One morning a week later, Harry Potter and Ron Weasley woke up early to go to Quidditch practice, and as they passed the entrance hall on their way out to the pitch, they heard voices. Curious as to who else would be awake at this ungodly hour, they moved in for a closer look. Four people could be seen standing at the bottom of the stairs. The boys recognized two of them: Albus Dumbledore and Minerva McGonagall. They had never seen the other two before. One of them was a handsome, clean-shaven man probably about Dumbledore's age, but looked younger because he had no beard. The other looked to be a few years older than Minerva, with deeply tanned skin, dark hair in a braid that hung halfway down her back, and fierce green eyes. All four of them looked sad. Harry and Ron didn't know about the other two, but sadness was not an emotion often seen in Hogwarts's headmaster and deputy headmistress.
Dumbledore was the first to speak. "Armando, Indira, it's good to see you again, although I wish it was under different circumstances."
Harry put his hand on Ron's arm to get his attention, then whispered, "Ron - that's Armando Dippet!"
"How do you know?" Ron whispered back.
"I recognize him," Harry answered. He had seen Armando Dippet once before, five years ago, when Tom Riddle's diary provided him with a window to June thirteenth, 1945. Dippet had been much younger then, of course, but he was still recognizable.
"Who's the woman?" Ron asked.
Harry closed his eyes to bring back images of what he had seen that day. He remembered standing next to Tom Riddle as nothing more than a shadow, an observer of someone's memory. Four faculty members were walking up the stairs, holding a stretcher with a sheet over the body on it. He imagined the strange woman before them as fifty years younger, then looked at the faces of the people in his memory. The images matched. He opened his eyes and looked at Ron. "I don't know, but she used to be a teacher here."
Ron didn't ask how he knew.
Dippet spoke next. "It's good to see you, too, Albus, Minerva." Indira nodded in agreement.
"The obvious aside, how are you?" Minerva asked.
Dippet put his arm around Indira and said, "We're surviving. You?"
Dumbledore glanced up before answering. "It hasn't been easy, but I know we can make it through this."
Harry and Ron resumed their journey out to the pitch before they could be seen. "I think he knew we were there," Harry commented when they were a safe distance away.
Ron nodded. "Yeah, I think you're right." He paused, then scratched his forehead and said, "Did I miss something? What's the deal with Dumbledore and McGonagall?"
Harry had gotten over the initial shock of finding out that the headmaster and deputy headmistress were married, and in doing so, he'd forgotten that Ron didn't know. Apparently, Hermione hadn't told him. "You ready for this?" he said. "They're married."
Ron nearly dropped his broomstick. "Married?" he repeated. "But... when did you find out?"
"Last week, when Hermione posted the cast list," Harry answered. "You remember that Transfiguration classes were cancelled that day."
"Of course I remember."
"Anyway, Hermione suggested that I use the time to study my lines, and asked if she knew why Transfiguration was cancelled. I didn't really expect her to know, but... she did. She said that Dumbledore and McGonagall are married and that their son was killed in an earthquake in Japan two weeks ago."
"That's horrible," Ron said in a concerned tone of voice.
"Yeah, I know," Harry said with a nod. "But there's still something I don't understand."
"What?"
"Armando Dippet. What is he doing here?"
"Let's ask Hermione later," Ron suggested. "She seems to know a lot more than we do."
~~~
Ron and Harry didn't catch up to Hermione until ten minutes before Charms started. She was talking to Crabbe and Goyle, of all people, just outside the Great Hall. "I want you two to master the flame-freezing charm," she was telling them, "and Crabbe, make sure you know a good extinguishing spell. We've got fire as a prop in the scene where you kill kill Banquo, and I don't want anyone getting hurt."
Both of them nodded. "Okay," they chorused.
She smiled at them. "Good. I'll track down Terry, Draco, and Colin and tell them that they need to know how to handle the fire as well."
Crabbe and Goyle said good-bye and continued on their way to Charms. Hermione then noticed Harry and Ron. "Hi, you two," she said. "What's up?"
