Author: Lash_Larue
Title: "Not Fate" Chapter Four of 28
Pairing: none now, Fleur Delacour and Hermione Granger are featured
Rating: PG13
Summary: You can't always outrun the past, but you can control the present
Warnings: Angsty, non-epilog compliant
Word Count: 1650
Disclaimer: These characters belong to JK Rowling
"Not Fate"
Chapter Four
"That completes my introduction," Hermione told her students. "Are there any questions?"
"What can you tell us about Lord Voldemort?" Roger Staunton demanded.
Hermione closed her eyes and breathed deeply, striving to control herself. She had dared to hope that this subject would not come up.
"I can tell you nothing whatsoever about Lord Voldemort, Mr. Staunton, to my knowledge, no such person ever existed," she said shortly.
"Oh, come on, Professor! We've all heard about him, greatest wizard ever, killed lots of people? Surely you've heard of him? I mean, it did happen in your backyard, didn't it?" the boy pressed.
Hermione's eyes flamed.
"Killed lots of people? Is that how you measure greatness, Mr. Staunton?" she asked coldly. "In that case, with a mere flick of my wrist I can become the greatest witch of all history. I promise you Mr. Staunton, that these beautiful islands simply yearn to return to the molten hell they sprang from. Shall I do it? Do you wish to witness greatness first hand?" Hermione raised her wand.
"Well no, of course not, but it's ridiculous to deny that Lord Voldemort existed, it's a matter of history," insisted Staunton.
"And this is not history, Mr. Staunton. This is experimental transfiguration. However, I shall respond, just this once. "Lord Voldemort", as he styled himself, was an insane and megalomaniacal dark wizard named Tom Riddle. He was the product of a downtrodden witch's desperate attempt to escape her hellishly abusive home life. He was a half blood who felt himself tainted by his Muggle father's blood. He was an admittedly gifted wizard, and the most arrant coward in the history of the world. He catered to people's insecurities and paranoia, as well as their vanities and prejudices, and he built a large following of similarly damaged and corrupt witches and wizards. And yes, he did indeed kill a lot of people, including many of my friends. Would you explain to all of us how this makes him great?"
"Oh come on Hermione, we all know you played a major role in his defeat. Tell us how it really was, don't be shy, girl," Staunton oiled.
"Very well Mr. Staunton, I shall tell you how it really was. Riddle and his followers killed helpless Muggles for sport. They sodomized mothers while they fed their infants to werewolves. This madman was so afraid of his own mortality that he killed, tortured, maimed, mutilated, raped, despoiled and befouled, all in a futile attempt to attain immortality. He very nearly completely ruptured the veil of secrecy that protects us all. And I promise you Mr. Staunton, that if the Muggle world at large becomes aware of us, they will purge us from the earth. Individually they are helpless before us; together they could burn us to a cinder. I know this. I am Muggle born."
"Great, you call him? He was killed in open duel by a teenager using someone else's wand, while he himself held the most powerful wand ever made. Killed by a teenaged wizard who could not qualify for this class. Harry Potter is a great wizard, yes, not because of his power, but because of his heart, his sense of right. Albus Dumbledore was a great wizard, and Nicholas Flamel, and Aldlethwaite Gamp, because they created, they advanced knowledge. Minerva McGonagall is a great witch; I saw her form an army from student desks and fight tirelessly despite her advanced age. Severus Snape was a great wizard, and perhaps the bravest person I have ever known, and I have known some very courageous people. Tom Riddle was a pathetic stain on wizardkind, nothing more."
The class was silent for a time, and then Staunton tried again.
"Gamp? Great? Come on, Hermione, you proved him wrong, we've all read that paper, it's why most of us are here."
"Mr. Staunton, might I remind you that it took five hundred years, and me, to prove one of his five exceptions wrong. Frankly, I don't see you doing half so well. One thing further Mr. Staunton, I will not pretend that your mother does not have influence here. Witness your presence in this class. But if you ever again address me as anything other than 'Professor', or 'Professor Granger", you will find yourself barred from this program. The same thing applies to you or anyone else who broaches this subject again in this class. Have I made this sufficiently clear to you all?"
She had.
xxxx
"You wanted to see me, Dean Wilkes?" Hermione asked upon entering the dean's office.
