The Pitfalls of Being an Insufferable Know-it-all

Twelve

I like to think it was we decided, but, in actual fact, he decided I was to visit George Cresswell. I was to call upon the old man, unannounced, and try to fish for information. I was to gain his trust by sharing some of my doubts about Severus Snape's professional practice and integrity.

I tried not to agree with too much relish, but his eyes had narrowed at my ready acquiescence nevertheless.

And there I was, standing outside of the home of George Cresswell, and praying to anyone who might be listening that I could go back with something useful to our cause. Eager to impress to the very last, that was me, and that was without everything else I had riding on my success.

Breathing deeply, I knocked briskly on the door and was rewarded soon thereafter when the door opened.

'Mr Cresswell,' I greeted pleasantly. 'Please forgive me for disturbing you, but I wondered if you'd be agreeable to answering a few questions?'

He opened his mouth, protesting. 'Not you, again.'

'It's about Severus Snape,' I interceded quickly.

'What about him?' he asked suspiciously.

I adopted a conspiratorial look. 'I have reason to believe he may be implicated in the illegal trafficking of Augureys, and maybe more. I'm investigating the matter, you see.'

Snape had given it to me on good authority that Cresswell was no Legilimens. I dared not to dwell on the provenance of this… authority. Even I knew when not to ask questions, sometimes. I schooled my expression to be as blank and as convincing as I could.

'You'd better come in.'

It was only with a small stab of trepidation that I passed over the threshold. I'd also had it on good authority from Snape that Cresswell was not to be feared. I would have cut my own tongue out before allowing any hint of unease to pass my lips.

It was a rather charming little cottage that Cresswell lived in, and as I glanced around, I wondered whether it was the fruit of his ill-gotten gains.

'I've been thinking about what you said to me the last time we spoke.' I perched on the edge of the sofa he gestured at. 'I have been making my own enquiries, you see, and I have discovered, amongst other things, that Snape has been at pains to remove all record of his previous Augurey research. To my mind, he has done it to distance himself from being considered an expert in the creatures.'

'Why should I talk you?'

'Because he needs to be stopped. They all do. I think you have been caught up in matters beyond your control.'

There was a look of scepticism on his face.

'I can put in a good word for you at the Ministry —'

He interrupted me with a bitter laugh. 'Bugger the Ministry,' he scoffed. 'What if Snape finds out I've talked to you?'

'What if he does?'

'Do you not remember the last time? Who knows what lengths he'll resort to a second time around!'

I paused for a moment. 'You... maintain he attacked you that time?'

'Yes!' he exclaimed vociferously. 'Why would I lie?'

'But…' I trailed off with confusion. 'Are you quite sure?'

'I think I'd know who punched me in the face!'

I wasn't sure what to say for the moment. After Snape had denied his involvement, I'd assumed, we'd assumed, Cresswell was just stirring the proverbial. Just being a nuisance.

'Do you have evidence?'

I rather thought this would fox him. How could he possibly provide evidence — incontrovertible evidence? He studied me for a moment and what he did afterwards sent a chill of foreboding down my spine.

He conjured a glass phial and put his wand to his temple. 'Do you have access to a Pensieve?'

Vaguely aghast, I nodded.

'This is all the help I'm giving you. We all know what that man is capable of – what he's done. I've no wish to risk his wrath any further.'

I was unceremoniously ushered outside, clutching the phial tightly in my hand. I stood and simply stared at it, trying to prevent my mind from racing off in all sorts of directions. This certainly wasn't how I'd anticipated the conversation to have gone. There was a sinking feeling that washed over me as I considered that maybe I had been duped after all.

There was only one thing I could do. I Apparated directly to Grimmauld Place and rapped on the door rather more forcefully than was warranted.

Harry appeared at the door and smiled widely. 'Hermione! This is a surprise!'

'I need a favour.' I stepped into the hallway at his invitation. 'Listen, do you still have Dumbledore's Pensieve?'

'Of course.'

'May I borrow it?'

