Chapter 2: In which Hermione writes of her latest research to Hogwarts
[Dear Professor Flitwick,
Thank you for the encouragement you have given me.
Professor Balabus and I stay keen and determined to find a solution to the many curses that are still in the midst of the wizarding world. We are, of course, only one of the several groups in the Ministry working towards our goal, but do not worry, we will all prevail!
Your suggestions have been most helpful, as usual. This letter comes together with the compliments of Professor Balabus. He's especially keen to meet you, to how did he put it? Yes, to share and pluck the nerve fibres in your much esteemed head. It does not make for a very picturesque metaphor, does it? I was suitably grossed out.
It is generous of you and Professors Dumbledore and McGonagall to invite me to visit Hogwarts for a week, now that the holidays have started. I have made the arrangements and look forward to the stay.
Yours sincerely,
Hermione Granger]
'All right, you impatient Beak. Come here and stay still.' Hermione beckoned the grey speckled owl and tied the letter to his leg, 'You will behave, won't you? I'll hate it if Professor Flitwick writes to say how greedy you were.'
The owl, whose name ranged from Beak, to Bouncing Bird, to Bobbing Boat, to any name that Hermione could think of that started with 'B', gave his owner a playful peck before flying away.
Hermione grinned. No matter how busy she was, she made it a point to write to her teachers and friends so that she could be in contact with them and know what they were up to. Her parents, she went for a weekend stay at their home whenever she could. It was fortunate her parents were understanding and trusted their daughter to know she took responsibility in the decisions she made.
She swept up the pile off papers on her table and filed them neatly. Beni Balabus was quite particular about tidiness. His working place was practically the epitome of 'Dirt Is Unheard Of'. At least, it was what all the other colleagues called it. Hermione did not mind. Beni was a valuable member among the Charms researchers and a fast friend.
Hermione prepared her notes before joining Beni. They had immersed themselves for weeks trying to solve the mystery behind the Imperio curse. Whilst others such as the fatal Avada Kedavra were recently developed and many knew of the source of the power, Imperio was an ancient spell woven from various forms of dark and elemental dark magic that required greater delving into. She and Beni had been careful not to be swallowed and controlled by the blackness of their studies. And even though it did not seem as important as neutralising the Killing Curse, it was as urgent. Despite the fall of Voldemort, there were Dark Wizards lurking everywhere. Not all the Death-Eaters had been captured and punished.
Whenever her train of thought reached this junction, she would inevitably think of him. Gods no, Snape was not a part of that terrible group anymore. He had not been since before her birth. Nonetheless, she did think of him.
She had always admired Snape for his intelligence even in her first year. Not that he would suspect, or believe it. He seldom believed any sane person would think well of him. She learnt that when she was forced to help him in her sixth and seventh year in a bid to defeat the Dark Lord, as Snape referred to him. She had learnt many things about him, the most significant and heart-wrenching being that forgiveness was something he would never apply to himself. He fought for redemption, but nothing he did brought reconciliation between him and his conscience. He loathed himself, utterly and deeply to the core, even Harry had acknowledged that after working with him. Harry, Ron and Hermione had tried to extend their friendship toward him, albeit cautiously. As expected, he savaged them with his tongue. They did not mention it to each other, but the Trio had come to a silent agreement that Snape was worthy of respect. He deserved more. They had witnessed too much of his activity to bind him to the stereotype of him when they were younger.
Two years after, Dumbledore glossed over the facts, but she gathered that he was still somewhat of a recluse, sarcastic, mean and. . . Snapish.
In the beginning, she wrote to him because she thought it was rude to write everyone else except him. Slowly, she realised she wanted to. She wanted him to know how her day was, her joy and frustration, her ups and downs. She wanted him to know there were people who cared for him, who thought of him. She wanted him to know that outside his sanctuary and prison that was Hogwarts, there were those friendly towards him.
However, there were reservations in her letters. Unlike others, she ended each of his with 'Sincerely', and not 'Yours sincerely'. She did not understand why. Was it because it sounded too intimate? She blushed. Hogwash.
She shook her head in melancholy. She was hurt by the absence of letters from him. She always wondered if he growled over her letter, and declared it to be a waste of his time reading it. She always tried to suppress the childish hope that he might be touched and write back.
'I should have known he's just a hard-hearted, no, the man doesn't have a heart, he's just a cold, bleak. . . and cold man.' Hermione grimaced as she heard herself talk. It did not even sound convincing to her ears. In fact, it sounded lame, like the grumbling of a grouchy four-year-old.
