Chapter 24
Now that she's sufficiently gotten nowhere with her task, the idea of staying out in the yard with everyone else while they play Quidditch doesn't seem so unimportant anymore. She'd have wasted no more time out there than she has in here in any case. If anything, she feels that she's wasted more time inside here, because she's done nothing productive at all.
Fine, she's organised her trunk and she's drawn up her various lists for the year (both for Muggle and Wizarding achievements), but she's not really come up with anything conclusive, has she? Nothing about a definite career path has been defined – it's still a mess in her head concerning that. Nothing about brewing potions has been decided either. She's spent all of this time up here only to have no evidence of her progress.
At times, she does finely at disappointing herself. It's just as well that she gives up trying now and go down to join everybody else. It's not too thrilling an idea to watch them playing Quidditch, when she could be organising her head, but what other choice does she have? A break might just do her some good.
Down the stairs she goes, keeping her eyes open for any movement that might save her from going outside. This time at least, she's not anxious to hear from the professor. Her latest letter from this morning was sent without the expectation of a reply, so it's not his reply that she's looking for. Rather, she'd like for any distraction that will keep her in the house and in her own company.
She wonders if that stems from being an only child – the need for time by herself at times.
In any cases, no distraction comes until she reaches the sitting room and meets Molly busy dusting.
'Are they still outside, Mrs. Weasley?' she asks only to be polite.
One thing is very clear about the Burrow, if the inside is not filled with noise, then they are outside. There are just far too many people to remain silent while indoors.
'Yes,' Molly replies as she turns to meet her stare. 'And are you all finished up there?'
Deciding that nodding is better than explaining that she didn't get anything done really, she does it and to keep that topic away from further discussion, she volunteers, 'Do you need help with anything?'
'Well, yes,' Molly answers after a second of thinking. 'It's nearly lunchtime, actually. Could you prepare the tables outside so long? Get Ginny to help you, will you!'
'Yes, Mrs. Weasley,' she nods, beginning to leave only to stop when Molly tells her something else.
'And set up one more place, please.'
Curiosity has her wanting to ask if the place is for Percy, but her mind reminds her that she shouldn't be the one to mention him. It'd be awfully heartless of her to bring him up for no reason at all. Although she stops herself from asking, her face must continue to show her question, because Molly answers what she never dared to ask.
'Professor Snape's coming to lunch, dear,' she relays with a soft smile. To be honest, there's an air of triumph on her face that's quite nice to see. 'He sent his message a little while ago.'
'He's coming?' she blurts out before she can catch herself.
It's that she didn't expect it. Her letter didn't need a reply and she never thought that she would get to see him again until the beginning of term. Although, she cannot lie and say that she's not excited to see him outside of school, especially after his replies.
'He's really coming,' Molly confirms. 'I ve been inviting him, but he's never come. He decided to come today.'
So that's what the triumph is about. She's accomplished what seemed impossible before. Concerning Professor Snape, she can understand that. She has her own little testimonies of triumph with him. They have nothing to do with anyone else and she'd never willingly offer them up to anyone, but that she has them is good enough for her.
'That's nice,' she remarks, both to the triumph and the fact that he's going to be here.
'Isn't it?' Molly agrees. 'Go on then, dear, prepare the tables.'
Quickly nodding, her mind happy at the piece of news, she nearly skips out of the house. Outside, she only breaks out in a run as a way of expressing her joy, because she would not do it otherwise. When she's reached them, she calls for Ginny to come down.
'What?' Ginny asks. 'We were winning.'
'Your mum wants us to set the tables up for lunch.'
'Yeah,' Ginny rolls her eyes, 'but you could have waited until we finished this round.'
'Sorry,' she apologises, realising that she really should have. 'You can still go back and finish your match.'
Nodding, Ginny goes back up. She gathers her brothers and Harry together, telling them something and after that, she goes flying towards the house. As soon as she touches ground, she opens the door into the house and then disappears into it.
