Disclaimer: Neither the world or the characters are mine, I merely borrowed the to have a bit of fun. When I am finished, I will return them slightly used.
The first day of the new schoolyear went by in a blink of an eye. Hermione had double charms, History of Magic and double arithmancy. Her evening was filled with a meeting with professor McGonagall and the prefects, detailing her new duties as head girl, assigning a patrolling schedule. Before she knew it was Tuesday morning, and she was heading down to the Great Hall to have breakfast before double potions. Her stomach was one knot of nerves. She was not looking forward to the confrontation with professor Snape.
"I had this weird dream" Ron said piling bacon and even more bacon on his plate. "Malfoy has turned me into a rainbow coloured pigmy puff, and was about to feed me to Mrs Norris, when a bunch of girls showed up. They got into a fight about who could have me. Apparently, pigmy puffs do not come in rainbow colours. The winner girl stuffed me down in her bra, between the most beautiful dark breasts I have ever imagined. What do you think this means?"
"That maybe you should eat a lot less before turning in." Harry remarked. "Are you really going to eat all of that?" Ron was now adding a heap of scrambled eggs to his plate.
"Sure, I will need the energy for the quidditch try-outs" he said cheerfully.
"Mate, that will be nearly three weeks from here. We have that extra fun extra lesson with professor Zhuang, remember?"
"How could I forget, she is really hot" Ron stuffed food into his mouth. Hermione though he missed some essential survival instincts. They glanced up at the head table. The new defence against the dark arts teacher was sitting between professors McGonagall and Flitwick. She seemed to be chatting away with the Gryffindor head of house, while ignoring Flitwick's attempts to get her attention. Hermione wandered if she did that on purpose. Her eyes were drawn further down the table, where professor Snape was consuming his breakfast calmly. He seemed cool and aloof as always. Probably the upcoming little performance was nothing challenging for him.
"You not hungry, Hermione?" Ron asked between two bites.
"Jus a bit nervous" she admitted. Her stomach gave her a painful twist.
"About potions?" he asked surprised. "You are the best in our year, now that Harry does not have the book from the half-blood Prince anyway. And you seemed to have been doing great this whole summer."
"Yeah, but this will be different. He" she referred top professor Snape "has a cover to maintain, and it is usually not pleasant."
"Oh, well, we have gone through worse together" her friend shrugged. "We just have to keep our cool. Though I admit he is really good at pushing our buttons."
Harry was about to add something to the conversation when Ginny joined them at the table. Hermione grabbed a muffin, wrapped it in a paper napkin and sunk it in her schoolbag. Maybe after she had landed herself in detention and did not feel the sword of Damocles hanging over her head she would have more appetite.
The conversation at the table quickly turned to the quidditch try-outs, and she only half-listened to her friends as they walked down to the dungeons. With each step the temperature became cooler, although she suspected it was only her nerves.
She could not help wondering how professor Snape must have felt each time he was summoned by You-know-who. Did he have this heavy feeling in his stomach? This feeling of impending doom? Did he fear the danger he was about to face? She knew it was ridiculous to compare the two experiences, but he must have faced something similar, only much worse, regularly. Knowingly walking into real danger, not sure what would come out of it. He must have had nerves of steel, and she was suddenly even more grateful for the dangerous job he was doing and the magnitude of what was asked from him hit her like a ton of bricks. If she felt this bad about knowingly getting herself a detention, she could not, did not want to imagine what it would feel like to walk up to a madman, knowing you may never come back or that you may have to leave a piece of yourself behind, your soul broken your sanity chipped away. She shuddered.
At nine o'clock the door of the potions classroom opened, and they filed in along with their classmates. The three of them settled next to each other at one of their usual tables. Hermione felt her feet getting sweaty with nerves. Professor Snape was standing next to his desk, eyeing with disdain as the students slowly filled his classroom. When the last of them took their place, he flicked his wand and the dungeon door banged closed.
