The Christmas holidays had finally arrived at Hogwarts. As usual,
Dumbledore had managed to over decorate and overdo the Christmas cheer.
Lighted fairies hovered in festive greenery that flowed up staircases,
around arches and circled the center courtyard. Four giant Christmas trees
filled the corners of the Great Hall, covered with small enchanted St.
Nicholas ornaments that serenaded the students with soft Christmas carols
during meals.
Dinner was a quiet and lazy affair that night for Harry and Ron. Most of their holiday homework was complete already. They didn't have to keep up with cheery conversations at the Gryffindor table as many students were in the dormitory, hurriedly packing for the morning train ride back to London. They sat, slowly pushing mashed potatoes and slivers of pork loin around their plates, occasionally taking a bite. When dessert appeared, Ron became a bit more interested, helping himself to seconds - carrot cake was always a weak point for him no matter how depressed he was. Harry, however, pushed back his plate and leaned on the table while he watched the activities around the Hall with a disinterested spirit.
The faculty appeared to have broken open a very large and dusty bottle of Professor Dumbledore's brandy and most of them were lingering at the Head table over dessert and their drinks. Professor McGonagall and Dumbledore appeared to be in an animated conversation about something humorous, and Professors Flitwick and Sprout were scurrying up a small ladder to adjust the ornaments at the top of one of the giant Christmas trees under the watchful eye of Hagrid. A small group of professors were beginning to giggle as they played a rather quiet game of Exploding Snap - they must be using a silencing spell, Harry mused. His eyes then drifted to the only professor sitting alone.
Snape.
Well, that figures, Harry thought, I don't suppose he's ever been filled with the Christmas spirit. Harry quietly examined his potions professor as Ron began to put away a third slice of carrot cake -- after he pilfered the frosting from Harry's uneaten piece.
Snape sat quietly at his corner of the Head Table, ignoring the happy conversations around him. Swirling his share of the Headmaster's brandy in his glass and staring at it intently. Occasionally, a small pop would resound from the Exploding Snap game and he would raise just his eyes to rest on the merry players. Finally, Snape seemed to be making a decision. He finished his drink, pushed aside his dinnerware and looked up -- right at Harry.
And Harry, for the first time in memory, did not flinch under his intense gaze.
Snape broke eye contact with Harry and slid his gaze first to Ron - complete with a sneer as he watched the oblivious young man tear through his dessert - and then to the empty place across the table from them. Harry could have sworn that he saw a flicker of sadness cross his face. Hermione was a genius in potions and arithmancy, Harry reasoned, perhaps Snape was disheartened to lose such a good student and protégé. The black eyes flicked back to Harry, and Snape slowly nodded with understanding for the young man and his latest loss. Harry quirked a small, lopsided grin to the surly professor, just as all Hell broke loose in the Hall.
A pop, barely louder than the muffled ones coming from the Head Table, drew the attention of professor and student to the entry doors of the Great Hall. Green and black eyes widened in shock as they saw the panting figure leaning against the doors.
"Hermione!" called Harry and Snape, in unison.
Both men abruptly rose to their feet. Snape's chair met the ground with a noisy clatter and pumpkin juice flew as Harry raced to her, quickly followed by Ron. Dumbledore and McGonagall hurried down from the Head Table and students and professors alike let out a cheer, as Flitwick and Sprout tumbled into the Christmas tree they were tinkering with - sending it to the ground with a tinkling crash. In the pandemonium, no one noticed the potions master's chest hitching with repressed emotion as drank in the vision that was Hermione. Disheveled, panting, dusty Hermione - who was slightly bent over from exhaustion and looking rather frantic. But to those who had missed her all these months, she was a true vision. Snape's view was abruptly cut off as Hermione was mobbed by students from all four houses and professors and was gathered into a big bear hug by Ron and Harry. Then everyone began to talk at once --
"Hermione, you're home."
"Where have you been?"
"Are you okay?"
"Hermione! Gods we missed you!"
"Miss Granger, so good to have you back!"
"Hermione, say something?"
"Miss Granger --?"
Hermione lifted her head to look frantically around the Great Hall, gaze landing on Headmaster Dumbledore. A jolt of realization hit him as their eyes met.
"Poppy! Poppy! Please take Ms -- Please take Hermione to the Hospital Wing. I believe the journey home has been too much for her," Dumbledore said, as he briskly conjured a stretcher and lifted the quickly panicking Hermione onto it.
"It will be all right, my dear," he whispered to Hermione. He kissed her forehead. "Poppy has been prepared for this for a good many years. I leave you in good hands."
And with a swish of Pomfrey's wand, the doors to the Great Hall opened, taking Hermione from them as swiftly as she had returned. Harry and Ron began to follow the stretcher and were surprised to find themselves restrained by a gentle hand on each shoulder.
"Tonight, I believe that Hermione needs company other than our own," the wizard said. Harry and Ron began to protest. Dumbledore simply lifted a hand to stop them. "No."
Dumbledore slowly walked to the stage that was home to the Head Table and mounted the steps. Slowly, contemplatively, he turned to the Hall and all of its current residents who were intently focused on him.
"I suppose that it is time for me to tell you what has happened to our lovely Hermione," he said, glancing sharply at the potions master who still stood as though petrified. "Yes, I suppose that it is finally time."
tbc
Again, thanks to the reviewers who have given me some excellent points to ponder. As I told one, I'm not sure why I thought a convoluted time travel piece was the best place to start as I attempted fiction, but I did. I've had a historical romance plot brewing in my head for some time, and I thought a nice fanfic would be good practice.