'Yes… Hang on…'

He disappeared up the stairs and returned momentarily with a small shrunken down object. 'Is everything all right, Hermione?'

'Fine.' I smiled as genuinely as I could. 'Just a work thing; nothing major.'

He nodded, but I could tell he wasn't entirely convinced. 'If you're sure.'

I took my leave as politely as I could and returned to my house. Without even taking the time to remove my cloak, I enlarged the Penseive and tipped the phial into it post-haste. The contents hadn't finished rippling before I had dipped my head in.

I watched the scene that played out before me with a keen sense of horror and disgust. I'd arrived in the middle of an argument. I was inside Cresswell's cottage and the man himself sat cowering in his chair whilst Snape paced before him, reminding the old man with a hissed threat the consequences of his loose tongue.

Cresswell did not accept these threats quietly. He leapt to his feet and launched a barrage of vitriol at the dark man before him, the like of which I'm not sure I want to repeat here. From there, it all happened very quickly. Suddenly, Cresswell had his wand in hand, but as quickly as he'd moved, Snape had disarmed him within seconds. With a furious cry of indignation, Cresswell launched himself at his quarry, his arms outstretched as if to grab his opponents throat.

This time, he did somewhat have the element of surprise. They both fell against the wall, and Snape's wand slipped from his grasp. Physically, Cresswell was no real match against the younger of the two, and I felt Snape could easily have wrenched the man from him. Instead, however, he twisted his whole body and used the momentum to swing his fist into the face of his attacker.

There was a sharp cry followed by a dull thump as the older man crumpled to the floor.

From there the memory faded into nothingness and I straightened out of the pensieve. For a good while, I simply sat there. There was a part of me that now wondered how on earth I'd become mixed up in all this — what on earth had I become mixed up in? Just when I thought I knew where I was, something kept materialising to throw everything wide open again.

I glanced at the clock above the fireplace. Snape himself was due to call that evening with a view to hearing of my meeting with Cresswell. I wondered whether I should show him the memory, or whether I should keep it to myself. I paced up and down my living room impatiently, deciding that, no, I could not sit on this.

On the face of it, Snape was playing both sides.

But… Could it really be so?

Instinctively, I thought not. I always wanted to think the best of him, I couldn't help it. But it frustrated me, because there was also a part of me that lacked a certain self-assurance — a lack of confidence that made me afraid I could be duped. Uncomfortably, I knew that my instincts in this matter might prove to be superfluous. The man had consistently fooled better minds than mine in the past, after all.

My deliberations led me only one way, however, and I decided if I could not trust my own instincts, then what would I have left?

Nothing.

I worked myself into what I hoped would appear to be a seething anger when he arrived. (It wasn't difficult — just thinking of a liquorice wand incurred a potent reaction within me).

'Good evening,' he said.

'We'll see…' I looked at him with a hard gaze.

He merely raised an eyebrow. When, however, he stepped in and saw the pensieve on my kitchen table he halted and stared. There could be no doubting he recognised that particular pensieve, of course.

'Go on… Have a look.'

He opened his mouth to speak, but I forestalled him. 'Just look.'

His mouth set into a hard line, but he did as bidden. And as he did so my unease increased somewhat at the game I was playing. I knew not what I would do if it proved that I had chanced my arm wrong. I wanted these recurring misgivings to be curtailed once and for all, and it seemed to me this might shortly be the case. To what end remained to be seen, and, thinking I should err on the side of caution, I withdrew my wand.

When he straightened up and turned to me, I heeded gratefully the open look of disbelief. Still, he was Severus Snape, I thought, and I'd need more to go on.

'Tell me right now what the hell is going on.'

He ignored me.

'Explain now what it is that you and I have just witnessed!' I ordered forcefully.

He took notice of me then. It was a mark of his surprise that there was none of his usual cool poise. Indeed, anger flashed across his countenance and I was reminded suddenly of the Professor Snape that I remembered. Far from being intimidated, however, I felt a thrill.

'Are we really doing this again, Granger? Are you really being this dense?'

I stared at him obstinately.

