AN: Thanks to all who reviewed; and since we all hate disclaimers SO VERY
MUCH, I've put one in the first chapter and if you REALLY get pleasure out
of reading me subjecting myself to Girl Scout's Honour (YES, I'm a Girl
Scout, NO, I know you can't believe it, and NO, don't try to argue with me
- It'll look good on my college transcripts), go back there and read it.
CHAPTER TWO
Old Friends, New Colleagues
Severus Snape is about to be angry, Hermione reflected calmly. Very, VERY angry.
She was helping herd the first years - Hogwarts had just received its largest class ever - to the castle, trying to catch up with Professor McGonagall on the goings-on of the school as she did. Unfortunately, she was not having much success, and as McGonagall looked at Hermione rather helplessly, the latter got a mischievous gleam in her eye.
"Am I going to like this?" McGonagall asked, slightly suspicious. She and Hermione had become very good friends in the past twelve years since Hermione's graduation, and the older woman knew not to mess with her young protégée when she got that look.
"Oh, yes."
"That usually means I'm not," grumbled McGonagall, and Hermione laughed, a rich, happy sound that evoked thoughts of tinkling bells.
"Don't WORRY, Minerva, trust me. After all, I AM the new Head of Gryffindor."
"Would you deduct house points if I said that that made me feel even worse?" McGonagall retorted good-naturedly.
"But of course."
"From your own House?" Even McGonagall was taken aback.
Hermione grinned wickedly. "Oh, don't get your fur all up in a bunch," she sighed. "The best thing about being the Defense Against the Dark Arts professor is that you get all the students, and you can play favourites. And you know, I rather like the idea of being able to both take AND give points..."
As McGonagall rolled her eyes, Hermione grinned again, plunging her hand into her robes to find her wand.
"Sonorus!" she exclaimed, and her voice magically amplified. "All first years, please follow either Professor McGonagall or me. This way, please." Hermione waved her wand in the air, conjuring up the words, "First Years This Way" in waving, silvery ribbon.
This easily claimed the attention of all the first years (and some older students otherwise), who clambered to follow the two professors to the lake.
Once they were across, McGonagall and Hermione led them into the very same chamber in which Hermione had once worried about which spell she would need to know to be Sorted. "You can handle them from here, I trust?"
"Of course," Minerva replied. "Thank you, Hermione. I will see you in a bit."
"See you." Smiling brightly at the terrified new students as she left, she whispered, "Can't wait to see some of you in Gryffindor."
One student, in particular, snorted as Hermione left, mumbling to some others around him something about "mudbloods" and "dirty Muggles". She whipped around, pointing her wand menacingly at the child - it wasn't hard to tell which one; white blond hair, pale skin, icy blue eyes that just swam in arrogance, they all stood out to her as a bright pink cauldron amongst forty other black ones would.
"Mister Malfoy," she said coldly, "I will thank you very much not to insult my heritage whilst I am still in the room, or you may find yourself on the receiving end of a rather nasty hex. I AM the Defense Against the Dark Arts professor, you know - or didn't your dear FATHER tell you?" hissed Hermione, voice acid enough to burn through any substance.
McGonagall hid a small snicker, as small laughs-turned-coughs echoed around the room.
"Oh - and one more thing, as I'm already positive by that absolutely ANGELIC behaviour that you will go to Slytherin - ten points from it," Hermione snapped, sobering up all the others. Her long red robe billowed out behind her as she strode out of the room, reminding Minerva McGonagall eerily of Professor Snape.
=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=
"Hermione," Dumbledore asked in a low voice intended only for her, "is everything alright?"
Her head whipped towards him. "Of course, Prof - Albus," she replied calmly. "Everything is perfectly fine."
He waved towards the hourglasses on the wall. "Then may I ask why points have just been deducted from Slytherin, before the term has begun?"
"Of course. We all very well know that all Malfoys will be sorted into Slytherin, and he..." Hermione coughed softly. "The young Mr. Malfoy insulted staff by calling one particular member a 'Mudblood'. I would believe that that is sufficient reason for deducting points." She reasoned softly.
Albus simply nodded. "Very well."
"Thank you for your confidence, sir," Hermione replied, and slid easily into her seat. With a glance at her right, Hermione said, just as softly but infinitely more coolly, "Severus."
Her old Potions Master's glare was enough to freeze even mercury, but Hermione stood her ground. Finally giving up, Snape replied, just as coolly, "Miss Granger."
Hermione let out an irritated puff of air. Some things would never change about her former teacher, and of all of them, he chose to react with the only one that would cause HER annoyance. Now irked by the same man she'd determined to try to connect with this term, the new professor turned to her other side, striking up a conversation with Professor Vector, the Arithmancy professor with whom Hermione had not spoken in years.
