Author's Note: I'm considering creating an 8Tracks list of music for stuff I've been listening to while writing/thinking of this story. I'm not exactly sure how much you'd be interested in listening to such a thing, but I'd love to hear from you if you're interested. Lately, I've been listening to three albums quite a lot- "Sparks" by Imogen Heap, "The Five Ghosts" by Stars and "All This Bad Blood" by Bastille. They are phenomenal, solid albums and good additions to any audiophile's collection, and the music has been helpful for getting me into a good Writer's Space. I hope you enjoy this chapter. It just goes to show that sometimes being a jerk can actually be useful. Though I would not recommend doing so in real life. Or do. Your mileage may vary.
Chapter 36: An Immovable Object, An Unstoppable Force
"So glad you decided to join us, Ms. Granger," Snape's voice was dark as he glowered down his nose at her, "I only had to take off 20 points from your house."
Hermione glared at him, and she saw something shift uncomfortably behind his black gaze as he took in her Best Hermione look for a bit longer than he should have, her heart leaping just a little bit when she saw the side of his mouth twitch upwards.
Ugh. I hate it when he does this. He can be such a drama queen.
Hermione was leaning towards agreeing with Lily there. He was obviously trying to appear to be more angry than he actually was. She was finally realizing that it was almost easy to read him when she knew what to look for. Almost.
"Was taking points away from Gryffindor really necessary? And can you tell me what this is actually about?" she said quietly as she followed him down the stairs, acutely aware of all the stares from the paintings on the walls. Even the Fat Lady was unabashedly blowing raspberries and making rude gestures at the back of Snape's head.
"Later. Now come," he said dispassionately, and swooped so quickly down the stairs that Hermione practically had to jog to keep up with him, feeling that damnable bag bouncing against the bruise that she was now sure would cover her entire arse by the day's end.
When they reached the bottom of the stairs, Hermione tried to stop for a second to catch her breath, but his pale fingers dug into her shoulder and he pulled her along down the hall the way she'd seen him drag plenty of students bound for one of his infamous detentions before.
"If you don't let go of me," Hermione hissed quietly, "I am going to kiss you again, and you know what will happen, don't you?"
He paused and turned to lock eyes with her again, his lip curling up in a fierce snarl.
"But you must remember, you left me when I had specifically directed you not to leave until I'd dismissed you," he hissed back at her, "You could have-"
"Ah, Severus," a voice chuckled affably from the adjoining corridor to left of them and Hermione jumped. Snape simply whirled, looking even more irate than before, which, Hermione realized suddenly, was an incredibly effective way to disguise shock and surprise. She would have to remember to use that trick later.
The Headmaster's eyes twinkled as though he were privy to a silent joke that only he could hear.
"Albus," Snape nodded sharply, acknowledging the snowy-bearded man in the loud purple-and-gold robes, "Just taking this Gryffindor to detention."
"Miss Granger?" Albus sounded surprised, "Why, I don't think she's ever had a detention on her own before, and on a Sunday to boot! Exactly what has she done to receive such a punishment?"
Snape flushed from his neck up to his ears as he obviously thought a number of nasty things that he would never say out loud to the ancient wizard before him.
"If you must know, sir," he spat, pulling an object from his robes abruptly, "She was in the possession of a book that she did not have permission to take. I happened to be nearby and am merely doing my due diligence in disciplining nasty children who do not know the meaning of 'following rules.'"
The ancient, ominously yellow-paged book was obviously from the Restricted Section of the library, but Hermione had never seen it before, even though she often spent weeks practically living in the stacks; only leaving when Madame Pince kicked her out. She reflexively opened her mouth to protest, but a sidelong glance from Snape made her think twice and she just stood there quietly, waiting for Dumbledore to respond.
"It seems," Dumbledore said quietly, "That the punishment does not appear to fit the crime. Miss Granger, you should walk with me awhile. I'll escort you back to your common room."
Hermione was not looking forward to climbing all of those stairs again, and something in Snape's body language made her feel a little wary of the Headmaster.
"Thank you, Professor Dumbledore," she said, finally, trying to sound more relieved than she felt, "However, I was on my way back to the library when...er...Professor Snape found me. I should like to go back there and finish my studies before suppertime if possible."
"Oh, Miss Granger, you are quite the treasure," Dumbledore smiled and small crinkles broke out around his eyes, "It's refreshing, indeed, to see such interest in advanced studies. I shall be most glad to walk with you to the library."
Hermione smiled uncomfortably. She got the distinct impression that Dumbledore wanted to talk to her in private, and she wasn't exactly sure she was going to like what he was going to say...or what he was going to ask her.
She looked up at Snape, trying to discern any emotion in his face, but his expression was unnervingly blank.
