Disclaimer: Not mine.



I Need to Breathe

Chapter 50

The Presentation



After Hermione graduated, she was surprised to be accepted at the first place she applied. She had been warned, that with the economy on another downward spiral she might have to accept a position beneath her qualifications. It was an entry-level position, but a position in research none the less. She read the literature on the company and was surprised that they were involved in so many industries, from oil refineries to pharmaceuticals and even her small division that developed artificial prosthesis.

The first day she visited the new development labs she was surprised to see how much freedom she would have. Although the big push was to develop a low cost prosthetic arm complete with flexible fingers, they stressed that she was free, and even encouraged, to use a certain percentage of her time for the development of her own ideas.

She found the work not only interesting, but lost herself in the time, working late into the night only to look up to share something or to ask for advice to find herself alone in the building. She had read up on the work done to stimulate the nerve endings to enable sensory deprived individuals to regain sight or hearing and found the topic fascinating. After only a few months, she tried to develop her own idea of a small device that, when implanted, could stimulate the optical nerve as she thought the same principle they were working on for hearing could be adapted to other uses. She believed, if successful, it would restore enough sight to eliminate the need for canes and guides, allowing more freedom and a normal life to those afflicted such as Abby had been.

She had written to Severus, asking to see Abby, only to hear that she had lessons, or was unable to make the long train ride to London. Unwilling to put the child in a position of hearing arguments over her, Hermione had to be satisfied with stories from Neville, and the occasional Muggle snapshot she insisted they use rather than the moving Wizarding photos.

Every Saturday morning a letter would arrive from Abby, and every Saturday she would write back in return. The first missive she had opened was a mere scribble, gradually improving until she could make out words. She kept each one in large envelope, adding each new addition only after dating it in the corner and answering it with her own. She had sent a letter to Severus, thanking him for keeping her name in front of Abby, for not letting her forget, only to receive a curt note and explanation that the weekly letters were intended to practice her communication skills and meant nothing more.

She filled her time by pulling out the old research journals that she still kept on the top shelf of her cupboard, and finishing the editing she had started so long ago for her then husband. As she corrected, and recopied, her mind kept making connections to what she saw before her and what she had learned at the University, adding even more importance to what she read. Digging a calendar out of her purse, she made her decision and left for the Leaky Cauldron, hoping that the Order of the Delphi would accept her letter and that Lydia would intercede on her behalf.

.

.

.

It had been a long time since she had worn robes. Now, standing in front of the mirror, she caught Lydia's reflection and smiled thinly.

"You look lovely my dear. Now relax, they may sound gruff but they have not taken off anyone's head yet."

"Yet being the word of importance here," Hermione said flatly. "I am so nervous I don't know if I can stand."

"I have put a stool in front of the podium," Lydia laughed. "Gloria's nickname for you reminded me."

"My nickname?"

"Well, how impolite of me," Lydia mused, her eyes sparkling. "She always called you the one with the shaking knees."

"I never did like her."

"Yes, well I was being polite you know. She called you Shaking Mione. It's time to go in dear," Lydia became serious. "Hermione, you can do this. You are not the same frightened child that you were when I first met you. You are a woman that is as educated and intelligent as any in that room and will someday be their equal. If you believe it, they will also."

"I hope," she grimaced, "just make sure you find my body if I don't show up at the end of the week."

She entered the lecture hall, took her position at the podium and looked up to the climbing rows of desks in front of her. She found her knees begin to shake and silently thanked Lydia as she sat down and cast the sonorous charm.

"Gentleman, I thank you for the opportunity to be here today. The fact that your have afforded me this unprecedented honour speaks to the nature of this body. It is only through a thirst for knowledge, forward thinking, and a search for new methods that our world will continue. Not to waste time I will forgo the normal introductions and begin."

She heard the muted laughter and tried to ignore the guffaws from those who did not even try to hide their distain.

"Each of you has been given a copy of the basic works of Severus Tobias Snape, which contains only a summary of the entire body which will be made available to each of you upon request. This morning we will touch on the basic techniques to prepare ingredients, necessary and important if the true nature of the work is to be understood."

She took a deep breathe and plunged into the speech, soon loosing track of her written notes as she strayed from her original content and began speaking with enthusiasm, citing example after example. She looked at Lydia who shook her head and pointed to her watch with a scowl.

Hermione turned and looked over her shoulder chuckling to see, she had run over half an hour already.

