It was two weeks since Hermione lost her mother. Breast cancer, caught too late. She was at Hogwarts when she got the horrible news. She was allowed to go home, to see her mother's funeral. Here she was, back at school, her mother fresh in the ground. She didn't want to miss too many lessons. She realized she was still in shock; she was worried about school at a time like this? But it was supposed to distract her. Distract her, though she couldn't go five minutes without thinking about her mother. Even her father was still in pain. She'd never seen him cry until after the funeral. They'd broken down and cried together. Seeing her father cry, it really hit her. It sealed it; made it seem real and final.
My mom is gone.
No more Italian wedding soup when Hermione was ill; no more singing in the car while traveling to various places; no more late-night talks about boys, school, whatever. Even now, sitting at the picture window in the Gryffindor common room, Hermione could still smell her mother's Victoria's Secret "Heavenly" lotion that she couldn't live without. She remembered her mom's reaction when she found out that her daughter was a Witch: complete pride, and excitement. They'd stayed up that night talking about it for hours.
"Hermione, you comin' to class? We have Potions in ten minutes." Ron looked worried.
"Yes… just a sec."
She gathered her wits and got up from her idle repose. "Let's go."
~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~
"Mr. Longbottom, it never ceases to amaze me how even the simplest of instructions go in one ear and out the other in that thick head of yours! Add the SLUGS before the porcupine quills, lest you blow us all up."
Professor Snape, ever a tactful man, was reprimanding Neville Longbottom yet again. Neville was never very good in potions, but Professor Snape didn't help his weak position by embarrassing him and reproaching him every chance he got. Hermione, who had always like Neville, was sick of it. She's listened to that horrible man's comments for six years, and now in her seventh, she'd had enough.
"Professor Snape, I would think you of all people would be smart enough to realize that bullying Neville won't solve ANYTHING. You're the only teacher who has ever been at his throat like this, and you wonder why he doesn't do well in your class? He's terrified of you! You are HORRIBLE to him!"
"Miss Granger, if you – "
"No! You listen now, Professor Snape." Hermione rose from her seat and walked up to her teacher. "I've listened to you yell at him for six years, and I've suffered your smart remarks to me and my friends, and had to bear it when you favor Slytherins above all other students, and I'm sick of it! You're the most cruel, horrible, insufferable person I have ever met, and I will NOT keep quiet anymore! I'm sick of just sitting around and taking it, and not standing up to your vicious and brutal remarks! Somebody for once has to stand up to you, and it might as well be me! If nobody else has the balls to tell you how rotten you are, I will!"
The entire class was dead quiet. Even the Slytherins looked afraid, for Hermione. Ron and Harry looked as though they were seconds from dying of fright. Snape regarded Hermione with cool eyes, but she did not lose her resolve. She returned his icy gaze with one just as cold. Suddenly, his face softened. "Well done, Miss Granger," he said quietly.
Hermione looked uncertain for a few seconds. "What?"
"I said, well done. In all of my years teaching here, nobody has ever had the courage to stand up to me like you have just done. And of all people, I never would have thought that you would be the one to do it. You are a true Gyffindor; that is plain to my eyes. Two points from Gryffindor for use of the word 'balls' in a derogatory manner, and I would like to see you after lessons. Please take your seat.
"Oh, and ten points to Gryffindor, for a perfect demonstration of a Gryffindor's ideals."
The entire class released the collective breath they were holding, while all of the Gryffindors stood up and cheered. Hermione was left gaping at Snape before she could register the cheers and applause. Then she sat down in her seat, blushing a deep shade of crimson and barely acknowledging her classmates. She was suddenly very interested in a piece of lint on her feather quill.
Snape smiled to himself. *She certainly has grown up. I never thought she had it in her. Well, I knew she was the smartest young woman I'd ever met, but that brave? Never.*
"Okay, everyone, shut up now. Bring your potions down to a simmer, stir them once counter-clockwise, and we'll see how well you all have listened."
~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~
Lunch was barely touched at the Gryffindor table as Hermione received praise and congratulations for besting Snape at his own game. Nobody could really believe it until those in the class confirmed it.
"Bloody brilliant, Miss Granger, I must say," said Fred Weasly.
"Yes, good show, good show," said George Weasly.
"Unbelievable!" said Angela Spinnet, with admiration hardly concealed.
"You guys should have seen it," Ron cried. "It was perfect! She didn't even let him interrupt; she just went for his throat!"
"Yep, it was something. I'm so proud of my wittle Hermie!" Harry joked.
"Oh, sit on it, Harry," Hermione snapped, then smiled to let him know she was joking. He just smiled and joined the others in their glee. But Hermione was worried. She hadn't been joking when she'd snapped at Harry. What was wrong with her? These were her friends, and she was isolating herself from them. She sighed, and joined them in their festivities.
About ten minutes before lunch was due to end, Dumbledore called for attention.
"I know this is very short notice, but I have good news. Hogwarts will be hosting a talent show this Friday, for students to express their gifts in singing, magic 'tricks', dancing, and other areas." Before he could continue, the entire hall burst into applause. He smiled and waited for the school to settle down. "To sign up and audition, please see Professor McGonagall. Enjoy the rest of your lunch."
