Disclaimer: Because I bloody forgot to include it before - I don't own Harry Potter or anything from the book, those are J. 's property. I'm just playing with it.
Chapter 4: The art to slither in.
Hermione followed a younger version of Professor Slughorn, and much slimmer too if she wanted to be truthful. He had not changed personality-wise over time however, he still thrived in collecting "interesting" people, so she tried to be as inconspicuous as possible, denying fervently any connection to the world-famous relic-hunter Juneas Greenhorn.
She was briefly introduced to those present in the common-room as a transfer student and left in the hands of the bored-looking 5th year prefect named Osmunda Pucey who made a quick gesture of her hand for Hermione to follow her down a passageway. She was relieved to leave the common-room, all the students present had been appraising her, trying no doubt to spot any weakness and she was not so good at keeping a blank face. She would have to work hard on that.
Pucey led her to a bedroom that was divided into four private alcoves, each furnished with a four-posters bed, heavily curtained in green velvet, a trunk resting at t's foot. Next to it lay an imposing desk and leather armchair. It seemed Slytherins had higher standards than Gryffindor, as it was very different from the bedrooms she had known in Gryffindor tower, where there was no sense of individual personal space.
This should be helpful, particularly if I don't get along with my room-mates.
"Your bed is right here Greenhorn. It seems you trunk was already forwarded during the day. And Ermy saw your pet scuttling under your bed. It scared her out of her skin if you ask me, although she won't admit it." Pucey winked at her before resuming her bored expression and monotone voice.
"You'll be sharing the room with Ermengard Flint -that's Ermy by the way- , Dorwyn Runcorn and myself. You may ask me anything if you have a question. I am a Prefect, after all." And with that, she twirled gracefully around, and tactfully left Hermione to unpack.
Was that a Slytherin way to say welcome? "I can help you but won't say it openly in case you take advantage of it." Merlin, being a Slytherin will be exhausting! Still, I imagined it would be a lot worse, maybe the girls in Slytherin weren't so bad.
She then thought of Pansy Parkinson, Millicent Bullstrode and Bellatrix Lestrange.
Or maybe they are.
Hermione moved to open her trunk but couldn't, it seemed to be magically locked. Of course, Dumbledore wasn't about to leave unattended her personal items amongst a horde of Slytherins. She could see no mechanism so she deduced it must be password-locked. Making sure she was well alone, she murmured:
"Hermione...Phoenix...Time...Dumbledore..." and then it hit her "Knitting patterns!"
"Click" went the trunk.
Once opened, Hermione mentally listed all the contents: books, potion ingredients and writing material, school robes, spare shoes and clothes, some looked very odd but she thought she could fix them easily enough with a few transfiguration spells, everyday bathroom necessities and … make-up? Really? Professor Dumbledore is a little scary sometimes. She also found a small purse containing a few galleons and sickles along with an envelope addressed to her fake self: Mirage Greenhorn.
Dear Mirage, it read,
I hope your belongings find you well. If you forgot something -anything- however, you have only to ask your old doting godfather and I'll send it to you. I included a small allowance for your outings to Hogsmead with your new friends, as I'm sure you will enjoy such a typical wizarding British town.
Please take good care of your new pet. The huge man I brought it from in Diagon Alley said it was his own new breed and called it a Jarveazle, I'm sure you'll enjoy it very much. Unfortunately, it is one of a kind as the seller was forbidden by his employer to continue his experimental breeding -it seems it is somewhat illegal- so please be discreet about it, as I well know you can be.
I look forward to hearing about your classes, my dear girl.
Take care,
Your Godfather,
Ashram Teed
The letter was clearly written by Dumbledore, but she had never heard of one Ashram Teed. She hoped the Headmaster had not confided in anyone about her, well except to Professor McGonagall. She wouldn't mind as she had always thought they were something of an item. A first look told her it was not an anagram of his own name. Teed was an old name in the wizarding world, she had come across it from time to time in her manuals. What did the headmaster have in mind then? The headmaster...Hermione mused, checked quickly and smiled. Of course.
Now, her only concern was to discover what could possibly be lurking under her bed.
The huge man described in the letter can only be Hagrid but his idea of breeding usually consists of mixing a dangerous animal with an even more lethal one. He made his students buy snarling biting maniacal books for Merlin's sake!
Please don't let it be a snake, or an Accromantula, please please please!