'You think I'm so stupid as to go around threatening and punching people whenever I feel like it?'

'That was you in his memory – what am I supposed to think? It fits.' I held my breath in anticipation.

'Fits, does it?' he whispered, taking a step towards me.

Instinctively, I raised my wand and his eyes flicked to it.

'You'd draw your wand on me, again, would you?' He still did not draw his, I noted.

'There's something going on here and I don't like it.' I lifted my chin to indicate my vehemence.

He stepped forward again. I think he was trying to push me into using my wand, or at least to reveal that I was undecided as to what I was going to do with it.

'I thought you said you trusted me?' His eyes blazed a little, and I think it was this which sealed it for me. He could have dismissed me out of hand, but it seemed to me I had spotted a trace of offence, and in his shock, he had forgotten to hide it.

Despite having learned all I needed, I found myself pressing on, a little spitefully, perhaps.

'Give me a reason why I should not take this information straight to the Aurors?'

His lip curled in contempt. 'Who are you to call into question my integrity, hmm?'

'I call it as I see it, Snape, and I don't like what I see.'

He was glaring and I matched it brazenly. What I had failed to account for, though - there being only inches between us - was that his proximity might have a frustrating impact upon me. I have a feeling that had I really believed he was guilty, I might have felt my resolve weaken regardless.

'I did not attack Cresswell,' he enunciated slowly. 'Now put your wand down.'

'Or you'll do what, exactly?'

Uncomfortably, I forgot to inject any form of threat into these words; indeed, I fear they came out rather more as an invitation. Evidently, he noticed, for his eyes flicked to my wand and his eyebrow twitched.

'Put it away, Granger,' he demanded after a moment.

It was with relief that I did so, and I took the opportunity to move away — his softly delivered demands resonated within me in a way I felt was barely appropriate.

His jaw unclenched at the action and despite the fact I was satisfied with the resolve I had already reached, I hesitated over my next words, wondering if I would ever live to regret them.

'You are being framed, then.' I stated simply. 'Quite comprehensively, it would seem.'

'So… good of your brain cells to join us.'

I smiled to myself. If only he had known what my brain cells really were up to, especially as the most traitorous among them were, outrageously, wondering what it might have been like if he had leaned down, closed the gap between us, and kissed me.

His eyes narrowed when I failed to register any pique at his remark, and I hurriedly blinked away the haze. I cleared my throat, hoping he had not divined the direction of my thoughts. The embarrassment from that would surely have finished me off, once and for all.

I sat down on the settee. 'So, Polyjuice, then?'

'It would seem so.'

'Who? How?'

'Why?' he muttered darkly.

He sat down, but I was surprised to see his whole posture was marked with uncertainty. His head was bowed as he contemplated his hands.

'I don't think Cresswell is part of the charade — he was convinced it was you.'

He said nothing – just continued his contemplation.

'If it's not Cresswell, then who? Who else out there would have a grudge against you?'

He slowly raised his head to give me one of the most sardonic looks I have ever had the misfortune to see. 'Are you seriously asking me this, Granger? Really?'

I bit my lip, recognising the foolishness of my remark. He had alienated a whole generation of witches and wizards at Hogwarts, and that wasn't even allowing for everything else he'd done in his life.

'I can give you a list of suspects that's longer than one of your old Potions essays.'

I stilled, and then as I thought about my old Potions essays, and indeed how long-winded they'd been, I couldn't help but start laughing. It was a few chuckles at first, but when I clocked his look of affront, I think I may have cackled.

'Think this is funny, do you?' He questioned tightly.

Tears sprang to my eyes and I swiped at them. 'It could be anyone!' I exclaimed incredulously.

I just knew he was forcing his stoicism. He wanted to laugh as well, I could tell. It pleased me. As my chuckles subsided with a few deep sighs, I fell back against the settee and closed my eyes, feeling as though I hadn't truly laughed in a long time.

'It could be you.'

My eyes flew open and I was startled to see he was on his feet in front of me. I sat up straight. 'Me?' I scoffed.

