The Pitfalls of Being an Insufferable Know-it-all

Nineteen

I'm not sure I had ever written up an incident report with so much light-heartedness before. Naturally, it was not the chizpurfles that made me light of heart. Still, it was all pervading. I might have smiled a tad too widely at the boss the other morning; certainly, I felt he'd done a double-take as I'd walked into the office a tad tardily, too.

He could throw as many chizpurfles at me as he wanted, I felt.

Of course, the potency of my cheeriness diminished somewhat as the days ticked over and my stomach dropped slightly when he ordered that I supervise a de-gnoming at the garden of an elderly witch who could no longer manage the task herself.

Supervise, I thought to myself with derision.

I watched his retreat and felt sure that one day, somehow, I would have the last laugh.

We travelled out to a small village in East Sussex via Portkey. The old lady greeted us warmly with offers of tea and biscuits, respectfully declined, of course. I will admit to enjoying this aspect of the job — that is, getting out from the office and meeting people. There was a lot to be said for the variety one could experience.

During my first few de-gnoming tasks I had tried to engage the gnomes in friendly discourse to see if they might not leave quietly, rather than have to swing them about and throw them— something I, even now, struggle to accept. The only things I achieved, however, were to become a laughing stock amongst my colleagues and to gain a scar across my palm where one gnome bit me.

Sometimes, on these visits, people would recognise me. I think they often looked at me as though I'd fallen on hard times, but I have to work, I always told them with a smile. People have short memories, mind, and in the ten years or so after the end of the war, it was mentioned to me less and less.

Mrs Sedgwick of East Sussex, recognised me for a rather different reason, however.

As I surveyed the garden, with a view to advising her how best she might prevent the gnomes from returning, she approached me.

'Hermione Granger, you said your name was, didn't you, dear?'

I smiled at her. 'I did.'

'Did I see your name in the Daily Prophet some weeks ago?'

I felt my interest piqued now. 'That is correct — I was involved with a study into the magical flora and fauna in this country.'

She nodded. 'I thought so. I wrote a letter to your department three weeks ago in response. I had an acknowledgement letter telling me it would be looked into, but I have heard nothing since. I wonder if you know anything?'

'What was your correspondence regarding?' I asked kindly.

'It was about the goings on in there.' She pointed to woodland that bounded one side of her garden. 'I first noticed them several months ago — spotted them by chance from my upstairs window. Two men carrying something. I thought nothing of it, until I saw them again. I go to sleep early, you see, dear, and I often wake up in the early hours. I make myself a cuppa and then drift back off. Every two weeks, usually on a Sunday, I see them.'

I glanced over to my colleagues, to ensure they were not within earshot.

'They are not Muggles?'

'No,' she shook her head vehemently. 'They carry brooms, sometimes. They use their wands to light the way, too.'

'And what makes you think it is something we should look into?'

'I hear them wailing — the Augureys. I thought they only did that when it rains.'

She wasn't entirely correct on that score, but nevertheless, it was an intriguing point, and any lead was worth following.

'Mrs Sedgwick, if you would like to give me the details, I will ensure it is looked into.'

Before we departed, she pressed into my hand a piece of parchment which detailed the date and time of the sightings of the suspicious men. There was only one thing I could think of to do with this information and that was, naturally, to share it with my associate.

That evening, after leaving the Ministry, I Apparated to Edinburgh. The door to the Society was unlocked, but the reception desk in the foyer was empty. I thought about waiting to see if anyone would materialise, but then settled on simply taking my chances. I rushed up the stairs, hoping to avoid an encounter with anyone other than Severus Snape. I paused outside his door to listen for any sounds of talking within. There was none, so I rapped on the door sharply and held my breath.

The handle clicked and I pushed the door open. He was sat at his desk scratching at some parchment with a quill. His eyebrows lifted slightly when he saw it was me and his quill ceased its movement. At the sight of him I felt myself smile inwardly.

I came to a stop in front of his desk and waited expectantly.

'Well?' he prompted at my silence, leaning back in his chair.

I felt my eyes narrow suspiciously. 'I'm just waiting for a sarcastic comment regarding my hasty and unannounced visit so soon after our last… meeting.'

He made as if to speak, but I held up my hand to forestall him.

'Wait… I'll do it for you.' I considered for a moment. 'Couldn't get enough so you're back for more already, are you, Granger?'