"Hey, Hermione, you'll never guess who's here," Ron said.
"Armando Dippet," said Harry.
Hermione's eyes lit up. "Armando Dippet?" she repeated. "Where? I need to talk to him. Is it just him, or is there a woman with him, too?"
Harry and Ron blinked, then looked at each other. Harry looked at Hermione and said, "Okay, you really know a lot more than we do."
"I'll explain, but it'll have to be as we walk, or we'll be late to class," she said.
The boys accepted, and they began walking. "How much do you know about Dippet and why he's here, anyway?" Harry inquired.
"Enough," was her answer. "The woman with him should be Indira Nay."
"Dumbledore called her Indira," Ron said. "It's not like that's a common name, so you're probably right."
Hermione continued. "Dumbledore and McGonagall are married, as are Dippet and Nay. Dippet and Nay's daughter is - well, was married to Dumbledore and McGonagall's son. They were killed in an earthquake two weeks ago. Anything else?"
Harry nodded. "Yeah. How do you know?"
"Professor Snape told me. He was good friends with Gabriel Dumbledore. I think they were in Julius Caesar together. Anyway, Dippet and Nay are Shakespeare fans, and Professor Dumbledore wanted us to save them seats for Macbeth. That's why I want to talk to Dippet; you know, just get to know him, tell him what's going on, things like that."
Ron and Harry looked at each other again. Ron spoke for both of them. "When did you become so tight with Snape?"
"When he became the assistant director," Hermione answered with a hint of irritation to her voice. "I really have no choice but to spend time with him. The man knows Shakespeare, and believe it or not, deep down inside, he's really not that bad."
She sped up her pace, and Harry and Ron fell back. Once they were certain she was out of earshot, Ron turned to Harry and said, "What's with her?"
"Probably stress," Harry guessed. "She hasn't backed off school at all; in fact, she's taken on more. Plus, there's the play. I know she likes it, but there's so much work involved that it's insane. I hope she doesn't burn out."
"Besides that, I mean," Ron said. "When did she start liking Snape so much?"
Harry thought for a moment, then said, "I think a more appropriate question would be to ask when he started liking her so much."
~~~
"Let me get this straight," Neville Longbottom said at rehearsal in the Potions classroom for Act One, Scene Five. He glanced at Ginny Weasley, then at Hermione and Snape, and then back at Ginny. "I have to kiss her?"
Hermione nodded. "Yes. Three times in this scene, actually: right after 'greater than both, by the all-hail hereafter', right after 'the future in the instant', and right after 'we will speak further.'" She glanced at Snape. "Were we going to close the scene with them kissing, too?"
"I was thinking more in terms of an embrace, but I suppose we could throw in another kiss as well," Snape said. "That's the good thing about Shakespeare. Everything is always so open-ended."
Neville and Ginny looked at each other. Both of them had uncomfortable expressions on their faces. They were friends, of course, but the idea of becoming friendlier wasn't too appealing. "I don't think Parvati will be too keen on that," Ginny said.
"Oh, she'll understand," said Hermione. "Besides, it's not like you mean it. It's just acting. You're not Neville and Ginny anymore. You're Macbeth and Lady Macbeth. It's called 'getting into character'. Don't worry; we won't make you kiss each other just yet, but be aware that you will have to eventually." She looked at Snape. "Should we run through the blocking again?"
"No, I think that's enough for tonight," said Snape. He turned his gaze to Neville and Ginny. "You are excused. Remember to study your lines."
Neville and Ginny said good-bye to the two of them and left the room. Once they were gone, Hermione let out a long sigh and leaned back in her chair. "How are you doing?" she asked the assistant director.
"All right," he answered. "You?"
"All right."
Snape stared at the door for a few moments, then looked at Hermione and said, "They're good."
She nodded. "They're very good. They surprised me. Before auditions, I had no idea either one of them could act."