'Why not? It all… fits.'

I leapt to my feet immediately. 'Are you saying I'm mixed up in Augurey trafficking? That's laughable!'

'It's a nice house you've got here, Granger… Never realised the Ministry paid so well.'

I goggled at him. Indeed, I must have gaped like a fish, opening and closing my mouth in the hopes that some words, any words, would issue forth. How could he think I could ever be involved in something so repulsive?

And then I noticed the upturned corners of his mouth and the slight crinkle at the corner of his eyes. I could have stamped my foot in frustration.

'I should hex you, do you know that?'

'I'd like to see you try.' He smirked once more and then his humour slipped away to be replaced with a frown. 'Whilst we may enjoy a little poke at my expense, the fact remains this is rather serious for me.'

He began to pace a little in front of the fire.

'We don't know who is behind this and we don't know what their intentions are. Do they wish to blackmail me at some point? Or do they simply wish to discredit me? If it is the latter, then my career could be over within minutes.'

He halted and his gaze was directed to the carpet, and I imagined he was lost in some imagining where it was announced that Severus Snape was caught up in a smuggling ring, and no amount of denial would suggest otherwise in the doubting minds of the public. There would need to be hard evidence to disprove any such accusations.

He was worried, if that is a term I may apply to him. Ironically, after all the consternation he had roused in me through his superior self-assuredness, I found I preferred it to this apparent indecision. Indeed, I rather thought if he didn't know what to do, then what chance did anyone else have?

I stepped over to him and, without thought, put my hand to his arm. I certainly caught his attention for his eyes flicked immediately to my hand and then to my face.

'It's rather serious for us,' I clarified. 'I'm determined to get to the bottom of all this, and, if I have to save your skin whilst I'm doing it, well, so be it.' I shrugged my shoulders with mock long-suffering.

He turned to me fully. 'Save my skin?'

'Yes.'

For a moment he did not say anything; not until I was just about ready squirm under his contemplation. 'Judging by your previous behaviour,' he began, 'I rather think I should be wary of being shopped to the Ministry by you.'

I allowed myself a smile. 'My mind is made up… but I had to first consider all the options, you understand.'

'Oh, naturally.'

I smiled wider at his sarcastic tone. I was pleased because I interpreted it as confirmation he was irritated by my perceived mistrust. And that meant that I could have been wrong and my opinion of him did matter to him in some small way. His look became rather searching as if he was unsure what my smile should signify. My smile faltered when I belatedly realised how close to him I'd insinuated myself and that I still had a hand on his arm. Uncomfortably, I looked away and dropped my hand uselessly back to my side.

The lightest touch of a finger under my chin caused me to lift my head in up in surprise. He studied me intently, and I nearly shivered, despite feeling suddenly rather warm.

'Tell me how you will save my skin,' he murmured softly.

My cheeks burned immediately, much to my chagrin. I thought to say something, but even if I could have thought of anything, my chest felt as though it was in a vice and no breath to form words would come. There was only one thing apparent to me — that I should now very much like him to kiss me. It seemed to me in that moment that he might want to kiss me, too.

I could have done it. I could have closed the gap between us and the consequences be damned. But I was transfixed, and so maybe, was he. In the end, it didn't matter, because I doubt even a few seconds had gone by before we were interrupted out of our abstraction.

At the sound of Harry Potter's voice calling my name, you may imagine the speed with which we sprang apart. It was only his Patronus, however, delivering a message to me, but I'm sure I did not imagine the look of deep disgust on my companion's face as he took in the stag before him.

'I'll leave you to it.'

'Hang on!' I called, but in a flurry he was gone.

I contemplated the silver stag for a moment, but couldn't decide whether I was grateful or not for the intrusion.

My irrepressible practicality won the day, of course. I was Hermione Granger, I reminded myself; I do not kiss men I barely know. I do not throw caution to the wind. I do not walk blindly into unchartered territory.

And so, I eventually settled on grateful — for the most part, mind.

AN: Thank you for the kind reviews : )