A/N: Finals are done. Christmas is around the corner. I'm working like a dog. But I'm using my free time to sing and to write. Life is good.
CHAPTER 7: THE SNAPE PROGRESS
1998
McGonagall was completely swarmed with extra work now that her favorite student disappeared. Stressed with the added pressures of the Ministry, and he own concern for the young woman, she exhaled and took off her spectacles, hoping that massaging her face would rid the tension that permanently resided in her muscles.
The Ministry was mad. There was no way Hermione Granger, recipient of the Order of Merlin: First Class, could ever be capable of casting an Unforgivable Curse, not to mention stealing such a dangerous yet invaluable project.
Then again, the war surely took a toll on everyone. And as Dumbledore always said, there was a little Darkness in everyone. However, the intent to act on it was a person's decision.
There was a sharp rapt on her door. "Come in!" she called out.
Harry and Ron rushed in frantically. "Headmistress," Harry panted, "Please don't tell me the Ministry has contacted you."
She folded her hands together. "I'm afraid they have, Potter. And the news they bring me is grave. Have you heard anything from Miss Granger?"
Ron slowly approached her desk with the letter in his hand. "This note pretty much confirms the worst, Headmistress. She's all but said she's guilty."
McGonagall quickly put her glasses back on and read over the letter a few times, denying that Hermione could do something so drastic. "Oh dear. She really has done it then." Her brow furrowed. " 'He didn't have to die?' Who is she referring to?"
The older woman looked at the boys, particularly Ronald, who currently was clenching his jaw and staring venomously at the walls covered in portraits. "Just guess, Professor," he snapped.
She quickly turned her head to see if Severus was in his portrait. Naturally, he was not to be seen. But McGonagall could not deny that was probably the person Hermione was risking her future for.
"I don't understand. I know she was quite upset when he wasn't exonerated. But if she gave the world more time…"
"Let's face it, Headmistress. Hermione after the war is not the Hermione we all knew. Perhaps it's a good thing she called off the engagement. I would have been destined for a marriage where my wife would be devoted to efforts of another man who wasn't her husband. What kind of matrimony would that be?"
Ron's hands were clenched into fists, trying to keep himself under control while McGonagall rushed over to console him. "I'm sorry you have to go through this, Ron. But you make a fair assessment. Hermione obviously needs to sort through her own issues. It wouldn't be fair to you if you said your vows fully and she made a half hearted attempt at hers." She rubbed his back soothingly. "It's all for the best, Mr. Weasley."
He pulled away. Her efforts of comfort were accepted, but his vicious gaze returned to the wall behind her. "It always comes back to Snape, though."
Harry, behind Ron, was starting to understand the severity of what Hermione just did. "She could undo everything, couldn't she, Professor."
For a moment, a flicker of fear passed through the older witch's eyes. "Let us hope, Potter, that it doesn't come down to a phenomenal paradox of our world."
Harry shook his head. "How could she do something so…so…selfish? This is the most irrational thing she's ever done! She was in the front lines. She knew everything that we had to do to bring down Voldemort. And she is just going risk everything to 'rescue' Snape? He was noble, I understand, and he paid the price for his choices, and he died for the Cause. It couldn't have been more of an honorable way to die."
"But no one believes that, save you and me, mate," Ronald whispered dejectedly. "If only we helped her exonerate him earlier…"
"This is not your fault, Weasley," McGonagall retorted. "We all know Hermione to be hard headed and determined to succeed at everything she put forth effort into. Although it's frightening to think about, we have to trust her reasoning and her plans."
Harry sighed. "And how are we to know what she's planning on doing, Professor? The only thing we know so far is that she's at Hogwarts in 1977."
McGonagall sat back down behind her desk and grabbed clean parchment and a quill. "Well, I was already into my teaching career back then. Obviously, my past memories will change as soon as I meet Miss Granger. We can possibly keep track of her that way. And maybe contact other students who may have…will run into her then as well." She sighed. "These next few months are going to be very complicated, Potter."
Harry swallowed. "And what's going to happen when she returns, Professor?"
