The Pitfalls of Being an Insufferable Know-it-all

Three

I wasn't entirely sure what to make of my meeting with my former teacher. Oh, I knew very well what to make of it with regard to his perception of me, that was very plain, indeed. I was an irritant.

What was less clear was the implications of what I'd learned from him. I didn't know what to think about his approach to the issue at hand; and I'm not sure I agreed with his taking matters into his own hands. I had doubts about his effectiveness as a deterrent towards those who were caught bending and breaking the rules.

That's right: I doubted the man who had one of the most daunting reputations in the country. I don't mind admitting I get things wrong occasionally.

By the end of the day, however, I would have reason to entirely rethink my assessment of him, our conversation, and many other things, in fact.

He was reading my analysis, whilst I sat on tenterhooks. When he finally finished , he rolled up the parchment and placed it carefully before him on the desk. He settled back into his chair, supporting his elbows on the arms and lacing his hands together. It was then it occurred to me I'd forgotten this aspect of his character—the fact that he never does anything in a hurry. There's something almost eerie about his detachment, at times. I felt quite sure that if the fire in the grate could have exploded up the walls and started burning the down the room, he would have casually got to his feet and strolled out to safety as though walking through a field on a sunny day. It's behaviour that is very hard for someone like me to reconcile. I'm not very patient; I'm very eager and fervent… Probably overly so, if you asked anyone else.

So, whilst he sat there, cogitating at length, my hands were wringing beneath the desk with impatience.

'Have you a quill?' he uttered finally.

'Um…' I rooted in my bag for one, irritated all that prevarication had been rounded off with something so mundane. 'Yes,' I replied, holding it out to him.

'For you; you may want to copy some of this down.'

Stupid girl, seemed to hang in the air unsaid. I flushed painfully and hurriedly reached for my parchment.

'In the instance of the decreased density of Monkshood, in the region of the Cheviot hills, there is nothing nefarious for us to be concerned about.'

'How do you know?' I asked, a bit too quickly, clearly, because he gave me a look that could curdle milk.

'Consider for a moment, Granger, if it's not too much trouble, these minor little facts. One: Monkshood, Wolfsbane, Aconite, whatever you want to call it, is native to regions the world over. Two: it's possible for it to be grown under controlled conditions. With these in mind, what possibly is there to be gained by rooting up the plant for sale on the black market?'

He stared at me and I let his words digest uneasily in my stomach, clenching my jaw at having opened myself up to such an easy shot.

'You turn up down the pub looking to offload a bulk of Monskhood and, I assure you, you'll be laughed right back to where you came from.'

'I see,' I said tightly.

'The Cheviots are one of the most popular areas for harvesting Monskshood, it's true, as the species is a quality one. The ground has no doubt become damaged, eroded, over time, and therefore, the plant is not growing back in a sustainable fashion.'

Oh God, the sigh of frustration I let out at this point has haunted me for a long time since. 'Surely this was to be expected?' I posed, thinking at the time this was the opening for me to begin fighting fire with fire. 'Surely it is logical to vary the harvesting at this particular site, in order to allow the habitat to replenish…'

I could have said more, but the look on his face stopped me in my tracks. I can still picture it clearly… Although, that may be down to the fact I have had reason to see it many times in years gone by.

'Do you know what entity in this country consumes the largest quantities of plants such as Monkshood?'

I forced myself to maintain eye contact with his blazing look. 'No,' I admitted stiffly.

'St. Mungo's,' he revealed with an undeniable trace of relish. 'And who, I ask you, is ultimately responsible for them?'

He smirked triumphantly and got to his feet, giving me ample opportunity to lower my head dejectedly and grimace to myself. The answer, of course, was the Ministry.

'Don't they teach you people to think, these days?' he muttered, and I could imagine his ironic smile without having to see it. 'Have you bloody well even seen the site in question?' he asked.

He was looking through some files as I, somewhat miserably, replied that I had.

'Then you'll know, Miss Granger, that it's plainly impossible for your average potioneer or even apothecary to leave this sort of damage on an area as big as that in question. However, St. Mungo's mass-produces pain relievers and markets them on the basis that the Monskhood used is one of the best quality anywhere in the world. That certainly is big business.'

'I was brushed off when I enquired about St. Mungo's,' I admitted grimly. 'My understanding is that there is only special dispensation to harvest wild plants in extenuating circumstances. Otherwise, they are supposed to cultivate it themselves.'

I'd appealed to the Department for Health for information regarding the practices at St Mungo's. What I'd received in reply clearly had been tailored to fob me off for as long as possible. I sighed and threw my quill down.

