A Rose By Any Other Name.
By Kes.
Disclaimer: As ever I own nada.
Looking back, Hermione was not sure if Snape had meant that she could rely on him, or her friends, or the Wizarding world in general…right now she found herself hoping that he meant she could rely on him.
One reason for relying on her usually surly professor was that he was here in Hogwarts, and the 'terrible twins' (name courtesy of Fred and George - ironically) were somewhere watching the Quidditch World Cup and had no idea about her home life.
Anyway, as much as she loved Harry and Ron- and she did - they were hardly the most compassionate people in the world. As soon as you mentioned the words 'Quidditch', 'sex', 'Veela', or somehow a strange chauvinistic combination of all three, getting their attention was as likely as finding a History of Magic lesson interesting.
She needed someone who was mature enough to help her, without mumbling incoherently, but not pity her, and hold her when she needed to be held - the thought of Snape cuddling her flitted through her mind and she found it rather funny.- without expecting sex afterwards.
She needed a man.
Hermione giggled alone in the dark infirmary. She was now back in bed in her temporary home, but apparently not alone: Madame Pomfrey poked her head out of her office. "Are you okay dear?"
"Are you alright dear?" she said again, as Hermione failed to respond the first time.
Hermione nodded, not trusting herself to answer verbally, giggles bubbling up inside her. She was becoming hysterical.
God, one little one-liner and I'm hysterical. It must be the stress or something...at least I hope so.
"Well, if you need anything, just let me know."
She barely suppressed her smile, let alone laugh. I can see it now...'Yes, Madam Pomfrey, can you look for a man for me please?' I doubt she'd be able to do that...although, she does spend a lot of time with Professor Dumbledore...eww, no Hermione, no! DO NOT go there!
Momentarily she wondered what the hell was wrong with her, she had just suffered from an incredible loss and was recovering from a traumatic experience and here she was laughing. She shook her head in disbelief. She really was hysterical.
With her silent laughter finally subsiding, Hermione tried to sleep, ignoring the words from inside her head of her father's voice: "You stupid insolent little pig ignorant bitch! You'll never amount to anything at that freakish school." It was just a memory, but she willed the voice to stop, finally crying herself silently to sleep.
Early the next morning, Hermione awoke to Madame Pomfrey's smile beaming down at her. "Come on now dear, time for breakfast!"
Hermione looked around expectantly. "Where is it?"
"In the Great Hall."
Her brow creased. "Ok..." Not sure she quite liked where this conversation was heading.
"Well, I think you're well enough to do to breakfast. I don't think you need Dobby to bring it to you. Come on now, we don't want to be late."
Hermione was suddenly incredibly nervous. She would have to face the teachers, all of them, at the same time, in a room that was usually occupied by the entire student body. Not only that, but she realised that Dumbledore must have given them some reason for her being here. Here being the Infirmary, she had not left it sinced she came, not including her little humiliating walk down to see Snape. Oh god oh god…Snape.
She would have to see him. Oh my god.
"Who else is going to be there?" Hermione asked as casually as she could, whilst she rose to her feet, looking for her wand to cast a cleansing spell and cringing at the crumpled pile of material that were in some previous existence known as 'Hermione's clothes'.
"I imagine Albus, Minerva - " Hermione crouched down to pick up her hair-tie and raised an eyebrow - she's using their first names. Isn't that supposed to be a stupid breach of some sort of ancient protocol?
"Oh, and of course Sybil - she comes down from her perch in the tower during the holidays - " Poppy smiled at Hermione. The entire staff knew that Hermione did not get on with Professor Trelawny - that's putting it mildly, the girl hates her! Poppy mused, and they liked her all the more for it.
"Then there's March, Remus - he's teaching DADA again this year, first one that's been here for two consecutive years - Severus will be there in body at least, he rarely speaks. He's not exactly a morning person."
The rest of Madame Pomfrey's commentary on the 'guest list' was lost on Hermione. She just focused on what had happened last night. Has he told anyone? He wouldn't do that, would he? He's not that bad... anyway, I hope not, I couldn't face that. It's going to be hard enough to look him in the eye as it is without the fact that everyone could know about my 'colourful' past hanging over my head.
As they arrived in the Great Hall, Hermione could feel every pair of eyes on her - except one, Sybil Trelawny - mentally assessing her physical and mental state. All wondering what the hell she was doing here.
Sybil was the first one to 'break the ice'. Looking up from her tea leaves from her now empty cup, she said in an overly-loud and incredulous voice: "What on earth is a student doing at school during the holidays?"
