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Hermione stayed in her seat, when the class finished, nodding to Harry that she'd be all right. He walked out with a final glance back at his tired friend, who rested her head on her arms, which lay on the desk.

Snape waved his wand at the door, locking it from outside intruders. "I have to apologize, Hermione. I did not mean what I said," Snape said, standing over her.

Hermione laughed, lightly into her arms. "Professor, have you ever in your life apologized?" she asked, peering up at him. He cast a shadow over her, where she sat at the desk.

"Not often," Snape said, through gritted teeth.

"Sir, I accept your apology and remind you that that's what you're supposed to do, but next time you apologize to someone, don't hover like that, or you'll scare them," Hermione said. He seemed to just realize that she was under his shadow, having to look up at him. He was in the same stance he used while scolding students. Hermione looked off at the wall, a tear falling down her cheek as she stared at it. She wiped it away quickly.

Snape sat beside her, wrapping an arm over her shoulder, awkwardly. She looked at her hands on the desk. "What is wrong?" he asked.

"Everything is just so…" Hermione trailed off.

"Draco insists that if I choose Oliver he'll die, but he's the only one of you I know. I know I hate listening to rambles about quiditch and which team is on top, but it's familiar and that's who he is. He's the most like my two best friends. I probably shouldn't talk to you about this, you being one of the choices and all. Plus you probably don't care all that much, but…" Hermione couldn't find the words.

"I do care. Remember, I have to know which one of them I'll be following around. I do like Bill a bit better, though he could lose the ear-jewelry," Snape pointed out, smiling, hoping to get a laugh out of Hermione.

She looked at him, deathly serious. "You may only have to follow me around if I choose you," Hermione said.

"Miss Granger, I'm not the best choice for you. You know that I am twice your age. I am not an easy person to deal with, even I recognize that," Snape said, pulling his arm from around her and setting it on the table with his other one.

"Professor, out of the three, I respect you the most. You do a lot for the order, which is the biggest part of my life right now. Above everything, I am a member of the Order of the Phoenix, even if I'm only invited to about half the meetings," Hermione added with a smile.

"You'll be a strategist when you get out, I'm sure. I heard Albus and Minerva talking about it," Snape told her.

"No changing the subject, professor," Hermione scolded lightly, with a smile. "My decision will be fair and I will get advice from anyone I can on the subject. Maybe I should ask the Headmaster about it," Hermione said.

"No!" Snape said, quickly.

"What's wrong with that?" Hermione asked.

"Albus has been hell-bent on getting me married for almost fifteen years, Miss Granger. All he'll do is sing praises about me and me alone," Snape said.

"Really, he has?" Hermione asked, laughing. "Professor McGonagall said.

"If she does the same don't be surprised, but I suppose she is a better choice," Snape said. "Now, I wanted to ask you something that you may not be comfortable with answering, but please don't get angry with me or run out without answering. If you don't want to tell me about it, then don't, all right and I won't speak of it again," Snape said.

"You're scaring me sir," Hermione looked slightly worried.

"Mr. Malfoy gave me some disturbing news about what you speak with your guardian painting about," Snape said.

"I speak with my painting about many things and if Draco Malfoy had been eaves-dropping and heard something about you then he doesn't know what he's talking about," Hermione said, quickly.

"Miss Granger, it doesn't have anything to do with me… you talk to your painting about me?" Snape asked, as he realized what she said.

"Um… not much," Hermione said, looking extremely embarrassed.

"Miss Granger, this has nothing to do with me and entirely to do with you and your home situation," Snape said.

"That bastard little ferret," Hermione muttered.

"Don't make me deduct house points, Hermione," Snape said, softly. She looked up at him sharply when he used her given name.

"Sir, I don't know what Draco heard, but it wasn't meant for his ears," Hermione said, going to stand. Snape grabbed her arm in a gentle but firm grip and made her sit.

"Hermione, my parents used to give me crucios when I made a mistake or talked back. What do your parents do to you?" Snape asked. Hermione looked at him in shock at both his admission and his question. "I just want to talk to you about it," Snape said, carefully, snapping her out of her stunned stare.

"Professor, that's the reason I am so into my studies. I do it to forget. I don't want to remember," Hermione said, meekly, looking very pale.