"Before we break for lunch…. questions?"

"Miss Granger, if I am to believe you correctly, I am being told by a mere… teacher… a man that has had his very title revoked, that we have been preparing our potions incorrectly? Indeed. How did we ever survive with out him?"

Hermione heard the laughter and bit back the retort that was on the tip of her tongue.

"Sir," she held up her hand to stop the noise. "I will ask you a question. A potion calls for three leaves of Fluxfox, dried and chopped. Do you alter the potion in years of drought?"

Laughter filled the room as Hermione returned to the podium, reached under the top shelve and laid out four watch glasses; each containing dried and chopped Fluxfox.

"Sir, each of these ingredients has been prepared by a different Master. Each contains a different amount and potency, although all contain three leaves. The first was prepared in France that has experienced a dry season; the leaves are smaller than those in the second sample from northern Italy, which had a bumper crop this year. The next, the German sample, although similar in size to that of Italy, appears much smaller, even to the naked eye. This is due to the drying method used. Each one of these ingredients will affect the potion differently. The fourth sample, prepared by the suggested methods and measured after the preparations were completed, is the only batch that will be consistent.

If it were your child that needed a life saving potion, I wonder, which would you use in the potion?

The amount of moisture must also be controlled. How many times have you found stored supplies ruined, or overrun with mould? The amount must be exact, consistent and not subject to regional difference. This afternoon I will demonstrate not only this, but how the use of different seed stock of the same species affects the outcome of the potion. The strength and success of the potion depends on each of these factors, far more than the skill of the brewer. Master Snape has used these techniques for years. This is why his potions have, and will always be sought after.

Tomorrow we will see over 786 potions that have been standardized in Professor Snape's attempt at consistency across the Wizarding world. The most important, and the part of his body of work that will not be introduced until the third day, shows clearly why the standardization of species, when using animal organs, must be adopted. I have left copies of the material on DNA identification that you may want to familiarize yourself with before that time."

Hermione swallowed hard as the assembly stood, and without a word to her walked out, only muttering to themselves and casting her dark looks.

"My, that went well," Hermione sighed as Lydia made it down the steps. "I don't think they listened to a word I said."

"What they are having a hard time accepting is that a witch with no credentials is giving the presentation and not the creator."

"You know, Lydia, I submitted his name but they would have no part of it. I just squeaked in due to my Muggle degrees. They are such fools!"

"You are just lucky there is pressure on them to open up their ranks to witches my dear. I do hope you realize if you are unsuccessful, it will make it extremely difficult for another to do the same. Don't misunderstand me. It is not your sex that is at issue, as much as your lack of formal title in this world. The fact that as a divorced woman, you are presenting here at all is astounding, but that is a matter of etiquette, whereas the credentials are a firmly established rules. "

"That, Madam is of no interest to me." She scowled.

"Oh my," Lydia laughed. "You sound just like him."

Thomas rose from his seat in the top row and made his way slowly to his wife's side. "Well done Mrs. Snape, well done."

"Miss Granger," she said tersely.

"Allow an old man his beliefs," he said smoothly, taking Lydia's arm. "Now my dear, I will see you home. You must rest."

"You … then I will thank you now, for your support," Hermione replied stiffly.

"Now, now my dear, I never intended to sit through the whole thing. Three days of lecture, and two more of debate is more than this old body can take. There was a time I would have insisted on staying, but as of late … no, I am no longer young enough."

Hermione watched them leave before turning to attend the luncheon that was set up for the attendees. She found her place setting, not surprised that she had been placed at the far end in the table closest to the kitchen. Sliding into her seat, she scanned the table, aware she was seated as to her rank, amongst the other untitled attendees. She spent the next hour pushing her food around on her plate, listening to the chatter at the table, not unaware that no attempt was made to include her.

The afternoon session was abysmal. Several of the senior potioneers being so bold as to leave the hall, only to sit in the bar and talk of the little chit that dared to bring this subject back up, a subject they had tossed out the first time. Hermione swallowed hard, and stumbled on her words each time she saw someone smirk and stand to leave.

The next day during lunch one of the Healers from St. Mungo's approached her, bringing with him several of the visiting healers from the other countries. They asked polite questions and requested extra copies of her materials, giving her some hope that at least the medical field as listening.