The fear passed through her eyes once more, but they didn't leave as she said the inevitable. "If the damage she does is not severe, Potter, she still may never see the light of day again." The silence in the room was deafening. "Boys, I suggest we strive to live our day to day lives as normally as possible. The Ministry has promised to keep the investigation in the dark until she returns. Until then, we have to stay strong."
Ron sighed. "Of course. But, if you do hear anything new, let us know. I'm sure Harry will hear enough, but just in case…" his voice faded.
McGonagall nodded and then politely dismissed the young men from her office. The peacefulness of her office allowed her to rack her memory to see if any glimpse of Hermione was present. Still, no sign of the past seemed to be altered. She exhaled exasperatedly. Harry was right. This was the most selfish thing she could do.
All of the sudden, McGonagall felt like her head was going to explode with pain. It was so unexpected she gasped out loud. "Merlin's beard! What is going on here?"
"I think," she heard a dark voice coming from the usual empty portrait, "That you have finally met the infamous Hermione Granger."
The pain was so intense McGonagall was tempted to upset her stomach. "Severus? Are you quite sure?" She managed to open her eyes whist the sharp daggers of her headache continued to havoc her head. Hatred was written throughout his countenance.
"Of course. I may be a portrait, a shadow of my former self, but I'd still remember if a selfish, irrational Gryffindor suddenly appeared in the middle of my last year of school with no explanation," he spat.
Suddenly, the Headmistress's mind was altering her memories of the past. A vision of a young new Gryffindor in her classes traced her mind. She shook her head and that helped settle the images.
Still, if all the memories would result in that much effort to retrieve, McGonagall thought she could never survive the next few months. "Welcome to Hogwarts, Miss Granger," she whispered, lowering her head into her hands.
1977
Despite having full experience of taking classes, Hermione couldn't help the apprehensive feelings that took over her stance. Luckily at breakfast, she was enthusiastically, albeit unattractively distracted by Potter and Black participating in an eating contest. But as she walked down the familiar corridors to her lessons, a part of her tried to reason how the classes couldn't be any different than the ones she took in her own career at Hogwarts.
Her first lesson was Advanced Transfiguration. Hermione quickly made her way to an available desk toward the back of the classroom. She didn't want to be the center of attention, but it was obvious the professor would notice that she was a new student. Perhaps Dumbledore already mentioned it to the teachers that she would only continue classes and not require any special attention.
Hermione was frantic in getting her books and parchment ready for the lesson. Lily luckily was trying to ease her mind, telling her that the Transfiguration curriculum was standard for anyone their age. After dropping her quills for the fourth time, Hermione heard the door of the classroom shut and the entire class grew quiet.
Hermione straightened in her seat, exhaling. It wouldn't do well for her performance if she was nervous. However, all her anxiety disappeared when her eyes saw the professor in the room.
Minerva McGonagall, a familiar face. Yet, so surprisingly young. Her hair was as stark black as her former Potions Master, with the exception of having a silky shine to it and a few sparce gray hairs entreating under her pointed hat. Hermione noted as well that the woman in front of her still had some youthful vibrance, yet the terseness Hermione associated Professor McGonagall with was just starting to prevail in her teaching style.
"Good morning, class," McGonagall began, "We will be continuing our discussion about partial human transfiguration." McGonagall adjusted her glasses on her nose, setting up her magical projector on the front blackboard. She then made her way to her desk to take attention. That was when she noticed Hermione.
"Ah. Of course. Everyone, we have a new student amongst us. Miss Hermione Granger, is it?"
Hermione swallowed nervously, already feeling the pangs of a new headache threatening to consume her. "Yes, Professor."
McGonagall approached her desk. "Do stand up and address the class. We would like to know more about you."
Reluctantly, Hermione stood as asked. She was wringing her hands together in a nervous hand gesture. "Well…my parents are ambassadors, and for the past six years I've been a student at Beauxbaton. However, my French is miserable, so I pretty much learned everything through private tutors. I do hope I'm not too far behind."
"Oh, you'll be just fine, Miss Granger. Dumbledore had much to say about your studies." McGonagall placed a roll of parchment on her desk. "But just to be sure, here is a little test to see how much you know about the subject. You'll note that the rest of your professors are following suit. It will help us place you in your studies here for the next few months."
