Minerva was shocked when a parchment appeared on her desk in the late afternoon.
The occurrence in itself was not so surprising - her colleagues regularly sent short notes relating pertinent events they felt she should know about, however as her eyes began to carefully peruse the parchment's contents, Minerva was shocked to discover that it had been a student who had sent it.
Her eyes widened further at realizing just whose parchment she was holding.
A CV? What even-?
Before she could draw a quill to contact Filius, the wards shifted and Minerva was notified of an impending visitor to her office. She sniffed lightly to herself, emerald eyes still raking over the neatly organized information before her... at once insatiably curious to continue reading, and bewildered as to why the young witch thought it necessary to send it to her.
A familiar wheezing reached her ears and Minerva looked up at the sound, realizing that the answer to her question was likely on its way. She waved the door open.
"Horace," she called looking over her spectacles as her Potions professor entered. "I presume you're here to notify me as to the reason one of my seventh-years has just sent me her curriculum vitae?"
"Ah… sorry 'bout that, Minerva," the wizard began, dabbing a handkerchief to his glistening brow. Hmph. At least he has the grace to look chastised.
"Fortunately, Master Granger is no ordinary seventh-year or I would scarcely doubt this conversation would be a possibility," he said rather cheerfully, taking seat opposite her with a rather heavy sigh.
"And which conversation is that, precisely?" Horace's abashed expression seemed to indicate his knowledge that he had a good deal of explaining to do.
As if her raised eyebrow wasn't enough.
With her focus on her guilty-looking Potions professor, Minerva hadn't noticed a second approaching visitor until Filius pressed the door open and strode through, an answer already falling from his lips.
"The one in which Horace indicates that he is delighted to announce the unexpected and ever-so-convenient arrival of one of the Potions Society's most promising Masters since our illustrious Master Severus Snape himself," Filius said swiftly, a small smile already gracing his lips.
A quick glance upwards saw the portrait in question feigning sleep.
The small wizard held up a hand at the beginnings of her protests and quickly charmed the second chair before her desk to lower itself before boosting him up.
"Now, Minerva. Hear us out. I've only just learned of it myself," Filius said, giving a small nod toward Horace. The portly wizard was still wheezing slightly.
"I'm waiting," Minerva replied dryly.
"Let us look at the bare facts, my dear. Unlike our other professors who are already complaining of the large workload and increased class sizes… Horace maintains his current duties to the Potions curricula while also adding in extra duties as Head of House plus his work with Draco's Mastery program. It is a highly unusual workload given the school's history of accommodating its active Masters. So, let us begin with the simple fact of the matter which is that we have a witch present who is more than qualified to step in and alleviate some of the burden."
Inwardly, Minerva was more than a bit irritated by her Deputy discussing the personnel issue at hand in front of Horace himself, however a more rational side of her acknowledged the logic.
"I take it that you've seen her CV?" she asked, directing the question to Filius.
"Indeed I have. Most impressive. And what is most intriguing is her apparent desire to effect change at the secondary school level," he responded nodding toward the parchment in her hand.
Minerva glanced over it again carefully. I would have never expected her to go to the Middle East…
"A good friend of mine in Tel Aviv has indicated that she's made remarkable strides at changing Potions curricula throughout the Middle East in the last year and a half. Her methods are astonishing," Horace put in, already stroking his mustache with a smile of disbelief. He shook his head and chuckled.
"Granted, she comes from the most well-renowned family of brewers on this side of the Atlantic… some would argue, the world. It comes as no surprise to me that she's already developed her abilities to a substantial level and has become a tenacious force in wanting to restructure the… er, more outdated traditions that continue to pervade Mastery culture."
Dimly, Minerva wondered about Horace's own Mastery status and how he was able to share that information so readily. Perhaps the Potions Society binds its masters differently...
"Do you know of her classification status then?" Minerva asked carefully. In her peripheral vision, she saw Filius sit forward slightly.
Horace glanced at the two of them carefully, hand obscuring his mustache. Minerva felt a twinge of guilt for asking, but it was a relevant question considering the extenuating circumstances and she wanted to be assured that the witch was indeed qualified beyond her rather startling resumé.
