasoning was faultless. If only he hadn't spent her school years paying off some kind of self-perceived debt to protect Potter and pretending to be a Death Eater at immense personal cost, he would have enjoyed teaching her – a quick mind, thirst for knowledge and a sharp intellect were amongst his favourite qualities in students.

After a not-completely-unpleasant hour discussing the finer points of the reform, Granger and her assistant were ready to leave. Severus stood and offered to apparate them to the front gates.

"That won't be necessary. We will be more than happy to walk back through the school. It still gives me great pleasure to be here." Hermione replied.

He escorted the two witches through the castle and to the front doors.

"We can take it from here," she said to him, as he opened the heavy doors and bright sunlight spilled into the entrance hall.

"Thank you Headmaster, for your time today. I wish you every success in appointing a professor for the new subject by the end of term. They can prepare over the summer."

Hermione shook his hand warmly, and he surprised himself by returning it with an equally firm grip of his own. She turned to leave, but spun back around after she had descended the first stone step.

"Shall I be seeing you at the summer ball at the Ministry this year, Headmaster?" she took that moment to look directly into his eyes.

"I am of course required to be there," he replied.

She tipped her head slightly to one side, as if she was listening out for something.

"It will be fun. I promise," she smiled.

He opened his mouth to reply, but for the life of him he could not think of an appropriate response. The pause became too long, and she turned away from him again, setting off down the steps when Miss Entwong was already waiting at the bottom, clearly keen to put some miles between herself and Hogwarts.

He stepped back and allowed the huge doors to slowly close in front of him, watching as the light became a long, thin slit before the wood and metal crunched together in the middle, securing the main entrance.

As if a Ministry ball could ever be fun. Ridiculous notion.

He swirled around and began to stalk back through the corridors towards his office, his long black teaching robes billowing behind him like smoke.