Chapter 7: Blissful Ignorance
Exhausted, overwrought, and confused, Hermione had tumbled into bed after Ron's exit, deciding to Deal With It Tomorrow.
That is to say, she solidified her belongings, burned the piece of paper she'd copied the countercharm instructions onto, and destroyed every other conceivable piece of evidence pertaining to her nighttime expedition, and then went to bed.
And she nonetheless woke early the next morning with an inexplicable desire to go to the library instead of heading down to the Great Hall for breakfast, as was her wont.
Someone's avoi-ding Ro-on.
I am not; I want to do some more research on funesto and denicalis.
You keep running your fingers over your lips, Hermione.
Hermione flinched and hastily directed the hand that had been en route for her mouth towards her pocket instead.
Well, why shouldn't I be thinking of Ron?! He kissed me!
I never said you shouldn't be thinking of him. I just said that you were avoiding him.
I'm allowed to avoid whoever I want to, damn it.
Of course you are. I was merely trying to point out that Ron might get the wrong idea.
Yes, well…
Last night had been the culmination of five and a bit years of sexual tension. Ever since Ron's positively flagrant jealousy at the Yule Ball in their fourth year, it had been obvious – and, in all honesty, sort of flattering – that he… liked her.
When Fleur Delacour – radiating sexual energy – had lunged at him after the second task, Hermione's fists had clenched, and she'd had to suppress a wild and unexpected impulse to launch herself at the little nymphomaniac and tear out every last strand of that ridiculous hair. This, and other minor things – nervousness when they touched inadvertently and the way she sometimes treated him and Harry differently – had forced Hermione to accept that she liked him too.
And, well… the kiss last night had been nice.
I had certainly felt nice - her hands traced her lips again unconsciously – and she supposed she wouldn't mind feeling like that again, but…
It hadn't been as… electric as she'd expected it to be.
Oh give it up, Hermione. Real life doesn't provoke those sorts of feelings. You've been reading too many books. You and Ron have obviously got the lust thing going, so why don't you lower your impossibly high standards and enjoy it a little. No one really experiences the exhilaration all the romances talk about.
She jerked her hand back into her pocket as she entered the library and wished Madam Pince a good morning – in a hushed voice. Years of experience had taught her that Madam Pince was a great deal less stern when people were quiet.
Years of Hermione's incessant presence had taught Madam Pince that the girl realised this, and she nodded cordially as Hermione wandered over to the shelves devoted to Charms books.
She was in the middle of pulling "Death Charms" from the shelf when a low voice stopped her fingers dead in their tracks.
"Good morning, Irma."
You've got to be kidding me.
"Severus. Good morning."
Again?!
Hermione suddenly found that she couldn't breath. She shoved "Death Charms" back into its place and, for no explicable reason, darted two shelves to the left and pretended to be browsing for a book relating the project involving timed charms that Flitwick had set his sixth-years.
"Charm Delaying Techniques," "Charm the Day Away," "Make Your Time Count: An Simple Guide to Hastening Your Charms"…
She couldn't seem to stop reading the titles.
Don't look up. Don't look up. Pretend you haven't noticed him–
"Miss Granger." His voice turned her name into a sneer and her insides squirmed.
Hermione turned to face him slowly. He was standing at the end of the row, flanked by shelves on both his sides, and regarding her with a glitter of malevolence in his eyes. Her eyes felt waterlogged.
"What a surprise to find you here."
And for some treacherous, senseless reason, her blood started to boil.
"What a surprise to find you here." Oh. Such wit. Hermione's obsessed with the library. I'm going to taunt her. I must be the first person in the world to have noticed that she's a bookworm. I'm so original.
Rrrorw. Calm down…
Before she'd had time to exercise any control over herself, before she'd had time to think, Hermione raised her eyes to his, tilted her head slightly, and spoke with light innocence,
"Not really, Professor."
Oh my god…
Professor Snape actually stood motionless for a full three seconds before he responded in a low, menacing whisper.
"You will come with me to the Headmaster's office, Miss Granger. Now."
Hermione nodded to him politely, leisurely returned her quill and parchment to her bag, and piled her books neatly in a corner of the table before she stood.
HERMIONE!!!
Yes?
What the hell are you doing?! This is Snape. Look at his eyes; they'd ignite dynamite.
Oh. Yes. I suppose they would.