"Wow!" Dean cried. "Hey, who's going to sign up?"
Hermione's conquest was momentarily forgotten as the students buzzed happily about who would do what. That left her to think, which wasn't something she presently wanted to do, if it wasn't about her studies.
"Mommy, can I sing you a song?" Four year-old Hermione came bouncing over to her mother happily.
"Of course honey! What's it called?"
"I don't know!" Hermione cried gleefully. "But it's really pretty. I heard it on the radio this morning."
Linda Granger smiled. Her daughter was so cute. After that thought, Hermione dazzled her mother with a rendition of "Babyface". Her daughter was very precocious, she knew, but this was amazing. She'd memorized every lyric after hearing it once, and held a tune while she sang. She even seemed to understand what she was singing. Her mother clapped when she was done, beaming at her beautiful young daughter. She knew her daughter would grown up to be something special.
A ten year-old Hermione singing in a school play. She was Mary Magdalene in the play "Jesus Christ Superstar". It seemed a little risqué for a group of ten year-olds, but Hermione was doing so well, and she had such a beautiful voice.
Hermione of all ages, singing in the shower, the car, getting the mail, sitting on the sofa watching "The Simpsons". Even singing the ingredients to potions, quietly of course, to help her remember. None of her friends at Hogwarts knew she could sing. She'd been too busy studying to bother. Plus, unless she charmed her CD player that was sitting long forgotten at the bottom of her trunk, she couldn't listen to music when she pleased.
"Earth to Hermione! This is earth, requesting the attention of Hermione Granger!" Harry was waving his hand and snapping his fingers in front of his friend's face.
"Oh, sorry!" She blushed; she'd been lost in a flashback.
"Time for class!" Ron said.
"Right," Hermione sighed.
~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~
The end of the day was here, and it was time to meet Snape. Ron and Harry were sympathetic and told Hermione that they would wait up for her. She decided she would go to the dungeons since she wasn't sure exactly where he wanted to meet her.
At the door, she paused, and knocked. She couldn't even be sure that anybody on the other side could hear a knock on that thick, ornate entry. She heard nothing from the inside of the room, and decided to let herself in. The door was unlocked, after all.
The room was the same that they'd been using for Potions since their first year, and the desk was still covered in papers and quills. And something else – a drawing? That was odd. Hermione had no idea that Snape could draw. Cautiously, she walked over to the enormous desk and gazed at the sketch before her.
"Oh my god…."
It was a drawing of her. It was a three-quarter view of her face, as though she was looking at somebody to her left. And he caught her laughing. Under that sketch was another of her, this time looking directly at the artist or the viewer. She had a serene, wise expression on her face, one that Hermione hadn't even realized until now that she could make. She looked… rather pretty in the portrait. Even beautiful. She shook her head. "Wow… I didn't know he was such an artist. These are… wonderful."
"Well, I don't like to brag, but, thank you, Miss Granger."
Hermione thought she would have a heart attack on the spot. Had he been standing in the doorway watching her, and listening to her? Oh boy. She would have given anything to be facing Voldemort right now instead of her potions teacher.
"P-P-Professor Snape! I'm so sorry! T-The door – it was open, a-and I thought – I didn't think – I assumed you'd be – I-I didn't mean to look – I'm sorry!" Hermione had gone a delightful shade of red as she stammered and stuttered her apologies. Snape put up a hand to silence her, and she immediately shut up.
"Miss Granger, while it was not entirely correct for you to enter the classroom without invitation, I think it is safe to assume your intentions were not of malice, so I shall let it slide." Hermione's face went blank. *He's not taking points off? I don't understand!* "As for the drawings, they are merely the product of a homework-free night. You have a very classic Anglo-Saxon face, and as I took drawing lessons when I was a young man, I decided I would test myself.
"Now, you are here because while you were very brave in your rebellion, you still need to be punished for you insolence. However, since I am slightly surprised at and actually quite proud of you, I shall go easy on your punishment. Therefore, your punishment will be to label the potions ingredients in my cabinet. I find that, though I know what everything looks like, it is much easier to organize the shelves… and not worry about little mistakes by selecting the wrong ingredient because it looks like another. Besides, it does not help that my handwriting is atrocious enough to rival any muggle doctor's. Even I can't read it sometimes.
"So, you will find the labels next to the cabinet. Please line them up in the cabinet in alphabetical order. I will be in my quarters next door. Yell if you need me. And Miss Granger," he paused, causing Hermione to look up at him, "do not assume that my amiable temperament will last through this night. You will most likely discover that tomorrow I will be back to being my own miserable self. Don't be too disappointed, now." And with a quick sweeping of his cloak, he stalked out of the room.
"That was TOO weird." Hermione said out loud. She shrugged and began her hour-long task. When she finished, she stood up and paused. *What now? Do I just leave? I should say something.*
"Professor?" she called. Silence. "Professor Snape? I'm done! What should I do?" More silence. Sighing, Hermione walked out of the lab, into the hallway. *Okay… he said he was next door, which would imply that there is a door somewhere, but I've having a lot of trouble finding it. Great, another Hogwarts mystery. Perfect. Well, I'm leaving.*