More Than Expected - by Clover Bay
On the first day of classes, Hermione projected a concise, no-nonsense approach to the students. She didn't smile, she didn't joke with them, nor did she ask if they enjoyed their summer breaks. The hourglass had been turned and it was now a race against time to have them fully prepared for their end-of-level exams.
After discussing the syllabus, she drew their attention back to the first week outlined and asked one of the students to read Friday's assignment: a comprehensive test over all of the material they should have learned up to their year level. The only exception being the first years whom Hermione would have direct control over their progress. The shocked faces and mutterings were silenced by her quick control of the room. For a petite witch, she certainly perfected the intimidating teacher persona - complete with 'the look' that could bore through a student and authoritative tone of voice. If she wanted a reputation as a hard-ass teacher, she earned it that day. Without deducting a single house-point or issuing a detention, she had gotten their attention. Now, she thought, I can finally teach.
From the other side of the teachers' desk, a distrustful bunch of seventh years sat before her skeptically appraising their seventh teacher in as many years. This was nothing new to them. The headmaster would find whomever he could and let them 'teach' until they finally gave up and ran the class much like a study hall. Unlike their previous years, they really needed this class; without it, doors would be closed to them and their job hunt would be severely limited. A few of their fathers had even looked into hiring private tutors for them during the winter break and into the spring term.
When Professor Granger commanded their attention and put them into an alphabetical seating arrangement, they still weren't the least bit phased. This, too, was familiar. What took them by surprise, though, was the appearance of a year-long syllabus that she wandlessly placed onto their desks in front of them with a wave of her hand. Impressive for this classroom, but something that should be commonplace in Charms. 'At least she is competent', they thought, though they were still sizing her up so they refrained from saying as much.
The seventh years, unlike many of their younger counterparts, sat a little straighter when she began to speak in earnest.
"I am Professor Granger, and from this moment forward, you will have to earn the right to continue with this class. Foolishness, half-hearted attempts, and laziness will not be tolerated. You are here," she waved her hand in a sweeping motion to gesture the classroom, "because you have a desire to achieve NEWT scores that will enable you to pursue the profession of your choosing."
"As of this moment, I have no faith in your abilities in the area of charms. Your only viable reason for your present location," again she referenced their desks in the room, "are your OWL scores. When you can prove to me that you truly belong in this class, I'll give you every tool available to help you ace your NEWTs."
She made a point of looking each of the fifteen students in the eyes before continuing. "I'll be the best letter of recommendation an employer could hope to receive. I'll be the professor you owl when you've published your latest article and have the Charms world clamoring at your feet." She paused to give them a moment to envision their future selves in those situations.
"You will have your first opportunity to demonstrate this on Friday. Now, please take your syllabi and follow along as I explain the assignments for the upcoming year . . . ."
Professor Granger had the attention of every face in the room. She'd called them out and challenged their abilities, promised them studies they had only seen in the likes of McGonagall's classroom and Snape's dungeons, and she had tempted them with greatness. Despite the initial bitchiness of her tone, she'd given them something they hadn't expected for this time slot in their schedules - hope of passing their NEWTs.
It was a similar speech that she gave to the sixth years later in the morning. But, the second year class that met directly before lunch heard no such promises. The written and practical lesson she thrust upon them left them too busy to grumble or complain about their newest professor. And, if she had her way, every lesson for fourth year and lower would proceed much the same way. Discipline, hard work, and no idle time would consume the classes, leaving them no choice but to be prepared for their own end-of-level exams.
By lunch time, Professor Granger had successfully made a name for herself as a demanding teacher. The news spread quickly among the students that not only were you supposed to show up with your book (something that became optional at the end of last year), but you should be ready to work - on the first day of classes! The most scandalous piece of gossip coursing through the student tables was that she planned to give a test at the end of the week.
As Hermione seated herself at the head table, she saw Severus scowl and overheard him grumbling about his morning. "Is it too much trouble to ask that students not blow up the potions' lab during the first lesson of the new year?!"
The rhetorical question went unanswered by most of the table, each one used to his snarkiness. Hermione, though, replied dryly, "it would seem so."
