Disclaimer: Will take HP off of JK's hands if she's so busy she can't put out the next book.
I apologize for the wait this time. Both my Beta and I are graduating from two different high schools, within a few days of each other, and time is a little tense right now. I've also had several papers and an original story for creative writing class that demanded far more attention. I had to write with a slightly different seductive anti-hero.
This is the edited version of Miserere: The Scholar.
And onwards to the story.
"And gladly would he learn and gladly teach."
Chaucer
The Scholar
"I can't believe I did that!" Hermione giggled nonstop with a silliness completely uncharacteristic of her usual no-nonsense scholarly persona. Whether it was the hazy feeling that the alcohol conveyed, or the fact that she had retreated to the staff room with the rest of the under-30 crowd, no one could tell. She looked up to see Malfoy's face contort itself to keep from laughing and…
…and Ingrid's calm and knowing face. Don't tell me she knew. Don't tell me she knew, that damned physic-Cleo-wannabe…She took another look at her face and groaned inwardly. She knew!
"Am I really that transparent?" Ingrid asked, raising an amused eyebrow when she caught Hermione studying her.
"Fortunetellers..." Hermione huffed. "Why do I put any stock in your musings?"
"Because I'm going to say that in less than two hours, you are going to be head- first in the loo." Ingrid smirked.
"It doesn't take a fortuneteller to know that. I believe I'll be doing the same very soon," Draco burst jovially, finally releasing his pent-up laughter. "You," he pointed at the Swede, "didn't drink."
"I tend to babble," She answered smoothly, "And a babbling divinator sounds more like death in a handbasket, than a probable truth."
"So that's it!" Hermione cried. "Trelawney was drunk!" Another round of raucous laughter ensued from the former enemies.
--
"SLYTHERIN? My daughter in Slytherin?! I always knew that Sorting Hat was a bit off, only being used once a year… but honestly!" Ellen's father knelt down and grabbed her wrists, shaking them with each word. "My brave, smart, loyal daughter.. off with those snakes!"
"Daddy, it's not like I asked to be placed there!" Ellen snapped while trying vainly to slip out of his grasp. "I must be there for a reason."
"I can't believe this, honey. You'd make a better Ravenclaw."
"I'm a little more exciting than a bookworm," She replied, sounding skeptical.
Her father's library was filled with more books than she remembered. Many of them were Wizarding manuscripts, with eye-popping elegant script scrawled across the covers. "In fact, father, I'm a lot more interesting than some Ravenclaw or Hufflepuff."
Her voice was full of ice as her wrists slipped from her father's hands.
---Term Resumes—
A first year should not have been so lucky as to gain a few followers, but this was Slytherin house and power over others was not only a birthright, but expected. Ian and Carla had turned into Ellen's devoted followers. It tried her patience most of the time, but she found that it helped when it came to tutoring Carla's inept brother through potions. Surprisingly, through that one, selfless act, she had managed to gain the trust of a few Gryffindors. Bradley had the intelligence, she mused. He just let his blinding bravery and outward nobility stand in the way of academic excellence.
With Carla, however, it was very easy to discern why she had been sorted to Slytherin. She had a serious demeanor when it came to DADA and one could practically see her mind racing at the possibilities as she soaked up the class like a sponge. Of course, most of the Slytherins' minds shot off like rockets in that class. The innate power of even Defense was astounding to Ellen herself.
She studied, constantly. It was the same with every class - she studied just for the sake of grasping the basic roots of the subject, and once she understood it completely, everything else just fell into place.
"There has to be more to this," she commented one evening while reading her Charms book.
"Maybe Carla had a point. Maybe I should go for Prefect later on." She rubbed her eyes, closing her book. "If I had a broom I could let off some extra energy." However, Carla wasn't back yet. "I guess I'll go out for a run."
Freedom is the wind at my back, pushing me forwards.
She didn't even bothering pulling her soft brown curls into a ponytail; instead, she burst out of the House doors and just started to run. It never even occurred to her that no one else ran like she did, almost as if she was floating gracefully above the ground. She only knew she was fast.
That was probably the trouble back at her old school. She was too fast and others noticed the way she ran. Too good of form for her age, she looked professional. Magic must have been the reason everyone refused to race with her.
Boy, she mused, it's a little cold for a run.
Her unconscious running led her to Snape's office. She felt comfortable around the surly professor now. Ellen was not exactly hated in her class, merely just a little out of place. She praised herself for being sorted into Slytherin, where she was more accepted for some of her academic prowess when it benefited others. Her talent was appreciated when others watched. She was proud to be a Slytherin, because she watched just as everyone else did. Looking for a weakness to exploit, strength to conquer.