One very interested set of eyes watched this exchange, fascinated, from the Gryffindor table, wondering what his father had said to get a reaction from the newest staff member, who looked oddly familiar.
CHAPTER TWO
Old Friends, New Colleagues
Severus Snape is about to be angry, Hermione reflected calmly. Very, VERY angry.
She was helping herd the first years - Hogwarts had just received its largest class ever - to the castle, trying to catch up with Professor McGonagall on the goings-on of the school as she did. Unfortunately, she was not having much success, and as McGonagall looked at Hermione rather helplessly, the latter got a mischievous gleam in her eye.
"Am I going to like this?" McGonagall asked, slightly suspicious. She and Hermione had become very good friends in the past twelve years since Hermione's graduation, and the older woman knew not to mess with her young protégée when she got that look.
"Oh, yes."
"That usually means I'm not," grumbled McGonagall, and Hermione laughed, a rich, happy sound that evoked thoughts of tinkling bells.
"Don't WORRY, Minerva, trust me. After all, I AM the new Head of Gryffindor."
"Would you deduct house points if I said that that made me feel even worse?" McGonagall retorted good-naturedly.
"But of course."
"From your own House?" Even McGonagall was taken aback.
Hermione grinned wickedly. "Oh, don't get your fur all up in a bunch," she sighed. "The best thing about being the Defense Against the Dark Arts professor is that you get all the students, and you can play favourites. And you know, I rather like the idea of being able to both take AND give points..."
As McGonagall rolled her eyes, Hermione grinned again, plunging her hand into her robes to find her wand.
"Sonorus!" she exclaimed, and her voice magically amplified. "All first years, please follow either Professor McGonagall or me. This way, please." Hermione waved her wand in the air, conjuring up the words, "First Years This Way" in waving, silvery ribbon.
This easily claimed the attention of all the first years (and some older students otherwise), who clambered to follow the two professors to the lake.
Once they were across, McGonagall and Hermione led them into the very same chamber in which Hermione had once worried about which spell she would need to know to be Sorted. "You can handle them from here, I trust?"
"Of course," Minerva replied. "Thank you, Hermione. I will see you in a bit."
"See you." Smiling brightly at the terrified new students as she left, she whispered, "Can't wait to see some of you in Gryffindor."
One student, in particular, snorted as Hermione left, mumbling to some others around him something about "mudbloods" and "dirty Muggles". She whipped around, pointing her wand menacingly at the child - it wasn't hard to tell which one; white blond hair, pale skin, icy blue eyes that just swam in arrogance, they all stood out to her as a bright pink cauldron amongst forty other black ones would.
"Mister Malfoy," she said coldly, "I will thank you very much not to insult my heritage whilst I am still in the room, or you may find yourself on the receiving end of a rather nasty hex. I AM the Defense Against the Dark Arts professor, you know - or didn't your dear FATHER tell you?" hissed Hermione, voice acid enough to burn through any substance.
McGonagall hid a small snicker, as small laughs-turned-coughs echoed around the room.
"Oh - and one more thing, as I'm already positive by that absolutely ANGELIC behaviour that you will go to Slytherin - ten points from it," Hermione snapped, sobering up all the others. Her long red robe billowed out behind her as she strode out of the room, reminding Minerva McGonagall eerily of Professor Snape.
=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=
"Hermione," Dumbledore asked in a low voice intended only for her, "is everything alright?"
Her head whipped towards him. "Of course, Prof - Albus," she replied calmly. "Everything is perfectly fine."
He waved towards the hourglasses on the wall. "Then may I ask why points have just been deducted from Slytherin, before the term has begun?"
"Of course. We all very well know that all Malfoys will be sorted into Slytherin, and he..." Hermione coughed softly. "The young Mr. Malfoy insulted staff by calling one particular member a 'Mudblood'. I would believe that that is sufficient reason for deducting points." She reasoned softly.
Albus simply nodded. "Very well."
"Thank you for your confidence, sir," Hermione replied, and slid easily into her seat. With a glance at her right, Hermione said, just as softly but infinitely more coolly, "Severus."
Her old Potions Master's glare was enough to freeze even mercury, but Hermione stood her ground. Finally giving up, Snape replied, just as coolly, "Miss Granger."
Hermione let out an irritated puff of air. Some things would never change about her former teacher, and of all of them, he chose to react with the only one that would cause HER annoyance. Now irked by the same man she'd determined to try to connect with this term, the new professor turned to her other side, striking up a conversation with Professor Vector, the Arithmancy professor with whom Hermione had not spoken in years.
One very interested set of eyes watched this exchange, fascinated, from the Gryffindor table, wondering what his father had said to get a reaction from the newest staff member, who looked oddly familiar.