"I am surprised to see that this many of you imbeciles have made it to the final year of potions" he said as a greeting. "This year will be different from the previous ones. Each of you will be expected to engage in an individual research project. These" he flicked his wand at the blackboard, where a large amount of text appeared "are the rules and expectations of said project. As you can see, you have an option to do actual brewing, or literature research. I strongly discourage every single one of you from choosing a brewing project. One single mistake could ruin the process, and leave you with an exploded cauldron and a Troll for result. And make no mistake, I will take great pleasure in failing you" he added with a predatory smile. "You have until the last day of September to hand in a research proposal. I will personally discuss it with you in one-on-one sessions before approval, and you can start working on them in the middle of October. Some of the usual lessons will be dedicated to your project, and you will receive somewhat less homework to leave you enough time to complete your assignments. I will strongly suggest that you use this extra time wisely, the results of your project will be part of your NEWT score. Why are you not taking notes?"
There was a sudden flurry to get parchments and ink out. Hermione tapped her empty sheet, and used the copying charm she perfected while making her own version of The art of bending the truth. Her parchment was instantly filled with the spiky handwriting of professor Snape.
There were a couple of minutes spent with furious scribbling, and when the last of the scratching of a quill died down the potions master tapped the blackboard again. This time the instructions of a potion appeared.
"This lesson you will be preparing a fire-breathing potion" he drawled. "You will be working individually. I do not expect many of you to complete the process correctly. Those few of you who actually get to stage nine, when the potion turns a soft blue colour will place a stasis charm on their work and continue next lesson. The majority of you who will fail will get a different task more to your speed. You may begin."
Hermione red the recipe on the blackboard and frowned slightly. The instructions were somewhat incomplete, apparently the professor expected them to remember that the ashwood potion base was extremely sensitive to contamination and needed special equipment cleaning before starting, or that some of the ingredients were volatile together and needed a special mixing technique. She saw that her friends have already gone to get their ingredients from the storage. She would wait a bit and make sure the two of them saw her making a big fuss of cleaning her cutting board, knives and cauldron. She secretly wished she was wearing the robes professor Snape gave her, she was expecting potions exploding this lesson.
Harry and Ron returned with armfuls of ingredients, and piled them onto the bench. Ron did notice her casting spell after spell on her equipment, but she had to grab Harry's wrist before he started chopping his daisy root, and whisper 'anti-contamination spellwork first'.
Her hands were trembling slightly when she started chopping her own ingredients. She had to remind Ron not to use his copper cauldron for the base, and had to catch Harry from stirring too much. She decided to put a ward around her working place to make sure if someone else managed to blow up their potion it would not ruin her own work.
Professor Snape was making his rounds between the tables, walking as silent as a shadow while they worked. He had already vanished the work of three students, but lucky for them there was still time to re-start if they were fast enough. She added the beetle eyes and chilly flower petals to her potion at once; the eyes were supposed to stabilise the flowers after all. She was busy counting her stirs when she noticed Harry was about to make a mistake, but she could not interrupt him without losing count.
"So, it will be Mr Potter, our resident potions genius to explode the first cauldron" Professor Snape whispered right behind the two of them. She never heard him walk up to them even though she was expecting something to happen. She let out a tiny squeal, nearly dropping her stirring rod. Harry was so startled he let go of the jar of beeswax he was holding, and it was hurtling right for his potion. Realising what was about to happen, her heart skipped a beat. Professor Snape had the reflexes of a viper, his hand shot out and grabbed the jar before it could have hit the surface of the liquid. Now he stood between them, so close that she could feel his robes brushing against her leg. If she moved just a traction to her left, their shoulders and arms would be touching. Goosebumps erupted on the back of her neck, and she broke out in cold sweat from what could have happened if he had not caught the bottle. Harry jumped, and took a step back.
Hermione finished stirring her own potion, and set down the rod with a quivering hand. She did not want to ruin her potion while the dreaded interaction with her professor was coming up.
Professor Snape stepped back, placing the jar on the working bench with a soft chink.
"Tell me, Mr Potter, what made you decide to try to kill us all?" he asked silkily. Harry turned a dark shade of red. Now the whole room was watching the unfolding scene.
"I, uhm…" Harry stuttered. Clearly he had no idea what he was doing wrong.