McGonagall resumed her lecture while Hermione adjusted her seat to begin taking her placement exam. Hermione was happily aware that she was not behind in her studies. In fact, the curriculum must have changed within 20 years to include more information, because Hermione covered the majority of the material in her previous years at Hogwarts.
At the end of the lesson, Hermione remained behind to have McGonagall correct her exam. The professor was impressed at the timeliness of the student. For all the material on the test, she didn't expect Hermione to complete it in such short time. She was furthermore impressed with the marks the young lady earned on the exam.
"My, my, Miss Granger. Your tutors sure kept you on your toes. Very impressive." McGonagall put the exam away. "How about some practical transfiguration? Please turn this pin cushion into a parrot." Hermione did as she asked, and the parrot appeared, squawking annoyingly.
"How wonderful, Miss Granger! Clearly, you are just fine in this class. It is quite possible you are weeks ahead of us already. Do tell me who your tutors were. I must write them!"
Hermione stammered. "Well, they…" but luck was on her side once more, because as she began to stutter, the next Transfiguration class filed into the room, loudly and boisterously. Hermione noted the Mauraders were clearly not up to standards when it came to Transfiguration. If so, they would have been in the Advanced section of the course.
McGonagall stood up to maintain control of the class while Hermione snuck out. In the hallway, she leaned against the corridor wall, exhaling. That was a close call with McGonagall. She checked her watch and cursed inwardly. She was already late to her next class.
She bursted through the door almost ten minutes late, startling the Ancient Runes teacher, Professor Babbling. Hermione used the "I got lost—I'm a new student" excuse, which the professor accepted as legitimate. Hermione was still catching her breath by the time she made her way to an empty desk, so she never noticed that the desk she chose just so happened to be diagonal from one Severus Snape.
After having been interrupted, the class quickly resumed its prior status of being engrossed in the material presented to them. Hermione, like in her Transfiguration class, was presented with a placement exam. She was to translate a list of runes.
This exam was more difficult than her transfiguration one, and not just because of the material. Throughout the duration of the class, Hermione swore she felt the hair on the back of her neck prickle, as if someone was watching her.
About forty minutes into the exam, she had enough of that prickle and had to see where the source was from. With a quick turn in her chair, her brown eyes once again met the dark gaze of Snape.
Hermione caught herself before she got lost in those beautiful endless orbs. And finally, she mustered a similar challenging glare that he sent her. They must have been engrossed in the silent battle for too long, for the professor suddenly called out to the both of them.
"Mr. Snape. Miss Granger. Is there a problem you wish to discuss with me?"
Hermione snapped back forward facing the professor. "No, professor," she whispered.
Professor Babbling approached the two of them in the back of the classroom. "Cheating will not be tolerated in my classroom. Now, Miss Granger, this is only a placement exam, so it will not count against you. Answer what you know. Mr. Snape," she turned to face the Slytherin, "Mind your own work, and do not disrupt other students."
Snape slouched further into his desk. "Yes, professor," he grumbled.
For the rest of the class, Hermione managed to finish the test, but she had to restrain herself from snapping back at the boy, for she continued to feel that uncomfortable prickle on the back of her neck. She was grateful when she heard the chimes sound the end of the class period. She continued to sit in her desk while the students filed out of the classroom.
Evidently, Snape wanted to do the same thing, but gave up when he saw she wasn't leaving. Instead, he brushed past her, purposely bumping into her arm with a little excessive force. He never looked directly at her, and as Hermione watched him leave the classroom, she couldn't help notice that young Snape, in so many ways, exemplified her future potions teacher, from the way he walked to the way he held himself in public.
Especially in the way he walked. It was almost as intimidating. He must have perfected it since his school days. The only thing it lacked was the billowing robes.
Her exam was corrected, and although her marks were not as exceptional as her transfiguration ones, Professor Babblings still regarded her as qualified for that present Runes class.
The rest of her classes the rest of the week were of the same pattern. Placement testing, praise from the professors, and an extra weight lifted off her shoulders. A few of the teachers were interested in her future career path, offering any extra help to get Hermione one step closer to her goals in life.