He has the deadpan expression down to a fine art, so I could not tell whether he was amused or not. Eventually, he frowned slightly and said blithely:

'I think you may have me confused with someone else.'

I had to concede that one to him, yet again. I pulled out the chair with a resigned chuckle. 'Well, the actual reason for my visit tonight is business, not… you know…'

'Pleasure,' he helpfully supplied, no doubt trying to further extricate the blush that I felt warming my cheeks.

I gave him a look as I reached into my robe for the parchment off Mrs Sedgwick. I unfolded it, placed it before him, and proceeded to explain what the old lady had told me.

'Friston Forest was not part of my sample, but there is no reason why there could not be Augureys living within it.'

He nodded thoughtfully. 'I have not been in that forest, either. Presumably, you wish to place tracking charms within it?'

'Possibly... But also, I thought we might make use of Mrs Sedgwick's garden…'

There was an indecisive look on his face.

'According to Mrs Sedgwick's observations, they could be due to visit this Sunday morning.'

He pushed some of his hair away from his face and contemplated for several moments. 'To what end? After the debacle in the Forbidden Forest we need to be more careful.'

I nodded in agreement. 'I don't want any confrontation, of course, but what if there's a chance of identifying someone?'

He didn't look particularly convinced. 'And this Mrs Sedgwick — she is agreeable to this?'

'I believe she will be, yes.'

'Fine; but don't bring my name into this. I'll just remain a nameless colleague.'

I nodded equably, feeling the thrill of the chase come upon me once more. I noticed he was watching me rather appraisingly so I folded my arms defensively in readiness.

'Something you would like to add?'

'What if Mrs Sedgwick accidentally lets slip to the Ministry about your extra-curricular activity?'

'I've told her to contact me in the future, if she has any concerns… I admit it's a risk, but it's one I'm willing to take.'

Before he could reply, we were interrupted by a tapping at the window. The window cracked open and in hopped an owl bearing a missive. It was dropped onto the desk, following which the owl swooped off.

Even I could see the Hogwarts wax seal from where I was sat.

He snatched up the letter and, after glancing at the handwriting on the envelope, he gave a dismal sigh. 'What does she want now?' he murmured as he ripped it open.

'Merlin,' he continued, scanning the parchment, before flicking it derisively at me. 'Minerva is one hundred years old.'

I felt my eyebrows rise as I picked up the letter. It was an invitation to celebrate the moment of her one hundred years.

'No doubt you have received one?'

I shook my head. 'Not that I'm aware… Although I haven't been home yet.'

'Well, never fear,' he commented dryly. 'I can assure you the guest list will almost exclusively be golden Gryffindors.'

There was something of a faraway look on his face.

I tilted my head thoughtfully. 'One wonders, then, how it is you came to be on such an illustrious list?'

I received a glare, which I was supremely satisfied with.

He also tilted his head thoughtfully. 'Of course, some of her former Gryffindor charges are not quite so… luminous, anymore.'

His look was pointed and I wasn't sure what he was getting at, until he actually started chuckling to himself — a low quiet laugh, but more of a real laugh than I had ever heard from him.

'Poor Minerva would never see much further beyond her one hundred years if she knew what you'd been up to, Granger.'

Immediately, my cheeks lit up and I shifted uncomfortably in my chair. The look on his face was one of fond imagining.

His shoulders shook with a few more moments of amusement. 'Actually, this event could prove to be quite entertaining.'

'You wouldn't tell her?' I blurted out incredulously.

'Oh, but I thought we might arrive together?'

At the false innocence he was displaying I turned away with a resigned shake of the head. 'You are hard work, do you know that?'

He only looked pleased at that, I noted ruefully.

Despite myself, I found myself hoping there was not a grain of truth buried within his words. I could not fail to remember that he had a vindictive streak. Not to mention the enjoyment I thought he took in being somewhat of a divisive character.

He knew the direction of my thoughts.

'Relax, Granger — who would ever believe me?'

I felt myself smile at that. 'True,' I concurred.

'You may rely on my discretion. It may be yours, however, that is found wanting.' He picked up his quill to continue with whatever it was that I'd interrupted him doing. 'Confirm Mrs Sedgwick's permission and I'll see you Saturday night.'

Summarily dismissed, I got to my feet. I thought about telling him to call by whenever he wanted, but I hesitated over it too long. I wondered if I would sound a little too eager. Truth was, though, anything was going to sound eager next to his effortless aloofness.