Damn the man for ruining her day and making her guilty at her uncharitable thoughts. Snape had troubles enough. More than enough. Why could he not find peace? The community would be a happier place if he accepted his past and moved on.
She stepped into Beni's office.
'Ah, Hermione! You. . . you see, don. . . don't you, that th. . . the comp. . . compounds mix themselves to p. . . produce the ast. . . astounding effects.' Beni dragged Hermione to his table.
'And a hello to you Beni.'
Beni was the kind of people who started a conversation by plunging into the middle, thinking they would be able to follow his line of mental activity, which was swift and erratic in itself. In addition, he was prone to stuttering when he became too agitated in his work. Fortunately, Hermione could cope with him.
They became involved in an eager discussion of the mechanics behind Imperio, striving to untangle every strand.
'It's evolved from cruder forms in the olden days. . .'
'There. . . There's the li. . . list we came up. . .'
'Showing the major steps leading to the present. . .'
'It requir. . . requires er. . . dee. . . deep concentration on. . . th. . . the part of the caster. . .'
'Not just brute strength and almighty power. . .'
'Manipulation. . .'
'Control. . .'
They spent the better part of the afternoon brushing up their report to be handed in to their Head of Department. When done, Hermione tossed her feather pen up to the ceiling in celebration. Their work was executed smoothly and they were immensely satisfied.
'D. . . Do you want to go have dinner?' Exhaustion seeped through Beni's voice.
'I'd rather go home.'
'I'm gl. . . glad. I could use a shut-eye myself. Collect your items and we'll head out.'
Hermione stretched herself and yawned. She walked drowsily out of the office, not noticing the two shadows around the corner.
Beak had returned for long while. Hermione stroked his feathers idly as she packed.
'Be a dear and fly home. I'll reach there soon.'
She took her briefcase and went back to Beni. She thought of the well- deserved cookies and cream ice-cream she would indulge in and the night movie 'The Fiddler on the Roof' she had rented from a nearby Muggle store. Her mood perked up and she began whistling to fill up the silence surrounding, her mind too drained to be aware of the implications. Opening the door, she said in a light-hearted manner, 'Come on Beni, I'm ready to leave.'
~***~
Author's Note:
Beni is derived from the latin word benigne: kindly, generously.
[Dear Professor Flitwick,
Thank you for the encouragement you have given me.
Professor Balabus and I stay keen and determined to find a solution to the many curses that are still in the midst of the wizarding world. We are, of course, only one of the several groups in the Ministry working towards our goal, but do not worry, we will all prevail!
Your suggestions have been most helpful, as usual. This letter comes together with the compliments of Professor Balabus. He's especially keen to meet you, to how did he put it? Yes, to share and pluck the nerve fibres in your much esteemed head. It does not make for a very picturesque metaphor, does it? I was suitably grossed out.
It is generous of you and Professors Dumbledore and McGonagall to invite me to visit Hogwarts for a week, now that the holidays have started. I have made the arrangements and look forward to the stay.
Yours sincerely,
Hermione Granger]
'All right, you impatient Beak. Come here and stay still.' Hermione beckoned the grey speckled owl and tied the letter to his leg, 'You will behave, won't you? I'll hate it if Professor Flitwick writes to say how greedy you were.'
The owl, whose name ranged from Beak, to Bouncing Bird, to Bobbing Boat, to any name that Hermione could think of that started with 'B', gave his owner a playful peck before flying away.
Hermione grinned. No matter how busy she was, she made it a point to write to her teachers and friends so that she could be in contact with them and know what they were up to. Her parents, she went for a weekend stay at their home whenever she could. It was fortunate her parents were understanding and trusted their daughter to know she took responsibility in the decisions she made.
She swept up the pile off papers on her table and filed them neatly. Beni Balabus was quite particular about tidiness. His working place was practically the epitome of 'Dirt Is Unheard Of'. At least, it was what all the other colleagues called it. Hermione did not mind. Beni was a valuable member among the Charms researchers and a fast friend.
Hermione prepared her notes before joining Beni. They had immersed themselves for weeks trying to solve the mystery behind the Imperio curse. Whilst others such as the fatal Avada Kedavra were recently developed and many knew of the source of the power, Imperio was an ancient spell woven from various forms of dark and elemental dark magic that required greater delving into. She and Beni had been careful not to be swallowed and controlled by the blackness of their studies. And even though it did not seem as important as neutralising the Killing Curse, it was as urgent. Despite the fall of Voldemort, there were Dark Wizards lurking everywhere. Not all the Death-Eaters had been captured and punished.
