It had been a little less than a week since Hermione received a letter confirming her interview time at Hogwarts. Since receiving the initial offer, she'd been preparing for the meeting for several hours each day, considering any possible questions or topics McGonagall might throw at her. She'd even convinced Ron to hold mock interviews each evening when he returned from work, despite him considering it to be unnecessary. "Hermione, you've got it in the bag! Can't we just play some Wizard's Chess?"
The sun was high in the sky as Hermione walked through the small village of Hogsmeade. She'd apparated there late that morning to cram in some last-minute studying with a tea at Madam Puddifoot's. Her interview was to be held at five o'clock sharp, meaning that she needed to be somewhat quick in her journey to Hogwarts. Somehow, she'd lost track of the time while rehearsing classroom management questions, even with a stomach full of restless butterflies. McGonagall would surely deduct points for tardiness, so she needed to hurry.
As the Hogwarts castle slowly peaked over the hilly horizon, Hermione's heart filled with the warmth of returning home from a long journey. The school looked absolutely magnificent amidst the sloping lawns, dense forestry, and glassy waters of the Black Lake. It looked nearly identical to its wonderful appearance during her time as a student, save for a few remaining damages in need of attention. To the Muggle eye, it would probably be quite scary-looking but to Hermione, it was only beautiful.
Pulling a small pocket mirror from her trusty handbag, the witch held it before her for a final hair-check before entering school grounds. For special occasions, she always relied on a bottle of Sleekeazy's Hair Potion to tame her unruly curls. Sure enough, the concoction was upholding its promise to smooth her locks, so she returned the mirror to its place before entering Hogwart's main entrance.
As Hermione passed through the wrought iron gates, Minerva McGonagall stood about thirty meters away, gazing upon her former student with welcoming eyes. "Ms. Granger. What a pleasure it is to see you again."
"Hello, Professor," Hermione nearly cried, the emotions of seeing her beloved teacher consuming her. "It's so good to see you, too."
The two entered the castle immersed in a spirited, much-needed conversation. McGonagall asked Hermione about life at the Burrow and whether she planned to continue her S.P.E.W. efforts, while Hermione asked all about the process of rebuilding the school. The younger witch quickly noted that McGonagall's characteristic sternness had been replaced by a relaxed, almost carefree attitude. Perhaps the woman allowed herself to let loose a little during the summer holiday.
"Your interview will be held in my office," McGonagall explained, directing Hermione into the circular moving staircase. "I expect the others have already arrived."
Hermione gulped, not having expected company beyond the witch beside her. She hadn't a clue of who else might be in attendance for her interview, but the prospect of answering questions before a panel of wizards sounded horrendous. How had she failed to prepare for such a circumstance?
"Montrose Magpies," McGonagall spoke clearly to the familiar gargoyle standing guard. It stepped aside obediently for the correct password, granting the witches entry to the office. Hermione's entire body tensed as she entered the grandiose room. Even the stress of her O.W.L.s was incomparable to the nerves she was experiencing then.
"Calm down," she murmured desperately to herself, her professor now beyond hearing range.
"Come along then," McGonagall called warmly, taking her seat between the two additional presences. Hermione entered, giving her best effort to appear relaxed and confident. She walked across the room toward the single chair facing McGonagall and the others, careful not to trip over her own feet. However, as soon as her gaze connected with a familiar pair of dark, penetrating eyes, she involuntarily froze in her tracks.
"Ms. Granger," the man acknowledged her, words laced with cool indifference. "Please, have a seat."
Hermione clenched her teeth, disallowing her jaw to drop at the sight of a very-much-so alive Severus Snape. She had heard that the professor made a full recovery since the war, but seeing him upright and perfectly conscious still surprised her. The last time she'd seen him, he had been drenched in his own blood and passed out cold. Even after stabilizing him, she wasn't confident he'd ever be quite the same.
"You haven't seen Severus since you saved him, have you, Ms. Granger?" McGonagall inquired, recognizing the obvious bewilderment in the young woman's eyes.
"I haven't," Hermione confirmed, finally taking a seat before the trio of wizards. "It's great to see you, Professor Snape."
For a moment, the man appeared surprised by her genuineness, perhaps expecting her to be disappointed by his survival. However, since his true loyalties had been revealed in the Pensieve, Hermione had regained her respect for the man. In fact, since learning of everything he endured as a double agent for the Order of the Phoenix, her respect for him had actually increased.
Appearing quite lost for an appropriate response, Snape simply nodded and began scribbling on a piece of parchment. He seemed quite eager to get on with the interview.
"It's Mathilda Sweetleaf. A pleasure to meet you, dear."
Hermione turned to the small, unfamiliar witch seated in the chair to McGonagall's right. She was quite pretty and likely around the same age as Snape. "I'll be teaching Muggle Studies," she explained sweetly, tucking a loose blonde curl behind her ear.
"Hello," Hermione responded warmly, recognizing Mathilda to be the least intimidating of the trio of interviewers. The witch had likely undergone the same interview process and surely had a bit of empathy for her.
McGonagall pushed her emerald spectacles to the bridge of her nose, gazing down at a thorough list of questions and topics. "Shall we begin, then?" the witch asked, her usual composed demeanor finally emerging.
Hermione took a breath and nodded.
"Excellent," McGonagall chimed, searching her list for an acceptable place to begin. "Let's see how well this institution has truly prepared you, Ms. Granger."
Thank you for reading! Please leave a review or favorite as it's what fuels me to continue writing this story.
On another note, I have yet to officially disclaim HP as my own. Obviously, I do not own Harry Potter or any of Rowling's wonderful characters. One can dream, though!