"Articulate, as always" he sneered. "Lazy, self-important, and incompetent. Is it beneath the famous Mr Potter to read his schoolbooks?" he turned to the class with the next question. "Who can tell me what would have happened had Mr Potter dropped the whole jar of solid wax into his potion?" Hermione considered for a short second if she should raise her hand. This was knowledge she did not need the extra tutoring from professor Snape to decipher. She did not forget his waring to appear less knowledgeable than she was, but she also had to appear to be her usual self, and this would give her a chance to get involved in the conflict. Her arm shot into the air, as usual.
"Miss Granger" he sneered. "Please enlighten us."
"The wax should be molten before being added to the potion" she recited. "It should be poured in in a spiral pattern, as the interaction happens on the surface of the wax, which generates heat. If the wax piece is added in a solid state, the heat is concentrated on a small area, which will cause a thermal imbalance in the potion. If this happens close to the side of the cauldron, it would cause the metal to melt and allow the potion to flow out, possibly causing injury. If it happens in the middle of the potion, the heat causes the water to suddenly evaporate and some of the ingredients to burn, and releases a toxic mixture of vapour and incineration product into the air. Dropping a whole jar in the mixture would generate enough heat to melt the cauldron and explode the potion, mixed with the molten metal. But sir, Harry would have never dropped the whole jar had you not snuck up behind him and scared him."
"Are you implying you know better than me how to conduct a potions lesson, Miss Granger?" he asked in a dangerous tone, towering over her. She was so nervous she could have puked on his shoes.
"No sir. Just mentioning that walking up behind someone unnoticed is against the safety regulation of potions brewing. The suggested…"
"Silence" his expression turned thunderous. "Ten points from Gryffindor. I will not tolerate cheek in my classroom, not even from the chosen one or one of his sidekicks. That will be detention with Mr Filch, Potter."
Hermione knew that this would be the time to shut up, but she had to push on. "But sir, Harry did not even…"
"Stop interrupting me" he thundered. Looking at the expression on his face she took an instinctive step back. She heard Ron fall over in his haste to get further from the potions master. "How dare you to try to correct me you insolent nitwit! Typical Gryffindor behaviour, blaming someone else for their shortcomings, blundering ahead without proper preparation and closed eyes, ignoring instruction and thinking to be above the rules for mere mortals. How deluded are you to think I did not see what you were doing? Have I not told you, repeatedly, Miss Granger, not to help your classmates?" he took a step closer, and she slowly backed away, shuffling. "Or did it escape your attention when I said this was an individual task? Did I not tell you enough times not to fix their mistakes?" another step. "Are you incapable of understanding the consequences of your actions? How many times do I have to repeat it to get it through that disaster of busy head of yours?" Another step. Hermione's back has hit the dungeon wall, and she had nowhere to go. "I do not care of the rest of the teachers loud you for your intelligence" he kept advancing on her, his voice dripping with venom and fury. "You are just a short-sighted, close-minded, insufferable know-it all, who cannot grasp the importance of the other students learning their own lessons and doing their own work! What do you think the wonder boy and Weasley are going to do when they become aurors and are confronted with a potion? Send you an owl with a question and hope they will survive long enough to read your answer?" His face was merely inches from hers now, she was visibly trembling, unable to say anything. "Regurgitating book texts will only get you and those around you killed. How dare you criticise your superiors, how dare you assume you know everything with the extensive life experiences of a stupid little schoolgirl?" Her eyes have filled with tears. She knew she had asked for this, but she had not realised how much it would hurt hearing it. "You need to learn to close your mouth, open your mind and follow instructions. I do not care what my colleagues think of your abilities, you are nothing but an obnoxious, self-important irritating, conceited little girl with delusions of intelligence who has grown an unjustifiable ego based on undeserved praise, who has been given way too many privileges." She felt the tears swell and roll down her cheeks. "I do not want to hear even a peep from you for the rest of the term" he added threateningly, suddenly stepping away from her. Hermione felt so week in the knees she wanted to slide down the wall and cry.
"From now on you will be sitting at the last table, alone" he pointed at the table he meant. " And if I ever catch you again helping another student you will be sitting in detention scrubbing cauldrons till you are eighty. Do I make myself clear?"