"Yes, especially Longbottom," he agreed. He paused, then said, "I'm sorry for doubting your judgement about him."
"Professor, that's probably the fiftieth time you've apologized to me since hearing him read," Hermione said. "I understand. It's okay."
"I don't do that often, Miss Granger. Take advantage of it."
She felt a smile creep across her face. "You're a control freak, you know that?"
Snape blinked. "A what?"
"A control freak," she repeated. "You know, a person who-"
"I know what a control freak is," he interrupted, "and I am not a..." He stopped talking, thought for a moment, and said, "Actually, now that you mention it, I think I AM a control freak."
Suddenly, Hermione snapped her fingers, sat up, and said, "Intermission. I've got it. Our Act One will end after the text's Act Three, Scene Three, right after Banquo is murdered. That's a big turning point, and besides, we'll need time to make Draco look like a ghost. Or should we have two intermissions? It's a long play, and we're not cutting anything..." She looked him in the eyes. "What do you think?"
"I think one intermission will be enough, and that's a good place to put it," he replied. He peered closely at her. "You look exhausted."
"I feel exhausted," was her reply.
"What time did you go to bed last night?"
She snorted. "Last night? Try this morning."
"All right, what time did you go to bed this morning?"
"About two thirty."
"And when did you get up?"
"Six," she answered. "Between schoolwork, the play, and studying... it's hard, but I love it. I wouldn't have it any other way."
"You say that now, but soon enough, it'll catch up with you," Snape said. "I would hate to see you burn out."
Hermione smiled. "Well, you don't look so energetic yourself, Professor Snape." She thought for a moment, then spoke one of Lady Macbeth's lines. "You lack the season of all natures, sleep."
"Come, we'll to sleep," he replied, smiling a little himself. "My strange and self-abuse is the initiate fear that wants hard use. We are yet but young in deed."
"You're good."
"You're not so bad yourself."
A knock on the door to his classroom interrupted their conversation. Snape looked toward the door. "Come in," he called.
The door opened, and in stepped Albus Dumbledore, Minerva McGonagall, and two people Hermione didn't recognize, a man and a woman. "Good evening, Severus," Dumbledore said. He then noticed Hermione. "Miss Granger."
"Hi, Professors," Hermione said. She then realized that being alone in a classroom with Snape probably didn't look too good to the ones that had just entered, and she had to fight to keep her blood from rushing to her cheeks. The fight became even more difficult when she made eye contact with the strange woman and noticed that she was giving her a suspicious look. Her gaze quickly became too intense for Hermione to stand, and she looked away.
"Finishing rehearsal, Miss Granger?" Minerva inquired.
Hermione nodded. "Yes. I was just leaving." To emphasize her statement, she picked up her bookbag and one of the three scripts lying on the table between her and Snape. She then noticed that the woman was now giving Snape the same look she had given her, and couldn't help but wonder what her problem was.
"Convenient that we should run into you now," Dumbledore said. "Armando, Indira, this is Hermione Granger, the young woman I was telling you about, the one who's directing the play. Miss Granger, it is my pleasure to introduce to you Armando Dippet and Indira Nay."
"Pleased to meet you," Hermione said, shaking first Dippet's hand, then Indira's. Dippet seemed friendly enough, but there was something about Indira that creeped her out. Her handshake was warm and strong, but the look in her deep green eyes left chills running up and down her spine. She'd known beforehand that Indira was the former head of Slytherin house, but she never imagined that she would give her that kind of feeling. It wasn't evil, it was just... she almost wanted to say intimidating.
"So, you like Shakespeare?" Indira asked. Her tone of voice bordered on challenging.
"Yes, very much," Hermione answered.
"Did Professor Snape tell you that he was in a production of Julius Caesar during his time as a student?"
"Yes," Snape said.
Indira looked at Snape and arched one of her thin, dark eyebrows. "I asked her, Severus."
Snape fought back a grin. She hadn't changed a bit.
"Yes, ma'am, he has told me," Hermione said. "He was Cassius, and I hear that he performed very well."
