Chapter One "There is no man that hath power over the spirit to retain the spirit; neither hath he power in the day of death." Ecclesiastes 8:8

Dumbledore was frowning deeply as he made his way to the gardens on the Eastern side of the school grounds. He was dreading having to tell Hermione the news he had just received by Muggle phone. He had sent to the Gryffindor common room first only to be told she was in her garden patch. A first year had offered to fetch her to him but he decided the news he had for her may be best received in familiar surroundings and away from others.

He found Hermione sprinkling Osmocote on her pots of roses. "Hello, my dear," he said smiling at her healthy rose bushes.

"Hello, Professor Dumbledore," she replied with a smile. Seeing Dumbledore around the grounds was a regular and pleasant thing.

He examined the young woman before him. Her hair had darkened in a deep brown over the past few years and her features had fined down. She had started doing something to her hair to make it straight but it was still very thick and fell heavily around her face. She had certainly become one of the most attractive girls in her year, if not the school.

"Your roses are the healthiest in the school," Dumbledore commented kindly.

"Yes. It seems like I can only successfully grow roses and African violets," Hermione observed wryly. "I kill everything else off outright," she added and laughed.

A flicker of a frown crossed Dumbledore's face and his eyes gleamed with sudden interest. "So, you can grow exotics that even experienced gardeners often fail at but ordinary plants are beyond you?" He observed with a twinkle in his pale blue eyes.

Hermione shrugged. "I'd never thought about it like that but I guess so." She smiled in amusement at her own perversity.

Dumbledore sighed suddenly and looked serious. "Hermione, I didn't come down here to discuss your garden," he said gently. "I'm afraid I have some bad news."

Hermione glanced at him, puzzled and frowning. He took her hand and looking sympathetically into her suddenly frightened face, he said, "It's your parents Hermione. I'm afraid they were both in a car accident and died immediately. I'm so sorry."

Hermione looked at him blankly for so long he began to worry that she may have gone into deep shock. Finally she blinked and drew a deep breath. She opened her mouth to say something but nothing came out. She sat down abruptly on a stone bench nearby. After a long time she whispered, "when?"

"Only an hour ago, Hermione. There was nothing the medics could do," he replied and sat down next to her.

Hermione was never sure later how long she simply sat, zoned out and unable to think. Dumbledore stayed with her the whole time, as still as she. It was almost like a death watch but the death had already happened. Finally, Hermione looked up to see that night had just fallen.

"I'm sorry, Professor. I've kept you out here all this while," Hermione said, her voice sounding strange to herself as though it came from a distance or it was really someone else talking.

"That's quite alright, child. There's so little I can do to help you other than this," he gently patted her hand which she found strangely comforting. "I'll put you in a private room in my tower for the remainder of your last week here. You can get some peace there. You will also be relieved of your Head Girl duties."

"Thank goodness my exams are over," she muttered rather characteristically.

"Quite," Dumbledore replied. "That is one small blessing in all of this."

"Professor?" Hermione said shakily.

"Yes, child," Dumbledore replied benignly.

"Can I still lead the procession on graduation day with Justin?" Justin Finch-Fletchly was the Head Boy that year. "M-mum and D-dad would have. been. so proud. to see me." Then the tears came. Dumbledore gathered her against him with one arm and held her tight.

"Of course, you can. If you want to," Dumbledore murmured comfortingly and stared over her bent head with a sad and troubled expression as she cried.

To Dumbledore's surprise, she didn't cry very long or very hard. She pulled herself together with unnatural speed and wiped her face with the hanky Dumbledore handed her.

"I'd really like to go to bed now, Professor." She said finally, standing up. "I need to think through some of my plans for the future."

"Of course, child but don't worry too much. We'll make sure your plans are interrupted as little as possible. You have a brilliant future and everyone at Hogwarts wants to see you fulfill it," he said gravely.