My father took it as an insult for me to be in Slytherin.
She wasn't cold like the popular girl in 6th year, Janice Ravell, or seductive like Kent with his perfect eyes. She was just there, and this annoyed her.
She knocked on Snape's door. Rap rap rap. "Professor?" she called out in her sweetest voice. "It's Ellen."
The door opened silently, without a single creak. The Potions Master stood halfway, towering menacingly. "Yes?"
For an instant Ellen stood with nothing to say.
"Yes?" Snape repeated, keeping the bet in mind.
In a very hushed, quiet voice, "My father hates me." Ellen looked up at him. "H-he d-d-doesn't like Slytherins all that much." Her voiced cracked a little. "H-he told me so."
"I very much doubt that, Miss Knightford. As I recall from some of the old school rosters, your father was a Hufflepuff. He'll stay loyal to you until the very end."
She nodded. "I suppose." Her small voice moved to a slightly more confident tone as she asked, "Are Hufflepuffs blind with their loyalties?"
"Only the truly small of mind." Snape answered. "You have an assignment due tomorrow. I suggest you finish it."
"Of course, Professor. Thank you."
Severus was always amazed by the way Ellen acted. She never shook in his presence like other students, nor did she ever miss a question in Potions. She just refused to be intimidated. She was only eleven, yet she acted so much older.
It worried him, just a little.
The year was passing with little interruption. Hermione was finally getting into the rhythm of being a teacher. Assignments, housepoints, grading (how the other teachers used assignments as a punishment was beyond her since it was inflicting punishment upon herself as well) and students, an endless cycle of detentions. She had received word that Vector was returning next year, and she wouldn't have as many classes to teach.
Which, of course, made her wanting more. She hadn't done much research in awhile and she was anxious to do something. Muggle Studies wasn't challenging to a muggle-born to teach.
Her field of expertise had turned out to be Potions in her seventh year and there was a world of possibilities that she could do with that. Why, she could even go to the Masters program. But that would require three years of being an apprentice under a highly accredited Potions Master. Oh hell, I wouldn't even have to leave Hogwarts to do this, would I?
She would have to apply to the program.
---April—
Dear Hermione,
Gabrielle absolutely loved the idea of having the wedding at one of the schools. She even conceded that Hogwarts would be a better choice (I don't think she liked Madame Maxine too much). I'll be by in a few days to ask the Headmaster myself. I guess there's not really much to say, other than I stopped by Harry's…and, well, even the nurse is looking a bit pants. I'll say more when I visit.
Ron
Well, if this wasn't going to disrupt her teaching rhythm, nothing would.
Time passed slowly the next few weeks. The teaching cycle continued until Hermione saw the telltale sign of a Weasley arrival. Something so incredibly loud that it had to come from Ron. Hermione heard it all the way in her 6th year Arithmancy class until she realized that the loud sound was traveling the stairs at a rapid pace, a woman's soft giggle behind the footsteps. She paused in her lesson for a brief second, knowing the inevitable was about to happen.
The door burst open with a large bang.
"Hermione!"
Hermione did her best to look unimpressed. "Class, Ronald Weasley and his fiancee, Gabrielle LeNoir." Gabrielle was gorgeous to behold. Light brown, wispy hair and very serious jade eyes.
"The one and only."
Half the class stared at the abso-bloody-lutely famous Auror joking with the teacher, and the other half stared at the very pretty lady holding his hand. Ron looked, well, he looked a lot like he did as a teenager. Tall and redheaded as the sun at noon, just longer and curlier, past his ears. Hermione had noticed that that particular hairstyle was popular for their age. She took a quick look around the room and gave a hearty sigh. "Alright, class dismissed. Go swotting or something." She waved her hand as her class vacated.
"Hermione! It iz grand to zee you again!" Gabrielle ran to her fellow witch's side and gave her a hug, turning around so that Hermione faced the wall instead of Ron.
"Little impromptu of you, Gabi, isn't it?" she smiled as 'Gabi' motioned to Ron.
"I am sorry, I'm in a good mood." The girls released each other. "Albus relented to uz using zee Great Hall already."
Hermione pretended to be shocked. "Brill! I'm so happy!"
"Hermione…" Ron started. "We have one more surprise for you."
She turned back around to face the doorway, eyes opening and bursting into cheers of joy. "Cor, you didn't."
At the doorway was a disheveled young man with a certain distinct scar, hardly standing on his own two feet.