By the end of the third day she was exhausted, slumping to a desk on the lowest tier as the attendees silently walked out, folding her arms on the desktop, she laid down her head and took in a deep breath.

"Imagine my surprise to find my work being once again presented." She jerked her head up and looked around, finally finding him standing near the door she herself planned to use.

"You knew six months ago when the agenda was published."

"I, Madam, am no longer on the mailing list," he said flatly.

"I sent you an owl, I told you I was doing this. Don't' pretend to be shocked."

"And again, Madam, I answered that owl, refusing permission."

"Permission? I don't need your permission," she sighed, feeling any fight drain out of her. "Don't worry. I won't soon be allowed back. The debate begins tomorrow. However if anyone shows up I will be amazed. I am sorry Severus. I felt I owed you this."

"It was not your fault."

"I know that. However, if I had not blindsided you by the whole pregnancy issue and given Lucius fodder for his rumour mill this would not have happened. I can still see Lucius as he just happened to meet me at the bottom of the staircase. I should have just given in to what I wanted to do and flattened him. Instead, I let him run over me with his threats."

"Lucius would have found a way, of that I have no doubt," he answered, his voice not as harsh.

She studied his face, finally looking away and returning to the podium to gather her presentation materials. "How is Abby?"

"She is repeating second year. She's struggling."

"She will catch up, remember how far behind she was."

"The Longbottoms will soon have a second son. Mrs. Longbottom requested that I pass along the information."

"They should have a houseful," she mused. "Neville desires a big family."

"And you Hermione? What do you want?"

She looked up and saw him leaning casually against the wall, all anger gone, surprised to see him relaxed and talking openly. "I? I want… nothing. Truly. I have a good job, within a fifteen-minute train ride, I am free to work on my own, and it pays enough so I no longer worry about the rent. More importantly, I set my own hours and am not accountable to anyone. I have to submit monthly reports on my progress, but other than that … it is just me and my work. You should understand the importance of that."

"If that is the extent of your desires I am pleased for you, Hermione."

"That, and I have time for my own research." She chuckled as she picked up the last of the parchments and tucked them into her case. "I have learned. It may have taken me a while longer than it should have, but I have learned. Now, tell me. Do you plan on coming tomorrow and debate your findings, you know if I mucked up the presentation there is no way I can do it justice."

"I shall be in attendance, however there will be no debate," he said slowly. "The only reason I came now is to prepare you that Master Givens, who you may have noticed is very much evident by his very absence, has been working behind the scenes to make sure the debates are boycotted."

"I thought he may show up. I expected him here today. Did you see his article in Potions Monthly?"

"Yes."

"And?"

"Do not think that due to his inability to accept my work that he does not have valid points. I would very much like to explore his ideas."

"They are not his ideas. He is taking stem cell research directly from the Muggle world and touting it out as his own. His new studies smack of the dark arts and as such will never be accepted."

"The same could be said for my work. I borrowed heavily on their measurements and knowledge of DNA."

"You have never said otherwise and even have sited their names, giving them credit for their discoveries. No, he is arrogant and needs to be brought down a peg."

"This is not personal to him. He will be able to take lunch with you, discuss the work rationally, without malice, and then rip you to sheds. I wanted to warn you, and to make sure you understood, that to him, and the others in this room, this is not against you personally."

"Really? You should have seen the reception I received."

"Have you forgotten why you took lessons with Lydia? This is an old group, Hermione. There are wizards here that come from areas so shut off from Muggles that only here have they met one. You need to treat them accordingly. Not by your British standards of fairness and equality but with the teachings you learned from Lydia. Professionally and with respect. Professionally they will not argue a work in front of, or with, an unqualified witch."

"I must be going," Hermione said, suddenly angered. "I don't need to be told how to act."

"Then I will leave you until tomorrow."

She watched him leave the room, then turned and left through the door on the opposite side of the lecture hall.

She woke early the next morning to prepare for what she thought would be one of the worse days of her life. Dressing carefully she tied her hair in small knot in the back of her head and selected deep blue robes with no adornment, avoiding anything that would give the impression of vanity. Hesitating as she sat at the mirror, she put her makeup back in her travel case; Lydia's teaching echoing in her mind. Then, lifting her chin, she headed down to the lower level of the hotel to have breakfast.

The host took her to a table and handed her the menu, then automatically put a carafe of tea on the table. Hermione set the menu down, explaining all she wanted was the tea. She knew her stomach would not handle anything more with her nerves the way they were.