Apparently, she either had 'third-eye block', was incredibly stupid, or no one had had the foresight to tell her why Hermione was here. Possibly it was a combination of all three.
A hushed tense silence filled the Hall. No one wanted to inform Sybil in front of Hermione. Out of the corner of her eye, Hermione saw McGonagall giving Dumbledore a dirty look, whilst his face definitely had the quality about it of someone who had just remembered that they had forgotten to do something incredibly important.
Hermione blushed and her still-black-eye felt like it suddenly had its own pulse. She wanted so badly to just scream. She shuffled her feet a little, waiting for someone to come to her rescue. Apparently, so was everyone else.
Sybil, meanwhile, was completely oblivious. "Is she here on some sort of programme? I must say, Albus, you should tellme ofsuch things, then I would be able to prepare…" She muttered this more to herself than anyone, but still keeping an eye on Hermione, as though the young woman was about to pounce on her.
"Didn't you see my arrival in your crystal ball? Is my name too long to be spelled out in tea leaves?"
There was a stunned silence surrounding the room, not including the unflattering spluttering sound coming from Trelawney's direction. All but Snape looked shocked. Actually, he looked what could pass from him as 'happy' - In a sardonic way. The closer she looked at Professor McGonagall, the more convinced she was that her Head of House was suppressing a smirk.
The look of indignation on Sybil's face seemed to enrage Hermione to what even she could see was a preposterous level. However, she did not want to analyse her feelings at the present time, and so instead let her muse take her.
"Really, you are the supposed 'psychic' of the group, or perhaps your only talent is trying to kill off The Boy Who Lived…What's the matter? Didn't you get any premonitions about the murder of my mother?" Hermione screamed the last part of the sentence at a quivering Sybil. She knew logically that the woman could not have known –the old fraud that she was – but Hermione was incapable of stopping herself.
"There is one thing you could do for me. Will my father get off? Or will he get life? Or perhaps you can only predict the lottery numbers -" At this she was positive that she saw Dumbledore unwillingly snort tea out of his nose – who had ever heard of a rich witch?
Hermione's eyes were glowing angrily, all of it aimed irrationally at the one teacher who Hermione had little respect for. But the fire in her eyes was being quelled by the bristling tears threatening to overflow. She looked menacingly at Sybil, so much so that when Minerva glanced at Severus, it looked as though he was about to embrace the young girl from the pride that was - almost - evident on his features.
Meanwhile, Sybil was somewhat distraught. She stood up. "Well, I...I mean, I didn't know, I don't, I don't deserve this kind of treatment! I honestly didn't know what happ-"
" 'don't deserve this kind of treatment' ! Oh, and I did, did I? To be cursed from the day I was born to have some sort of manic freak that somehow passed the test as my father!"
She stopped abruptly. I'm becoming my father. She was shouting at an innocent person and part of her liked it. She was becoming exactly like her father and it scared her. She stopped talking and stood there like an idiot, cheeks blazing, eyes blurring and started to breathe slowly in, out, in, out. She closed her eyes and concentrated on her breathing. Tears fell down her face but she ignored them, her body started to shake but she ignored that too, hoping the others would. In what she thought was the distance she could hear Sybil still raving about the injustice of it all and she wished the stupid would just shut up!
"Come now dear, it's time for you to have some breakfast" Poppy said in a gentle voice, whilst simultaneously fixing everyone at the table - including Albus - with an icy glare.
Hermione self-consciously wiped her scarlet face with her sleeve and shuffled slowly forward. Unbeknownst to her, Poppy was behind her, looking pleadingly at Albus and Minerva who instantly started conversation with each other rather loudly.
Sybil quietly munched on her toast, feeling her colleagues eyes on her, even though they were not looking at her. She was most grateful to Remus when he struck up some irrelevant conversation with her about owls.
Soon after, the uncomfortable events from only a few moments before were conveniently forgotten, and people started to have genuine conversations. Hermione, however, stayed quiet.
Breakfast had soon ended, and people were beginning to drift away from the table - Sybil with Albus and Minerva, presumably to be informed of the latest 'events'.
Poppy turned to the self-conscious young witch beside her: "You know Hermione, if you want to talk to someone just ask -"
Hermione inhaled...
"- don't interrupt! None of us can really comprehend what happened to you - except perhaps Severus - "She said, mainly to herself. "Anyway, you really should talk to someone..."
"Oh, I already have, but thank you anyway." She replied, her voice barely above a whisper.
Looking at Madame Pomfrey, Hermione smiled nervously. She turned and headed in the direction of her haven - the library, whilst wondering why on earth Severus Snape would understand what had happened to her.