When she returned to the girls' dormitory, she sat down on her bed and frowned. It wouldn't matter as to what her "future plans" entailed. There was no future for her when she returned home. Only if you counted a cell in Azkaban as a step ahead of the rest.
She read over her course listings once more and sighed. Of course. One class left and it had to be Advanced Potions. She was sure Snape would be there, and by the impression she saw from him in Ancient Runes, she was already far behind in her plans to get to know him.
Still, Hermione was there for that specific purpose: Snape. And she'd be damned if she didn't put in her best efforts to get his attention. Truth be told, even if they weren't friends yet, she at least knew he noticed her, which was a start.
Not many students must have passed their OWLS in potions. As Hermione entered the familiar potions classroom, she was one of eleven total students taking the course. Lily, Lupin, and herself represented Gryffindor. There were two Hufflepuffs, three Ravenclaws, and three Slytherin.
Hermione was feeling anxious once more. It was obvious that everyone in the class was already assigned a separate work station and team, and she would be the odd student out. Lily offered to pull up another chair to share hers and Lupin's as a temporary fix, so Hermione settled herself at the edge of the lab table.
She was surprised to see that Snape was not one of the Slytherins represented. Surprised, and also, a little put off.
Slughorn, with his jovial attitude, entered the classroom with enthusiasm. "Good afternoon class! I hope you all have had some time to continue research with your projects." He approached the blackboard and began outlining the lesson for the day. "Now, I've read over your theses and I'm much looking forward to what some of you can achieve with your research of enhancing these medicinal elixirs." He faced the class once more. "Ah! Miss Granger, may I presume? You are already the talk of the teachers' lounge, you are!"
Hermione shyly smiled and nodded, not expecting such a reaction from Slughorn. He beamed at her. "Yes, well now the pressure is on for you! I'm only expecting the best from you." He looked at their crowded work station. "Hmmm. This will not do. I'm afraid everyone has already been partnered up." He searched around the classroom. "Temporarily, Miss Granger, take the station in the back of the classroom. One of my advanced students usual has that station to himself, but I'm sure he can offer you a little room for your placement brews."
Three guesses who that station usually belonged to, Hermione thought. Still, she was conflicted. Should she be overjoyed that Snape was going to be there in the same classroom as her like an equal, or should she be compelled to run as far away from that situation as possible? She wished she could opt for the latter, for Lily's sympathetic gaze was her confirmation that Snape definitely would be sharing his space with her. And judging from the way he behaved in Runes, he would be less than enthusiastic at the arrangement.
As the class resumed, the rest of the students continued to research and experiment on their projects. Hermione was getting her cauldron set up, reading over the potions Slughorn assigned for her as a placement test.
"Now, some of these seem slightly behind what we are currently doing. We brewed them last year as a part of the curriculum. But do what you can and we will go from there. If you need anything, just ask Mr. Snape when he returns from the Hospital Wing. I swear, our Mediwitch would sooner have him chained to the walls of the Infirmary to brew potions than to complete his seventh year!" Slughorn instructed and chuckled before returning to his desk.
Looking over the list, Hermione once again noticed that the curriculum in the past 20 years was further behind what it currently was. She brewed most of the potions right before O.W.L.S. She exhaled happily. She wasn't going to be too far behind in any of her classes.
She was slicing her shrivel fig when she felt that familiar tingle behind her neck, and that tingle was followed by an enthusiastic slamming of books on the stone floor, and a loud scraping of the metal stool next to her.
She stopped her movements and set down the knife to brush the hair out of her eyes. She could tell the boy standing next to her was not happy with the new arrangement, but it wasn't like she had any control of the situation.
Turning her head only confirmed her suspicion. Severus Snape, in his youthful appearance of 17, was maliciously glaring at Hermione Granger.
"Care to tell me why you are occupying my work station?" he spat venomously.
Even though Hermione kept her cool for their first two meetings, she felt threatened this time around. Perhaps it was because she was in the dungeon, where she would meet him in 14 or 15 years, or the close proximity was overbearing. Either way, her response was weak.
"I'm sorry. All the other stations are full, and well, Professor Slughorn told me to move back here. I won't be long, I promise."