"Just talk to me. It may make you feel better," Snape said, feeling very awkward about being so gentle with a student. He had calm and intimate (Not in the way some of you are thinking) conversations with Draco, but this was much different. He was talking to someone he was considering as fiancé material, and vice-versa.

"All right," Hermione relaxed slightly, but not much. "It started when they found out I was a witch, when my dad found out that is. My parents are devout Christians and my dad thinks that my being a witch goes against God and Jesus Christ, he says," Hermione said. "My dad started drinking heavily that summer before my first year, but he didn't lay a hand on me. My dad never hurt me and he would never openly show how much he hated my being a witch. He pretends for me. When I came back the next summer, my uncle had moved in and was very angry at me for being what I was. I wasn't allowed to speak when in the house with him alone. If I did, he would back-hand me or throw me into something. My parents met the Weasleys and my dad carefully pretended that there was nothing off about it, but the night after, when my parents went out to the movies; my uncle broke my wrist, by throwing me into a wall when I breathed too loud. I didn't tell my parents. I went quietly to the ministry that night, after my uncle fell asleep, and came back all healed up. I told the people at St. Mungos that I had fallen off a ladder. It just kept getting worse, then…" Hermione stopped, her breathing becoming struggling and uneven.

"What did he do?" Snape asked, softly.

"He beat me with a baseball bat the third night of summer vacation last summer, when my parents were working late at the dentists office, with paperwork and such. They put me in intensive care at a muggle hospital, because I had a collapsed lung, a few broken ribs and a head injury that kept me in a comma. The place was horrible, and I had to breathe by machine, until the ministry found me. Fudge came to me personally; my being Harry's best friend does have its merits. Fudge took me to St. Mungos and a week later I was healed, but they wouldn't release me to my parents for another month. Fudge had me held up at the Leaky Cauldron. I went back after that month, and my uncle had moved out, and run off, afraid of the wizards coming after him," Hermione said.

"Where were your parents when you were in intensive care muggle hospital?" Snape asked.

"Praying," Hermione said, sadly.

"Why didn't they contact Dumbledore?" Snape demanded.

"I don't own an owl, professor and even if I did, they wouldn't know that they just had to write his name on a note," Hermione said, trying to fight back the tears.

"And you were unconscious?" Snape asked.

"I was which meant I couldn't owl the Headmaster or send word to the ministry," Hermione wrapped her arms around herself. Snape looked at her for a moment, pondering on what to do before he wrapped his arms around her hugging her closely as she began to cry.

He was definitely a stranger to comfort and as such he was confused about what to do, but he settled with holding her and rubbing her back, gently. It had worked for that Weasley boy when he was comforting her. It seemed to work well enough. She pulled away and wiped her tear-streaked face with her sleeve, after her tears finally stopped.

"Thank you, professor. It's good to talk to someone other than Godric," Hermione said.

"You do know he's just a painting, don't you?" Snape said, softly.

"Well, he's my secret-keeper and I don't think he'll betray me," Hermione said, smiling slightly.

"I suppose it's better than sharing your secrets with Draco's painting," Snape smirked.

"He probably hears a lot of what we talk about, but if he ever tries to come over, Godric draws his sword and threatens him back," Hermione giggled.

"Well that's that. If he pulls out a sword on Slytherin for you, he's a true friend," Snape turned his laugh into a cough, but Hermione recognized it for what it was, and what he was trying to disguise.

"Just so you know, it feels okay to laugh, professor," Hermione said.

"It may, Miss Granger, but I'm not about to do it," Snape's face slipped back into its usual scowl.

"Whatever you say sir," Hermione said. "I have to get to Levitation. I'm a bit late."

"I'm sure your friends have told the professor why. The evil git Snape keeping you behind after forcing you to answer an unfair question that you didn't know," Snape pointed out. He handed Hermione her bag as she stood. She nodded in thanks.

"I'll see you soon then, sir," Hermione said, nodding once more, before walking out of the room.

Snape scowled, deeply. What was wrong with him? He was going soft, that's it, he decided with an angry sigh. A few seconds after Hermione was gone, Albus Dumbledore strutted into the classroom.

"Ah, Severus, I see you and Miss Granger were speaking. You didn't have to make her cry you know," Albus said, with an odd smile on his face.

"So, you knew?" Snape asked, rhetorically.