"H-Harry..." Hermione stammered. "You're…awake…" She stumbled, walking forward. Ron nudged Harry farther into the room. "We're all together again."
Ron grinned. "All we need now is Malfoy harassing us and us breaking into Snape's office."
"I wouldn't recommend breaking into our dear Professor Grumpy's office, but I can annoy you if you wish." Draco silkily moved into the room.
"Malfoy," Ron said, with just a touch of civility
"Weasley." Draco nodded his head. "Potter."
"Draco," Harry replied, with a little more class, looking his former adversary in the face. "Nice to see you again."
"Pleasure." They shook each other's hand in a peculiar sign of respect, causing a reaction on Ron's face of innate shock.
Hermione's face brightened. "Ron, you look more amazed than I did when Albus told me I was to teach second years."
"That early?"
"He changed the curriculum slightly. He thought it needed to be taught earlier." She smacked her head. "What a dim I am. Draco, this is Ron's fiancée, Gabrielle LeNoir."
"Charmed," Draco replied, bowing slightly, displaying the old Malfoy manners. "Ron, you are one lucky bloke. You actually managed to find a non-redhead. Maybe you'll break the Weasley tradition."
Ron looked aback, and then laughed loudly, breaking apart everything that had happened in the past. Hermione smiled broadly. "Why don't we go out to dinner tonight, Draco? Grab the Swede, I'm sure she'd love to meet everyone."
"If she doesn't already know to come." Draco rolled his eyes and then noticed Harry and Ron's confused looks. "The new Divination teacher."
"I see," Ron responded," I'd love to chat more butAlbus asked to meet with us again today."
"Alright, you two." She pointed to Ron and Gabi. "Go meet with Albus. I have to talk with Severus." She had a very nervous look on her face. "Trying to make that immovable object agree to accept me as an apprentice is a task far worse than a 15 page application. I'll meet up with you guys afterwards."
The five parted quickly, with more hugs and handshakes.
--
"Severus." Hermione pounded on the door. "Severus!"
Silence. Annoyance.
"Severus Snape, you said you would talk to me!" She called. She gave it a final knock and stealthily moved her foot forward when the door finally cracked open.
"I was working," Severus said quietly, regarding the younger Professor with amusement. "What is it you wanted?"
Hermione took a deep breath. I can do this; he's not the big scary Professor anymore. She showed him an acceptance letter. "I'd like to be a Potions Master."
"So?"
"I need to be an apprentice first, for a three…"
The ravenous form huddled over a scroll. "I know the program."
"Since I'm already here, I figured I could ask you to be my Potions Master." Oh boy, that nearly came out wrong.
"No."
"Severus, please." She concentrated on choosing her words carefully. "I need a challenge, and this seems like one. You are the perfect choice to help."
"I do not need you again as a student. You are a Professor, act like it."
Hermione moved closer to the man she needed to convince. "The way I see it, I'm going to be terribly unhappy until you relent. I have nothing against being a student again, as well as a Professor. I need this."
Snape turned around to find the woman staring up at him intently. She would get what she wanted eventually, he realized, either with his permission or she'd go to Albus, and with an inward groan he said, "Can you? Can you become a student at night and teach your classes during the day? Can you make that sacrifice?"
"Severus, in my view of learning, that is not a sacrifice." Hermione leveled him with a stare. "You don't make sacrifices for things such as this. You allow things to happen."
"We will begin at the start of the next term. We can work out the details later." Severus motioned for her to leave.
"Certainly." She gave him a nod of her head, letting her hair fall closely to her face. "Thank you Severus."
This girl is going to be the death of me, he thought, running his fingers through his hair, mentally correcting girl to woman. He went back to his work, thinking about how the hell he was going to have a Professor as his student next term.
Hermione, however, left Severus's office and closed the door. As soon as she made it a little down the hall, she whispered gleefully, "I did it…" Damn, I could have been a Slytherin.
Next time on Miserere: Oh just go to dinner already, and why are they all getting along?
More A/N: To my dedicated noters:
PartlyFoxy: Oh trust me, I have far more interesting plans for Draco. Poor Draco…he really gets the short end of the stick in a few years.
Emu: Hush you. Hush hush.
Strega: Thank you. You don't know how much I enjoy your writing, and I'm elated that you even looked at mine.
C Chai: Thank you for catching my mistakes. I really have to go back and edit the first chapter.
As always, big thanks to the ladies at WIKTT, my beta Emily, and my reviewers. Wouldn't you like to be mentioned too? Go ahead, write a review.
If anyone else would like to be informed when I update, please leave a note with your email address, and I'll set my mail program to send you an email.
