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HER FIRST NAME
Sequel to Essay Standards
: Prof Hermione Snape
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AUTHOR'S NOTE: Another one-shot. About just another product of an idle mind but has romance. Sequel to Essay Standards. But you can read this one independently. Forgive the slight OOC-ness.
Don't forget to review this one, though!
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Severus leaned back in his high-backed chair and closed his eyes. Finally, Dumbledore had left the staff-room. It was really becoming rather weary with all his inane chattering about Merlin-knows-what.
However, his comfort was short-lived as Minerva and Esmeralda entered the staff-room; the gossip-queens of Hogwarts, he thought wryly.
They didn't notice him as he was sitting in a dark corner, away from the fire. However, it was winter.
"Hermione is getting married. I can't believe that the dear child has so grown up!" said Minerva.
Severus searched his memory for the name "Hermione".
Who was she? He recalled the names of Minerva's granddaughters. Helena, Lisa, Vera, Calpurnia and Portia. Was it one of Dumbledore's great-granddaughters? Rhea, Daphne, Aphrodite, Leda, Titia, Angel and Fiona. No, none related to them then.
Hermione… he thought hard, but he couldn't recall any woman of his acquaintance who claimed that name.
"I had thought that she would never beat Severus' potions marks, though. But I suppose even that odious man was gracious enough to acknowledge her capability!"
And then it came to him… Hermione. It was Miss Granger's first name. Hermione. He had read it once in the Daily Prophet and that was about seven years ago. Hermione Granger. You couldn't blame him for forgetting it. After reading Shakespeare, the name "Hermione" had meant beauty to him. He had imagined her to be a golden-haired, blue-eyed goddess. And Miss Granger was… well, she was Miss Granger. Brown, common eyes, brown rat's nest that she liked to call her hair and a commonplace face. Nothing like "Hermione" – Helen's daughter according to the myths, daughter of the most beautiful woman in ancient Greece.
Though such thoughts passed through his mind, his ears were registering the conversation of the women.
"Do you know who he is? He isn't a Muggle, is he? It feels so wrong… if Hermione was to marry a Muggle, you know!"
"They are having a Muggle ceremony. But a lot of these young wizards and witches have Muggle ceremonies."
"I do hope she is not marrying a Muggle. What if their child isn't of our kind?"
Marrying a Muggle… just the kind of thing Miss Granger would do. Marrying for love, no doubt. He suppressed the urge to snort. He didn't want to reveal his presence as an eavesdropper.
"I must find out about it," said Esmeralda. "Imagine if Hermione is tied down to a Muggle."
"There won't be anything you'll be able to do about it, my dear."
"She is coming here this weekend with Harry, isn't she? I'll find out then."
Minerva sighed. "I think your fears will prove right. Follies of young…"
Though he would never admit it, he felt that Esmeralda was right. Hermione tied down to a commoner! The horrors! Hermione, the queen, the beautiful woman, the goddess he had connected with that name… it was sacrilege to even imagine her with a commonplace Muggle. Miss Granger had a duty to do by her name. If she was Christianized "Hermione", then she had to live up to that name. She ought not to give herself to a commoner. Hermione was associated with Neoptolemus, Orestes, King Leontes… no common Tom, Dick or Harry. At least it wasn't Harry.
He hadn't been generous to her so that she would finally sully the name. He had helped her reach the highest position in Potions so that she would be a perfect witch. With a perfectly magical family.
If Miss Granger was coming down to Hogwarts this weekend, he would poke in a few affairs himself. He wouldn't just stand and tolerate Miss Granger wronging "Hermione". He had been idle, bored. Here was a job. Reminded him of his pseudo-Death-Eater days…
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Well, she was marrying a Muggle. A Muggle who went by the name of Tom Kirby. Tom! How obnoxious! How like Miss Granger! How unlike Hermione!
What was worse, she had brought that Muggle with her. And the mad old man had allowed it!
