Hermione observed critically her reflection in the mirror. Her first week as Remus's apprentice was drawing to a close, and she wasn't happy with her findings yet. Hogwarts received her very warmly, as expected from Alma Mater, which was always happy to welcome her students, be it current or former. However, Hermione didn't feel happy to be back in School.
Hermione shook her head and sighed. The magic mirror creaked out something mocking, but she never expected that the magic object would suddenly begin to tell her compliments. She felt sad and that sadness didn't have to do anything with her Monday-morning appearance.
Hermione was terribly lonely. It seemed to her that she, suddenly, got to a noisy holiday. Where the guests were having fun, where the music sounded and happy laughter was heard everywhere, and in the midst of the general fun, she suddenly realized that they had forgotten to invite her, that she dared to come here, to break someone else's delight with her sad expression on her face, and she was here, standing in the middle of a room filled with joy and laughter, uninvited and simply, not happy.
Her voice of reason, of course, objected: all this was just her paranoia playing evil jokes with her, and she should not revel in her loneliness, and her life went on. Hermione did not listen to the objections of her own voice of reason: she was childishly sorry for herself. Quite recently, the School was full of her friends, her professors were always ready to help, and she wanted to believe that her future would be illuminated by the light of the sun and new achievements. Reality proved to her in just five days that her dreams were worthless.
"Hermione dear, welcome!" Remus greeted her happily and after a few hours he disappeared in an unknown direction, referring to the fact that Teddy had caught a magical variety of chickenpox, and he urgently needed his father's presence. There was nothing to blame the old friend for: he lived for the sake of his son, of course, he wanted to see his every step, however, Hermione was ridiculously hurt. Remus left the seventh year in her care, and the Slytherin graduates were not at all happy with the "Know-it-all" of the notorious Golden Trio, who decided to lecture them on the Unforgivable Spells.
In the midst of a completely disastrous lecture, Snape walked into the audience and looked sternly at the quiet students.
"Minus fifty points from Slytherin for disobedience. Mr. McAlister, Miss White, my detention is at seven o'clock. The lesson is over."
There were displeased voices, but no one dared to seriously express to Snape their dissatisfaction with the replacement teacher.
Severus watched the hastily slipped out students and crossed his arms over his chest as he turned to Hermione. She stood at attention in front of him, like a freshman, and distractedly fiddled with hastily compiled lecture notes.
"Thank you, Professor Snape," she muttered in confusion. Snape frowned and motioned for her to sit down.
"I can hardly see any reason for gratitude in this incident, Miss Granger. The Unforgivable Spells is, you know, a very interesting lecture topic, especially if you read this lecture to the seventh year of Slytherin. You see, there are widespread theories that the Unforgivables were, in fact, invented by Healers for good purposes. Cruciatus was used as a spell to resuscitate the heart, Avada was intended for euthanasia, and Imperius was widely used in the field of psychology. I will not make a great discovery if I say that the Healers of the Wizarding world did not succeed in the science of knowing the mind, but, nevertheless, some attempts were made, nevertheless. During the First Wizarding War, St. Mungo's ward was greatly enriched by patients suffering from various forms of mental disorders, the most common of which were post-traumatic stress disorder and chronic depression. Having suffered one defeat after another, the Healers decided to use the notorious Imperius on especially difficult patients. And can we blame them, Miss Granger? This particular spell bestowed a sense of lightness and a strange sense of peace when you don't have to think about the fact that your whole family died from the Dark Curses, that your loved ones are rotting in Azkaban, and your very life collapsed in an instant."
"Professor, I-"
"I would be grateful if you didn't interrupt me. So, you are not lucky today to face a group of precisely those students whose families and they themselves have directly or indirectly suffered from the consequences of the use of the Unforgivables. Many of these children, and I will ignore the fact that they are almost adults, are the orphaned descendants of the Eaters, people from Voldemort's inner circle. Their parents were either killed, or taken to Azkaban, or tortured during the especially bloodthirsty entertainment of the Dark Lord. You see, Miss Granger, not all Slytherins are cold-blooded killers who are only interested in the purity of blood. And before you start interrupting, defending unnecessary morality, I will allow myself to note that I am not lecturing you on ethical topics, I want you to know that some things come with experience. If you want to be a good teacher someday, pay attention to the details."