"You should eat, Miss Granger." Severus sat opposite her, waving the waitress over and putting in his own order for breakfast. "I did not see you here last evening and knowing you are too frugal to order room service I assume you have not eaten since lunch."

"I wasn't hungry," she said tersely.

"Let's not do this now. If you want to argue I will set time aside and indulge your wishes at a later time."

She started to laugh, leaning back in her chair and feeling instantly more at ease. "How have you been Severus? I have missed your humour. I must say I do not know another person who gets away with as much as you do. No one knows quite how to take you."

"Except Abby, whom I must admit does not believe a word I say. The fact that I refer to her as Abby, a name I detest, and not her given name speaks to what she has done to me. She is the only student that is unafraid to be sent to my office and receives the same treatment in my detentions as the others but finds amusement in it."

"It's called love. She must love you so she knows you don't mean it."

"She is wilful and stubborn."

"Ah, just like her father."

"I blame it on the upbringing she experienced in your hands," he said as he frowned at her.

"If I had known where she was going to end up I would have taught her differently. I would have taught her to stand up and argue and a few hexes along the way," Hermione said. "So, are you ready for today? Have you changed your mind?"

"Tell me of your work in London," he said, ignoring her question.

"The mechanical portion is rather daunting, I will need an assistant in that area, but the rest is going well. The Muggle idea of how the mind works is different from the way they see it here. They find it … rigid… not understanding how it fits together…how memories can relocate in to non-memory centres. Abby is a great example. Here, we look to repair and alter at the minds level…they treat the symptoms, working on the nervous system. It is difficult at times not to argue magical theory with the professors and engineers. It is much like here in that regard. I do not have a medical degree so they will not consider my ideas valid."

"They are not yet ready for our medical advancements, as we are not ready for their greed and lax morality."

Hermione nodded, knowing he was speaking of Lucius and the war. "Someday, perhaps…but I agree. Greed and magic need to be separated. If it were only possible," she mused. "I thought you couldn't leave the country? How do you manage to be here?"

"Kingsley. He had the ban lifted for business travel. Tell me, do you ever plan on returning to our world?" Severus kept his eyes down, as if examining his tea. "Abby asks often."

"I am better off where I am," she said flatly. "It is … easier… not that on occasion I don't still wish for a wand…but … easier."

"Professor Longbottom has expanded your idea in the greenhouses. We now enjoy vegetables year round. Even Hagrid has seen fit to make room enough to supply the kitchen enough dairy products for the entire term. Abby works with him during the summer. She was quite sad to hear why the greenhouse was modified in the first place."

"That's unfair," she began gathering her handbag and briefcase to leave.

"Nothing is unfair, Hermione," he said with a smirk. "I once told you I was not above using a child to dangle in front of you."

"That's beneath even you," she said coldly as she stood up. "I think of him every time I see a mother pushing a pram, every time I hear a …"

"No," he jumped up and grabbed her arms. "I didn't mean that. I was speaking of Abby. I would never use him …never. I spoke poorly."

"I have to go, I should be in there in the event someone stops in," she whispered as she pulled her arms away from him and walked from the table.

He did not go to the debate sessions. Each time Hermione heard a creak in the floor, or heard footfalls outside the door she would wait and hope he would enter. She sat the first day, waiting hopefully, until lunchtime when she accepted the fact that he had been correct, there would be no debate.

Stubbornly refusing to leave until the end of the fifth day, she returned on Friday as well. Wearing her Muggle jeans and a loose jumper she propped her feet up and read the day away, taking a strange pride in the fact that she had fulfilled her commitment.

Later that night she was running down the platform as the train began to move away from her, yelling and flaying her free arm she suddenly felt herself grabbed by the arm and pulled back.

"No Mademoiselle, ze train, he is gone."

"You don't understand. I have to get back to London."

"But Mademoiselle, ze train, he is gone," the worker pointed to the moving train as if to make his point.

"Fine," she spat and turned to start back to the stairs, knowing that now the only way to get back was by portkey and not wanting to use it. Returning to the main concourse, she hurried to the bank of phones, hoping there was a late flight, but a quick check put that hope to rest as quickly as it had come. With a deep sigh, she looked for the public restrooms. Hurrying to an empty stall, she threw the lock and prepared for travel, cursing herself for running late.