He wondered what he ought to do now. Esmeralda had backed out seeing how happy Miss Granger seemed. Overly so, in his opinion. Quite annoying. And she still wore her hair like a rat's nest. Merlin! How in the Hades' name did this girl come to be known as "Hermione"? The injustices of fate!
"Professor Snape."
He just scowled at her. It appalled him when she continued, undaunted, to talk about his lately published article on use of Sleeping Draught in Poisons.
"Miss Granger," he snapped, "please refrain from…"
But the old coot cut him short. The nerve of that old man!
"Severus, I think you are now entitled to call Hermione by her given name."
The chit was smiling at him! Her cheek! He was going to murder Gryffindors' house-points! He regretted the day he had given her an "O"! All the days, in fact!
"I would," he said coldly, "if Miss Granger deigned to live up to her name."
He inwardly congratulated himself as a look of confusion passed Miss Granger's face. Good! That would set her thinking – or so he hoped.
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He was really in a very, very bad mood. He hadn't been able to think of a way to dissuade the girl from marrying the Muggle. Heck! He hadn't talked to her after that. And she was to leave in an hour. And marry a common Muggle. And soil the name of "Hermione".
He was walking aimlessly around the Hogwarts grounds, thinking about Hermione… and how Miss Granger was going to soil Hermione forever.
Just as he rounded a corner, he heard loud voices. Loud female voices. No, it was a loud female voice. And it sounded like…
Hermione!
There was no other word for her. She retained her rat's nest, but her commonplace brown eyes were alight with the passion of her anger. Her lips moving furiously. Her cheeks tinged with colour – just the perfect shade. Her demeanour, intimidating, yet so… like Hermione, a goddess as he had thought of.
And her words… well, that cheered him up the most.
"YOU SAID THAT IT DIDN'T MATTER, TOM! YOU SAID THAT YOU WERE OKAY WITH IT! YOU NEVER EVER CALLED ME WEIRD! AND NOW! HOW COULD YOU DO THIS TO ME? KNOW WHAT? I DON'T CARE ABOUT YOU ANYMORE. I WILL NOT STAND HERE AND LISTEN TO YOU INSULT EVERYBODY I KNOW. LEAST OF ALL PROFESSOR SNAPE! YOU DON'T KNOW HIM! YOU HAVE GOT NO RIGHT TO JUDGE HIM!"
And with that, she stalked off, so elegant and graceful even in her fury – especially in her fury.
His mood suddenly brighter, he slipped out of the shadows and headed down towards his dungeons.
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"I am sorry that your engagement broke off, Hermione."
It didn't give her a heart-attack, but it was close. She went white then red.
"Don't sneak on me! And I didn't know you were eavesdropping."
"I wasn't. Your voice was loud enough for me to hear what you said without trying to."
She blushed. "I suppose we won't have worked out, anyway. The… difference… you know."
And then she wondered why she was discussing her love-life with her Potions Master! Well, it was a peace-offering in a weird kind of way. He had called her by her first name.
Then all that followed was silence. She turned to the casement and continued staring out at the scenery and he stared alternately at the floor and at her.
"I suppose I must thank-you for defending my name since the beginning of war – and throughout."
She was surprised. "You knew?"
"As I said, your voice is loud enough to be carried down to me and to the werewolf, for that matter, who always informs me. Moreover, I trust that you haven't been ungrateful to me since your last year."
"Remus tells you, too? But why would he?"
Severus shrugged nonchalantly. "Analysing a werewolf's brain is not my expertise, I am afraid."
There was an awkward silence after that.
"So, Professor," said Hermione, smiling slightly, "any more students up to my standard?"
"Sometimes," he began, in a long-suffering voice, "I doubt my sanity at being so generous to you."
"You weren't generous," she protested, "you gave me what I deserved – had always deserved."
"You have a high opinion of your capabilities, Miss Granger."
"I should. I am the legendary Hermione. "
"So you are," he said softly.
"It's late. I have to leave for Barcelona tomorrow."
"And my first class tomorrow is seventh-year Slytherins and Gryffindors. At least I am not… obliged to give out A's now."