"I don't know what you mean my boy," Albus said, brightly.

"You knew she was in a muggle hospital last summer and that I would find out because of Godric and that I would ask her about it, therefore we would have a heart-to-heart. Old man, why don't you just give it up," Snape asked.

"Because Miss Granger told me in the hall that she was looking forward to Saturday most of all," Albus smiled.

"What a load of crock, Albus," Snape muttered.

"I asked her which date she was looking most forward to, and that's what she answered," Albus shrugged. "Believe it or not my young friend."

"You're impossible, Albus," Snape rolled his eyes, letting out an exasperated sigh. "I'm glad I told her not to listen to your advice. You're completely prejudiced," Snape pointed out.

"That may be true, but who better to protect her, Severus? You know that Oliver would be killed within a week and Bill has very little better a chance than Oliver. It's in everyone's best interest for her to choose you," Albus said.

"What it I'm death and you kept trying to get her to choose me and we both die. What would you do then?" Severus asked.

"Well, at least I know, you'd die first, protecting her, then we could get her out; you're dispensable," Albus said, laughing at his own joke.

"That's not funny, Albus," Snape growled.

"I'm only joking, Severus. We both know that you're not death," Albus said, laughter still in his eyes.

"Did anyone ever tell you that you're a crazy old coot?" Snape asked.

"Actually, when Minerva and I were," Albus interjected a slight caught, "exploring each other, she called me-"

"HOW MANY TIMES TO I HAVE TO TELL YOU TO NOT TALK ABOUT YOUR SEX LIFE WITH ME!" Snape asked, looking very sick and very angry at the same time.

"You asked," Albus shrugged, grinning like a Cheshire cat.

"Get out of my classroom, Albus. I'll talk to you later," Snape snapped, stalking to his office in a huff.

"Have a nice afternoon, Severus!" Albus called, cheerily.

Hermione was thankful for the brief lax in security, but she didn't walk slowly. She had been worried Severus would have called Harry or Draco to excort her to class, but he didn't. She hurried through the halls, terrified that she'd miss something in Levitation, not that she ever needed to worry. She could take the NEWTs at any moment and get great scores, especially in levitation.

"Sorry that I'm late sir," she said as she entered Professor Flitwick's class.

"You had potions before this, Miss Granger?" Professor Flitwick asked.

"Yes, sir," she replied.

"All right then, just take a seat dear. We are practicing summoning charms. Conjure one of the pillows from the cupboard if you will," he asked. Hermione set her book bag done, and waved her wand, as the rest of the Hufflepuff/Gryffindor class watched. A pillow appeared on her desk, as she sat down.

"Thank you Miss Granger, now as I have told you, there is no incantation for such a summoning charm. You have to concentrate all your energy on what it is you want to bring forth," Professor Flitwick squeaked. "Maybe you could help Misters Weasley and Longbottom, Miss Granger."

Hermione nodded. She was used to acting as a sort of assistant in Levitation, as her skills in the class excelled far past NEWT levels. Hermione started thinking about the summoning charm. She went up to the tiny professor's desk. He looked up at her, questioningly.

"Sorry, professor, but I was just wondering… does the summoning charm work on people too?" Hermione asked.

"Why, yes, I believe it does. I haven't actually tried it before. You don't usually summon people with your wand more than call them to you. I don't do much with summoning charms, but your class is so far ahead of the regular curriculum, you see," Professor Flitwick said.

"Would it be like apparition or teleportation in that respect?" she asked.

"In a sense, yes," Flitwick nodded. If the person were holding something in their hand when you summoned them would it come too?" Hermione asked.

"I don't know. Why don't you try it on your Neville there," Flitwick chuckled, looking at the bumbling boy who was fumbling with his backpack.

Hermione concentrated her energy, closing her eyes. The lights flickered and Neville appeared shocked in front of them, his chair still beneath him. Hermione laughed at his bewildered look.

"Sorry Neville." Hermione smiled, sending him back to his desk with a wave of her hand. Flitwick stared at her hand, and it took her a second to realize she had accidentally performed wandless magic without thinking.

"Miss Granger, have you thought about performing your Practical Work wandless for the NEWTs?" Flitwick asked, still staring at her hand.

"No sir, can I do that?" Hermione asked.