"Yes, professor" she could barely whisper, horrified.
"And as for you, Potter" he rounded at her friend, walking away from her. Harry was watching him with barely concealed rage, his hands curled into fists. "you will be receiving an incomplete for today" he flicked his wand towards his potion and it disappeared. Hermione barely had energy left to move, but she knew she still had to act, and soon. She took a few steps forward. "You need to start doing your own work instead of sailing by on your fame and help from your useless little friends" he sneered the last word. To Hermione's horror, Harry has lost it, and made a move to punch their teacher. Professor Snape whipped his wand out faster than she could follow with her eyes, and threw Harry back with a nonverbal spell. "You need to learn to control your temper and learn your place, Potter" he said with icy calm. Hermione knew she had to do something before it was Harry who ended up with moths of detention. Professor Snape kept his wand trained on her friend. "Maybe a curse would help you remember" his lips turned up into a vindictive, evil smile. "Shall we begin with…"
"Stop!" she shouted, drawing her own wand. The potions master whipped around, and disarmed her with the same movement, throwing her against the dungeon wall. Her back and head hit the stones with a loud smack, and her wand cluttered to the floor somewhere. You could have heard a pin drop in the room.
"You dare to draw a wand on me, Granger?" he was stalking over to her again, his voice dangerously calm. Her heart was hammering like a frightened bird, yet drawing a breath seemed to be difficult. "Do you think you are above the rules, attacking a professor? Students have been expelled over less" he gave her a predatory smile. "Let me make myself very clear, Miss Granger. I would love nothing more than to see your wand snapped and you permanently removed from this institute" he stalked closer slowly, tapping his wand against his own palm. She could just imagine too well as some ministry official snapped her own wand in half. "But given that this is supposedly your first transgression, the headmaster would probably disagree with me. However, you have just lost every single point that Gryffindor has" a shocked gasp ran through the classroom. She may have just made it to be included in the next edition of Hogwarts, a History, as the first ever student who lost all house points. "And you will be spending three evenings of the week in detention with me for the rest of the year, and if you put as much as a toe out of line, I will make sure you will never graduate" the last of his were were barely louder than a whisper, yet everyone in the room could clearly hear them. The threat was way too real, and she was paralysed with fear. "Do I make myself clear?"
"Yes, professor Snape" she said in a raspy voice. It took all her willpower to utter an answer. "Now get back to your work, all of you!" he bellowed, and stormed away.
Hermione wanted nothing more than to curl up and cry, but she couldn't, not yet. She went to collect her wand on shaking legs, and shuffled back to her table in a haze. Ron and Harry were sending worried glances in her direction, but after what transpired no one dared to talk or approach her, lest the potions master think they are trying to help one another. She rubbed at her face with the sleeve of her robes, trying to wipe the tears away.
Hermione walked back to her potion, and did her best to shove her feelings aside, and concentrate on her work. She knew that Professor Snape had done nothing more than what she asked him to, it was entirely her own fault if she was unprepared for the outlash. She continued to work numbly, but it felt all unreal, as if she saw the world through a thick layer of plastic, distorted, detached, unable to truly connect and touch.
For the rest of her class she concentrated on her potion and kept her head down. She red and re-red all the instructions, trying to think of everything they were already supposed to know about, such as the need for the special cleaning spells.
"You should have reached phase nine of the potion by now" the drawling voice of professor Snape announced. "Those of you who managed to create a soft blue potion, place a stasis charm on your work. The rest, vanish your pitiful attempt. I will be expecting an essay of two scrolls on where you went wrong in the brewing and why. All of you should start cleaning up your work stations."
Hermione cast the spell on her cauldron, and saw that only two other students managed to get this far. She knew she should probably feel proud of her success, especially given the circumstances, but all she felt ashamed and exhausted. She cleaned her supplies away without a word.
"Potter, Mr Filch will be waiting for you in the trophy room at eight. Miss Granger, you will be reporting to my office at eight, and spend the evening disembowelling horned frogs. Class dismissed."