And what did he mean regarding my discretion? Did he think I would tell my friends about the two of us — what we'd done? It was highly unlikely, I thought. There was nothing and there would be nothing to tell. I could keep that part of me from them, I hoped. I did not entirely understand it, so how on earth could they?

I returned home with rather mixed feelings.

I had a sinking feeling that despite my decree that I was visiting purely on business, I had hoped for something rather less business-like to have occurred. Did I now expect all our encounters to go the way of the last?

Perhaps not, but it was the not-knowing that annoyed me — the not-knowing if he would ever make a move. I might sit there, watching him, and feel that I want him, but conversely, he might sit there and feel he could take it or leave it.

Presented to him on a plate, well, yes, he very might well take it. He was a man, after all. Yet, unsolicited, maybe he wasn't as interested as I might have wished. And then my thoughts would come full circle and I would think, well, what did it really matter? The point was, it didn't matter.

Not right then, anyway.

There was a letter from one Minerva McGonagall awaiting me on my return home. I considered it circumspectly. I would go, of course.

The following day, during my lunch break, I returned to East Sussex under the pretext of following up Mrs Sedgwick's complaint, which, actually, wasn't very far from the truth — except that I wasn't following it up in my official capacity.

The old lady proceeded to show me exactly the window from which she had spotted the intruders. From there, I went out into the garden. There was small outbuilding that could be modified to afford a useful view of the edge of the forest.

Before departing, I advised her firmly that on no account was she to leave her house whilst we were there. Admittedly, I felt somewhat apprehensive as I left her, but convinced myself that this was only an observation exercise. There should be no untoward repercussions.

Saturday dawned and dragged inexorably. I tried to get a few hours' sleep in the afternoon, knowing I wouldn't be getting much in the night. It was a pointless task and I ended up resorting to reading, instead.

I was relieved when darkness finally fell and, eventually, there was a knock on the door.

In he walked. 'I hope this doesn't prove to be a waste of time, Granger,' he warned in greeting.

'Got better things you could be doing, have you?' I answered derisively, without even giving him the courtesy of a look.

'Better than hiding out in some old biddy's garden at a god-awful hour? Yes, I have.'

I didn't respond; instead, I set about loading up my bag.

'I've no doubt you will make it worth my while, however.'

I stilled at that, feeling I could not have mistaken the suggestion in his delicate tone. When I turned around, though, his expression betrayed absolutely nothing.

'Indeed,' I replied slowly, putting the bag down on the table before him. 'And that is why I've made you a flask of coffee and some sandwiches.'

He gave a disdainful glance between me and the bag.

'Was it not very generous of me?' I smiled.

His deadpan expression didn't budge. 'Let's just go, Granger.'

I had a feeling that on arrival in Mrs Sedgwick's garden his grumpiness might not necessarily abate. I was right. When he saw the small building to which I headed towards, I heard a small sigh and a muttered 'Merlin,' under his breath.

'What did you expect?' I hissed behind me.

He said nothing. Admittedly, it was dark, cold, and the shed small and cramped. It was also full of gardening implements and all manner of unidentifiable objects. Using a somewhat muted glow from my wand I instructed him to transfigure two chairs, which he actually managed without complaint.

Of course, I was not surprised to see he'd conjured me something far less comfortable than his own. It was lucky for me I could not fully detect the smirk I knew he'd be wearing in the dark. I sat down and proceeded to charm a large window in the elevation facing the forest, ensuring also that the glass was only one-way. I extinguished the glow from my wand so that we sat in darkness, but for the faint glow of moonlight through the window.

'You could have just said, you know…' he began languidly into the darkness. 'I feel this all might just be an elaborate ploy just to get me alone.'

I bit my lip to prevent a smile, even though he wouldn't have seen it.

I leaned over and whispered in his ear. 'This is business, remember?'

My eyes were beginning to adjust in the darkness and I could make out his pale countenance now. He shifted in his chair, bringing his feet up to rest on the bench in front of the window.

'Get the coffee out, Granger.'

'No.'

'Why not?'

'Not until you ask properly.'

'Fine; get the coffee out, Granger, please.'

'No.'

'What…?' He heaved a sigh. 'Get the coffee out, Hermione, please.'

'Certainly, Severus,' I replied, reaching for the flask.

Into a flowerpot-transfigured-mug I poured the coffee and handed it to him.

'Thanks, Granger.'

