Power in All its Glory
Chapter 25: Nothing to Gain
Severus Snape ate his evening meal in silence. It appeared to most of those assembled in the Great Hall that the Potions master was in his usual foul mood. Actually, in truth the wizard was almost cheery. He was exhausted, of course but he felt like a great weight had been lifted.
The horrid interviews were finally over.
He had known the ordeal would be difficult, of course but the degree of torture he'd had to endure was beyond what even he had expected. So while he enjoyed his pot roast and potatoes, in his mind he hummed a catchy tune …
He stopped with his fork halfway to his mouth. Drat, that scoundrel, Black! He had him humming that muggle tune once again.
How humiliating that song was!
Snape looked over at the blissfully unaware student body. His eyes traveled out of habit to the Gryffindor table. Hermione was stabbing at her food and appeared to be highly agitated. Some of his earlier lightened mood dissipated. There were still in quite a predicament.
He had to solve the mystery. He had to find out who was doing this to them. Hermione was depending on him. Now that the interviews were over he could concentrate on figuring it all out. Although the last few days had been frustrating, he realized he had learned a few things. He grudgingly acknowledged that Black probably had nothing to do with any of it. If Black had the means to hurt Snape, his nemesis, he would not hesitate. He did not have the patience to drag something like this out. Snape also had to admit that the other man would never hurt Hermione, at least not intentionally. There was something going on with Draco, as well, but Snape could not quite put his finger on it.
Snape glanced over at the other professors. They were busily chatting amongst themselves, all except for Professor Trelawney. He was surprised to see she was once again was among the living instead of secluding herself in her rooms. A look from Dumbledore caught the Potions master's attention. He nodded in understanding to the headmaster. They were to meet in the older wizard's office so Snape could deliver the requested memories.
His lightened mood returned.
He would be glad to be rid of the lot of them. Professor McGonagall smiled and waved at him from across the table.
Some more than others.
****
Hermione glared at the now empty spot, where Professor Snape had recently been sitting. Days of frustration had built up and were now spilling over into open hostility. If he would have just let her look at those files, they could be closer to finding out who was doing this to them. Instead, she was helpless to do anything. She had tried sneaking into Snape's office but to no avail. The interviews were intermittent and the length of each unpredictable. She had figured out how to get past Snape's wards, though, and that information may yet prove useful. She realized that her once strict penchant for obeying the rules was weakened by the thought of being thrown out of school, and the dark eyes of a stubborn professor who unbeknownst to him, needed her very much. She would not let him down. She would convince him to let her help. She didn't get this far to back down now.
She knew he would be delivering the memories to the headmaster tonight. She would wait for him in the hallway. He couldn't say no to her again. She wouldn't let him.
Draco once again snuck a look at the Head Table. Professor Trelawney gazed dreamily at her food. What had he been thinking? He had kissed a teacher. Not just any teacher, but Professor Trelawney. It seemed the most insane and yet most natural thing for him to do. Months ago he hadn't even considered her a person, let alone someone who was now so important to him.
He shook his head to clear it. He had been relieved that the interview had gone so well with Snape but now he had to concentrate on figuring out who had done this. She depended on him. He couldn't rely on her Inner Eye to figure it out, he thought wryly. He had to do it. But where to start?
****
"You are going daft, old man," bellowed Professor Snape, "if you think I am going through all of that all over again!" His hands were on his hips and his legs spread apart. His stance an obvious challenge of the elder's authority.
"Now, Severus," the headmaster replied calmly, not at all perturbed and with a bit of twinkle in his eye. "As I have said, it is necessary for you to accompany me into the penseive. What if I need clarification? Besides, with the both of us there we will be less likely to miss something."
"But …" he began again but it appeared the old man's charitable mood was disappearing fast as Dumbledore held up his hand for silence.
"There will be no more discussion on this issue. I will see you back here first thing tomorrow morning." He peered at the younger man over his glasses. "Am I understood, Severus?"
Snape felt like a seventh-year again getting caught stealing James Potter's golden snitch.
"Fine," he said tightly and with cape billowing, he stormed from the room. As he exited from Dumbledore's office he almost ran into the witch waiting outside.
Actually, a pair of witches.
"Minerva, Rolanda," he said darkly. "If you would excuse me?" They were blocking his path and did not look as if they wanted to let him pass.
"Of course, Severus," the older witch answered as they finally moved aside. He brushed past them wondering what they were up to. They had been huddled together whispering to each other, and he was reminded of adolescent girls sharing a secret. He half expected them to giggle girlishly as he passed by. Thankfully, they did not.