Hermione hung her head, and hurried out of the room without a word. She heard the running steps of her friends trying to catch up to hear.
"Hermione" Ron said to her right. "Are you ok?" her friend was looking at her concerned. Harry stepped up to her other side, still visibly upset with what happened.
"Do not worry Hermione, he cannot expel you just like that" he said. "Professor Dumbledore would never allow that."
"I.. I know. I think…" she stammered.
"Just what is wrong with that git?" Harry asked, outraged. "It was way out of line to attack you like that. I get that he does not like me, but you are undoubtably the smartest of us all, calling you all those names was totally uncalled for."
"Maybe he is on his period" Ron snickered. Hermione appreciated what her friends were trying to do, but she felt she was about to burst by the seams and she did not want them to see.
"Thank you, Harry, Ron" she stammered. "I… I am, ok. I really am. I just need… to go to the bathroom. Just a few minutes" she looked at them pleadingly. "I will see you at transfigurations" she added quickly, and slipped away before they could stop her. She did head to the nearest bathroom, her whole body shaking and her composure unravelling. With no potion to concentrate on she could no longer push her feelings out of the way, and they flooded back with vengeance, the taunting voice of professor Snape ringing in her ear. Obnoxious, self-important irritating, conceited little girl with delusions of intelligence… She emptied her stomach into the toilet, and sank to the floor crying. She felt as if a severe, yet unknown punishment was hanging over her head, which made her stomach knot in fear and her limbs tremble.
Memories from her childhood swum to the surface. Being confined to her room for receiving a B+ in grammar. Her dad confiscating her favourite plushie when she made a few mistakes in her maths test, even though she still got an A. Being bullied and teased mercilessly by her classmates. Her mum comparing her to her best friends daughter, who helped so much more in the household than she did. Her dad telling her that the neighbour girl her age had her own job and earned pocket money. Being told that her cousin was more polite and tidy. Being told the daughter of their dental assistant had more friends and was a more popular girl. She just wasn't smart enough for them, no matter how good her grades were, not tidy enough, not hardworking enough, not polite enough, not helpful enough, not kind enough, not popular enough… just not enough. She remembered having no friends in her first year, Harry and Ron abandoning in her their third year over a broom and a rat, Ron dropping her like a hot potato for Lavender, the overwhelming pain of loneliness even when surrounded by people, being told by professor Snape she was short-sighted, close-minded, insufferable know-it all… She was not good enough to be a friend, she was not likable enough, not important enough for others to care, not pretty enough to be wanted, not smart enough… jut not enough for anyone.
She buried her face in her hands, and allowed the sobs to break free. She did not expect his words to cut so deep, but they did, burning like hot wire in her mind. She was not sure if this was because he was her teacher, or because she cared about what he thought of her, but the words infused with his cold fury and disgust made her want to curl up and never leave the bathroom. She knew that her parents were demanding the impossible from her, that she did not fail them, but knowing did not make it not hurt, it did not make the feelings go away and it was suddenly all mixed up with what professor Snape said. Like with her parents, she could not help caring about it, it was important what he thought of her. …Extensive life experiences of a stupid little schoolgirl… disaster of busy head of yours… Regurgitating book texts will only get you killed… The worst of all was that he had been right. She was doing a disservice to Ron and Harry by helping them in class. She had very little real life experience, she was all just textbook knowledge, thin as the paper it was printed on. She was way too eager for the praise of her teachers, she was way too proud of what she red. She was not ready for the real world and what was waiting for them outside. The truth hurt, and even though she knew that professor Snape delivered it probably more cruelly than strictly necessary, it did get his point across. It was also more painful to consider how the potions master thought about her than she cared to admit. A stupid little schoolgirl… She had a lot of growing up to do. She was not smart enough, experienced enough, wise enough. She was just… not enough.