Snape exhaled exasperatedly and shook his head. He then approached the professor's desk, obviously stating his complaints about the new student interfering with his work. Severus, however, returned with no improvement to the situation.
He turned toward Hermione. "If you even disturb me for one second, Granger, I'll make sure you are sent back to remedial potions," and with that he began working.
Hermione continued her assignment, constantly looking over her shoulder to observe Snape. Both out of curiosity for him, and for his work.
Once her work was completed, she had to let her concoction brew for 20 minutes. Not thinking she had enough time to start any other projects, she began cleaning up her area of the work table, all the while stealing glances at Snape. With his intense focus on his work, he was a lot more relaxed, and Hermione smiled at the fact.
One thing that she was having a hard time accepting was this new version of Snape, or rather, this "previous" version. She acknowledged once more that this Snape was a predecessor of the man she would eventually meet. But she noticed how his bone structure, so precise and strong along his jaw, was in a way appealing to the eye. His features, although not handsome in the traditional sense, was almost aristocratic. And the way he held himself, it suited him just fine. It demanded respect just like in the artistic fashion he commanded a classroom.
His face did not reveal any sign of damage or horror that she was aware of. Hermione understood from what Harry said, Snape's life at home was less than loving, but one could have easily missed that. He hid his troubles very well. The age lines and tension in his face were nonexistent. His nose, although still abnormally large, was set straight. He must have ended up breaking it later on in his life.
Severus Snape, to Hermione, was simply…young.
Hermione was drawn out of her reverie at the sound of Snape slamming down his knife. "You know, you could take a bloody picture," obviously alluding to the common Muggle retort.
Hermione was startled and jumped back slightly. "Sorry," she feebly whispered.
Snape shook his head, but his attention was drawn to her cauldron, and he furrowed his brow. Hermione inwardly smirked. She knew for a fact her potion was turning out perfectly. Judging by Snape's reaction, he knew it too.
When they made eye contact again, Hermione noted that his expression, although usually cold and distant, softened a bit. It didn't hold as much disdain as before. Perhaps he was impressed with her potion making skills.
Hermione then studied the contents of his cauldron from afar. Puffer fish eyes and Belladonna strewed his area of the table "Veritaserum?" She asked politely.
Once again, he was surprised. "Yes…well, it has to brew for a few more weeks. But I'm surprised you knew."
Hermione shrugged. "The ingredients gave it away."
"Of course," he said, still behaving as if he was skeptical of her knowledge of potions.
Not knowing how to continue the conversation, Hermione left Snape to his work. Slughorn eventually approached her cauldron and praised her results.
"Why, Miss Granger. This just might be the best Confunding Elixir I have ever seen brewed in the shortest amount of time! Well done! How about next class we'll have you brew a more complicated potion, and from there we'll squeeze you into our research projects."
She smiled proudly. For some reason, his praise in front of Snape seemed even more worth it. As she cleared the contents of the cauldron, she laughed out loud, reminiscing the fiasco in her sixth year, where Harry turned out to be the star pupil of their Potions Class.
"What, may I ask, is so humoring to you, Granger?" Snape interrupted her thoughts.
She smiled. "Your curiosity, Snape," she responded, still amused.
He was put off by her blatant disregard of answering his question. "If you don't mind, some people are actually trying to work and advance our futures. Go back with your Gryffindor compatriots and give me back my space."
She didn't was to destroy all the "Snape" progress she made that class period, so she returned to the table with Remus and Lily, just as he requested. But as she sat back down, she frowned. If she was going to take baby steps when dealing with Snape, by the time she had to go back to the present time, she would have barely spent any time getting to know him. She could tell Snape didn't trust people too easily.
Hermione raised her hand within the last five minutes of class. "Professor, I was wondering whether I could stay after class to brew the rest of the potions on the list. I don't want to get too far behind."
Slughorn pondered her request and saw her point. "That is not a bad idea, Miss Granger. I would enjoy seeing your work in action. Monitor your technique and such. Yes, do stay after class."
Hermione straightened up, excited for more than one reason. Especially as she heard the almost inaudible groan coming behind her from the Slytherin. She could barely suppress her grin at the sound. Her assumptions were correct that Snape would continue his independent research after this current class period.