I laughed quietly. 'I knew you were going to say that; you're getting a bit predictable, you know.'

I was glad not to be able to see his answering expression to that sort of recklessness.

'Bloody cheek,' he muttered to himself.

We sat there for some hours, alternating between companionable silence and idle chat. Admittedly, the idle chat was all on my part. I'm sure he could have sat there in indefinite silence, but I, of course, could not.

At around one o'clock, just when I was beginning to think we might have had a wasted trip, I spotted small glow moving into the trees. I leant forward and clasped the arm of my companion. 'There!' I whispered, feeling the hair on my neck stand up. There were at least three shadows moving in the moonlight.

He sat up to watch the figures disappear into the forest, after which we just looked at each other. There was no need for any words between us — he knew what I was thinking just as much as I did he.

His mouth set into a hard line. 'Do not wander off,' he warned in a low voice, getting to his feet.

Triumphant, I followed him out quietly. I don't think either of us really knew what we hoped to achieve, but similarly, we both knew we could not sit idly by. We moved carefully beyond the edge of Mrs Sedgwick's garden and to the trees of the forest. The moon still shone, and we did not dare to employ any further means of lighting our way. We had to keep therefore to the edge of the forest where the trees were less dense, and to hope our quarry would likely return the way they had come.

Using a large tree for cover, we halted and awaited any unusual sounds. How long we stood there behind that tree, I can't be sure. All I can recall is the fact I hardly dared to breathe. Eventually, we started to hear the sounds of approaching footsteps and the tones of muted voices — too low to make out anything audible.

Suddenly, I felt the clasp of Severus's hand on my upper arm. I stared up at him and he leaned down to whisper in my ear. 'Get ready to Apparate us out of here.'

I watched, confused, as he peered slowly around the tree. At the sound of a murmured spell, I also peered around the other side. At that moment there was a sound of a loud stumble and one of the figures fell to the ground.

'Be careful, will you!' muttered a voice.

The person who fell scrambled back to their feet, hissing loudly. 'I am! I don't know — I must have tripped!'

I recognised that voice, as no doubt did my companion.

'There's nothing there you clumsy oaf!'

I turned at that, thinking it was time to get out before they became too suspicious. I grabbed my companion's arm and Apparated us into my living room.

When the world stopped spinning we looked at each other speculatively.

'Nice work,' I said, pleased.

He inclined his head. 'Well, now we know what our next move will be — back to Cresswell. I think we need to get into his house.'

'OK… When shall we do it?'

'We?' He frowned. 'We will not do anything; you will leave this to me.'

I scowled at him and folded my arms. 'Not this again…'

'Yes, this again. I'm telling you now, Granger, do not go bothering Cresswell without me.'

'But it's fine for you to do it without me?'

He glared at me. 'Yes it is.'

'Right…' I rolled my eyes, flinging my bag onto the floor and tearing off my cloak. 'What exactly do you propose to do to stop me? Give me detention?'

'Don't be facetious; it doesn't suit you.'

'Well, don't be obnoxious.'

I took my bag over to the kitchen table and started unpacking it.

'I'm not being obnoxious,' he said softly. 'I can afford a slap on the wrists if I were to be caught. You can't; you have your future to think about.'

I spun round ready to issue a rebuttal, but his sudden proximity caused me to falter. I looked up to find his eyes were full of intent. He took the opportunity to put a hand to my jaw, whereupon he smoothed his thumb gently over my bottom lip. I found I had to look away, but he lifted my chin to force my eyes back to his. When they were, I was almost mesmerised by the combination of his light touch and warm gaze.

I say almost mesmerised, mind.

I reared my head back from his grasp, put my palm onto his chest and nudged him slightly, feeling a disbelieving grin form across my face. 'You would try to seduce me into compliancy, would you?

The innocent rise of his eyebrows was undone entirely by the amused and apologetic smile he could not contain.

I let out a laugh. 'Unbelievable! Think I'm that pliable, do you?'

'No…' he said weakly.

'You do!' I exclaimed with another laugh.

He shook his head. 'No, I don't…'

'I don't believe you.' I looked at him pointedly.

He studied me for a moment and I began to feel a sense of anticipation. 'Are you that…pliable?' he asked in a low voice.

I nearly said yes, but I found the strength not to. 'Perhaps you ought to determine that for yourself?' I quirked my eyebrow and forced myself to brush past him and out of his way.