Indira nodded. "Yes, he did. He was excellent."
"Thank you, Professor Nay," Snape said.
"I'm not your teacher anymore, Severus," Indira returned. "Indira will do."
Dumbledore whispered something to Minerva, and she nodded. She then made eye contact with Dippet. He shrugged. Minerva glanced at Hermione, blinked, and then turned her gaze back to Dippet. Dippet let out a soft sigh and placed his hand on Indira's arm. She backed off after that, but not before shooting both Hermione and Snape looks of warning.
Hermione suddenly felt about six inches tall. "Excuse me," she said, and left the room.
Once she was gone, all eyes went to Indira. "With all due respect, Prof - Indira, was that really necessary?" Snape asked.
"He's right," Dippet said. "That girl isn't used to you, Indira."
Instead of replying to her husband's comment, Indira looked at Minerva, who had the slightest look of discomfort about her face. "Everything all right, Minerva?"
"I'm fine," Minerva said. "I was just thinking, that's all."
Indira gazed at her out of the corner of her eye for a few moments, and then nodded. "Indeed."
~~~
Twenty minutes later, in the Gryffindor common room, Hermione got an idea for one of the scenes in Act Four, so she grabbed her script and began flipping through it to get to the desired point. As she turned the pages, though, she realized that it wasn't her script; it was Snape's. In her haste to get out of the room and away from the piercing, suspicious gaze of Indira Nay, she must have grabbed the wrong script by mistake. She knew she should get it back to Snape, but the thought of being in the same room as Indira again was enough to make her stay put.
Finally, Hermione reasoned that Dumbledore and the others had probably left by this point and it would be safe to return. The downside, though, was that Snape had probably already left, too, and if he had, it would be nearly impossible to track him down without the aid of another faculty member. Desire to get her own script took precedence over her worries, though, and before she knew it, she was walking through the halls toward the Potions classroom.
She hadn't left a moment too soon. She saw Snape walking in the direction of the Slytherin common room, and called out to him. He stopped and turned around. "I have your script," she said as she walked toward him. "I accidently grabbed it instead of mine."
"Thank you," he said as she handed him his script.
"Is your classroom open? I really need my script."
Snape sighed and reached into his pocket. "I can't believe I'm doing this," he said, mostly to himself. He pulled his hand out. He was holding a key. "Can you get this back to me first thing in the morning?"
"Of course," she said, both shocked and honored that he was entrusting her with the key to his classroom. "Thank you."
"I trust you, Miss Granger."
"I won't let you down, Professor Snape."
"I know. Good night."
Neither one of them moved. Snape noticed a look of discouragement on her face, and he felt a pang of concern. That was not an expression he usually saw on her. "Is something bothering you?" he asked.
Hermione sighed, then frowned. "It's stupid, really," she said. "It's... it's Indira Nay. I thought she would be... well, nicer."
Snape had a feeling that it had something to do with Indira. "She's not a bad person," he assured her. "She just takes some getting used to. She's... well, this isn't exactly the best way to put it, but she can be thought of as an acquired taste."
She almost said that that reminded her of someone else she knew, meaning him, but thought better of it and kept silent.
~~~
Snape wasn't the only one bothered about Indira's treatment of Hermione. As they walked over to Hogsmeade to check into an inn, Armando Dippet finally worked up enough courage to ask his wife why she acted the way she did. "Indira, may I ask you a question?"
She glanced at him out of the corner of her eye and nodded. "I assume that wasn't the question."
He felt a smile playing at the corners of his mouth. "No, it wasn't," he confirmed. "Don't you think you went a little overboard back there?"
"With the girl?" Indira asked. "I know I did."
Dippet felt confused. "But if you did, then why did you do it? You know she's not used to you and your methods."
"I didn't say I did it on purpose, but I can pick up on details that other people can't," she said. "Hermione is a Gryffindor. Severus is a Slytherin. I haven't seen a Gryffindor and a Slytherin so friendly since Severus and Gabriel." Saying her son-in-law's name was painful for her, and it showed in her tone when she reached that point.