The Potions master rushed down the hall. He wanted to get to his rooms. His good mood was completely gone to be replaced by a fierce longing to strangle someone. Anyone at this point, would do. Where was a first-year Gryffindor when you needed one?
Suddenly, Hermione appeared in front of him. He had been so determined on his journey that he had not seen her approach.
Fine, he thought. A seventh-year Gryffindor would have to do!
"Miss Granger!" he stormed. "It is past curfew! Fifty Points from Gryffindor for your impertinence!"
The words she had rehearsed caught in her throat in surprise.
"You must be joking," she replied.
"I assure you, I am not!" He glared at her. A glare that worked incredibly well on first-year Gryffindors but obviously not so well on a certain seventh-year Gryffindor female.
"First of all …" the young witch began and then shook her head in confusion as if she could not quite believe what she was hearing. "First of all …" she began once again, an octave higher, "it is not yet curfew!"
He glared at her. Damn it all, she was right. The little know-it-all.
It did not improve his mood one bit.
"And," she continued gathering momentum. "How dare you take points away from me …"
"I am your professor," he reminded her angrily.
"Yes you are," she agreed in a dangerous voice and he knew immediately what she was thinking … because he was thinking the same thing. He was her professor. And yet, he had crossed the line. He had kissed her, rather passionately.
She could tell she had made her point when he paused. Why did he have to make things so difficult?
She had to get back on track; say what she had come there to say. She took a deep calming breath.
"Professor …" Hermione began once again, determined to not get sidetracked.
"I am not giving your points back."
"As if I care!" She spat the words at him. "Would you just shut up and listen to me for one moment?"
He felt as if his sanity were slowly slipping away. He could take no more. Not from a slip of a girl who had turned his world upside down.
"No!" he hissed. "You will listen to me now!" It was amazing how low his voice could go when he was upset, and she knew from experience that that was when he was at his most dangerous.
"I have had days upon days of tireless, endless, nauseating, frustrating, and increasingly pointless, interviews of people I can barely stand to be in the same room with, and I have had it! Do you hear me? And I will not take orders from a little know-it-all who thinks she has the answer to everything!"
When had he grabbed her shoulders? He didn't even realize it but luckily he had stopped himself from shaking her silly.
If he expected her to rage back at him in kind, he was sadly mistaken.
Instead she looked at him almost matter-of-factly.
"You don't even know what I was going to say, Professor."
At that point he realized how extreme his behavior had become. He released her from his grasp and motioned for her to go on. He didn't trust his voice at this point.
"I want to look at the files in your office," she explained with some trepidation about how he would respond to this.
"Absolutely not! We have gone over this many times, Miss Granger. I do not need your help!"
Now she was angry. If that was his purpose then he had now certainly gained it.
"This is my life, too, Professor!"
"We are not discussing this any longer, Miss Granger!" His face was inches from hers as he made his point clear. "I have had a monstrous day, and I have just been informed by the headmaster that I will be reliving all that hell with him again tomorrow. As if he needs me by his side to understand that nothing at all was gained from the pointless interviews of the imbeciles he calls staff!" He finally wound down from his rant and took another breath to begin again but was interrupted by the brightest witch of her age.
"Fine. You are right, Professor. I will leave it to you."
He stared at her in stunned silence; his rant was forgotten in the enormity of what had occurred.
"What just happened here?" he asked in a stunned voice.
"I am agreeing with you," she explained.
"You … are agreeing with me?"
"Of course," she answered politely. "You are my professor, after all."
He opened his mouth to speak but nothing came out so he promptly closed it again. He looked at her suspiciously.
"You are not going to argue with me?"
"Of course not, Professor. What would be gained?"
"What is ever gained?"
She just smiled calmly.
"I demand to know what you are up to, Miss Granger!" Damn the girl! He hated not knowing what was going on!
"I am not arguing with you. Isn't that what you wanted?" she asked.
At his continued scrutiny, she finally became annoyed.
"Professor, you can't have it both ways!" she said testily. "Either you want me to argue with you or you don't! Either I obey you or I don't! Which is it?"
When he didn't answer immediately she decided to call his bluff.
"Alright, Professor," she said angrily. "Fine! I demand that you let me look at those files! I have a right to be involved. You can't just close me out! You need my help and …"
But with order restored as he knew it, he was no longer listening. He held up his hand to silence her.
"That will be all, Miss Granger."
As she turned around to go back to her house, Hermione mused on how easy it was to manipulate men. They really were simple creatures, sometimes. She walked away leaving a bemused Potions master behind.