"Well, Granger," Snape said dismissively, "It looks like you were lucky this time. Next time you put even one toe out of line, don't expect that the Headmaster will be close by to absolve you of all consequences as he is so fond of doing for his Gryffindor students. The next time you cross me, I will make sure you are set to the task of scrubbing burnt cauldrons with your bare hands until ten o'clock at night."
With a withering look of deepest loathing, he glared at both Dumbledore and Hermione and swept off down the hall at a furious pace.
Hermione's eyes were wide as Dumbledore chuckled affably at the retreating black robes.
"Professor Snape tries his best to be scary, but I promise that his bark is worse than his bite," the Headmaster put out his arm for Hermione to take and he began to lead her towards the library.
"It is strange that you would be looking at a book in the Restricted section regarding ghosts, golems and the manner of their making," Dumbledore said quietly, once they were alone, "You are not, I hope, expecting to shuffle off this mortal coil anytime soon?"
"No!" Hermione said, more sharply than she would have liked, then, "Well, I've just always been curious...you know, about the ghosts in the castle. And you know how Nearly Headless Nick has invited us to several of his birthday parties? Well, it's just that I want to be able to know what a ghost is, and what the difference is between a ghost and a golem- I mean, do they have souls? Are they souls without bodies? Are they just whispers of the people they used to be?"
"You have many questions," Dumbledore said sagely, "But I would not expect any less from our resident genius. You are, I am sure, aware of asking permission to read books from the Restricted Section?"
"Yes," Hermione flushed, sending a mental burst of irritation out into the general direction of Snape's office for his fabricated excuse, "But unfortunately, I was...I just got so caught up in my research that I just kind of grabbed it before I really realized what I was doing. Then I justified it to myself because I knew I wasn't doing anything bad with it, and before I knew it...well…you know the rest."
The Headmaster looked relieved at Hermione's sheepish expression, and ruffled her hair affectionately.
"I know that you have many things on your mind," he said cryptically, "But I must ask you to do your best to follow the rules to the best of your ability from now on. There are many people who would not be as understanding as I am about your level of focus. Are we understood?"
Hermione nodded and he smiled mildly, rifling in his robes for a moment and then pulling out a small piece of parchment and a miniature quill.
"Sir?" Hermione couldn't help but stare at his blackened hand as he scribbled something out in his familiar, looping handwriting with the other.
"Mmm, yes?" he said absentmindedly.
"Sir, if I may be so bold...your hand seems to have been burnt terribly. I certainly hope that you are well. But if not, I wouldn't be averse to helping you research possible treatments," she replied carefully.
"Oh, my dear!" he chuckled softly, handing the folded parchment to her with his good hand, "While your offer of assistance is most appreciated, I fear that this is a private matter that I must attend to on my own."
"What's this?" she asked as she took the parchment.
His eyes twinkled merrily, "Why, I figured that it would be best if you didn't have any more problems acquiring essential texts from the library, don't you?"
She unfolded the paper and gasped. Written in the looping cursive she knew so well, her eyes read and re-read the words just to make sure that she wasn't imagining things.
My Dearest Madam Pince,
This note hereby grants one Hermione Granger permission to check out any book, including any restricted materials, from the Hogwarts library in the course of her studies and research needs.
With utmost respect and sincerity,
Albus Percival Wulfric Brian Dumbledore
"Sir!" Hermione's eyes were shining with grateful tears, "This...I can't possibly…It's…"
"A simple thank you would do, my dear," the Headmaster said softly, "And between you and me, I would suggest taking a look at Clever Concealments, Curses and Cantations. You'll never know when you might need the ability to fit many things into a small space."
As they neared the library doors, Dumbledore gracefully unhooked his arm from hers and patted her hand. The halls seemed eerily empty of anyone else, and Hermione wondered if somehow this was another type of magic that allowed Dumbledore to be alone in the manner he wished, or if it was simply happenstance. With magic, either option was a distinct possibility.
"Dark times are ahead, Hermione," he said seriously, "I know that you are already aware of this, but I wished to add the following: I know that you will be an incredible asset not only to your dearest friends but also to the wizarding and muggle worlds. You are one of the keys to fighting the great evil of our days, and in my age, I sometimes forget just how far you have come, my dear, from that fresh-faced First Year traveling for the first time to the Great Hall in our enchanted boats. Right now, studying may very well be the difference between defeating Voldemort and losing the war."
Hermione opened her mouth to reply, but he held up a hand.
"I understand that you're in a difficult situation," he said, and his eyes looked weary and old for the first time she could remember, "But I also want you to know that I have the utmost faith in you- that you'll make the right decision when the time comes."
"But...what do I...?" she sputtered.
"You'll know what to do," he replied, his eyes twinkling merrily again, and when she turned back after momentarily turning around to get out of the way of a small group of Hufflepuff boys who were exiting through the heavy library doors, Dumbledore had vanished.