Whenever her train of thought reached this junction, she would inevitably think of him. Gods no, Snape was not a part of that terrible group anymore. He had not been since before her birth. Nonetheless, she did think of him.
She had always admired Snape for his intelligence even in her first year. Not that he would suspect, or believe it. He seldom believed any sane person would think well of him. She learnt that when she was forced to help him in her sixth and seventh year in a bid to defeat the Dark Lord, as Snape referred to him. She had learnt many things about him, the most significant and heart-wrenching being that forgiveness was something he would never apply to himself. He fought for redemption, but nothing he did brought reconciliation between him and his conscience. He loathed himself, utterly and deeply to the core, even Harry had acknowledged that after working with him. Harry, Ron and Hermione had tried to extend their friendship toward him, albeit cautiously. As expected, he savaged them with his tongue. They did not mention it to each other, but the Trio had come to a silent agreement that Snape was worthy of respect. He deserved more. They had witnessed too much of his activity to bind him to the stereotype of him when they were younger.
Two years after, Dumbledore glossed over the facts, but she gathered that he was still somewhat of a recluse, sarcastic, mean and. . . Snapish.
In the beginning, she wrote to him because she thought it was rude to write everyone else except him. Slowly, she realised she wanted to. She wanted him to know how her day was, her joy and frustration, her ups and downs. She wanted him to know there were people who cared for him, who thought of him. She wanted him to know that outside his sanctuary and prison that was Hogwarts, there were those friendly towards him.
However, there were reservations in her letters. Unlike others, she ended each of his with 'Sincerely', and not 'Yours sincerely'. She did not understand why. Was it because it sounded too intimate? She blushed. Hogwash.
She shook her head in melancholy. She was hurt by the absence of letters from him. She always wondered if he growled over her letter, and declared it to be a waste of his time reading it. She always tried to suppress the childish hope that he might be touched and write back.
'I should have known he's just a hard-hearted, no, the man doesn't have a heart, he's just a cold, bleak. . . and cold man.' Hermione grimaced as she heard herself talk. It did not even sound convincing to her ears. In fact, it sounded lame, like the grumbling of a grouchy four-year-old.
Damn the man for ruining her day and making her guilty at her uncharitable thoughts. Snape had troubles enough. More than enough. Why could he not find peace? The community would be a happier place if he accepted his past and moved on.
She stepped into Beni's office.
'Ah, Hermione! You. . . you see, don. . . don't you, that th. . . the comp. . . compounds mix themselves to p. . . produce the ast. . . astounding effects.' Beni dragged Hermione to his table.
'And a hello to you Beni.'
Beni was the kind of people who started a conversation by plunging into the middle, thinking they would be able to follow his line of mental activity, which was swift and erratic in itself. In addition, he was prone to stuttering when he became too agitated in his work. Fortunately, Hermione could cope with him.
They became involved in an eager discussion of the mechanics behind Imperio, striving to untangle every strand.
'It's evolved from cruder forms in the olden days. . .'
'There. . . There's the li. . . list we came up. . .'
'Showing the major steps leading to the present. . .'
'It requir. . . requires er. . . dee. . . deep concentration on. . . th. . . the part of the caster. . .'
'Not just brute strength and almighty power. . .'
'Manipulation. . .'
'Control. . .'
They spent the better part of the afternoon brushing up their report to be handed in to their Head of Department. When done, Hermione tossed her feather pen up to the ceiling in celebration. Their work was executed smoothly and they were immensely satisfied.
'D. . . Do you want to go have dinner?' Exhaustion seeped through Beni's voice.
'I'd rather go home.'
'I'm gl. . . glad. I could use a shut-eye myself. Collect your items and we'll head out.'
Hermione stretched herself and yawned. She walked drowsily out of the office, not noticing the two shadows around the corner.
Beak had returned for long while. Hermione stroked his feathers idly as she packed.
'Be a dear and fly home. I'll reach there soon.'
She took her briefcase and went back to Beni. She thought of the well- deserved cookies and cream ice-cream she would indulge in and the night movie 'The Fiddler on the Roof' she had rented from a nearby Muggle store. Her mood perked up and she began whistling to fill up the silence surrounding, her mind too drained to be aware of the implications. Opening the door, she said in a light-hearted manner, 'Come on Beni, I'm ready to leave.'
~***~
Author's Note:
Beni is derived from the latin word benigne: kindly, generously.