"You could get a great recommendation from you NEWT evaluator if you did. It is an extremely rare gift. Not even the headmaster could master it. Your university prospects could go wild with such a marvelous skill. Your Charms and Levitation scores would definitely be higher if possible, Miss Granger. Why don't you take this and go speak with Minerva. I'm sure she'd love to speak with you about it," Flitwick said, handing her a quickly scrawled note.

"Sir, um, Professor Snape told me I am not to go anywhere without Harry Potter or Draco Malfoy with me. I got a threatening note from... you-know-who," Hermione said, slowly.

Flitwick let out a squeak. "Take Mr. Potter with you then dear and I hope you stay safe," Flitwick said, faintly.

"Thank you sir," Hermione nodded. "Harry, let's go," Hermione said, as she came to the desk. He had his wand pointed at the cupboard and his face scrunched up in a very unattractive way.

"Huh?" Harry frowned.

"I have to talk to Professor McGonagall and I'm not allowed to go anywhere alone. You're coming with me," Hermione said, quickly.

"Oh, all right," Harry nodded, standing. Ron gave her a pitiful look.

"Sorry Ron, but it is Harry or Draco. You weren't a choice," Hermione gave him an apologetic look.

"All right, but you owe me," Ron said. Hermione smiled at him, but didn't reply.

She hadn't realized that wandless magic was so rare. She had read books on it and had worked all summer to master it. Wandless magic was unable to be restricted by the Ministry. She had picked up a book on it in Diagon Alley and in the month she had stayed there, she had practiced countless hours on it until she could perform any Charms and Levitation spells and many Transfiguration spells.

"What's this about anyway?" Harry asked.

"Flitwick learned that I could use wandless magic," Hermione said.

"And…?" Harry frowned.

"Not even Dumbledore can do it, he says," Hermione told him.

"Really? That's wicked," Harry said.

"I don't think it's a difficult thing to master, by the way he spoke of it. I think it's just that not few people have the power in them to use it," Hermione frowned.

"Well, maybe you could help the order by being able to use it," Harry said, brightly. Hermione smiled at him, in response. She saw Oliver turn the corner ahead of them, walking in the direction of the Deputy-Headmistress' office.

"Oliver!" Harry called, waving grandly.

"Hello, you two!" Oliver called, as he turned. He waited for them to get to him and resumed walking.

"Aren't you two supposed to be in class?" Oliver asked, grinning at them, roguishly.

"I am supposed to speak to Professor McGonagall and Severus told me, plainly that I'm not to go anywhere without Harry or the head boy at my side," Hermione explained.

"Got you really protected then? He promised Bill and I he would when we were talking about it, but he's really going to lengths, isn't he, making Harry follow you around," Oliver smiled

"What about you? Why are you here?" Hermione asked.

"I ran across a problem with transfiguration in my first week of auror training. The auror academy didn't cover some of the things about shape-shifting and the difference between that and animagi."

"Shape-shifting requires a spell and only lasts a few hours, while you can live as an animagi for up to twelve years," Hermione said, almost out of reflex.

"Well, 12 years is as long as we've heard of. An unregistered animagi," Harry offered. "We know quite a few of those, eh, 'Mione? Past and present" Harry said, grimly.

"Harry, it's better to not think about that," Hermione said, patting his arm comfortingly.

"Your god-father?" Oliver asked, carefully. Everyone knew the sacrifice Sirius Black had been to the Order of the Phoenix and had heard of the battle that had started the war and ended all suspicion against Harry and Dumbledore.

"Ya, but it's okay," Harry shrugged.

Hermione smiled at him, squeezing his shoulder. "I was hoping she'd be able to teach me shape-shifting," Oliver said.

"She would probably be happy to," Hermione said.

"Good, because I don't know any other Transfiguration Professors off the top ofmy head," Oliver smiled, slightly.

"Professor McGonagall is the best at any rate, well… perhaps after Professor Dumbledore. I heard he was a great teacher almost forty years ago," Hermione said.

"You hear a lot of things, don't you?" Harry chucked at the way her friend always said 'I heard,' when she had actually read things.

"Wait, you said, the head boy could walk with you?" Harry said, as if it just clicked in his head. "The head boy is Draco Malfoy! Don't tell me that snake of a potions professor actually trusts that blonde-haired prat!" Harry exclaimed.