He returned to his chair and I thought I detected amusement in his expression. And maybe I was cowed then, because the desire flashed through my mind to throw in the towel. It's never very inspiring to be faced with closed doors at every turn and such indecipherable personalities as the man before me had.

But, of course, I was not going to give up as easily as that. Failure has never been something I've dealt with easily. I can try and be as philosophical about it as I like; never stops me tormenting myself over it for weeks after, however.

'What… What about the others? The Augureys and so on… ?'

I thought maybe a change of topic would aid me in regaining some ground. Before he could answer, though, there came a knock on the door.

'Yes?' Snape called.

It was Ridley. I gave him a small smile of unease, but he took hardly any notice of me.

'There are reporters from the Prophet outside, Severus. They won't go away until they've spoken to you.'

I groaned inwardly and tried to make myself as insignificant as possible in my chair, not wanting to bear another one of his irate looks, as I felt must be due me again.

He didn't glare at me, however. I heard a little huff of irritation and then he said, 'Thank you, Theo.'

He then looked over to the large clock that hung on the wall and frowned slightly. 'I'm afraid we shall have to reconvene this discussion at a later date, Miss Granger. I must make preparations to travel to the Ministry without getting cornered by those idiots outside.'

I hadn't forgotten about his meeting with the ministers. Besides, there'd been a big mention of it in the Prophet this morning.

'Very well,' I answered equably, secretly grateful I'd have a chance to regroup. I collected up my parchments and folders and stuffed them into my bag. I was just preparing to stand when I realised he was looking at me in a manner that was very assessing and calculating. Discomfited by it, I raised my eyebrows questioningly.

He plucked at his cuff and folded his arms. 'I should like this discussion to remain between us, for the present.'

'… Why?'

The self-satisfied smirk that appeared around his mouth was fleeting, but I definitely saw it. 'Oh, let us say something about too many cooks and leave it at that.'

I nodded, feeling I understood where he was coming from, but time would only prove how completely incapable I was of understanding the true meaning of anything this man said.

When I returned to my office, my boss didn't even bother asking where I'd been. I could see him in his office, looking slightly frazzled. I also recognised a few faces from other departments congregating in there, all with some degree of frown marking their features. It seemed to me no wonder Snape appeared to be unconcerned about the imminent meeting with these luminaries. I could imagine them all in there, discussing their best way forward without causing too many ripples. I wasn't sure whether to be disgusted by such sycophancy, or be impressed that Snape commanded it in the first place.

With regard to this consultation which was soon to take place, was it presumptuous of me to imagine I would be in on it? As the primary force who'd brought this matter to light, I felt it went without saying. Was this arrogance? I don't think so. I think it only reasonable that I felt such a level of ownership over the matter, and that I, subsequently, desired to be at the fore of its development.

It may not have been arrogance, then, but it was certainly naiveté on my part. When the boss came out of his office (and pretended not to see my expectant expression) I said hurriedly, 'Sir? What time is the meeting?'

He halted, probably kicking himself for not having made a speedier exit, and turned to me. 'Ah, yes, Granger, there you are. It, uh, starts in fifteen minutes, but it's heads of department only, you know.'

My mouth fell open in outrage, but before I could verbalise my indignation, he smiled and said:

'Get that Puffskein incident from last week looked into, will you? There's a good girl.'

And then he hurried off to the nearest lift. I stared after him, seething to myself, and then had to suffer the amused expressions of those who'd witnessed the exchange. Therefore, it's possible that I flounced back to my desk, but I like to think I showed a little more decorum than that. When I got there, I sat for several minutes, just cursing to myself.

But as my initial ire began to lessen, I decided I was going to be at that meeting, or at least, to hear it. Why should I be blocked from it? This was my project. I did not trust them with it an inch. I quickly wrenched open my bottom drawer and pulled out a couple of Extendable Ears, shoving them into my robe.

'Going on my break,' I announced to no one in particular as I departed, heading for the lift.

I knew they'd be using one of the conference chambers. There were four situated along a passageway down in the bowels of the Ministry, and were, I knew, all connected by inner doors. I headed there quickly, and as I rounded the corner, saw the last few bodies file into the largest chamber at the far end of the corridor. I won't deny that I felt a little ridiculous at my actions, but still, I think I was enjoying it, nevertheless.

I quickly stepped towards chamber next door to the meeting and slipped inside. I crossed immediately through the darkened room to the wall separating the chambers and found the connecting door. I felt sure it would be locked, but I didn't dare test it, in case someone on the other side noticed.

I settled down on the floor and strategically placed one end of the Extendable Ear under the door—pushing it under as far as I thought I could get away with. The other end I clasped tightly in my hand and listened.

