Chapter four: No One
Hermione and Evie were dead to the world for fourteen hours, but no one dared disturb them with Ginny going as far as sleeping on the couch so she wouldn't wake them. Hermione woke slowly, feeling a comfortable weight on her arm and blinking her eyes at the golden mass of hair in her face- illuminated by the dawning sun coming in from the window. Evie wasn't awake yet, snoring softly on her arm with her nose no doubt twitching as she dreamed, though Hermione couldn't see her face until she gently cradled her off so Hermione could move without waking her. Yes, there was the twitching.
Tap, tap, tap.
Hermione startled, looking over to the window and wondering when someone closed it. Had Ginny? She stepped over to open it quickly, hoping it wouldn't wake her sister. Pig settled on the desk, offering his leg to her and nipping at her fingers as she untied the letter. Odd, she thought, that it had been tied with a black silk ribbon. And it was addressed to her, in a vaguely familiar spidery hand and she frowned at it.
"Hermione?"
Evie's voice was masked by a groan from just having woken up. She rolled over and looked at Hermione through narrowed eyes that weren't quite awake yet. Hermione went to her, momentarily forgetting about the letter.
"How did you sleep?"
"Good."
"So I was thinking," Hermione said, "About asking Professor McGonagall to help me teach you since you can't go to school. Maybe we can ask Remus too. I think he used to be a tutor before teaching at Hogwarts. You remember him, right?"
Evie nodded, yawning. "I remember. The werewolf."
"Evie," Hermione scolded. "He's more than just a werewolf."
"Sorry, it's just a way for me to keep everyone straight. McGonagall's the cat. Snape is the Potions professor, right?"
She sighed. "That's Professor McGonagall and Professor Snape, but yes, he teaches Potions. You remember him too?"
"I liked him."
Hermione smiled. "Don't tell Harry that, or Ron. But what do you say? Me teaching you? We could pick up some books in Diagon Alley, maybe ask someone to go to the Muggle world with us to pick up a few more there."
Evie nodded. "What's Hogwarts like? I mean, I know you've told me about it, but now I'll be going and maybe attending one day. Will the teachers like me?"
"Everyone will love you," Hermione promised, thinking with apprehension about the Slytherins. "You've already seen Professors Dumbledore and Snape. Professor McGonagall was always my favorite, and you'll love her."
"Are you afraid?"
Evie's question was quiet, but her blue eyes were wide and calculating in a way Hermione recognized. She knew Evie would be looking for any signs that she was.
"Yes," she answered honestly. "I'm afraid about the war, and what will happen at school this year now that the Wizarding World knows about it. But I'm not worried about you. I won't let anything happen to you. I'll make you a necklace like mine, and if you're ever in danger, it will either bring you to me or take you somewhere safe."
"Am I interrupting?" A voice said with a knock at the door. Remus. "Professor Dumbledore is here to talk to you."
Hermione smiled at him and thanked him, motioning for Evie to follow her to the kitchen- the two of them lead by Remus to where Dumbledore sat, with Snape leaning against the wall behind him. Mrs. Weasley was already awake and cooking, a wonderful smell in the air. Ron and Harry were still asleep, as was Ginny on the couch. When she and Evie entered the kitchen, Dumbledore smiled at them in his grandfatherly way. Aside from he, Snape, and Mrs. Weasley, there was Remus, Tonks, Mad-Eye, Kingsley, and McGonagall.
"Miss Grangers'," the headmaster greeted. "Good morning. I hope we didn't wake you."
"Not at all, professor," Hermione said politely. "We were already up."
He nodded and smiled at Evie. "Miss Evangeline, I don't believe we've had the pleasure. I am Albus Dumbledore. I'm the current headmaster at Hogwarts."
Hermione frowned at his wording as he shook her sister's hand. Current headmaster? Why wouldn't he just introduce himself as the headmaster? Was something expected to happen to him? Was he not expecting to be the headmaster next year? Her eyes caught black orbs watching her shrewdly, as if knowing what she was thinking and knowing more than she could figure out.