She nodded and took Dumbledore's hand like a child when he stood up. They walked slowly to Dumbledore's office entry. "Chocolate cobblers," he said to the gargoyle that instantly leapt aside. Hermione managed a smile as she remembered the hard, chewy caramel sweet covered in chocolate that she'd eaten in the Muggle world as a child.

A second later they were outside Dumbledore's office but rather than go in, Dumbledore tapped a simple tattoo on the stone wall to their right with his wand and it disappeared. Behind it was a corridor with many doors along both sides. Dumbledore led her past the first few doors to a redwood door inlaid with pale pink and white marble. He opened it and gestured inside. "This is your room for the next week. To get back here just use the same password at the wall as for my office door and it will open for you. I will ask the house elves to bring you some dinner and send a message to your friends to let them know what has happened." Dumbledore said quietly. "Tomorrow we can begin to sort out arrangements for your future and education." He patted her shoulder gently.

"Thank you, Professor," Hermione said gratefully as she walked into her new temporary room. She wanted to say more but realized that Dumbledore would probably understand anything she didn't know how to say anyway.

When he smiled reassuringly at her and said, "good night, my dear" she knew he had. He handed her a small vial of sleeping potion and quietly closed the door as he left. He stood there for a moment staring sadly at the floor, contemplating one of the hardest things he had ever done as a Head Master and then slowly walked back to his office.

* * *

Dumbledore paced slowly in his office after sending off messages to the house elves, and to Ron and Harry - Hermione's best friends. He had alerted Padma Patil of the fact that she would be acting Head Girl except at the Graduation Ceremony for the next week. She had proved an excellent Vice Head Girl during the year and could easily fill the role for a week.

What to do about Hermione's future? Dumbledore would assign McGonagall to organizing her parent's funeral. Hermione's closest relatives were in Australia and could not get here in time to make arrangements if they were prepared to come at all. There was no hostility between Hermione's family members but her Uncle had emigrated and married an Australian nearly 20 years ago. They had kept in touch but were not close and 20 years was a long time.

He sent for MacGonagall and explained the situation. She was stunned to hear the news and genuinely distressed for Hermione. Hermione's academic confidence annoyed her at times but she cared about all the Gryffindors in her charge and she had known Hermione for nearly 7 years. "Oh Professor! How horrible! Poor Hermione. Will she be alright, do you think?" She fussed anxiously.

"Yes, yes Minerva. We will give her all the help we can. I need more details before I can start helping Hermione make plans but one way or another, I'll ensure she continues her education and reaches her goals," Dumbledore reassured her.

"Oh good," McGonagall said, obviously relieved. McGonagall went to make the necessary arrangements and Dumbledore began sending owls to gather the information he needed. One problem still plagued him. Who would act as her guardian until she turned 18? If she went to Australia to live with her Uncle until then, she would have to put University off for a full year. He was sure Hermione would not want to do that. In fact, he was sure she'd fight it tooth and nail. He was also sure her Uncle would not want to come back to Britain for the next three and a half months until she came of age either. It was not likely to be a practical option for him or his family. Dumbledore would have to appoint someone else.

He remembered something about a much older, married, Muggle sister living in Germany but the same problem arose there as with the Australian branch of her family. Hermione would have to give up University for a year or her sister would have to come to Britain. As her sister was married, Dumbledore doubted she'd be keen to leave her husband for that long to look after a sister she barely saw.

Dumbledore's mind drifted over the teaching staff. McGonagall, who was the logical choice was currently taking care of an ill sister and her family during each school holiday. Hooch had commitments to coach Quidditch camps during her time off. Flitwick would stand out dramatically in the Muggle world and was thus unsuitable. He wouldn't inflict Trelawny on Hermione for Hermione's own sake and Sprout couldn't afford to leave her exotic plants even for a week. Hagrid would be a good choice but Dumbledore had plans for him with Remus over the Summer months. Professor Vector would be traveling to America over the summer to lecture at Arithmancy summer schools there. That only left Professor Snape. Dumbledore frowned. Snape could do it but he wasn't sure it would be easy on either Hermione or Snape. They did not like each other at all and the situation would probably be unbearably awkward.