Snape wasn't even bothering to suppress his incredulity. Hermione supposed he considered the palpable fury that he was radiating to be a sufficient defence for his lapse in emotional control.
She motioned for him to lead the way. His eyes flared.
I can't believe you're baiting him like this.
Silence hung about them like a London fog as they approached Dumbledore's stone gargoyle – "Pepper Imps" – and as they rotated up the spiral staircase and as Snape brought the brass doorknocker down on the polished oak door.
The Headmaster's voice sounded neutral as his door swung open. "Come in Severus, Miss Granger."
He was seated at his desk, fingers clasped on its surface. He raised one hand to motion for the pair of them to sit.
As Hermione sank into the armchair on the right, Dumbledore fixed her with a particularly penetrating gaze, and, as the final traces of her anger faded, she felt the mask of confidence that she'd managed to maintain throughout her walk with Snape flicker and vanish.
"Miss Granger, I would like you to tell me what you did last night." Dumbledore's voice was serious, but not exactly angry. "Professor Snape has already related his version of events to me."
Just tell him what you told yourself last night to justify your actions. If you can convince yourself, you can convince him… Confidence can be an indispensable weapon.
To her astonishment, her attempt to remain calm succeeded.
Determined brown eyes locked with aged blue. "I used Harry's invisibility cloak to enter Professor Snape's storeroom with the intention of stealing a simple autorizzare mixture, but took a koritsu infusion accidentally." Her eyes, inexplicably, attempted to flicker in Snape's direction, but she forced them away. "When I tried to leave, Professor Snape was in the adjoining classroom."
She opened her mouth to continue honestly, but for some reason, the words wouldn't come. Her eyes made a wild dash in Snape's direction again, and she yanked them furiously back to Dumbledore. "He… apprehended me, and the koritsu infusion spilled onto my skin the process. Then I panicked, due to the effects of the infusion, and I ran."
Snape had gone very, very still. Dumbledore's eyes flitted to him momentarily before returning to Hermione, their gaze probing.
"Miss Granger…" He seemed to change his mind. "Could you explain why you attempted to steal from Professor Snape?"
Please let him understand…
"Professor Dumbledore, do you know what Harry and Ron got on their Potions OWLs?" Her words came out in a rush.
Dumbledore paused for the briefest of moments before he responded to this apparent non sequitur. And Hermione could have sworn that his eyes had sparkled. "Acceptable, I think it was?"
Slightly reassured by the miniscule twinkle, she ploughed on, keeping her voice respectful, "Yes, and are you aware of what OWL grades students must achieve to be accepted into Professor Snape's pre-NEWT potions class?"
"Exceeds Expectations or higher?" Dumbledore turned to Snape as if for confirmation, a slight quirk to his lips. Snape nodded jerkily, his eyes burning a hole in Hermione's shoulder; she swallowed, watching him peripherally.
"Exactly." She took a deep breath. "Professor, Harry and Ron want to become Aurors when they leave Hogwarts, and even though it is a very ambitious goal," Snape snorted; she ignored him, "I still believe that Hogwarts should at least equip them to attempt it. Aurors are required to graduate with a minimum of five NEWTs, and the recommended subjects for four out of the five are Defence Against the Dark Arts, Transfiguration, Charms, and Potions.
"I realise that pre-NEWT classes are not mandatory prerequisites for NEWT classes, but it is very difficult to take an NEWT class in your seventh year if you haven't taken its sixth-year pre-course. The standard sixth year potions class that Harry and Ron are in right now – because they weren't accepted into the pre-NEWT class on account of their OWL grades – isn't covering half of the things that the pre-NEWT class is. They'd be much too far behind to switch into the NEWT Potions class next year. Harry and Ron need to get an E or higher on their NEWTs to become Aurors. To do so without the experience provided by a NEWT Potions course would be impossible.
"Professor Snape is the only teacher in the school who puts a grade limit on his pre-NEWT class. All of the other professors only put the grade limits on their NEWT classes, so that the people who don't score high enough on their fifth year OWLs can re-take the tests in their sixth year to get into the NEWT classes, but can still take the pre-NEWT classes in the meantime.
"Basically, Professor Dumbledore, I don't think that Professor Snape's rule is fair. I've been helping Ron and Harry keep up with pre-NEWT Potions class by teaching them the lessons that… aren't being covered in their normal class, and some of the ingredients for the potions he sets the NEWT class are impossible to order… which is why I tried to steal the autorizzare last night."