"Miss Granger?"
She shook her head out of it and looked over to see everyone looking at her in a way that told they'd asked her something and she hadn't responded.
"I'm sorry?"
Dumbledore's eyes twinkled at her. "I asked if you remembered what we discussed my last visit."
Hermione's eyes shot to Evie, who was still standing near Dumbledore and Snape, and back to the headmaster. "We discussed quite a few things the last time you were here. A few things I don't wish to discuss in front of my sister. I hope one of those isn't to what you are now referring?"
In her peripheral vision she could see Professor Snape's mouth quirk into something of a smirk and he looked away from them as if to keep anyone from seeing his amusement. Dumbledore smiled kindly.
"Of course not, my dear. I was meaning Hogwarts. I wanted to inform you that yours and your sister's quarters have been set up near Gryffindor Tower so that you will still be close to your House mates."
Hermione sighed in relief. "Thank you so much, professor. I can't thank you enough."
He merely smiled again. "You are more than welcome. After the Welcoming Feast, Professor McGonagall will show the two of you where it is, though I ask that you are discreet about it and give the password only to those you trust."
"Of course," Hermione said immediately, looking over to her Head of House. "Actually, I was hoping to introduce Evie to you. I've told her all about Hogwarts. And I hope she'll attend one day."
Professor McGonagall smiled at her fondly, looking to Evie as Hermione came over. "It's nice to meet you, Miss Evangeline."
"Nice to meet you, professor," Evie mumbled.
"And," Hermione hesitated, glancing to her second favorite teacher- as well as whose subject was her second favorite, "this is Professor Snape."
Evie looked up at the tall man curiously, who was in turn looking down at the girl. Hermione gritted her teeth and hoped he would be civil. Or she would have more words with him. But the professor did something she'd never seen him do, something that made everyone in the room- minus the headmaster- blink in stunned surprise. He smiled.
It was only a small smile, that wouldn't be on anyone else, but it was more a smile than anyone had seen on him in a long time. Or at all for Hermione and the younger generation. He bent forward slightly to not be so tall, offering a hand to the little girl.
"Very pleased to meet you, Miss Evangeline." Instead of shaking her hand, though Hermione was sure she'd never seen him shake hands with anyone, he quickly kissed the top of Evie's hand before resuming his usual stance. Hermione looked surprised, pleasantly so, that he was being polite to her.
"Please to meet you, Professor Snape," Evie responded, visibly more relaxed than when she'd been officially introduced to Dumbledore and McGonagall.
Snape bowed his head to her politely. Hermione moved Evie into a seat and Mrs. Weasley rushed over with a glass of pumpkin juice for her. Evie had found herself loving the stuff, much more than she'd ever liked apple or orange juice.
"I think you'll also remember my consent to your sister coming to your classes with you," Dumbledore continued their previous conversation. "With, of course, a few objections. I have spoken to Minerva and seen your schedule. I thought it might be best for her to sit with Professor McGonagall during your Defense Against the Dark Arts classes, myself during Care of Magical Creatures, and Professor Snape during Potions. I think you'll agree that those three have a tendency to be dangerous?"
Hermione nodded, thinking to herself about the hippogriff her third year and the less than proper teachers they'd had for DADA- with the exception of Remus- and Neville in his...
"Did you say Professor Snape during Potions? He isn't teaching them this year?"
"Professor Snape will be teaching Defense Against the Dark Arts this year. An old friend will be taking his place in Potions."
Hermione frowned and furrowed her brow at him. Severus Snape was widely regarded as the youngest and brightest Potions Master in the world, not just in Britain. He'd been teaching Potions since before Harry's parents died. Why was he now being moved to DADA- a position that was thought to be cursed? Surely there were others to offer the position of Defense Against the Dark Arts to. No matter what the rumors were, she didn't believe for a moment watching him brew that Professor Snape preferred DADA. No one who paid attention to his class would think that.