As she stepped into the Ministry of Magic, she turned to head to the street exit, only to have two Aurors rush towards her, and stand between her and the door.

"The use of unauthorized travel is prohibited, as I am sure you are aware."

"It was not unauthorized. How would I have gotten a port key to here if it was?" she snapped.

"Come with me." The tallest began to head back toward the security offices just off the lobby.

"I will not! Check the port key, it was issued from here."

"You did not notify us two hours before international travel. At this hour, there is no one on duty to clear you. I am afraid you are going to have a night of it right here."

"Oh no, I'm not. Call Shacklebolt. Call Harry Potter, or one of the Weasleys. Any one of them can tell you who I am and let me through."

"Quite the name dropper if you…"

"Wait, are you Hermione Granger? I thought I recognised you."

"Yes I am, so now I can leave?"

"Not so quick," the tallest one bristled again. "Keep a watch on her, the Minister is still here with Snape. I'll see if he can come down."

"Snape? No, see if Potter is on duty, he or Ronald Weasley."

The Auror headed down the hallway as the other pointed to one of the benches. "Sit over there. It could be a while. They've been up there all day."

"Oh? Do you know about what?"

"Even if I did do you think I would tell you?"

She shot him a cold look, folded her arms, and turned sharply to watch the hallway for Kingsley. An hour passed before she saw Kingsley and Snape walking toward her, both looking angrier than the other did.

"For this you called me down?" Kingsley spat at the Auror. "The directive clearly stated unknown persons."

Kingsley ripped the entry form from the Auror's hand and slashed his wand over it, signing his name, and thrust it back.

"Miss Granger." He nodded curtly. "Forgive me, however there have been changes in your absence. I suggest you familiarize yourself with them."

"Sounds like you have had a bad day." Hermione stood, uncertain of Kingsley's greeting.

"Forgive me," he sighed and bent down, kissing both her cheeks. "We have been fighting budgets all day. The goblins have found a way to circumvent our lending system, finding it more profitable to finance those on the continent, leaving us in a lurch."

"I am sorry to hear that, I hope it is temporary." Noticing Severus' scowl she figured his budget was once again slashed.

"This pigheaded fool has the idea to charge tuition," Severus answered her unasked question.

"It may work if it is on a sliding scale," she offered. "There are those that can well afford it, and those that cannot can be given …"

"Yes, Miss Granger, and our Professors can all live in Hogsmeade so we can change their quarters into private chambers for those well to do students. That has also been proposed," Severus spat.

"That is… to put it politely… stupid. I thought we just fought a war to make sure caste distinctions would not set up this world one against another." She laughed. "Sorry, I should be running off. Thanks for coming down. I was beginning to think I would have to sleep here."

"Snape, see her home. I do not have the Aurors to spare. We are already down twenty percent."

"No, I can grab a taxi," she said nervously.

"Do not be foolish, Miss Granger. It is much too late to find one in this area," Severus took her elbow and guided her to the door, calling back over his shoulder. "Tell the damned board I will send Hagrid in with his livestock. They can feed them if they want to save on the budget."

"They want to get rid of the animals?" She asked as they stepped into the street.

"Yes. However, we are putting together a report to show how much it saves the kitchen. He and his are very safe. That is unless they discover the new dragon he is hiding."

"You know of it?"

"It is a dragon or the largest firefly I have ever seen, and since there are no fireflies in Britain I lean toward the dragon theory."

They talked and began walking; soon forgetting to look for a taxi and without realizing the distance they had covered, found themselves standing outside Hermione's apartment building.

"Do you want to come in for a cuppa?" She asked nervously, avoiding his eyes.

"Yes, however knowing we will never make it to the kitchen I will refuse," he responded stiffly releasing her arm and stepping back.

"Would that be a bad thing?"

"No, it has never been a bad thing with you, Hermione, which is why I should leave."

"Should? Or want to?" She lifted her head and studied his face.

He stepped forward and dragged her roughly to him, covering her mouth with his and holding her so tightly she could not reach her arms around him. He felt her heart race against his chest and knew from the way she relaxed, letting her head lean back as he applied more pressure to her lips that she wanted him as badly as he wanted her.

Pulling his head back far enough to see her face, he used one hand to trace her lips, watching as she closed her eyes and sucked at his fingertip, and spoke softly, "I hope you find what you are looking for Hermione."

Shoving her from him he turned and strode away.