Then again, if Hermione was good with difficult plants then maybe she could become good at managing a difficult person like Snape. The analogy pleased Dumbledore and he smiled to himself. Dumbledore leaned back in his chair and gently pressed his fingertips together as he considered. They were both brilliant beyond the scope of the normal intellect. Unlike Snape, Hermione had the gift of friendship but they both could be anti-social and cranky. Both had strong wills and both had had difficult family backgrounds - a fact that Hermione had not revealed to anyone and Snape never discussed.

Dumbledore's mind drifted to his discussion with Hermione in her rose garden. She could only succeed with difficult plants, ordinary plants' needs eluded her. She would probably be the same with people. She certainly didn't understand her uncomplicated friends, much as she loved them nor did she understand their needs as they were so different from her own. Maybe she could understand a difficult person like Snape in which case, Snape could benefit from his time with her. Snape also needed a break from being at the mercy of the Death Eaters' beck and call. In the Muggle world, he'd have a perfect excuse to not answer any summons he received. Hermione would have a dutiful and careful guardian until she came of age who would interfere as little as he could in her life.

Dumbledore's mind was made up. Snape would be Hermione's guardian. Now to break the bad news to Snape. Dumbledore smiled.

* * *

Hermione looked around the room that Dumbledore had given her with un- seeing eyes. It was a beautiful room, even in her current state of numbness she could see that. She didn't care where she was as long as it was private.

She sat down heavily on the edge of the four poster bed. She knew she should bath and go to bed. Sleep was the best thing for her, she supposed but her head was still spinning. Not that there was one coherent thought amongst the ones that tumbled in her head. At least, not one that she could pin down. She felt dizzy.

Activity was what she needed, she finally decided. She got up and looked in the drawers of a beautifully ornate dresser nearby. Sure enough it was full of basic items like sleepwear and underwear in different sizes. As she suspected, this was a room that had been used for students in distress many times.

She pulled out a white cotton nightie and went in search of a bathroom. She found one just next door. It was even more magnificent than the Prefect's bathroom. It was done in white and grey marble with full sized statues of Greek gods around its perimeter and graceful columns surrounding a bath nearly as big as a swimming pool. Hermione pulled a face as she took all this in. She found it a bit pretentious but maybe it was just all in good fun. She shrugged and put a locking charm on the door, she had no idea who else might want to use this bathroom but she wanted it to herself for now.

She tried various taps and settled for a flow of pale pink water with a feint glitter through it. She expected the smell to be nauseatingly sweet but it was rather fresh with an understated pretty scent that was not at all sweet. She stripped off quickly and got in. The temperature was perfect. She could have lolled on the steps but decided to strike out and swim a few laps. It felt good to have her muscles stretched and her heart pick up speed. She kept going until she had to stop to get her breath and then began lapping again. As Hermione was pretty fit and had a good swimming technique albeit not a fast one, she managed to do laps for well over an hour before her body began to really protest.

She stayed in the water and washed her hair, adding more hot water. Then she soaped herself from head to toe with Raspberry bath gel.

For the second time that day, Hermione lost track of the time gently floating in the bath like a cork. It was therapeutic though. It was such a new environment that there were no triggers to set off her currently well buried emotions. No over concerned friends, no personal belongings and no reminders of home.

Finally, close to midnight she got out and dried herself off with a drying spell. She crept back to her room and used a hair straightening and drying spell - so much quicker than a blasted hair drier!

Once more, she found herself sitting on that huge bed. She found a meal that had been left for her by the House Elves. She lifted the silver cover and had a look. Steak, mashed potatoes, mushrooms and greenbeans cooked with bacon - her favourite meal. How did they know? She smiled but put the cover back. It felt disrespectful to even be thinking of her stomach so soon after her parent's death even if she had an appetite which she didn't, the exercise having taken care of that.

She glanced over to the sleeping potion. Slowly she got off the bed and picked it up. With a shrug she drank it quickly then climbed into the bed. She didn't remember anything after that.