"Miss Granger, are you alright?"
Hermione nodded slowly. "I'm sorry, professor, I don't understand."
"It's simple, Granger," Professor Snape said. "I've been moved to Defense Against the Dark Arts, the previous Potions professor will be returning."
Ah, the previous professor of potions. Horace Slughorn, if she remembered right- and she usually did. Professor Snape was far superior, if only going by written journals and Mastery notes. That wasn't taking anything else into account, like opinions of those who knew both men.
"No," she said. "I understood that. I meant that I'm not sure I understand why."
Professor Snape's face twisted into a sneer, but Hermione hurried to explain herself before he could misunderstand. "I don't mean that I don't think you'll be brilliant," she said with something of a blush, "With your," her eyes cut to Evie and back to him "experience, I think you would be in a very unique position to teach us what we need to know. I only meant that it seems odd to have you move from a job you've had for fifteen years, that it is unlikely anyone else could do better in, to a position that seems easier to fill. Especially considering the tendency Defense Against the Dark Arts has to get rid of its professors."
"I simply thought it was time to give Severus the position he applied for in the beginning," Dumbledore insisted.
Hermione pursed her lips and narrowed her eyes at him to tell him she didn't believe him, but didn't say anything else on the matter. Instead she made brief eye contact with Professor Snape and looked to Evie.
"Professor Dumbledore," she addressed without looking at him. "I wondered if it might be possible to go into the muggle world, if only briefly. I need to retrieve something our parents left for us, and get some books for Evie. I'm going to be teaching her since she won't be returning to school."
"Of course," he said in his way. "I'm sure Professor Snape wouldn't mind escorting the two of you. Perhaps tomorrow?"
Hermione caught the glare Professor Snape sent at the back of Dumbledore's head and busied herself with smoothing out Evie's hair. "I-I'm sure that Professor Snape is busy-"
"It will be taken care of," the headmaster interrupted. "I'm afraid our Aurors will be needed elsewhere, and tomorrow is the full moon. He is the only one available."
Hermione nodded as he stood to leave. The others began to follow him out, with Snape pulling up the rear. Hermione briefly wondered if that was because he didn't trust the others not to curse him behind his back, or if it was leftover paranoia from Death Eater meetings and his bullied childhood that Sirius and Remus had only mentioned in passing with lots of lines to peer between.
"Thank you, professor," Hermione said to him before he left.
"Don't thank me, I obviously had no choice in the matter. Be ready at noon. If I have to wait, I will leave and you will have to do without."
Hermione sighed at his back and looked at Ron and Harry who were both ambling down the stairs as the Order members left. Ginny entered behind them; the three freshly woken people sitting at the dining table in habit for breakfast. Mrs. Weasley didn't disappoint, as she never did, laying out plates and foods and beverages. Pumpkin juice for Harry and Ginny, milk for Ron, tea for Hermione and Fleur, coffee for herself. More pumpkin juice for Evie.
"How did you sleep?" Fleur asked she and Evie.
"Good, thank you," Hermione said to her ally, as she'd begun to think of her.
Then she noticed that no one was staring at her with that heartbroken, pitying look she and her sister had been getting for the last week. Good. Maybe they were lightening up. She knew Harry was going to burst a vessel when he found out about Professor Snape teaching DADA, but she was not going to be the one to tell him.
She'd have to find out more about Horace Slughorn. She'd have to be sure to keep Evie away from the Slytherins. Though she didn't believe being sorted into that house automatically made you evil, she wasn't going to take any chances. She wasn't going to take any chances with anyone. Evie wouldn't leave her sight unless she was with one of the three professors in the Order. Hermione trusted other professors, but not with Evie's life. Dumbledore, she wasn't sure about this year with his secrecy, but she still would trust him with Evie. She trusted both McGonagall and Snape too, without question. It was settled; if Evie wasn't with one of them, she had to be with Hermione. And the professors were only out of necessity.
"What did Dumbledore want?" Harry asked her, sounding like he used to before. Before he treated her like she'd break, and before Sirius died. She almost smiled.