He reached for her hand and gripped it tightly. A small smile flickered on her lips for an instant, and she squeezed his hand back. "History is repeating itself, Armando," Indira said.
"What are you saying?" Dippet asked. "That they're just like Severus and Gabriel?"
"No," she said. "They're just like Albus and Minerva."
Dumbledore was the first to speak. "Armando, Indira, it's good to see you again, although I wish it was under different circumstances."
Harry put his hand on Ron's arm to get his attention, then whispered, "Ron - that's Armando Dippet!"
"How do you know?" Ron whispered back.
"I recognize him," Harry answered. He had seen Armando Dippet once before, five years ago, when Tom Riddle's diary provided him with a window to June thirteenth, 1945. Dippet had been much younger then, of course, but he was still recognizable.
"Who's the woman?" Ron asked.
Harry closed his eyes to bring back images of what he had seen that day. He remembered standing next to Tom Riddle as nothing more than a shadow, an observer of someone's memory. Four faculty members were walking up the stairs, holding a stretcher with a sheet over the body on it. He imagined the strange woman before them as fifty years younger, then looked at the faces of the people in his memory. The images matched. He opened his eyes and looked at Ron. "I don't know, but she used to be a teacher here."
Ron didn't ask how he knew.
Dippet spoke next. "It's good to see you, too, Albus, Minerva." Indira nodded in agreement.
"The obvious aside, how are you?" Minerva asked.
Dippet put his arm around Indira and said, "We're surviving. You?"
Dumbledore glanced up before answering. "It hasn't been easy, but I know we can make it through this."
Harry and Ron resumed their journey out to the pitch before they could be seen. "I think he knew we were there," Harry commented when they were a safe distance away.
Ron nodded. "Yeah, I think you're right." He paused, then scratched his forehead and said, "Did I miss something? What's the deal with Dumbledore and McGonagall?"
Harry had gotten over the initial shock of finding out that the headmaster and deputy headmistress were married, and in doing so, he'd forgotten that Ron didn't know. Apparently, Hermione hadn't told him. "You ready for this?" he said. "They're married."
Ron nearly dropped his broomstick. "Married?" he repeated. "But... when did you find out?"
"Last week, when Hermione posted the cast list," Harry answered. "You remember that Transfiguration classes were cancelled that day."
"Of course I remember."
"Anyway, Hermione suggested that I use the time to study my lines, and asked if she knew why Transfiguration was cancelled. I didn't really expect her to know, but... she did. She said that Dumbledore and McGonagall are married and that their son was killed in an earthquake in Japan two weeks ago."
"That's horrible," Ron said in a concerned tone of voice.
"Yeah, I know," Harry said with a nod. "But there's still something I don't understand."
"What?"
"Armando Dippet. What is he doing here?"
"Let's ask Hermione later," Ron suggested. "She seems to know a lot more than we do."
~~~
Ron and Harry didn't catch up to Hermione until ten minutes before Charms started. She was talking to Crabbe and Goyle, of all people, just outside the Great Hall. "I want you two to master the flame-freezing charm," she was telling them, "and Crabbe, make sure you know a good extinguishing spell. We've got fire as a prop in the scene where you kill kill Banquo, and I don't want anyone getting hurt."
Both of them nodded. "Okay," they chorused.
She smiled at them. "Good. I'll track down Terry, Draco, and Colin and tell them that they need to know how to handle the fire as well."
Crabbe and Goyle said good-bye and continued on their way to Charms. Hermione then noticed Harry and Ron. "Hi, you two," she said. "What's up?"
"Hey, Hermione, you'll never guess who's here," Ron said.
"Armando Dippet," said Harry.
Hermione's eyes lit up. "Armando Dippet?" she repeated. "Where? I need to talk to him. Is it just him, or is there a woman with him, too?"
Harry and Ron blinked, then looked at each other. Harry looked at Hermione and said, "Okay, you really know a lot more than we do."