"Indeed, I have here a letter from Inez Staunton. There is an enclosure for you as well," Dean Wilkes informed her.
"Let's have it then," Hermione said grimly.
The dean smiled broadly.
"Inez wants me to thank you for bringing young Roger up short. She says that it's long overdue, and that she is thrilled to have finally found a teacher with, pardon me, 'the balls to straighten his ass out'. The enclosure is a lease agreement for two months on a house on St. Catherine's island. But I suppose you wouldn't be interested in that," Wilkes said with a wide grin.
"St. Catherine's? Two months? You can't be serious! Oh, wait, there is no way that I can accept this, it's completely improper," Hermione said as she deflated.
"Actually it's quite proper, Ms. Staunton is on the board, and she has stipulated that the house is to be available to any qualified staff member."
"Oh, I see, well, that does make a difference," Hermione muttered, seeing her idyllic solitude vanish.
"Oddly, you are the only qualified staff member," Dean Wilkes informed her. "Hermione, your handling of that young reprobate has gotten us a new research department and enriched our endowment greatly. It's fair for you to have this; the rest of the staff will be overjoyed with their pay raises. I know what that island means to you, I only wish I could go with you."
"But..."
"No. No buts. Now then, I have another item to toss in your lap. I want you to help me interview a prospective faculty member. A Charms Theory instructor. She comes highly recommended, and I believe that you know her. Fleur Delacour?"
"Of course I know her," Hermione granted. "We – went through a lot together in England. She's certainly qualified, though I'm surprised that she's leaving France."
"Is it any odder than you leaving England?"
"Perhaps not, when does she arrive?"
"Tomorrow, her appointment is at eleven, just before lunch," Dean Wilkes informed her.
"Fine. By the way, does she know that I'm here?"
"Not from me, it didn't seem necessary to inform her, should I have done so?"
"No. Ms. Delacour will have to qualify like anyone else. From what I recall of her she wouldn't have it any other way," Hermione answered.
"That's good to hear. Madame Maxime was quite generous in her praise of Ms. Delacour, and Beauxbatons has an excellent reputation…"
"It is well-deserved," Hermione assured, "is there anything further?"
"Not just now. Do be sure and send me a postcard from St. Catherine's, won't you?"
"If I can find the time while fighting off the droves of handsome young men who are lusting over my body, of course," Hermione agreed.
"Men?" Dean Wilkes questioned, enjoying the blush her comment caused.
xxxx
"Professor Granger…" came a hesitant voice at her office door that evening.
"Yes," Hermione replied, "come in, I have a few minutes before I go home."
Hermione tensed when Roger Staunton entered her office.
"I want to apologize to you, Professor Granger," he began.
"I'm listening," she granted.
"I'd like to start over with you, if I could," he began. "This isn't easy to admit, but I know was a complete idiot in our first class. It's just that…"
"Go on, Mr. Staunton," Hermione encouraged, interested in spite of herself.
"Well, have you ever done something just because you thought people expected you to? I have a kind of reputation, a 'bad boy' image. I don't even know exactly how I got it, but people expect me to sort of act out, do you understand? I'm smart, really, it's just that… oh, shit, I don't know how to explain this," he trailed off.
"Actually, Mr. Staunton, I know exactly what you're talking about, and I am willing to make a fresh start with you," Hermione told him.
"Really? You mean it?"
"I do indeed. I've gone a bit deeper into your transcripts since our little encounter, and once you get past the bullshit, you can see something real underneath. Give me your best efforts, Mr. Staunton, and I'll give you mine. Deal?"
"Yes Professor! Thank you Professor! I'll see you in class, Professor!"
He fled from the room, and Hermione smiled in contentment. Moments like this were why she loved to teach.
"Err, Professor Granger?" came the tentative voice once again.
"Do make it quick please, Mr. Staunton," she answered.
"Yes Ma'am. I – I was wondering if you could really destroy the islands with a flick of your wand?"
"Of course not Mr. Staunton, I was exaggerating to make a point, and I was angry," she admitted.
"Oh, that's good then, thank you," he responded, relieved.
"It would take a fairly complex movement of the wand to do that," she explained. "Will there be anything further? I really would like to get home."