Hermione looked at Snape with wide eyes and got silent: she did not have any arguments to his impromptu lecture. He said goodbye to her with a nod of his head and went out. In the evening, she had her first Forbidden Potions class, and she already had a premonition that her absolute inability to calculate moves would lead her to another failure.
The Potions laboratory smelled of herbs, slowly boiling cauldrons were bubbling quietly in the far corner, Hermione's thoughts, distracted by the measured tapping of her knife on a cutting board, were turning heavily inside her head. Hermione kept trying to concentrate but could not: today she brewed Life-giving blood, the very one potion with which she once saved the life of Professor Snape.
Snape didn't give her boring lectures on the importance of this forbidden potion, he simply issued instructions and disappeared into the next office. Hermione was left to chop the ingredients and contemplate.
"You see, Miss Granger, I already foresee a lot of questions with which you are going to bombard me, and since the Headmistress has entrusted you with my responsibility, I will have to answer you. However, my Slytherins are waiting for me outside the door, and it is my responsibility to supervise their detention. I'll leave you information for thought. Life-giving blood could be considered one of the most powerful healing potions that can pull a person literally from the other world, if not for one "but": the debt of life, which will immediately follow such powerful magic."
"But, Professor, this is human life! No matter how great the price is ..."
"Gryffindors with their high morale, planted in your heads by our late director! And before you start to reproach me again for my talk of house rivalry, I will say that I am not trying to humiliate Gryffindor and praise Slytherin. Try to understand my point. Dylis Derwent, an outstanding healer, was a Slytherin, our mutual friend Peter Pettigrew was a Gryffindor. Morality is not related to the faculty. However, it so happened that most of the Slytherins, one way or another, were outcasts, albeit through their own fault, albeit through someone else's, but the fact remains. And as outcasts, we understand some things much deeper than the brave "lions". Yes, it will not be superfluous to admit that without the courage of Gryffindor we would have lost the war, but you will never understand the weight of the Life Debt without the help of the Slytherins. Understand that not everyone wants to be saved. Just as not all saviors want to take responsibility for someone else's life."
"I don't understand, sir."
"Which was to be proved," Snape nodded, curling his lips in a grin. "I'm not trying to blame you in any way, but I want you to know one thing: The debt of life has such a high price that not everyone can pay it."
Snape walked through the laboratory and stood by the window, thinking aloud.
"The debt of my life to James Potter cost me seventeen years of babysitting Harry. And, you know, at times I was ready to give up everything and finally start living my own life, deprived of the service of two masters who were trying to outplay each other at Russian roulette. I would take up potions, open an apothecary, make connections with colleagues, and not try to predict the next step of your reckless trinity. Or Dumbledore's schemes. Or Voldemort's intrigues. The debt of my life did not allow me to do this. Not everyone wants to be saved, Miss Granger, think about my words."
Snape left, carefully closing the door behind him. Hermione bent over the ingredients, feeling her hands shake, and the thoughts in her head interrupting each other.
Did her professor know that, thanks to her heightened sense of justice, he had acquired another Debt of Life? Did he want to be saved?
In this strange week of her apprenticeship, Hermione was annoyed to realize that all her good intentions, one way or another, would be misinterpreted by Snape.
Snape poured tea into cups, flavored with a dose of a sedative tincture, and ordered his seventh years to sit down.
"Before you start to resent, I will note that you rightly lost your points. Miss Granger is your future professor, and I will not tolerate your disrespect for her."
"But, sir, the Unforgivables!" cried Miss White, nearly spilling her tea.
"Sit down, Matilda, I am aware of the topic of your unsuccessful lecture. You are already an adult, you are one step away from living a life on your own, and in your future, no one will sweeten your pills. There was nothing wrong with Miss Granger's words. And yes, I remember vividly how you begged me to use Imperius on you when your parents were arrested and your house-elves were tortured to death. What did I tell you then?"
"That the illusion of calm will not solve our problems," McAlister said in a low voice.
"And what did I do then?"
"You read stories to us every night, here in your office, and you gave us tea."
"And I will always protect you, my children, all of us, me and the Headmistress, and the rest of the professors, but no one will sweeten your pills. Everyone is responsible for their misdeeds, this is the law of life."
"This is unfair."
"You finally get the meaning of life, Miss White. More tea?"
Hermione, who had heard the entire conversation of Snape with the students, dropped the knife and covered her face with her palms: she did everything wrong, she was lonely, and there were no friends nearby who could help and support her. And deep in her heart, she knew that deserved it.