To wait for her, she looks around the yard to find the perfect the place to set the two tables. Normally one long table would be enough, but she was told to set up tables. She can only assume that the food will be more than usual. After locating the place, making sure that it's not under where the boys are, she stands around and waits. It then hits her that she didn't even bring the tables and for a while, she struggles with herself on whether or not to go back or give Ginny the chance to remember to bring them with her. Saving her, Ginny comes from the house bearing items in either hand and to punish herself for forgetting the tables, she goes out to meet her.
'Hey, did you hear?' the other girl asks her.
Reaching for one folded table, she replies with, 'No. What?'
'Snape's coming here.'
Oh, that. She's heard, so she nods.
'He sent Mum his owl that he'll be coming for lunch,' Ginny explains, either not getting her nod or still feeling the need to tell the story in its fullness. 'She invited him, of course, the last time that he was here. Mum's over the moon, but Harry's not going to like it. He still blames him for Sirius, you know.'
'And you?' she wonders about Ginny.
'Me, what?'
'Are you going to like that he's coming?'
'I doesn't matter what I'd like, obviously,' Ginny dismisses. 'I'm more concerned about Harry. He's not going to like it.'
'I know.'
What else can she say? She's sorry about Sirius and maybe Professor Snape could have done something to get the Order there sooner, but she won't lie and say that she's like Harry. She actually is looking forward to seeing the professor. For the rest of the way, they walk in silence and only once they've set the tables down does Ginny turn to her again, her hand tugging on her sleeve.
'Come on, we need to tell Harry. I don't want it to be a surprise.'
'Yeah,' she half-heartedly agrees.
'Ron's not going to be happy about it either,' Ginny reminds her like she needed the reminder.
One would swear that Ron dislikes Professor Snape more than Harry does. The way in which he overreacts to everything that has to do with him… She opts for silence on the subject of Ron, instead allowing herself to be led along by Ginny to the boys. Ginny, using her Quidditch voice shouts for them to come down and almost at once, all four of them descend.
'What?' Ron wants to know, his eyes directed at his sister.
'Mum wants us to set the tables for lunch,' she tells him. 'And Snape's coming to lunch.'
This Ginny! She wasn't supposed to say it like that. Not so rashly. But then again, what did she really expect from Ginny?
'Why?' it's Ron who asks, but she's looking at Harry for his reaction.
'Mum invited him.'
'Harry?' Ginny tugs for his input.
'Well…' he starts, looking from Ginny to her and then to the other boys. 'I don't really want to see Snape during my summer, do I?'
'No one does, mate,' Ron comforts, to which Harry immediately looks at her.
A small pang shoots through her at that, because while she doesn't necessarily feel judged for not being unhappy about the professor's appearance, she feels accused of it in a way that makes her feel guilty.
'What?' she asks defensively.
'Do you know why he's coming?' Harry asks, getting everyone to fix their eyes on her.
'No,' she denies.
'He didn't write to you?' Harry asks again.
'He didn't.'
Why would he? He has only ever replied to her letters, not written to her specifically. Also, Harry isn't making her look good at all. Everyone is now looking at her, expecting answers from her about their professors when she has none.
'He really didn't,' she insists a second time, desperate for them to stop staring at her like this.
'Ooooooooh!'Fred and George suddenly start in sing-song tones. 'Hermione's Snape favourite! They write each other letters and such.'
'Stop it!' she snaps, bravely resisting the urge to whack them over their heads. 'He said to write him if anything happened. We aren't writing useless letters to each other, you know. And besides, why would he tell me anything?'
Cleverly, she does not stick around to listen to their replies. She's decided that she needs to busy herself with the tables and maybe distract them from asking her about things that she knows nothing about. She hears them follow her and still, she carries on moving the tables into proper position until Harry comes to help her with the second table.
'Thanks,' she begrudgingly tells him.
'You really don't know why he's coming?'
'Why would I know, Harry?'
If he were Ronald, that question would have come out more irritated than it did.
'I don't know,' Harry shrugs. 'Hermione, I don't know if it's possible, but he seems to like you. He treats you differently, you know.'