"Just stuff about Hogwarts," she said, scooping some porridge into Evie's plate. "He's letting Evie and I stay in a separate room so we don't bother anyone. And Professor Snape is taking Evie and I to London tomorrow."
"Snape?" Ron said, mumbled and hard to make out through his mouth of food. Eggs fell from his mouth and back onto his plate, making Hermione smile at the normalcy. "What is he doing that for?"
"Professor Snape," she corrected, "is taking us so I can get some books for Evie's schooling. I don't want her to fall behind..."
Harry, Ron, and Ginny grinned. Harry spoke, "Then she'll know more than we do by Christmas."
Hermione rolled her eyes, thanking Merlin that the morning wasn't as awkward as it had been.
"Hey, Harry," Ron said, "Do you want to go flying? I'm thinking about trying out for Quidditch."
"You'll do brilliant," Harry promised. "Let's go."
"Can I watch?" Evie asked.
Hermione sipped her tea. "Yes, but you'll need your shoes. We can both go. I want to look over my summer homework again."
Ron scoffed lightly. "You know it's perfect," he said. "Why bother?"
Hermione didn't answer, letting Ginny smack him for her as she went upstairs to get Evie's shoes and get dressed. The mysterious letter she'd received that morning lay on their bed. She frowned at it again, having forgotten about it, and picked it up to take out with her.
Once she and Evie were sat in the grass, with Ron, Harry, and Ginny in the air and Evie captivated by it, Hermione opened the tri-folded letter. The ink was dark green, almost black in the heavier handed areas, and the paper was plain parchment that gave no hints to where it was bought or by whom. The handwriting was maddeningly familiar.
'Someone,
I understand your conflict; the question of your own morality that you cannot decide your feelings on such a matter. Or rather, I can try to understand. I myself rejoiced the day my father met his demise, and I was never particularly close to my mother. Who is to say what is the proper way to grieve? Especially the proper way to grieve someone you aren't sure how you felt about to begin with- which is how it seems your relationship with your parents was. Do correct me if I am mistaken.
Perhaps it is for the best that you aren't falling victim to the harsh master of grief, perhaps even harsher than that of Death. Why does it matter if you aren't reacting as strongly as your friend to his godfather's passing? The relationships were obviously different. Wouldn't it be worse- an insult to their memory- if you forced yourself to feel things you weren't ready for or genuine about? Particularly when you are now responsible for a young, impressionable child? A child that will need you to help console them with their own feelings on the matter?
I am sorry to hear of your fear for failure. Of your thoughts that you will fail your friends, your sister, and even if you did not outright say it- yourself. To not know where you stand in the world, or even how to stand. It is a feeling I am familiar with, and I would not wish it upon my worst enemy. I am even more regretful to say that it is an impossible feeling to describe to someone who does not know it, and it is not something you'll be able to make your friends understand.
In the letter to which I am replying, you addressed it to 'No One'. I can only assume that implies you never intended to send it. That is not what caught my attention. What caught my attention, and perhaps my alarm, is that you also signed the letter as being from 'No One'. I am not a sentimental being and I will only say this once: you are not no one.
Hermione stared at the letter with wide eyes. Someone had sent her letter, the one she'd only written to get her thoughts out and not for anyone to actually read. Then she reread it, her heart swelling at the words of a stranger. It wasn't signed. And it was addressed to Someone. She was someone. She let out a breath she didn't realize she was holding, and with one letter from someone she didn't know, she felt lighter than endless chatter and words from people she admired and loved.
Who sent it? Both; the letter she'd written and the letter in return. The write of the reply knew her, despite the obvious attempts to sound like some random recipient of hers. It was too much. A stranger would have used names that she'd used in the first letter. The letter to no one. But this person carefully avoided any, meaning they were trying to seem unknown when in fact they knew her. Was it one of the Weasleys? No, the cadence of the letter structure wasn't right. But it had to be one of the Weasleys that sent it off.