Hermione bid farewell to Lily and Remus and quickly set up her cauldron once more, only this time it wasn't at Snape's work station. Her Draught of the Living Death would be more complicated than the Confunding Concoction she just finished preparing. Slughorn left the classroom for a spell when she began to work with the ingredients.
Quickly, she noticed Snape was no longer at his work station, because she felt his intense scrutiny as she began working with the pods. It was not unlike the way he used to observe her brewing when she was in his classroom. It did not make her any less nervous.
She never looked up at him. She didn't want to give him the pleasure of knowing that he, in one way or another, intimidated her. But her hands betrayed her, and the knife missed the bean she was trying to slice.
"No, no, no, Granger. Don't try to cut the bean. Crush it with your blade like this," he gently took of the knife from her grasp, demonstrating. "It will release the juices better."
To say that Hermione was surprised at his helpful nature would have been an understatement. He continued to crush the bean pods while she finally turned her head to look at him, complete awestricken at his…politeness and…patience.
"Thanks," she quietly managed to respond after the initial shock wore off. She went back to the instructions list to continue the next step. "So, the next step would be…"
Snape snorted quietly and motioned for her to slide over to make more room for him at the station. "Here, I'll assist you. I do enjoy brewing this potion, and pretty much have it memorized. This is the potion I altered last year for the class project. You saw them working on the research today." She could see the pure joy in his eyes as he began helping her brew.
She remembered again how Harry managed to brew the best Draught of the Living Death, how it was near perfection, and her admiration for Snape escalated further. "You were absolutely brilliant with this potion, Snape. Truly, you're a genius."
He abruptly stopped his slicing. "I haven't mentioned anything about the alterations to you, Granger."
Bollocks! "Oh…well…just from what I've seen so far. The crushing instead of the slicing. And just by…observing you in the last lesson. You turn brewing into an art form."
It didn't seem like he bought her poor cover. And then Hermione made the mistake of making direct eye contact with Snape. His eyes, so dark, so enticing, were not wavering. She knew she could get lost in them. But then she felt a prodding into the back of her mind, as if an outside force was trying to break in.
She quickly broke the eye contact and shook her head. She knew exactly what he was up to. "I'd appreciate it if you wouldn't try breaking into my thoughts again, Snape." She snapped, returning back to the potion.
The once pleasant work area was tense once more. "Well, who better to practice my Legilimency skills on than a pathological liar?"
"Here's a new tactic for you. Mind your own business! Hasn't butting into other people's affairs hurt you enough before? Learn from your mistakes!"
Snape stiffened, obviously insulted by her retort. "That's what you will get by only hearing one side of the story, Granger. You know nothing. Nothing about me. Nothing about my past, and surely nothing valid or of truth if you consort with Gryffindors."
Hermione brushed the hair out of her face with the back of her hand. "Though I'm sure they would love to tell me entertaining stories of your failures here, they are not my sources."
She resumed her chopping as Snape glared down at her. "I don't believe you for a moment, Granger. But I assure you, one day I will figure you out. And I will use any means necessary to do so."
Snape already knew how to play the game of intimidation. He let his threat hang heavy in the air, but she didn't want to give him the satisfaction that he had an influence on her.
Of course, even with the little time she spent with him, Hermione knew Snape was already getting to her. She just was unsure in what ways.
That's the second fact in less than two hours I'm unsure of. Get. A. Grip, Granger! She cursed inwardly.
The rest of the lesson was a blur. Because of her nasty verbal attack, Snape returned to his own cauldron, ignoring the Gryffindor for the rest of the session. Slughorn returned and mostly focused on what Severus was doing with his work. Hermione was grateful. Even though her potion was less than exceptional, perhaps mediocre of sorts, she accepted it, because she wanted nothing more than to be in a different room, away from Snape.
He definitely had the upper hand on her. If she was to protect her identity, Hermione had no other choice but to rush to the library as soon as the potion was completed, bottled, and turned in. Snape's Legilimency skills were only going to improve as the weeks went on, and her guard was only going to soften when it came to him.
It was as good of a time as any to start learning Occlumency.