"I'll explain, but it'll have to be as we walk, or we'll be late to class," she said.
The boys accepted, and they began walking. "How much do you know about Dippet and why he's here, anyway?" Harry inquired.
"Enough," was her answer. "The woman with him should be Indira Nay."
"Dumbledore called her Indira," Ron said. "It's not like that's a common name, so you're probably right."
Hermione continued. "Dumbledore and McGonagall are married, as are Dippet and Nay. Dippet and Nay's daughter is - well, was married to Dumbledore and McGonagall's son. They were killed in an earthquake two weeks ago. Anything else?"
Harry nodded. "Yeah. How do you know?"
"Professor Snape told me. He was good friends with Gabriel Dumbledore. I think they were in Julius Caesar together. Anyway, Dippet and Nay are Shakespeare fans, and Professor Dumbledore wanted us to save them seats for Macbeth. That's why I want to talk to Dippet; you know, just get to know him, tell him what's going on, things like that."
Ron and Harry looked at each other again. Ron spoke for both of them. "When did you become so tight with Snape?"
"When he became the assistant director," Hermione answered with a hint of irritation to her voice. "I really have no choice but to spend time with him. The man knows Shakespeare, and believe it or not, deep down inside, he's really not that bad."
She sped up her pace, and Harry and Ron fell back. Once they were certain she was out of earshot, Ron turned to Harry and said, "What's with her?"
"Probably stress," Harry guessed. "She hasn't backed off school at all; in fact, she's taken on more. Plus, there's the play. I know she likes it, but there's so much work involved that it's insane. I hope she doesn't burn out."
"Besides that, I mean," Ron said. "When did she start liking Snape so much?"
Harry thought for a moment, then said, "I think a more appropriate question would be to ask when he started liking her so much."
~~~
"Let me get this straight," Neville Longbottom said at rehearsal in the Potions classroom for Act One, Scene Five. He glanced at Ginny Weasley, then at Hermione and Snape, and then back at Ginny. "I have to kiss her?"
Hermione nodded. "Yes. Three times in this scene, actually: right after 'greater than both, by the all-hail hereafter', right after 'the future in the instant', and right after 'we will speak further.'" She glanced at Snape. "Were we going to close the scene with them kissing, too?"
"I was thinking more in terms of an embrace, but I suppose we could throw in another kiss as well," Snape said. "That's the good thing about Shakespeare. Everything is always so open-ended."
Neville and Ginny looked at each other. Both of them had uncomfortable expressions on their faces. They were friends, of course, but the idea of becoming friendlier wasn't too appealing. "I don't think Parvati will be too keen on that," Ginny said.
"Oh, she'll understand," said Hermione. "Besides, it's not like you mean it. It's just acting. You're not Neville and Ginny anymore. You're Macbeth and Lady Macbeth. It's called 'getting into character'. Don't worry; we won't make you kiss each other just yet, but be aware that you will have to eventually." She looked at Snape. "Should we run through the blocking again?"
"No, I think that's enough for tonight," said Snape. He turned his gaze to Neville and Ginny. "You are excused. Remember to study your lines."
Neville and Ginny said good-bye to the two of them and left the room. Once they were gone, Hermione let out a long sigh and leaned back in her chair. "How are you doing?" she asked the assistant director.
"All right," he answered. "You?"
"All right."
Snape stared at the door for a few moments, then looked at Hermione and said, "They're good."
She nodded. "They're very good. They surprised me. Before auditions, I had no idea either one of them could act."
"Yes, especially Longbottom," he agreed. He paused, then said, "I'm sorry for doubting your judgement about him."
"Professor, that's probably the fiftieth time you've apologized to me since hearing him read," Hermione said. "I understand. It's okay."
"I don't do that often, Miss Granger. Take advantage of it."
She felt a smile creep across her face. "You're a control freak, you know that?"
Snape blinked. "A what?"