Fleur. It had to be Fleur. Anyone else in the house would have read it and confronted her about what she'd written in it, or read it and gave her even worse pitying looks that before. Fleur did this. Hermione scrambled to her feet, laying the homework she'd brought out with the letter on the grass, clutching the letter in her hand as she marched into the house to find her.
The half Veela was sitting in the living room, ignoring the glares from Mrs. Weasley in the kitchen, and flipping through the Quibbler- a hand illustrated 'Crumpled Horn Snorkack' on the cover. She glanced up at Hermione vaguely and back to her paper.
"What," Hermione seethed, "is this?"
She threw the somewhat crumpled letter at Fleur and crossed her arms to glare at her friend. Fleur looked up surprised, setting her paper aside and picking up the letter to read. Hermione watched the other girl's eyes roam side to side over the words, and felt something in her stomach clench that someone else was reading such a... personal and intimate missive. Maybe she shouldn't have said anything, or found a different way to confront her now that Fleur was looking at her with an understanding and beaming light in her eyes.
"Well," she said slowly, as if testing the waters to see how much Hermione knew, "it appears to be a letter. Who is it from?"
"Oh, don't," Hermione scoffed. "I know you found the letter I wrote to 'No One', and I know you sent it. Who did you send it to?"
Fleur sighed in defeat, and Hermione was pleased to see that she wouldn't keep arguing when she was caught the way Harry or Ron would.
"I don't know," she answered honestly in her heavy accent. "I only told the bird to take it to someone good. Someone who needed someone to talk to just as much as you do."
"You had no right," Hermione said quiet, trying and failing to sound accusatory.
"No," Fleur conceded, "I didn't. But I did it anyway and now you've got a reply and you are already different. How bad can it be? You and this person talk and you help each other through whatever it is he is going through, and he's already helping you."
Hermione scoffed at Fleur's question of how bad could it be. Obviously she hadn't talked to Ginny about her second year. Or heard about it at all. But, she did feel better to have the little she felt validated. She felt the tension in her shoulders sag.
"We don't know who they are. They could be a Death Eater. We don't know."
"And they definitely know who you are," Fleur commented, looking at the letter again.
"Yes, I caught that. And they were very, very careful not to leave any clues for me to return the favor." Hermione sighed and collapsed onto the couch next to Fleur with her arm over her eyes. Fleur shifted to face her and Hermione peeked out at her.
"I know that you're skeptical," she said, "I would be too, but just think about it. You can exchange letters, get to know each other and and help each other, and if there's anything strange or suspicious- you can stop immediately. And during that, you can maybe find out who they are."
Hermione gnawed absentmindedly on the inside of her cheek and thought about it, already knowing what her answer would be. So that night, while Evie snored softly in bed and Ginny and the boys played Exploding Snap in Ron's room, she wrote a reply.
'Anyone,
You are correct that the first letter was never meant to be seen by anyone other than me, much less sent by owl, so imagine my shock to get a reply from some stranger. I'm not even sure why I wrote it to begin with. I've never been in the habit of writing down such thoughts and emotions. But I suppose I've never been in the position to feel or have them.
I don't know why I'm sending this, aside from my friend thinking it could be a good idea. She seems to think you trustworthy just because she told the owl to find someone "good". She'll be quite put out if she finds out otherwise, and I'm sure she'll never trust another owl. So don't be some psychopath, yeah? I'm sorry- gallows humor. I'm also not in the habit of sending letters to strangers. Though you aren't much of a stranger, are you? You know me. I just haven't figured out how yet. Care to give me a hint?
I'm honestly not sure what to write, or even if you wanted a reply to yours at all. I'm too embarrassed to think you've read my thoughts to even think about what to say to you now. Not that I blame you for the incident. Or maybe I do out of spite.