She gave herself some time to allow her tears to flow, until her sobs started to become less frequent, and her mind slowly numbed to the emotional pain again. With a shuddering breath she pulled herself together, trying to push her old pains and hurts back. It was done. This was what she wanted, what she asked for, and she had no choice but to keep going and she would keep going. She was a Gryffindor. She clambered to her feet and blew her nose in a piece of toilet paper, then flushed away the remnants of her breakfast. She splashed some cold water on her face, looking up in the mirror. She looked terrible, her nose red, her eyes puffy and shiny, her hair sticking out. She run her wet fingers through her hair, but there was little she could do to make it better. Fleetingly she wished she knew some of the beauty charms Parvati and Lavender used. With a deep sigh she gave up on the lost cause, and flung her bag over her shoulder, heading to transfigurations class. The last thing she needed was making professor McGonagall angry too.
She took her seat next to Ron and Harry just before her head of house walked in. Her friends seemed to want to ask questions, but she hushed them. She wished she had had time to eat the muffin in her bag, after all the adrenaline and meagre breakfast she was starting to feel shaky and tired.
The transfiguration class also started by listening to the importance of their NEWT exams and the details of the personal projects they were supposed to be working on. She took careful notes, her breathing slowly returning to normal. Professor McGonagall has set them a series of transfiguration tasks to practice. Bugs to buttons, a turtle to a jewellery box, a bread box into a guineapig, a chair into a desk, a cauldron into a bookshelf, a tissue into a towel, a canary to an owl. These were all exercises from previous years, and it took her no effort to remember the spells. Taking her first lesson from professor Snape, she decided against helping her friends with the tasks they were struggling with. Instead, she got her transfiguration book out, and started to read.
When the lesson ended, Harry still did not manage to turn his turtle into a box, and Ron was struggling with the canary to owl. Maybe she would point them to the right book to look up what they needed to know. They all rose to leave, when she heard professor McGonagall to call out over the noise of scraping chairs.
"Miss Granger, a word please."
"Go" she said to Harry and Ron. "I will join you at lunch" she promised, and turned to walk to the front of the classroom with a heavy feeling in the pit of her stomach. She stood in front of the head of her house, staring at her shoes. The transfiguration professor waited until the room emptied out before she addressed her.
"Miss Granger, is it true what I heard, did you draw your wand on professor Snape?" she asked in a disappointed tone. It hurt more than it would have if she had started shouting.
"Yes, professor" she muttered.
"I have expected better from you, Miss Granger." Her statement felt like a whiplash, and Hermione could not help but flinch away. "Please explain it to me what happened." Her teacher said. She looked up at the disapproving expression, the lips of the professor pressed into a thin, angry line.
"Professor Snape was expressing his disapproval about my work. It… it made Harry very angry, and he.. he tried to hit the professor" she felt ashamed about getting Harry into trouble too. "Professor Snape flung Harry away with magic and threatened to punish him by hexing him. I… I wasn't thinking." Whatever her head of house saw in her face, made her features mellow out.
"That was an incredibly foolish thing to do, Miss Granger" she said eventually in a soft tone. "I hope you do understand that Severus has an image to uphold. I know that it can be very difficult to keep calm when he unleashes at one, but you must learn to keep control, even if the accusations are unfair, or if he seems to threaten your friends."
"No, I understand, professor. He may have been harsh, but he was right" she looked at her shoes in shame.
"Miss Granger" she felt her hand on her shoulder. "I cannot and will not do anything about these detentions, you'll simply haveto serve them. But I very much doubt that professor Snape did not at least vastly exaggerate in his claims. No one is perfect, but I have yet to find something worth criticising in your work morale" she gave her an encouraging smile. "Truth to be told, professor Snape is quite overworked and under a lot of pressure. It would not surprise me if he had taken it out on you, my dear. Also, if you can help him with some ingredient preparation or restocking the infirmary with healing potions and lessen that workload it would be a great help for him and the Order. And if the detentions become too much, you should come and talk to me, my dear."
"Thank you, professor."
"In the meantime, just keep your head down. Now, go and get yourself something to eat, you look like you are ready to fall over." She sounded genuinely concerned.
She left to join her friends for lunch, feeling even worse than before. She hated to have disappointed her head of house, but even worse, she felt she did not deserve her sympathy. She felt like a fraud and a fake, she had manufactured the whole situation, misleading her, lying to her friends, keeping secrets from the headmaster.