"A control freak," she repeated. "You know, a person who-"
"I know what a control freak is," he interrupted, "and I am not a..." He stopped talking, thought for a moment, and said, "Actually, now that you mention it, I think I AM a control freak."
Suddenly, Hermione snapped her fingers, sat up, and said, "Intermission. I've got it. Our Act One will end after the text's Act Three, Scene Three, right after Banquo is murdered. That's a big turning point, and besides, we'll need time to make Draco look like a ghost. Or should we have two intermissions? It's a long play, and we're not cutting anything..." She looked him in the eyes. "What do you think?"
"I think one intermission will be enough, and that's a good place to put it," he replied. He peered closely at her. "You look exhausted."
"I feel exhausted," was her reply.
"What time did you go to bed last night?"
She snorted. "Last night? Try this morning."
"All right, what time did you go to bed this morning?"
"About two thirty."
"And when did you get up?"
"Six," she answered. "Between schoolwork, the play, and studying... it's hard, but I love it. I wouldn't have it any other way."
"You say that now, but soon enough, it'll catch up with you," Snape said. "I would hate to see you burn out."
Hermione smiled. "Well, you don't look so energetic yourself, Professor Snape." She thought for a moment, then spoke one of Lady Macbeth's lines. "You lack the season of all natures, sleep."
"Come, we'll to sleep," he replied, smiling a little himself. "My strange and self-abuse is the initiate fear that wants hard use. We are yet but young in deed."
"You're good."
"You're not so bad yourself."
A knock on the door to his classroom interrupted their conversation. Snape looked toward the door. "Come in," he called.
The door opened, and in stepped Albus Dumbledore, Minerva McGonagall, and two people Hermione didn't recognize, a man and a woman. "Good evening, Severus," Dumbledore said. He then noticed Hermione. "Miss Granger."
"Hi, Professors," Hermione said. She then realized that being alone in a classroom with Snape probably didn't look too good to the ones that had just entered, and she had to fight to keep her blood from rushing to her cheeks. The fight became even more difficult when she made eye contact with the strange woman and noticed that she was giving her a suspicious look. Her gaze quickly became too intense for Hermione to stand, and she looked away.
"Finishing rehearsal, Miss Granger?" Minerva inquired.
Hermione nodded. "Yes. I was just leaving." To emphasize her statement, she picked up her bookbag and one of the three scripts lying on the table between her and Snape. She then noticed that the woman was now giving Snape the same look she had given her, and couldn't help but wonder what her problem was.
"Convenient that we should run into you now," Dumbledore said. "Armando, Indira, this is Hermione Granger, the young woman I was telling you about, the one who's directing the play. Miss Granger, it is my pleasure to introduce to you Armando Dippet and Indira Nay."
"Pleased to meet you," Hermione said, shaking first Dippet's hand, then Indira's. Dippet seemed friendly enough, but there was something about Indira that creeped her out. Her handshake was warm and strong, but the look in her deep green eyes left chills running up and down her spine. She'd known beforehand that Indira was the former head of Slytherin house, but she never imagined that she would give her that kind of feeling. It wasn't evil, it was just... she almost wanted to say intimidating.
"So, you like Shakespeare?" Indira asked. Her tone of voice bordered on challenging.
"Yes, very much," Hermione answered.
"Did Professor Snape tell you that he was in a production of Julius Caesar during his time as a student?"
"Yes," Snape said.
Indira looked at Snape and arched one of her thin, dark eyebrows. "I asked her, Severus."
Snape fought back a grin. She hadn't changed a bit.
"Yes, ma'am, he has told me," Hermione said. "He was Cassius, and I hear that he performed very well."
Indira nodded. "Yes, he did. He was excellent."
"Thank you, Professor Nay," Snape said.
"I'm not your teacher anymore, Severus," Indira returned. "Indira will do."
Dumbledore whispered something to Minerva, and she nodded. She then made eye contact with Dippet. He shrugged. Minerva glanced at Hermione, blinked, and then turned her gaze back to Dippet. Dippet let out a soft sigh and placed his hand on Indira's arm. She backed off after that, but not before shooting both Hermione and Snape looks of warning.