I am both glad and sorry that you understand how I feel. It isn't a great feeling, and I'm sorry that you seem intimate with it. But at the same time, I'm very grateful that someone knows what I feel and can validate it. I felt so... empty thinking I was going half mad. I feel like I'm going half mad with the way people are tip-toeing around Evie and I. Though I admit they're getting better about it, they still stop talking when I walk into the room. Evie, not so much. They fawn over her, which is something of a blessing as I'm afraid I've been neglecting her.
I don't know how to be a parent, which is essentially the role I've inherited. As her sister, we're close. Now I'm wondering if she's eating enough, getting enough sun, not neglecting her studies, making sure she has a bed time. Bed time! I myself haven't had a set bedtime since I was a toddler. How can I set one for her without feeling guilty? I feel like my entire thought process has tilted.
You say you weren't close with either of your parents, did you have any siblings? I was assuming not, as it seems you would have mentioned them in your previous letter, but I thought I'd ask and perhaps get a different perspective. Should I be worried that Evie isn't acting much more effected than I am? Am I messing her up already?
No one. I honestly am not how to answer your concern of me signing my letter as no one also. I think maybe, I would like to be no one. Even if only in a letter to a 'stranger'. To those around me, as you'll know if you're one of them, I'm the know-it-all- a term bestowed by my Potions professor. I'm the girl with the answers, the girl with the plan, Harry Potter's friend. To anyone not close to me, I am still the know-it-all, Harry Potter's friend, and depending on the person: the mudblood. To Evie, I'm the teller of stories and the 'hero' of them. I'm her big sister. To my parents I was the problem child, which didn't start until I left for Hogwarts. I like the prospect of being no one. As no one, I am free from such responsibilities. I'm free to be whomever I choose. I'm free to simply be me; witch and avid reader.
-No One'
The next day, at noon sharp, Hermione was combing Evie's hair as they waited for Professor Snape to arrive. He was perfectly on time, knocking on the door and being let in by Mrs. Weasley. She apologized for not being entirely ready, still trying to tame Evie's hair that was just like hers had been at that age. Thank Merlin that it had calmed down as she got older. She combed it through, battling with tangles and apologizing to him profusely, but he merely waved her off and waited patiently for her to finish. Finally, almost fifteen after noon, it looked somewhat decent- tied back with the silk ribbon from the stranger's letter.
"I thought we would apparate there," Professor Snape said. Hermione made a face and he caught it with an exasperated look. "What is it now?"
"Well, I've been reading," she started.
"Have you?" He asked sardonically, "I'd have never known."
She glared. "Yes, and I've been reading accounts of splinching. And neither of us have ever-"
"I can assure you, Miss Granger, I have never splinched myself," he told her, remembering a time he left Regulus' foot in Wales. "You will both be fine. Besides, I do not make it a habit to ride London public transportation. Are the two of you ready?"
Hermione glanced to her sister and back. "Yes," she said, trying not to sigh.
They walked out to the Apparation point with Professor Snape, though, with his long legs it was more the two walked behind and tried desperately to keep up. Once there, past the Burrow's wards, Hermione pulled Evie to her tightly. Professor Snape then grabbed Hermione's arm, not too tightly but firmly enough (his hands were cold and clammy), and the three were gone.
A/N: So here it is, the first letter. Sort of. I think this should count as the first letter, as it is the first one MEANT to be sent. I think it's obvious, but anyone know who No One is? Yeah, I know it's obvious... anyway. What do you guys think? How did you like Snape officially meeting Evie? Wasn't that adorable? What do you think of the letters? Both, hers and his? I tried to stay as in character as possible, but obviously there's going to be some out of character in here. And spoilers. Duh. Did you like her conversation with Fleur?
Next chapter will have another letter, London, Diagon Alley, Malfoy, and then in chapter six we are off to Hogwarts. Whoo hoo! I am about to start chapter six, and I have finished chapter five. I hope you guys liked this. Tell me what you liked, or if there's something you'd like to see. Or see more of. I personally like where I'm going with making Fleur more of an important character, but after Hogwarts we won't be seeing much if any of her.
Dasvidanya, Mia.