She ended her diatribe, forcing herself not to mention the fact that she was sure Snape assigned potions like the one requiring the autorizzare on purpose.
Dumbledore was watching her with a definite smile playing about his lips. "Miss Granger, while ostensibly wrong, makes a strong case, Severus."
Snape's lip curled. "Headmaster, I was under the impression that we'd congregated to decide on Miss Granger's punishment, not to discuss the ethics of the way I choose to teach my classes."
The headmaster nodded sententiously, paused for a moment, and then spoke, with the air of a person telling a very subtle joke. "Very well, Severus, I shall allow you to choose a punishment for Miss Granger," Hermione's heart wrenched to a stop and Snape exhaled slowly, "but only if you make an alteration to your policy."
They both froze.
Dumbledore continued innocently. "I will allow you to maintain a grade limit on your pre-NEWT classes, Severus, only if you allow those students who don't score Outstanding on their OWLs a… second chance at admission. You will test them at the end of the second week of school – which will be this Friday, incidentally. If they pass this examination to your satisfaction, they will be permitted to enter your pre-NEWT class. Students after all," his eyes twinkled, "receive career counselling fairly late into fifth year, and some do not realise that a Potions NEWT will be essential to their careers until it is too late."
Snape and Hermione remained immobile. Hermione didn't know whether to celebrate or panic.
Dumbledore smiled benignly. "You may go down to breakfast, Severus. I'd like a few words with Miss Granger."
Hermione's gaze snapped to Dumbledore apprehensively, but he was still watching Snape, who stood silently and without expression and swept towards the door.
Hermione forced herself to speak before Snape left. "Professor Dumbledore?"
One white eyebrow arched very slightly. "Yes, Miss Granger?"
Snape halted and turned to watch her, making her skin crawl.
"I… when I was in Snape's dungeon, I lost Harry's invisibility cloak. Seeing as… well, seeing as I was the one breaking the rules, not Harry, I was wondering if he could have it back. I'd be willing to accept a harsher punishment."
Dumbledore considered her for a long moment, and then nodded. "Very well. Severus, you will return Harry's cloak to him."
Hermione caught sight of the expression twisting Snape features and immediately realised how very, very stupid her offer had been.
"And, Severus? When deciding on a punishment for Miss Granger, please remember that I am the only person who possesses the authority to alter her status as a Prefect or a student at this school."
Well… at least there's that…
Are you kidding me? He just gets to exercise more creativity now…
Snape nodded once, his face inscrutable again and left the office.
Dumbledore turned to Hermione, his expression kind, but serious.
"Miss Granger, I have two more questions for you before I can allow you to go to breakfast."
"Yes, sir?"
"First, may I see your wand?"
Hermione suddenly felt that her reversal of Snape's spell was not the most intelligent thing she could have done. She set it upon Dumbledore's desk nervously, but he simply stared at it for a long moment and then motioned for her to take it back.
"And secondly, you said that Snape apprehended you. You were still invisible at the time, I assume?"
Hermione swallowed. "Yes, sir…"
Does he know? Or does he just mean the cloak…
Dumbledore fixed her with eyes that seemed to bore into her head. Finally he nodded, regarding her curiously, but without his former seriousness. "Very well, Hermione."
She twitched very slightly at his use of her given name and felt absurdly warmed by the gesture. Dumbledore shot her a mischievous grin and stood, motioning for her to do the same.
She watched him curiously as he tapped once on one of the pictures behind his desk, causing the outline of a door to trace itself onto his wall. The opening that was created revealed the back of a tapestry that she knew hung in the Entrance Hall.
Dumbledore ushered her through his impromptu secret passageway – his eyes resembling twin nebulas – and they walked towards the Great Hall together. "I do not feel the need to lecture you; whatever sentence Professor Snape devises will certainly be an ample punishment, and I'm sure you've already chastised yourself sufficiently. May I advise you, however, that next time you deem a school rule to be… unjust, you talk to a teacher or myself instead of resorting to martyrdom?"
Hermione smiled slightly as they passed through the double doors. The Great Hall was filled with a few early risers, all of whom stared curiously as she and the headmaster entered.
"Thank you Professor, but you have to realise that Harry's probably the only person in this school who feels comfortable barging into your office whenever he has a problem."