"Well, I have found out just recently that if I do accept Severus' petition that blonde-haired prat will be my husband's godson," Hermione giggled at the look of horror on Harry's face.

"That's…. That's… That's just wrong!" Harry said. Hermione continued to laugh, and Oliver's smile widened.

"I suspect he'd call you Auntie 'Mione then wouldn't he?" Oliver added.

Harry's horrified face sent Hermione again into a fit of uncontrollable giggles. As they arrived at the deputy-headmistress' office, those giggles had finally subsided.

Hermione knocked timidly on the door. "Come in!" Professor McGonagall's voice called, briskly. Hermione opened the door and stepped in to see first years attempting to turn matches into toothpicks, while McGonagall graded papers in the front.

Hermione looked at the students who looked back at her with curiosity. "Professor McGonagall, Professor Flitwick sent me to speak with you about wandless magic, but I should probably come back then," Hermione said, embarrassedly looking at the young students.

"Nonsense, Miss Granger, come on into my office. Mr. Potter why are you here? Mr. Wood too?" McGonagall frowned at the two.

"I'm Hermione's escort… Snape's orders," Harry said.

"I'd like to speak with you about shape-shifting when you get a chance," Oliver said.

"Yes, of course," McGonagall nodded. "Mr. Potter, you passed this class. Do watch over the students while I speak with Miss Granger. Mr. Wood, you could help him please?"

"My pleasure professor," Oliver nodded.

Hermione followed the Professor into her office.

"Severus has you followed now?" McGonagall asked, amusedly, after closing the door.

"Harry or Malfoy," Hermione replied. "Draco," she added, when she received an odd look from the transfiguration professor.

"Ah, yes. He really is worried about you then?" McGonagall nodded.

"Probably more that my Defense Against the Dark Arts is not up with the rest of my classes."

"You got an exceeds expectations on your OWLs, my dear," McGonagall reminded.

"Yes, well Harry got an Outstanding as I'm sure Draco Malfoy did as well," Hermione replied.

"Come now, Miss Granger, you scored one-hundred-percent on your written test," McGonagall reminded. "I was sorry to hear about that classroom test with the boggart," McGonagall chuckled, a bit. The rumor of the boggart that mimicked McGonagall telling Hermione that she had failed everything had somehow reached McGonagall's ears.

"My boggart has changed though, as of today," Hermione said.

"Really my dear? What is it?" McGonagall asked.

"Severus calling me up in front of the class to answer a problem I don't know," Hermione said.

"Double-Potions today?" McGonagall asked, sympathetically.

"He told me to put the ingredients up on the board and I forgot the three ingredients used to stabilize the base of the potion so that the core couldcounteract the effects ofthe underbase of the first stage… and you don't understand a word I'm saying, do you?" Hermione asked.

"No, I'm afraid not," McGonagall smiled, pleasantly. "Suffice to say you left out three ingredients to a very complex potion, I'm sure."

"It's only a seven on the book's scale. I should know how to brew it with my eyes closed by now," Hermione said. "I've read the book three times, and brewed every potion in there at least twice," Hermione said, with a sigh.

"You'll beat him next time, dear. Anyways, what's this about wandless magic?" McGonagall asked.

"Would you like some tea?" Hermione asked, waving her hand at the tea pot on the counter in the back of the room. It floated to hover in front of her. And with a few more waves of her wand, it was full of warm tea and in a cup in front of McGonagall.

"Thank you dear, but…" McGonagall stopped, noticing that she didn't have a wand in hand. It was safely stowed away in her pocket out of sight.

"My god," McGonagall stared. She took a deep breath of the tea, to find it was real and perfectly brewed, but by Hermione… without a wand.

"You can do wandless magic," McGonagall said, in astonishment. "There's only one other wizard that I've ever met that can…"

"I didn't know it was even rare until about ten minutes ago," Hermione explained. "I've been able to use it since Fudge kept me holed up at the Leaky Cauldron this summer.

"Thank him for that later. You have to speak with Albus. He'll want to have an order meeting and…" McGonagall said, standing. She looked back at Hermione's stunned face. She sighed.

"You may want to know whyconcentrated wandless magicis so rare, then I'm sure," McGonagall said, sitting down. "Very well. I shall explain…"

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