I knew I was trying to prompt him into initiating something. At his ensuing silence, however, I wondered whether I might be left disappointed.

'You're remarkably forthright…' he said eventually.

'Is that a posh way of saying I'm bossy?'

I couldn't quite hide the derision in my tone as I busied myself pouring a glass of water. How many times had I heard that before? I thought resentfully.

'Actually, Granger,' he answered, a little irritably, 'it simply means you are forthright — you know, direct, frank, blunt —'

'All right!' I interrupted ruefully. 'I get the point.'

'It was not meant as a criticism.'

I felt myself smile inwardly with relief. I turned to him. 'Oh… I think that's a total of two compliments from you now.'

'Careful you don't get complacent won't you?'

I laughed. 'I can assure you, complacency is not an option where you are concerned.'

There was somewhat of an awkward silence, then. Even I couldn't think of anything to say. So instead, I occupied myself in taking down my hair and started trying to untangle some of the knots I'd acquired throughout the course of the day and night. I was starting to feel the effects of such a long day and felt I could not continue this repartee much longer. I would not prevail upon him to stay.

Of course, he was no stranger to being forthright, either; in certain circumstances he just needed a nudge here and there. And this was to be my final nudge of the night.

'I will accompany you to Cresswell's cottage,' I announced airily. 'I can keep watch if nothing else.'

He came to stand behind me. I felt his hand close around mine, whereupon he removed the comb from my grip and set it down.

'You will not accompany me to Cresswell's,' he whispered. He scooped together my hair, placing it over one shoulder. I thought he might intend to kiss my neck, but ignoring the tingle of his fingertips, I spun around out of his grasp.

'I will come with you.'

'You will not.'

'I will.'

His look was maddeningly unfazed, but took on an edge as he stepped forward, an edge that I recognised with foreboding.

'I hope your determination stems not from any... lingering doubts over my dealings with our esteemed Cresswell?' His hand reached out to my waist, so that we stood close together. 'Indeed, I hope you are not thinking I wish to cover my tracks? It could all fit very nicely, if you think about it.'

My stomach dropped. Those doubts had not entered my mind, but now that he had mentioned them, I felt momentarily uneasy as I remembered my previous suspicions about him. He watched me closely, but he was obviously greatly amused to wrong-foot me. There was that glint in his eye.

I'd resolved to trust him and I was not going to waver from that. I could not waver from that, for my own sake.

'And now you are thinking,' he continued speaking almost against my hair, 'that you must relent in order to demonstrate your stubborn beliefs and stout confidence in your own judgements.

He was right; I felt my eyes narrow at such unerring perspicacity.

His free hand now moved my hair behind my shoulder and he brushed his thumb at my neck. 'You know how very hurtful those doubts were to me, of course.'

I almost smiled at the complete lack of any hurt in his tone. The only thing I could hear in it was knowing calculation.

He kissed me then, for which I was grateful. It was only swift, but I was grateful, because I could read any number of things into it. He could be undeniably calculating with words, but I never felt those intimate touches were ever calculating. They always felt real.

I reached my arms up to his shoulders, as if to return the favour. His arm around my waist tightened reflexively, but I did not kiss him straightaway.

Instead, I peered at him. 'How is it you know my mind so well?' I asked him simply.

I was not necessarily thinking of Legilimency when I asked him that question. I knew my own mind was not unguarded in that sense. There was no accusation; it was simply an honest question that I expected there might not necessarily by an answer to.

But he did have an answer to it. And he did not answer with offence, for he had read the intent behind my question well.

There was a moment during which I could see the deliberation in his eyes, and then his voice came out in a murmur.

'We are the same, in many ways, you and me.'

I think this was the moment I fell in love with him. I didn't know it at the time, of course, but, after much reflection, I recognise it as being this moment.

What I understood at the time, however, was something rather more uncomplicated. I felt my breath seize in my throat and I felt a voracious heat surge through me at the idea that he and I were on some form of shared footing and that he had recognised it. Of course, that it should have elicited in me such a physical response does not surprise me. It was what I wanted and what I had been at pains to cultivate. Nothing else really mattered then.

The real implication that would not yet dawn, though, was that I'd finally found it. I'd found a meeting of minds; a shared empathy; an innate connection; a mutual understanding — someone who saw me for me.

Whether I knew it or not, it was what I'd been looking for my whole life.

But it would be a while later before I would have to fully consider where it left me.

AN: Thanks so much for the kind comments that have been left! : )