Staring at him at first, she wonders if he thinks because of what she asked him the last time. He did mention then that he watches Professor Snape a lot, but how differently could it be that Harry's noticed.
'It's not like that,' she reasons, not wanting to believe him and then have expectations that will never be met.
'But why would he be coming, then?'
'I don't know, Harry,' she cries, finishing off with the table. 'What, you think that he's coming here for me?'
In response, Harry shrugs, which can only mean that he does think that way. It's just preposterous, of course. That's not possible at all. Professor Snape would never come to the Burrow just for her.
'Harry has a point,' Fred starts as they all gather around at the erected tables.
'Yeah,' George agrees, 'if the rumours are true and you really are Snape's favourite, then he might just be coming for you. And that will make you, Miss Hermione Granger are our hero!'
Rumours? She hasn't heard anything about rumours surrounding her lately.
'What rumours?' she looks at Ginny, thinking it may be something among the Hogwarts girls.
'Harry's been saying that Snape likes you now that you're brewing for him,' she explains. 'And especially after the Ministry in the infirmary.'
Feeling just a tad incensed at the revelation, she shoots Harry a glance. This sort of thing she expected to come from Ron, but it just may be that Ron's been feeding off from Harry's theories.
'He doesn't like me,' she says to Harry. 'And I don't brew for him. I asked to be there.'
'He doesn't dislike you then,' Harry supplies.
'Even if he doesn't dislike me, it doesn't mean that he likes me.'
She's now only looking for ways to steer this talk away from where it's leading to.
'Oooooh!' the twins coo, 'Snape doesn't dislike Hermione. We wonder what that could mean.'
'Oh, shut up, you two, you'll see when he comes to lunch. I bet he won't even talk to me.'
She says that, but she can't help it hope that he doesn't ignore her. She'd hate it if he didn't once speak to her.
'Should we, Fred?' Fred looks at his brother.
'We should, George!'
With great smiles on their faces, they shake hands and then turn to her, Fred proposing, 'We'll bet you twenty Galleons that he will, if the rumours are true.'
'Twenty Galleons?'
She's stunned! The money she has, of course, but to bet on what Snape will and won't do is not her area of expertise. At school, she'd be tempted to bet, but outside of school, who knows what he'll do.
'The rumours are true, aren't they, Harry mate?' George looks at Harry, who shrugs his response. 'Because if they aren't, you owe us twenty Galleons. Come on, Hermione, let's bet.'
'I'm not betting on anything,' she refuses.
'We'll bet you anyway, dear Hermione,' they both say.
26Chapters
The purpose of nerves, she discovers when her eyes catch sight of the black robes of a one Professor Severus Snape, is to prepare the body. Previously, when she was waiting for his reply, she thought of nerves as being terrible teasers; mocking and very disturbing to one's state of mind. As of two minutes ago, however, she's learned that nerves serve an importance, after all.
Though not in the sanest state of mind where she stands, she's highly convinced that had she done her part to be nervous for his arrival, this result would not be her reaction.
A body full of bursting nerves –hoping, desiring, curious, longing, unsatisfied through the waiting; only fuelled- when he arrived, would have had the natural reaction of drowning those very nerves in the long wave of relief that would've surely erupted from within. In that instance, she would've forgotten them in the very next moment and all would've been normal again.
Since she didn't bother to do her part in preparing herself for his arrival with the corresponding nerves, since she so cleverly thought it adequate to remain calm and simply wait for him, she's now harvesting what she allowed to blossom. Calm, she's learning, that serene feeling within, not anxious in any way, is apparently capable of changing at the appearance of a man, and then disrupting everything.
Every single thing feels to have changed now, because when let to roam as it pleases, the end of calm, in contrast to the end of nerves, is chaotic.
In her life, she has never before seen the image of one man, and without a proper reason, her heart wildly rushed, followed by the world around her stopping, suddenly tumbling her upside down while her feet are firmly planted on the ground. Never had she thought that chaos could be pleasant, that is, until now.