Oh, and I know I left off the disclaimer. It means nothing legally, and is pointless. And besides, JK Rowling could care less that I took her toys out to play for a few days. Luckily, she sees fanfic as a form of flattery, so hats off to JK!
Dinner was a quiet and lazy affair that night for Harry and Ron. Most of their holiday homework was complete already. They didn't have to keep up with cheery conversations at the Gryffindor table as many students were in the dormitory, hurriedly packing for the morning train ride back to London. They sat, slowly pushing mashed potatoes and slivers of pork loin around their plates, occasionally taking a bite. When dessert appeared, Ron became a bit more interested, helping himself to seconds - carrot cake was always a weak point for him no matter how depressed he was. Harry, however, pushed back his plate and leaned on the table while he watched the activities around the Hall with a disinterested spirit.
The faculty appeared to have broken open a very large and dusty bottle of Professor Dumbledore's brandy and most of them were lingering at the Head table over dessert and their drinks. Professor McGonagall and Dumbledore appeared to be in an animated conversation about something humorous, and Professors Flitwick and Sprout were scurrying up a small ladder to adjust the ornaments at the top of one of the giant Christmas trees under the watchful eye of Hagrid. A small group of professors were beginning to giggle as they played a rather quiet game of Exploding Snap - they must be using a silencing spell, Harry mused. His eyes then drifted to the only professor sitting alone.
Snape.
Well, that figures, Harry thought, I don't suppose he's ever been filled with the Christmas spirit. Harry quietly examined his potions professor as Ron began to put away a third slice of carrot cake -- after he pilfered the frosting from Harry's uneaten piece.
Snape sat quietly at his corner of the Head Table, ignoring the happy conversations around him. Swirling his share of the Headmaster's brandy in his glass and staring at it intently. Occasionally, a small pop would resound from the Exploding Snap game and he would raise just his eyes to rest on the merry players. Finally, Snape seemed to be making a decision. He finished his drink, pushed aside his dinnerware and looked up -- right at Harry.
And Harry, for the first time in memory, did not flinch under his intense gaze.
Snape broke eye contact with Harry and slid his gaze first to Ron - complete with a sneer as he watched the oblivious young man tear through his dessert - and then to the empty place across the table from them. Harry could have sworn that he saw a flicker of sadness cross his face. Hermione was a genius in potions and arithmancy, Harry reasoned, perhaps Snape was disheartened to lose such a good student and protégé. The black eyes flicked back to Harry, and Snape slowly nodded with understanding for the young man and his latest loss. Harry quirked a small, lopsided grin to the surly professor, just as all Hell broke loose in the Hall.
A pop, barely louder than the muffled ones coming from the Head Table, drew the attention of professor and student to the entry doors of the Great Hall. Green and black eyes widened in shock as they saw the panting figure leaning against the doors.
"Hermione!" called Harry and Snape, in unison.
Both men abruptly rose to their feet. Snape's chair met the ground with a noisy clatter and pumpkin juice flew as Harry raced to her, quickly followed by Ron. Dumbledore and McGonagall hurried down from the Head Table and students and professors alike let out a cheer, as Flitwick and Sprout tumbled into the Christmas tree they were tinkering with - sending it to the ground with a tinkling crash. In the pandemonium, no one noticed the potions master's chest hitching with repressed emotion as drank in the vision that was Hermione. Disheveled, panting, dusty Hermione - who was slightly bent over from exhaustion and looking rather frantic. But to those who had missed her all these months, she was a true vision. Snape's view was abruptly cut off as Hermione was mobbed by students from all four houses and professors and was gathered into a big bear hug by Ron and Harry. Then everyone began to talk at once --
"Hermione, you're home."
"Where have you been?"
"Are you okay?"
"Hermione! Gods we missed you!"
"Miss Granger, so good to have you back!"
"Hermione, say something?"
"Miss Granger --?"
Hermione lifted her head to look frantically around the Great Hall, gaze landing on Headmaster Dumbledore. A jolt of realization hit him as their eyes met.
"Poppy! Poppy! Please take Ms -- Please take Hermione to the Hospital Wing. I believe the journey home has been too much for her," Dumbledore said, as he briskly conjured a stretcher and lifted the quickly panicking Hermione onto it.
"It will be all right, my dear," he whispered to Hermione. He kissed her forehead. "Poppy has been prepared for this for a good many years. I leave you in good hands."
And with a swish of Pomfrey's wand, the doors to the Great Hall opened, taking Hermione from them as swiftly as she had returned. Harry and Ron began to follow the stretcher and were surprised to find themselves restrained by a gentle hand on each shoulder.
"Tonight, I believe that Hermione needs company other than our own," the wizard said. Harry and Ron began to protest. Dumbledore simply lifted a hand to stop them. "No."
Dumbledore slowly walked to the stage that was home to the Head Table and mounted the steps. Slowly, contemplatively, he turned to the Hall and all of its current residents who were intently focused on him.
"I suppose that it is time for me to tell you what has happened to our lovely Hermione," he said, glancing sharply at the potions master who still stood as though petrified. "Yes, I suppose that it is finally time."
tbc
Again, thanks to the reviewers who have given me some excellent points to ponder. As I told one, I'm not sure why I thought a convoluted time travel piece was the best place to start as I attempted fiction, but I did. I've had a historical romance plot brewing in my head for some time, and I thought a nice fanfic would be good practice.
Oh, and I know I left off the disclaimer. It means nothing legally, and is pointless. And besides, JK Rowling could care less that I took her toys out to play for a few days. Luckily, she sees fanfic as a form of flattery, so hats off to JK!