Hermione suddenly felt about six inches tall. "Excuse me," she said, and left the room.
Once she was gone, all eyes went to Indira. "With all due respect, Prof - Indira, was that really necessary?" Snape asked.
"He's right," Dippet said. "That girl isn't used to you, Indira."
Instead of replying to her husband's comment, Indira looked at Minerva, who had the slightest look of discomfort about her face. "Everything all right, Minerva?"
"I'm fine," Minerva said. "I was just thinking, that's all."
Indira gazed at her out of the corner of her eye for a few moments, and then nodded. "Indeed."
~~~
Twenty minutes later, in the Gryffindor common room, Hermione got an idea for one of the scenes in Act Four, so she grabbed her script and began flipping through it to get to the desired point. As she turned the pages, though, she realized that it wasn't her script; it was Snape's. In her haste to get out of the room and away from the piercing, suspicious gaze of Indira Nay, she must have grabbed the wrong script by mistake. She knew she should get it back to Snape, but the thought of being in the same room as Indira again was enough to make her stay put.
Finally, Hermione reasoned that Dumbledore and the others had probably left by this point and it would be safe to return. The downside, though, was that Snape had probably already left, too, and if he had, it would be nearly impossible to track him down without the aid of another faculty member. Desire to get her own script took precedence over her worries, though, and before she knew it, she was walking through the halls toward the Potions classroom.
She hadn't left a moment too soon. She saw Snape walking in the direction of the Slytherin common room, and called out to him. He stopped and turned around. "I have your script," she said as she walked toward him. "I accidently grabbed it instead of mine."
"Thank you," he said as she handed him his script.
"Is your classroom open? I really need my script."
Snape sighed and reached into his pocket. "I can't believe I'm doing this," he said, mostly to himself. He pulled his hand out. He was holding a key. "Can you get this back to me first thing in the morning?"
"Of course," she said, both shocked and honored that he was entrusting her with the key to his classroom. "Thank you."
"I trust you, Miss Granger."
"I won't let you down, Professor Snape."
"I know. Good night."
Neither one of them moved. Snape noticed a look of discouragement on her face, and he felt a pang of concern. That was not an expression he usually saw on her. "Is something bothering you?" he asked.
Hermione sighed, then frowned. "It's stupid, really," she said. "It's... it's Indira Nay. I thought she would be... well, nicer."
Snape had a feeling that it had something to do with Indira. "She's not a bad person," he assured her. "She just takes some getting used to. She's... well, this isn't exactly the best way to put it, but she can be thought of as an acquired taste."
She almost said that that reminded her of someone else she knew, meaning him, but thought better of it and kept silent.
~~~
Snape wasn't the only one bothered about Indira's treatment of Hermione. As they walked over to Hogsmeade to check into an inn, Armando Dippet finally worked up enough courage to ask his wife why she acted the way she did. "Indira, may I ask you a question?"
She glanced at him out of the corner of her eye and nodded. "I assume that wasn't the question."
He felt a smile playing at the corners of his mouth. "No, it wasn't," he confirmed. "Don't you think you went a little overboard back there?"
"With the girl?" Indira asked. "I know I did."
Dippet felt confused. "But if you did, then why did you do it? You know she's not used to you and your methods."
"I didn't say I did it on purpose, but I can pick up on details that other people can't," she said. "Hermione is a Gryffindor. Severus is a Slytherin. I haven't seen a Gryffindor and a Slytherin so friendly since Severus and Gabriel." Saying her son-in-law's name was painful for her, and it showed in her tone when she reached that point.
He reached for her hand and gripped it tightly. A small smile flickered on her lips for an instant, and she squeezed his hand back. "History is repeating itself, Armando," Indira said.
"What are you saying?" Dippet asked. "That they're just like Severus and Gabriel?"
"No," she said. "They're just like Albus and Minerva."