Kingsley Shacklebolt arrived just minutes before the Opening Feast, the graveness of his expression promising unfortunate news. Minerva's oversight of the meal was inarguably necessary, so instead, Severus walked with the Minister to an empty classroom, preparing himself for another report of violence. Sure enough, two more attacks against Muggle-borns had occurred within the day.
"They're gaining momentum, Severus. We've lost thirteen innocent wizards, and the thirty-two others involved barely escaped with their lives," Kingsley reported, eyes wide with unbridled fear. "The attacks are becoming larger and more frequent. They're becoming confident."
Severus nodded, expression unreadable. "The inevitable is finally occurring. It was only a matter of time before Lord Voldemort's ideologies reemerged."
"Unfortunately, I agree. In the last few years, the Ministry has received immense backlash from pure-blood supremacists for its progressive reforms. These attacks were not unexpected but sadly, the severity and suddenness of their occurrence were."
Severus gazed through the window at the incoming mass of students. "These attacks will be receiving media coverage, I presume?"
"Yes," Kingsley confirmed wearily. "We can no longer continue to cover-up them up. Our world must know of the dangers it's facing."
The following morning, Severus quietly traversed the Hogwarts grounds as the sun peeked over the Forbidden Forest, its rays casting a golden veil over the dense greenery. The chaotic song of hundreds of chirping birds filled the otherwise silent air, and a thin layer of dew sparkled atop the grassy, sloping hills. The tranquil atmosphere brought much-needed solace to the man following his troubling discussion with the Minister of Magic the previous evening.
In a few hours, students were to be beginning their classes, undoubtedly with highly preoccupied minds. The front page of the incoming The Daily Prophet was to be dedicated to a full-coverage of the neo-Death Eater uprising, meaning that students would soon be hearing of the attacks for the first time. Severus sighed, knowing all too well that he could expect to accomplish nothing in his classes that day.
Having returned to the castle from his spontaneous stroll, Severus climbed the wide marble staircase toward double doors of the Great Hall. With plans of enjoying a quiet breakfast before the arrival of students, he was surprised to see the headmistress and a distressed-looking Hermione Granger already immersed in deep conversation at the High Table. He assumed that Minerva had taken it upon herself to personally deliver the news of the attacks to the younger witch, allowing her time to process the information before the imminent chaos. Not wanting to involve himself, Severus resorted to grabbing a coffee and pastry to-go, exiting the hall as quickly as he'd arrived.
As he walked the cold, stony corridors of the dungeons, Severus recalled the brief exchange he'd shared with his former student the previous evening. On behalf of his tardy arrival, he'd been forced to sit next to her in the only open chair for the remainder of the meal, much to his initial discomfort. Intending to endure the meal in silence, he found that his plan required adjustment when the seething witch nearly ripped his head off for ignoring her.
"Typical Gryffindor in need of attention," he'd thought exasperatedly. He was, however, surprised to find that she was quite tolerable to chat with. Perhaps the best method for dealing with the woman, rather than completely disregarding her, was to pretend as though nothing ever happened between them. All he needed to do was carry on living as though she hadn't actually saved him that night. Hermione Granger was simply a former student, his colleague, and nothing more.
With a feeling of satisfaction, Severus entered the large dungeon designated to his Potions classes, taking a seat at his desk to organize and prepare several stacks of course syllabi. While he did not look forward to a day of redirecting his students' attention from the incoming news, the relief of having a plan for dealing with the bothersome witch was enough to keep him at ease for a bit.
Hermione watched from her desk as a crowd of flustered first years entered her classroom. Unsurprisingly, various discussions of neo-Death Eaters and attacks against Muggle-borns filled the air with a nervous sort of energy. It would almost certainly be a battle to keep them focused on anything Transfiguration-related: a battle she wasn't willing to fight.
"No need to take any books out," Hermione stated as a few front-row students started flipping through their copies of A Beginner's Guide to Transfiguration. "I believe a conversation is in order."
Hermione stood before the class of young Gryffindor students, gaze full of seriousness. "I'm sure you have all read The Daily Prophet. Yes, there have been several attacks against Muggle-born witches and wizards in recent months. It is true that the ideologies of Lord Voldemort are resurfacing in the form of violence, and it is almost certain that these attacks will only increase."
Every child watched her with wide eyes, likely shocked by her frank acknowledgment of the news, or perhaps her unabashed use of the dark wizard's name.
"As students at Hogwarts, you are fortunate to have the protection of some of the greatest witches and wizards alive," Hermione continued, her gaze lightening with the words of assurance. "Wizards like Minerva McGonagall, Filius Flitwick, Pomona Sprout… and Severus Snape."
Suddenly, the hand of a small boy looking close to puking shot into the air. "Professor, why hasn't the Ministry sent the attackers to Azkaban? After all this time, shouldn't they have caught them?"
"Unfortunately, this isn't a finite group of wizards we can punish and do away with," Hermione explained, having expressed the same thought to McGonagall that morning. "While the Aurors have succeeded in capturing several attackers, new perpetrators continue to emerge by the day. There is no way of knowing how quickly or rapidly the neo-Death Eaters are growing in numbers."
Several students turned to each other, frightened whispers about the professor's grave response filling the air. Hermione knew she needed to harness the panic, and quickly.
"While I cannot promise that things will not grow worse in the coming days, I can promise that each of your safety has been and will continue to be made a priority here," the witch expressed confidently. "I understand that this is scary, but as Gryffindors, it is our duty to inspire courage and bravery at this school."
Hermione watched as the mention of Godric Gryffindor's most valued characteristics shifted the attitude of almost every student present. Some of the most fear-stricken children now embodied the determined strength of the founding father or at least made a valiant effort to do so. No one wanted to risk being called a cowardly Gryffindor.
Hermione grinned knowingly, having suspected the words to be potent.
"Brilliant. Now that that discussion is out of the way, allow me to introduce myself," she declared warmly, surprised that they might be able to get some work done after all. "I am Professor Granger, and for the following year, I will be teaching you the magical art of Transfiguration."
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