Dumbledore chuckled and waved his hand. "I see, well, enjoy your breakfast, Miss Granger. The house-elves tell me that the kippers are especially good this morning."
With that, he left her by the Gryffindor table, but not before she'd seen the small flare of hurt that had manifested itself in his eyes at her words.
And even though the morning's events had progressed better than she could have dreamed, she sat down to her breakfast fighting tears.
The Great Hall filled around her, and Harry and Ron materialised by her side fifteen minutes later to find her staring morosely into a porridge bowl. The twin expressions of anxiety that spread over their features as they took in her obvious bad mood would have been amusing had she not been feeling so utterly dejected.
Ron offered her tentative smile. "…you're up early."
She snapped back thoughtlessly. "So are you."
Ron looked as though he would have liked nothing better than to turn tail and run, but, looking extremely hesitant, he said. "Great minds think alike?"
He's trying to cheer you up…
Oh… that's sort of cute…
Ugh. Please
Inexplicably, the beginnings of a smile hovered about her lips. "Great minds think for themselves, Ron."
Ron shot her an impish grin while he and Harry, who was now looking much more relaxed, plopped into seats opposite hers.
"Actually, greater minds help their lesser counterparts with their Potions homework."
Hermione rolled her eyes, smiling helplessly. "Ron."
He's flirting with you…
He is NOT! This is normal
So you admit that this whole situation isn't weird then?
I… that wasn't fair.
Oh come on, Hermione. You feel completely comfortable. You have absolutely nothing to worry about.
Ron sighed melodramatically and turned to Harry. "She hoards her knowledge like a dragon its gold."
Hermione's lips twitched. "I'll look it over for you tonight after I'm finished mine."
Harry and Ron exchanged high fives.
Maybe a little too normal.
Hermione, forcing her gaze away from Ron's smile, suddenly remembered what had happened this morning, and proceeded to recount the whole story.
"We have an exam this Friday?!" Harry, judging by the tone of his voice, considered this news to be apocalyptic.
"Snape is deciding on your punishment? SNAPE?!" Ron just sounded angry.
Hermione exhaled, dropping her gaze back to her porridge. "I know… but I did manage to convince Dumbledore to make Snape give back the cloak."
Two mouths gaped at her, and then Harry let out a whoop and punched the air.
Ron, however, seemingly in the throes of a fit of good spirits, leaned towards her and kissed her.
(again)…
Right smack on the lips.
Harry froze – mid-whoop – looked at Ron in astonishment, and then applied himself to his scrambled eggs with immense amounts of concentration.
Well… it's not the most dignified way he could have brought it up but…
Ron looked horrified. His skin was rapidly assuming the shade of rotten tomatoes, but he was watching her in a manner that suggested he was almost hoping for an answer.
Just look at him. He adores you.
Hermione gaped at him for five long seconds, frozen in place, and then, without warning, she found herself dissolving into a fit of giggles.
"Hermione?" Ron sounded as though he was about to burst into tears.
She grinned at him. "Oh, why not?" Her voice came out a little unsteady.
Harry was watching them out of the corner of his eye, and it suddenly occurred to Hermione that Ron might not know what she was talking about.
Ron's eyes widened, "You… really?"
Never mind then…
She smiled tentatively and nodded.
He stared at her for a long moment. And then his face split in the most genuine smile she'd ever seen.
Ron got to his feet, shot round the table, pulled her up, and lowered his mouth to hers in a gesture more permanent than its predecessors.
Unfortunately, at that precise moment, three people entered the Great Hall.
The first was Professor McGonagall, whose incredulous shriek of, "Mr. Weasley! Miss Granger! What in the name of all that is good do you think you are doing?!" came between them with the force of two positively charged magnets, and was followed by a severe reprimand for unacceptable conduct and the removal of ten points apiece from Gryffindor.
The second and the third, to Hermione's abject horror, were Pavarti and Lavender.
From the author: To those of you who read chapters 6 and 7 and find yourself fighting the urge to castrate Ron and then lock Hermione and Snape – devoid of clothing – in a small room, I promise you that there will, at the very least, be more of Snape in following chapters. And let me assure you that I haven't lost my mind – you need look no further than the title of this chapter for proof.
And again, I apologise for the inevitable typos.
And points to anyone who can find a slightly mangled Laurie R. King quote.