With a quirk of his eyebrow, he returned her smirk, "indeed."
The others at the table were a bit shocked at their conversation. Severus was notorious for his sour expressions and no one, not even the headmaster, bothered to answer when he started muttering about the dunderheads' latest attempts to knock out a few of the walls supporting the potions' classroom. Either Professor Granger didn't know any better, or she was unaffected by his attitude.
"Which one was it?" she asked referring to the student who tried to blow up the dungeon as she scanned the student tables.
"Three o'clock. Blonde-haired Hufflepuff wearing his robe inside out."
Hermione had to cough to disguise the unladylike snort that almost escaped her. This one did look like he could would have trouble brewing potions - he couldn't even dress himself properly. "Thanks for the warning. I'll keep an eye out for him this afternoon."
She glanced at him before lowering her fork back to her plate. The morning had been long and she was starving but she refused to scarf down her food. She was ever mindful of the hundreds of students, dozens of whom at any time looked toward the head table. For this reason, she schooled her features offering a neutral expression.
At the Ravenclaw table, several of the upper years cast glances in the new professor's direction as they talked about their morning. Stephen, a seventh-year prefect held their attention, "She seems to be channeling Snape with the load she plans to give us."
There were murmurs of agreement as he continued. "Mark my words," he said while waving his spoon around for emphasis, "it'll get worse before it gets better."
"What do you know that we don't?" Benji asked.
"Nothing, but I've just got this feeling. Besides," he added with a superior look, "I'm a Ravenclaw."
They laughed with him as he said the last bit even though they silently agreed with his rationale.
And, so, the week continued with Professor Granger reviewing and teaching as if it were May instead of September. Stephen had guess correctly, it would become much more demanding in the next week - especially for those who did not perform well on Friday's tests.
For Hermione, she was buried by the mountain of tests she needed to grade over the weekend. With six of the seven years taking comprehensive exams, she ended up missing both breakfasts and lunches as she slaved away in her office. She'd not seen the inside of the teacher's lounge nor so much as a trace of laying cards in her 'off' time, but she finally emerged Sunday evening to patrol the halls. The papers had been marked, the study schedules created, and at long last the weekend was almost over.
She was pleasantly surprised to find Severus patrolling that evening as well. "I was wondering who my partner would be tonight," Hermione said with a tired smile.
With a slight nod, he said in a tone he reserved only for her, "I hope you're not disappointed."
"Of course not! Pleasantly surprised in fact." Shaking her head slightly, she realized she was staring at him so she turned and they began their rounds. His five-o'clock shadow was teasing her again. "I wanted to thank you for the lovely owl. I've kept him in a very prominent place on my desk."
Severus was a little uncomfortable at being thanked. He'd gotten the owl on a whim when he was in Diagon Alley after recalling a conversation they had where she told him how much she liked the friendly birds. After receiving her first letter by owl inviting her to the magical world, she became entranced with the beautiful creatures. He wanted to give her a token to welcome her further than his mere words.
At his lack of response, Hermione tried to fill the silence and said, "I wanted to tell you Monday morning at breakfast, but was afraid it would embarrass you and draw too much attention from the others."
"You're remarkably perceptive," he said in his smooth, baritone voice. "And, you're welcome." He wanted to say more, but he was a reserved man so they lapsed into a comfortable quietness as they moved toward the astronomy tower looking for errant students who were out after curfew.
After a while, he commented on her absence from the Great Hall over the weekend. As she explained her grading endeavors, she went on to discuss her plans for the upcoming week. "I know it will be added work on my part, but I refuse to let these students fall further behind. And, well, on a more personal level . . I will not let the Ministry or that Umbridge woman have the satisfaction of running me off. So far, I enjoy it here at Hogwarts and plan to stay for a while." Her scowl at the reference to the Professional Standards Edict was quickly replaced by a smile at the thought of Hogwarts.
"I knew you would be up to the challenge," he said as they approached her office once again. "I'll check the dungeons on my way down, so I'll leave you here."
"This was nice. I look forward to patrolling with you again."
"Until next time . . ." he trailed off before disappearing around the corner.