"Second class," Horace replied swiftly, surprising her with his honesty. "However, my friend indicates that she could easily past her third and fourth classifications. Possibly even her fifth provided she devoted time to the experimental components. Her lack of continued credentials is… er, a minor form of protest."
Horace's expression dissolved into a slightly sheepish one and Minerva found herself swallowing a laugh of disbelief. Shaking her head slightly, she paused and removed her glasses momentarily at a loss for words.
Merlin's Beard - she took on her own Society!
"That is… most interesting, Horace. I thank you for your candid words," Minerva managed after a moment, quelling her amusement. There were still a number of questions pressing in the back of her mind.
Filius was watching her with a steely expression and Minerva found herself sighing in reply.
"What is the arrangement you wish propose?" she asked heavily, attempting not to glare as both of the wizards perked up.
"Master Granger made it clear that she demanded both your approval and the approval of the Board before entering into any negotiations in earnest. She wants assurance that her continued studies at Hogwarts are to be considered entirely separate from any proposed teaching duties that we may wish to impart," Horace began gruffly, arms crossing over his enormous potbelly.
Minerva nodded her understanding. Smart witch.
"I would like to propose that Master Granger take over the curriculum for all of the first and second year classes and possibly mentor a few of the promising seventh-years on their final projects. Obviously, I would ask Draco to shadow her classes and potentially step in to teach alongside her - she's already been amenable to this suggestion and unfortunately, I haven't had the time to properly oversee Draco's classroom hours. However, I have a feeling he will take to her style rather well. The majority of marking can then fall to him obviously, leaving Master Granger room for her studies."
Minerva frowned, jotting down a few notes. She briefly noted the deferential way he kept referring to the young woman as "Master," trying to tamp down her own pride at hearing her colleague use the witch's formal title. I see she took on the gender differential as well...
"That is a considerable amount of work for the witch, Horace," she chided after a long moment, glancing over her colleague's proposal, "That would mean giving her ten or more extra hours of class time, without accounting for her own preparations which, knowing Miss Granger, are likely extensive. Her own class schedule would need to be completely re-done!"
Horace nodded apologetically.
"I realize this. However I've also taken the liberty to glance through her curriculum from the Jerusalem Preparatory Academy. It's no secret that they're at the forefront of elementary magical education, and to be honest, a lot of what she was teaching those nine and ten year old's is roughly equivalent to our current curriculum," Horace explained, his voice betraying just how impressed he was. To his right, Filius was nodding in agreement.
Minerva remained unmoved. A moment later Horace shook his head and sniffed lightly.
"Granger's a remarkable teacher, Minerva, I'll tell you that honestly right now… no bluffing or posturing on my part. The witch is a natural. And despite the rather… prickly conversation we held this morning, I know that she genuinely enjoys it."
Minerva was curious at his wording - prickly? - but filed it away for later. Before she could respond, however, her colleague was passing a small green bottle across her desk, it's contents suspiciously wispy and see-through.
"What is this?" she asked curiously, restraining her immediate impulse to take it and hold it up to the light.
"A memory my friend gave me. He sent it as soon as he found out I would be advocating for a place for her. She came in to give a workshop at his school in Tel Aviv. Either way, I think you should watch it later… it's, rather inspiring," Horace said, giving the bottle a rather fond look.
Odd.
Nothing about this conversation was normal, though, and Minerva found herself tucking the bottle into a desk drawer and drawing one hand to her temple. She did have to admit that it sounded like a promising arrangement. And if there is a possibility she's interested in Horace's position…
Well.
Don't count your dragons before they hatch, Minerva.
One glance at Horace indicated her friend's ailing condition and while she had felt guilty for saddling him with such a heavy workload, there simply hadn't been anyone available to step forward and help out. No one to her high-standards, that was.
But… Minerva thought distantly, ignoring the small flame of hope that had sprung forth. This may work…
Miss Granger's current class schedule would undoubtedly suffer, however. Even thinking through the logistics in her head, Minerva knew that the witch would have to skip several classes and meet her professors outside classroom hours.