'Thank you for coming, Mr Snape,' said a voice I didn't recognise. 'As you know, concerns have recently been brought to light regarding the fate of certain plants and animals in this country. We are looking to allay the fears of the public and would be grateful for your assistance in this matter.'

'Indeed; so sorry about this Severus. I hope this hasn't inconvenienced you too much. Regrettable business, really…'

I scoffed to myself silently.

I tensed expectantly when I heard Snape speak next.

'I have colleagues capable of carrying on where I've had to leave off,' he said calmly. 'I'm sure you'll agree though, gentlemen, this could have been handled more effectively. My being dragged into this, I'm sure you'll appreciate, has given much cause for… schadenfraude from some of my international contemporaries.'

I wasn't sure they'd all know what schadenfraude meant.

There was a clamouring of murmurs; what I took to mean they agreed wholeheartedly.

'This hasn't done reputations any good, it's true. We have found the leak,' put in my boss. 'One of Granger's team got tempted by a few Galleons, it seems.'

I tried not to gasp too loudly. Nobody had bothered telling me this!

'This would be… Hermione Granger, yes?' asked Snape pensively. 'One might wish Miss Granger could pick her colleagues more prudently in future. Indeed, one might even question her role in this, in the first place. Seems to me to have been a great responsibility for a… What is her position, precisely?'

My insides contracted in disbelief and I hardly dared breathe.

'He's got a point, Bertie,' piped up one of the Minister's assistants. 'I thought we'd told you to watch what you put her onto after that trouble we had with the house-elves.'

'Er, well, I never thought anything would come of it,' my boss, Bertie, stated defensively.

'Couldn't you have kept an eye on her progress? If we'd known of this earlier we could have—'

'Nipped it in the bloody bud.'

'Right.'

'We can't ignore what has been found, however,' put in a brave voice.

'If we are to have confidence in the results, then no, we cannot.'

This was Snape again, and I stared unseeingly into the darkness, unable to grasp what was going on.

'Well, what is your opinion?' My boss asked him.

'It is my opinion we cannot base policies on the basis of one survey. I see that past data used for a comparison is ten years old and, at best, sketchy. Certainly, I think the damage to Monkshood numbers in the Cheviots has been over-estimated and blown out of proportion. However, this is something you should maybe address to… St. Mungo's. Wouldn't you agree?'

There was silence.

'I think it would be foolish to rush into action when we cannot even be sure of the accuracy of the findings,' commented an unknown voice. 'Needs to be investigated over a period of time to show us a proper pattern.'

'Don't let me influence you, gentlemen, but might I suggest employing specialist persons trained in research to conduct your studies in future?'

Snape's smooth voice, as it travelled through my Extendable Ear, was now making me feel sick.

'Should we go to someone outside the Ministry?'

'I'm not sure that we should—'

'The public would love it. They'll have more confidence—'

'And what if we don't like what they find?'

'The main thing is it'll take the heat off us, and, anyway, you know all this will be forgotten about by most, Bertie. Today's news is always tomorrow's chip paper. Something else will come along for them to get up in arms about. And if we have to, we'll just bury the results under other news.'

'We're doing something; they can't complain about that.'

The meeting started to wrap up then, and in order to prevent myself from bursting through the door and screaming at them, I snatched up my ear and took to my heels. I walked in blind anger through the passages, hardly knowing where I was going. When, however, I felt my eyes start to sting, I pushed my way into the nearest toilet and shut myself in.

I breathed steadily, determined I wouldn't allow myself any tears, but it was the one time when I felt this might be the undoing. That this might the one time when I could not rise above the opinions of others and carry on unchanged. No one in that room had showed me any support or confidence, and not even I'm hard-headed enough to be unaffected by that.

And what had I done? I'd only ever tried my best.

I thought of Snape and how comprehensively he'd humiliated me. He was clearly playing a clever game; humouring me and then deftly misdirecting the Ministry behind closed doors. And they were self-serving enough to go along with it.

I couldn't even tell them about my off-the-record discussion with Snape that morning. Who would take notice, or even care. And Snape, I knew, must also realised this.

I splashed water on my face and cursed the lot of them. All of them; all so trite and predictable it was disgusting.

Well, I knew. I knew what they were planning. I knew Snape was playing a two-handed game.

I knew; and regardless of how crushed I was at that moment, I knew I would not back away from it.

I Summoned my bag from the office, and when I had it, I marched right out of the Ministry. If anyone bothered asking, I'd say I'd gone home ill. As it was, I had work to do.

AN: Thanks for the comments : )