She groaned, got on all fours and peered under the bed where the beast was last seen. Golden eyes flashed back at her and she panted in fright.
"Hum... hello there. Don't be afraid, come here, I won't bite you." she cooed in a trembling voice.
"No, but I might." a voice snarled right back at her.
Hermione jumped up in fright and struck the back of her head against the wooden bedframe. Taking advantage of a moment of weakness, the creature slunk out of its hiding place and sat provocatively close to the girl's face. She opened her eyes once the pain subsided and stared at the golden-eyed monster.
"A Kneazle! And here I was afraid of having to care for a Blast-ended Skrewt or something! But...I thought I heard someone? Is anyone here?" she turned around and asked the room at large.
"Well, of course I am here, but if you intend to insult me any longer I might as well leave." said a voice close to the ground.
Hermione looked at the Kneazle in bewilderment.
"It's you...you're talking...a talking cat!" she stammered.
"And here the old man said you were bright, I can't tell you how disappointed I am." it said, flicking its tail.
"But I've never heard of such a thing before!"
"Neither will anyone else!" It spat "I don't intend to be made a spectacle of, I enjoy my sleep too much. I am one of a kind or so I've been told. The big man told me I'm part Jarvey, which explains my vocal capacities."
"Jarvey? Oh, the swearing ferret?" she asked "But they're not capable of conversing, they're only good at insulting people, although Ron swears he once heard one talk dirty."
"Exactly." agreed the Kneazle "Because they lack intelligence..."
"...which a Kneazle doesn't!" finished Hermione.
The golden eyes scrutinized her and the creature declared:
"Maybe we will manage to get along after all, I may adopt you yet, little girl."
Hermione laughed at such witticism, it was probably more cunning than some people she knew. She was delighted to have such company. She now understood why the Jarveazle had a much slimmer and sinewy body than her own half-cat half-Kneazle Crookshanks, often referred to by others as "Bloody Fur-ball".
"I understand you met the headmaster, Dumbledore? Why did he tell Hagrid not to cross-breed Jarveys and Kneazles?" She asked. "It must be the single most brilliant idea he ever had!"
"The old man was afraid the big man would be taken to Azkaban for illegal experimenting in hybrid magical beings. I gathered he was already on probation for such a thing." It smirked and added: "Personally, I think the old man is terrified Jarveazles would soon rule this land if left to our own devices. He's probably right too, if I'm anything to go by."
"Do you have a name? I'm sorry, I don't even know if you're male or female? Or is that just rude of me?"
"I'm quite the lady, and the big man called me "Aren't-you-the-cutest-little-beast-ever?" but I would rather you did not call me that." it said with a moue of disgust.
"How about Purrdita?" she offered after a minute's shakespearian thought.
"It sounds delightful, quite like me. Well done my little human, you may call me that."
Hermione laughed. If she had been afraid of feeling lonely, that fear had been dealt with thanks to her "Godfather", it almost felt like she really had a family caring for her when in fact, her parents had not even met yet.
"What's so funny?" asked a young girl's voice behind her.
Hermione was startled, she had not heard the door open. Did those Slytherins have to be so sneaky all the time?
"Pucey! You startled me! Hum, my familiar was just making a funny face...?" I really have to learn to be a better liar too. But Purrdita complied and pulled its tongue out.
"So that's the beast who scared poor Ermy. Doesn't look so ferocious to me. Slyterins don't care much for pets usually, except for owls, because they're so useful. So it shouldn't be bothered by anyone." explained the prefect. "Here, I actually came to give you your class schedule. You only missed a week of class so it should be easy to catch up."
Quite easy indeed, I already passed these classes. It's going to be boring really.
Hermione nodded noncommittally and caught her room-mate's inquiring gaze.
"I checked out the classes you're taking." she said as way of explanation.
Doing it is very Slytherin, admitting to it is not...unless she wants to find something out. She looked over her schedule but found nothing out of the ordinary about it.
"You're seriously taking that many then? I thought there must have been some mistake. You're some kind of genius then? That's great!"
"Err, if you say so." she answered, anxious to let go of the subject. Way to blend in, Hermione. How could we not have seen this coming? And she finished unpacking pondering on how the brightest people could sometimes overlook the simplest details.
Hermione had had trouble finding sleep that night, too anxious about her "first" day of class with more Slytherins than she thought she could handle. She feared she would recognize some of them from the Battle of the Department of Mysteries or from the other battle too, right before she was sent here... She also missed her parents and worried about never seeing them again, nor Harry or Ron, or any other person who knew who she really was.