But it could still work… a hopeful voice trilled in the back of her mind. And perhaps she could take your class one-on-one...
Squelching the thought, Minerva sighed and coolly regarded the two wizards opposite from her.
"Very well, I shall investigate this matter further. I leave it to you to explain to your colleagues the potential difficulty they may soon encounter if Miss Granger's schedule should need to be rearranged. They must agree to accommodate her beyond class hours if she is to succeed in both endeavors," she said carefully, eyeing Horace with a raised eyebrow.
The glance he shared with Filius in response seemed to indicate his high level of confidence in the willingness of his colleagues. Though, if Minerva was to be honest, she knew the other professors would be just as eager to work with the witch one-on-one as she.
Before the wizards could gloat in earnest, Minerva held up a cautionary hand.
"However, I make no secret that the final decision is up to the Board of Governors. If they find any conflict of interest here, things will have to remain as they are, is that understood?"
"Yes, ma'am. Thank you for hearing me out." Horace rose with a groan and gave her a gruff nod.
"Filius," he nodded to her Deputy who gave a smile in return.
Waiting until the stout man retired from her office, Minerva turned to find her Deputy uselessly trying to cover a smile.
She frowned.
"Minerva, the arrangement is a wonderful idea, you have to see its potential," Filius said enthusiastically, propping one elbow on his chair as he grinned at her.
"Filius, while it seeks to serve our interests, I have to doubt the veracity of how it will help Miss Granger's," she replied carefully. Already, there was a niggle of guilt.
"She clearly wouldn't have sent her CV if she didn't want the opportunity," he replied quickly, one hand gesturing slightly. "And though it will disrupt her schedule, I very well imagine it will be more comfortable for her to see to a number of her classes in the form of private tutoring. Already it is clear how difficult it will be for her to engage with her current peers."
He does have a point there.
"While I don't disagree with you, Filius, there is also the possibility that Miss Granger has returned from Hogwarts to… take a break from her recent activities," she replied, hearing the tinge of worry color her own tones.
Her Deputy opened his mouth to protest when a third voice cut in from above.
"You are forgetting, Minerva, that the witch is a Potions Master."
Minerva and Filius both turned in surprise as Severus' portrait suddenly spoke up, his silky baritone falling into the room with familiar grace.
"Knowing Miss Granger's lineage, keeping her from the dungeons is a surefire way to guarantee her failure here at Hogwarts. She will not be able to resist her own calling. Leaving her to her studies without allowing her the freedom to brew and teach… it's unthinkable. This current proposal has the potential to combine the best of all worlds," he said smoothly, black eyes managing to glitter down at the both of them in the form of careful oil strokes.
Minerva raised her eyebrows. Severus is the last person I would have chosen to advocate on Miss Granger's behalf.
"Aren't you sworn to conceal the secrets of your Society?" Filius asked in surprise.
Severus glared in response.
"I believe the exact wording of the Oath warned of an untimely death should I have betrayed it..." he drawled, pausing for effect, "I hardly believe I should be concerned."
The droll response elicited an amused chuckle from Filius and a disbelieving sniff from Minerva.
"Forgive me, Severus. But does this appear to indicate that you approve of Master Granger?" she asked smoothly.
"I never indicated she wasn't still an insufferable swot, if that's what you are implying," he snapped quickly. A moment later, the portrait shifted its black robes and settled back against its high-backed chair to regard them quietly.
"But if you are looking for assurances that the witch is qualified, I assure you that she is. No one leaves the Abrahams anything short of a veritable master, in the most complete sense of the title. They have only accepted four apprentices. Ever."
She and Filius both sat back at that.
"I suppose now makes five," Severus mused quietly, a spidery hand rising to stroke his chin thoughtfully.
"The Abrahams?" Minerva blurted in surprise, suddenly connecting the name drop.