She scowled at him. "Obliged!"
"Wrong choice of words, I am afraid. Pardon me. I meant compelled. Buenas noches, mi preciosa Hermione."
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Preciosa…
She quickly wrote down the word on her Text Translator and tapped her wand on it. She wanted to be sure of what he had said…
precious; valuable; figuratively lovely, beautiful; charming, pretty
Precious… valuable… Lovely… beautiful… charming… pretty…
What delightful adjectives!
She wondered which one of these he had meant.
She wondered why she wasn't grossed out by the fact that her old Potions Master was addressing her as "Mi Precioso Hermione"… my precious Hermione… my beautiful Hermione… my lovely Hermione… my charming Hermione…
She thought that she would like it to be best if it was "my precious Hermione".
It was a feeling unlike any before. She blushed prettily and couldn't stop smiling. She didn't even realize her own fickleness. She had just broken up with Tom and was lost in the attentions of another.
Her dreams tonight were going to be very pleasant.
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Her trunk had been taken outside and her breakfast had been brought in. It was a light meal of toast and coffee. She had to apparate and disapparate many times today. Those always made her feel sick. She wasn't going to risk it with a heavy stomach.
Just as she wiped her hands on her napkin, and got up to go, there was a knock on the door.
It was Professor Snape.
"Professor! I was just coming down to your office."
"Indeed?"
"Yes. I wanted to say goodbye."
The Potions Master frowned slightly. "You make it sound as if you will never come back again, Miss Granger."
Hermione looked down. How was she supposed to tell him why she was going to Barcelona?
"You aren't," he said, his voice unnaturally low. Not the threatening sort of low, but a disappointed kind of low… a dejected kind of low.
"One has to work to live, Professor," she said, her hands fidgeting with her handkerchief. "I'll get that and a good house and a good position in Barcelona. There is still a lot of discrimination in the British Ministry – not like the perfectly unprejudiced Spanish Ministry. I… can cope up with only so much, you know."
She looked up at him, her eyes begging forgiveness – for leaving him, when he had been so sure that she won't… that they would be good… acquaintances… she wasn't a little girl anymore.
"You can find other jobs in England."
Hermione sighed and shook her head. "No. I tried very hard. But I found none. Voldemort might have gone but he has left behind too much venom."
"You haven't tried hard enough, Miss Granger. I know of a respectable job in one of the most noted establishments. The salary is pretty good too. And you can teach – something I have noticed that you were always too eager to do."
Hermione's eyes widened. "What are you talking about?"
"Please accept the position of the Potions Mistress of Hogwarts," he said, his eyes imploring her to take what he offered.
"No! No! No! I will not do this to you. I will not…"
"Stop a moment, Hermione, please listen me out. You will not be making me jobless. You know why Dumbledore does not give me the position of the Defence Against the Dark Arts professor even though the Dark Lord has been vanquished? Well, he asked me to find a replacement and then he would do that. Just think, Hermione, you'll get your job and so will I. What is wrong with that?"
Hermione's sadness and worries disappeared. "You mean it?"
Snape frowned at her. "What do you think I am? A liar?"
"Thank-you! Thank-you! Thank-you so much!"
She was bursting with joy. Letting go of her valise, she threw her arms about him and captured his lips with her own.
Snape was shocked beyond words. What had happened? He was too stunned to respond. It was only when he felt her pull back, that he tightly gripped her waist and pulled her closer. Hermione began kissing him with renewed vigour.
Out of breath and gasping for air, they pulled apart.
Snape wondered how long it would be before she realized who she had been kissing and faint.
But she really didn't seem so woozy… she was grinning up at him… and looking seductively.
"I wonder if this would have got me an 'O' sooner than my seventh-year."
Severus pushed her inside the room, closing the door behind them. "I am not paedophilic but if you were capable of kissing like this all those years ago…"
Hermione laughed and then the laugh turned into a moan as he set about ravishing her… giving way to some very hidden desires – much as her own desires.
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Finis
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Go on… review… you know you want to.
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