The next morning, Hermione sleepily went to the great hall for breakfast, staying a few steps behind Pucey and Flint pretending to be accompanying them. Flint seemed nice enough: she was a small shy girl with black silky hair and unfortunate teeth – Wizards could really use dentists, magic can't fix everything it seems.
She briefly saw Runcorn that morning and had introduced herself but the rude girl had brushed her off with a sneer as if she wasn't worthy of her time. At least she knew where she stood with that one. She was more worried about Pucey's friendliness since Slytherins never did anything out of kindness, there was always a price to pay, or so she had been told.
She stopped at the doors to look at the students milling about, everything was so familiar, and yet it wasn't at the same time. Suddenly, someone bumped into her from behind sending her off-balance.
"Don't just stand there gawking, get out of the way!" said a harsh voice.
She turned around and went as white as a ghost. Sirius was glaring contemptibly at her.
Merlin's books! Hermione had hoped not to see him or any of the Marauders at all, as it was a liability to the future as she knew it, but Fate must have been bored enough to set this up. She almost stumbled, as she was still off-balance, but an arm slid around her waist and helped her back on her feet. Looking around, she saw a young Professor Lupin glancing sheepishly at her and Harry's almost flawless copy scrutinizing her from head to foot.
Great, this is just great. Why don't you just go and kick the future you know into oblivion while you're at it.
"Hey, aren't you the girl we found on the grounds a week ago?" asked Harry's Doppelgänger. Even the voice was similar, it was unnerving.
Hermione gave him a blank look of incomprehension and she didn't even have to fake it this time.
"So it is! Hello there, banshee!" Sirius cut in, leaning in to get a better look at her.
"Sirius! Can't you be civil to anyone? Sorry about that." Remus said to Hermione.
"Don't be, Moony. Look at that, she's a Slytherin!" he spat "We had to go and rescue a bloody Slytherin, what a waste of time. We should've left the filthy thing on the dirt where she belongs."
Hermione was too stunned for words, she just stood there, wounded by Sirius' words. he had been a friend once and she felt tears rising from the shock.
Just then, a solid black mass stepped between her and the group of boys and hid her line of sight.
"Picking on girls now, Black? Run out of first years and kittens to torment?" said a voice, barely controlled with rage.
"Oh, finally got yourself a girlfriend Snivellus? A Banshee is just the perfect match for you. Only a monster would date you!" Sirius guffawed, taking out his wand.
"Black!" bellowed a familiar voice Hermione attributed to Professor Mcgonagall. "You put that wand away NOW! If you dare disrupt my breakfast once more, I'll have you hanging by the toes in Filch's Oubliettes for a week!"
Hermione had never heard her Head of House that angry after so little provocation, not even with Fred and George, but she had heard that the Marauders had been more that a handful so she wasn't that surprised either.
The Gryffindors left reluctantly and her protector turned on her, eyes blazing and cheeks splotched with red. Hermione was awe-struck. Those black angry eyes, the greasy black hair and that nose could only belong to one person: her hateful, cruel and temperamental Potion Master and, for the first time of his life, he had done something nice for her. Severus Snape. Well I'll be damned!
"I know you're new here, but stay far away from those brainless prats if you don't want to come to any harm. Hexing Slytherins is a sport to them, particularly if they're alone."
"Yes, sir" she answered automatically and blushed as soon as the words had left her mouth.
"Are you mocking me?" he questioned angrily.
"No, si...No." she squeaked.
"Right." he replied dubiously. "You'd better meet up with your little friends now." And he was off before she could utter another word.
Hermione was too pent-up emotionally and didn't have the heart to swallow one crumb of toast or a mere sip of tea right then. Verbally assaulted by someone she cared for, and saved from harm by someone who had always despised her and was probably a murderer. Completely isolated and forced to live a lie. A nervous break-down was already looming near but she couldn't, she was stronger than that, or at least she had always thought so and she refused to disappoint herself.
Lost in thought, Hermione realised that if she didn't hurry up, she would be late for her first class. She ran all the way and just made it in time to the Potions classroom. She realised the Marauders would be there and groaned, she'd rather face Death Eaters right now, at least it felt right.
A/N: Please, review! I hope I'm going in the right direction and not getting boring (Jarveazles are cool though, right?) so tell me your thoughts :)