"I see you are aware of the family's reputation," Severus replied, his lips curling into a smug expression as Filius' brow furrowed in confusion. "I imagine you speak of the family's eldest who has long since departed Jerusalem and has garnered a rather… impressive reputation in your own Society, if I am not mistaken?"
Minerva's cheeks flushed as she steadfastly ignored the surprise on Filius' face. She sent a glare toward Severus. Damn him for making me slip!
Sighing, she returned her focus to the desk and shuffled a few parchments ineffectively.
"Thank you for your input, Severus," she replied after a moment. "Your advice was most helpful."
The portrait gave a solemn nod before suddenly disappearing, slipping out of his frame now that his duties to the Headmistress were concluded. Minerva felt a familiar thrum of guilt sweep through her as she turned back toward Filius.
It remained unspoken that neither of them knew Miss Granger's true motivations for returning to Great Britain… and if Minerva's intuition held true, she already surmised it was a much larger matter than either of them realized. She only hoped that the young woman would remain safe within the castle's walls for the time being.
I wouldn't be surprised if the Wizengamot has something to do with this...
"Fortunately for you, the final decision is not in your hands," Filius reassured gently, already reading into her expression with well-practiced diligence. She gave a small nod.
Smiling, Filius flicked his wand and the chair deposited him gently onto the rug as he poked his head around her desk to regard her one last time with raised eyebrows.
"I will see you at dinner shortly, my dear," he said as she nodded her assent. His blue robes momentarily disappeared as he strode behind the desk that was too tall for her to see him over. He reappeared, gliding toward the door with his familiar jaunty gait.
Minerva sighed and pulled out a blank parchment. Well, this letter to the Board isn't going to write itself, she thought resignedly.
"Oh, and Minerva?"
She looked up to see Filius paused with his wand at the ready.
"I suggest you meet with Miss Granger again… sooner rather than later, perhaps," Filius chuckled. She lifted a dubious eyebrow as he flicked the door open.
He turned to give her a wink.
"I have a feeling she has more surprises in store for the lot of us!"
Another swirling gesture and he was gone, the heavy oak door clicking into place with resounding finality.
Minerva exhaled a long breath she hadn't realized she had been holding. Her eyes fell upon the witch's expertly organized CV and unknowingly, her rose lips curled into a soft smile.
"I don't doubt it."
Gliding down the dimly lit hallway, Hermione was struck by how little the castle had changed and how drastically different a person she felt.
It was only a few hours after dinner and there were a number of students walking through the corridors as she made her way down several flights of stairs toward the basement floors.
Charms and Arithmancy had been her only classes of the day and beyond her revisions, she had spent the majority of her time reading ahead in her other courses.
As expected, much of the material was simply review to her - a natural byproduct of other texts she had absorbed in the course of her first Apprenticeships, though Hermione had been pleased to note that the standard of texts the Hogwarts professors employed was as high as she remembered.
It gave her confidence that she wasn't embarking upon a new mission for naught.
If she could see her plans through from start to finish, she could easily imagine herself establishing her own place within these same halls… working to educate future generations of witches and wizards in a manner that she hoped would have the potential to eventually dissolve the ridiculous restrictions of the Ministry.
"If not for you, then for your children," she whispered sadly, running a heavy hand along the uneven castle stone. Her boots echoed a sharp staccato on the polished floors, resonating through the corridor in a manner that increased her momentary wave of loneliness.
Sitting through all of her classes would be difficult, she knew.
Hermione understood intrinsically that while she had indeed absorbed a great amount of practical knowledge in her years abroad, she would need to excel above and beyond her fellow seventh year peers... for her own satisfaction, of course... but also to live up to her reputation that still persisted as having been the "brains" of the annoyingly dubbed Golden Trio.
Undoubtedly the Ministry would seek to use that title against her. Fortunately for her, not only was that a goal she was happy to fulfill... but it also sought to entwine itself into a separate goal.
One of a more personal nature.
Smiling briefly, Hermione allowed herself to retreat inward as she walked. There would be time enough to figure out how to approach that goal soon enough.
Intuitively she knew that her feet would carry her to her final destination without needing to focus all of her attention upon it. Besides... walking through the castle was still a bit surreal.
It was so strange to be surrounded by the familiar school robes and carefree people… and yet to constantly encounter unfamiliar faces.
Everyone she passed seemed so young. Bright, innocent faces with inquisitive eyes.
The majority of gazes she met were curious or slightly intimidated. A few haughty or jealous, perhaps, but for the moment no one had attempted to approach her.
That suited her perfectly fine.
From the snippets of conversations she was hearing, Hermione felt herself marvel at the easy comfort of everyone's lives.
There was talk of Quidditch and classes. Gossip amongst fellow students. Homework questions and hastily muttered asides as she passed… such simple concerns. No talk of Darkness and mysteries lying in wait to be unraveled. The concerns of the future were simply that - distant thoughts too far away to be real.
Despite herself, Hermione tried to ignore the other remembered faces that attempted to superimpose themselves upon the children she passed.
For that's what they were… children.
Lives she had worked to protect.
And yet, somehow behind their carefree images… the memories still remained.
Her own remembered reflection… the young faces of Harry or Ron.
And then there were the ghosts.
Fred Weasley. Colin Creevey. Lavender Brown.
A bittersweet melancholy fell over her and for the first time since she had returned, Hermione allowed herself a moment to acknowledge the maelstrom of emotions roiling just below her serene exterior.
Yes, beneath all the turmoil she was still pleased.
It promised to be a bumpy ride, but she felt confident in her decision. She had bought herself precious time while Kingsley and his godforsaken Registry Department seemed content to let her be for the moment.
The classes would be what they were, and the proposal from Slughorn offered a potential outlet that would allow her to continue developing her skills as an educator. Taking a deep breath, Hermione worked to dispel the bubbling combination of hope and doubt as her mind shuttled through stray possibilities and unknown variables.
"Calm down," she chided herself quietly, "It's still the first day, after all,"
Looking up, her gaze momentarily flashed over the high arched windows of the Fourth Floor corridor and Hermione recalled the sound of shattering glass… hastily screamed instructions, spells flying, the resonant booms of falling rubble...
A group of rowdy Ravenclaws passed next to her and immediately, Hermione felt herself stiffen and slide back into her pleasant and serene exterior. A few of them cast her wary looks and she simply smiled politely in return, unwilling to engage despite one or two curious glances.
As their footsteps faded away down another corridor, Hermione sighed.
It seemed that she had underestimated just how surreal her return would be emotionally…
She was not the same witch who had roamed these halls nearly five years previous. She couldn't count those horrifying hours during the Final Battle nor the subsequent summer months of repairwork - the castle had borne little resemblance to the comforting fortress that she remembered from childhood.
The students she passed remained oblivious. The majority of them had not experienced the terrors of battle, though undoubtedly a number of their lives had been affected by War.
Hermione had grown up too quickly in comparison. That much was entirely certain.
That simple fact was what had driven her to leave the country and seek solace away from the memories of the War and its trauma… away from the prying eyes of the public who sought to elevate her and her friends to some sort of golden pedestal. Away from the sorrows of lost family and friends - lives ended too soon and the inevitable regret and questions of survivor's guilt…
And away from her own personal demons that threatened to tarnish the respect and confidence of her closest confidants…
It had not been a form of running away - Hermione had wracked her mind for months to disprove that notion and she was assured that had never been her intention. No, no, no. For starters, the Gryffindor within her would have never allowed it.
No. Despite everyone's preconceptions and expectations, she had found an alternative way to heal.
Sniffing wryly to herself, Hermione felt her lips curl into a soft smile as she descended another staircase - whispering a quiet assurance to the protesting wood that she would shortly be back to play as promised.
There was no use living amongst the ghosts of the past.
Rebuilding herself had been one of the most challenging and arduous tasks she had ever undertaken, but to her own surprise - Hermione discovered that she felt more than prepared to grab a hold of her life and fight for her beliefs and dreams in earnest.
It would be nearly as challenging an arduous as the past four years, but the lioness within her was primed and ready.
What better time than the present?