Back with another chapter! I'm trying to stick to posting on the weekends. The next few chapters are already written, so expect Chapter 6 next week. Thanks to the lovely CMDRHill (JaneGlen) on AO3 for beta reading this chapter.
August 1999
Back in her rooms, Hermione finally had the opportunity to organize them. It was a fairly typical suite for professors, as she understood it, with a small sitting room, a bedroom, and an adjoining house elves had done an amazing job, leaving everything warm and fresh smelling, but her books remained unpacked. She also wanted to see if she could figure out what was wrong her fireplace, which was not connected to the internal Floo network. Organizing her room also gave her the opportunity to organize her thoughts, particularly in regards to the returned Potions master.
When Hermione had seen Severus sitting in the faculty lounge, she had thought that she was imagining things. With the exception of his trial, she had not seen him since the Battle of Hogwarts when he had been bleeding out on the floor. Seeing him that afternoon made her feel like she had been dropped on her face. They made eye contact briefly, but he gave her a blank look and turned away. Even as she chattered on with the other professors, she felt stung. He had not even acknowledged her. The blank look he had given her was a far cry from the look she had seen when she had knelt beside him in the Shrieking Shack. She had fumbled in her bag, pulling out all the potions and treatments that she had been saving for Harry, and she had done her best. Did he not remember?
Their encounter later that evening had been equally odd, if only because she was now on a first name basis with him. She, who had always insisted that Harry and Ron use the title of "professor" to show respect. On the subject of Harry and Ron, she wondered if they had heard yet. Surely Remus or Tonks would have said something. From the way that entered the room, it was clear that they had been expecting him. Or perhaps not. After all, she had not even known that Remus and Tonks would be her colleagues. In any case, she would tell Harry and Ron everything next time she saw them. They were supposed to start Auror training that week, and she was sure that they would have loads to tell her too.
She heard a hissing sound punctuated by a yelp. As she opened her door to see what was happening, she heard a meow and looked down as Crookshanks sauntered into the room. Now that he was back at Hogwarts, he had been given reign of the corridor, which he patrolled for the chance to scare Mrs. Norris. Looking rather pleased with himself, he settled on the edge of her sofa.
"Now don't you start anything, Crooks," Hermione said firmly. "You don't want to get into any trouble with Filch."
Crookshanks yawned and flicked his tail.
The next few days passed in a whirlwind. Hermione was thankful that she had decided to visit Hagrid the day she arrived, even if it had meant forgoing a proper dinner, as there was simply no time after that first day. She was either planning lessons, talking to another professor, or finding herself saddled with additional responsibilities. None of which she particularly minded, but all the same she was worried at the rate that her schedule was rapidly filling. Starting in September, most of the week would be devoted to class. Then of course there was the grading, planning, nighttime patrolling, Hogsmeade chaperoning, and Quidditch matches. She silently wished Lavender good luck with her additional Head of House duties.
Hermione had some other projects of her own however. Remus had quietly taken her aside and asked her if she would be willing to brew the Wolfsbane that he would need every month. Of course there was no way that she would ever refuse such a request, even if it did eat away at her already limited free time. At this rate, there wouldn't even be time for reading, let alone seeing Harry or Ron or anyone else. If she was lucky, she might be able to visit Remus and Tonks at their flat in Hogsmeade to see Teddy.
Her "free time" was hardly that though, as she spent nearly the entirety of it studying and planning and worrying and starting all over again. Her parents were still in Australia, and she didn't how or when or if she would explain what happened to them. After all, weren't they happy now? They had no child to worry about, and while Hermione knew that her parents loved her very much, surely their happiness was not tied up in a daughter that they did not even remember existed. On the other hand, was this not everything she despised: Taking away the element of choice from those incapable of defending or speaking for themselves? She did not regret her decision to send them away. Their safety was the only thing that she had any surety of during her time hunting for Horcruxes. But, she feared what their reaction would be to learning what their own daughter had done to them. She had not decided whether it would be better to be forgotten or rejected.
Her private reflections were taking somewhat of a backseat to a more pressing matters, namely the other Hogwarts professors. It turned out that Hermione had a lot to learn about her new colleagues. On the last day of August, Minerva requested that Hermione come by her office. She did so, wondering what she could possibly need to speak to her about. Perhaps it was about Transfiguration. She read a few additional chapters from her books just to be safe.
Minerva looked very serious as she sat behind her desk, and Hermione's hopes of an invigorating intellectual discussion diminished. Minerva offered her some tea, but did not say anything else.
"Have I done something wrong?" She asked when Minerva continued to give her a speculative look.
"Something wrong? Heavens no! No, Hermione, I wanted to know your opinions on gambling."
"Gambling?"
"Yes, I did not know if you had any moral or religious objections."
Hermione shook her head.
"You are aware of the other professors interest in the inter-house Quidditch championship that occurs every year, I trust?"
And this is how Hermione learned exactly why so many professors were highly invested in the Quidditch Cup. They bet on everything. For Merlin's sake, the students had not even returned to Hogwarts yet, and there was already a betting pool about what new members would be added to each team! What had shocked her the most was that Minerva McGonagall was the ringleader of the entire ordeal.
"I suppose as headmistress, it is improper of me to be involved directly," she told Hermione. "Which is why I would like to you to be my stand in."
Hermione gaped at her. Not only did Minerva -Minerva- bet on students, she wanted Hermione to act in her stead! And all of this over amature Quidditch!
"I sense that this is not something you have any personal interest in," Minerva said, sharp eyes not missing a thing. "Which is why our union would be ideal for both of us. You can keep any money that comes your way, and I can enjoy the thrill of planning and winning without taking the money of my subordinates." She placed her neatly folded hands on the desk. "It's perfect."
"I always thought the professors were fueled by inter-house rivalry," Hermione said distantly, still trying to process the fact that one of the instructors she most admired for professionalism was running a gambling ring.
"Well there is certainly that too. Severus is surprisingly bad at it. He favors his own house far too highly, and it ends up biting him every time. And Filius! Filius can trash talk with the best of them."
Hermione had a sinking feeling that the "best of them" included Minerva herself.
"I'll think about it."
"Be sure that you do," Minerva said with a nod. "I want an answer after the feast tomorrow."
September 1999
The evening of September 1st was one of the most disconcerting evenings of Hermione's life. She sat at the table in the Great Hall with the other professors, and watched as students trickled in, slowly at first and then in large groups. The sound gradually swelled around the room as friends and housemates separated over the summer were reunited again. Hermione was struck for the first time with the number of students that attended. It wasn't a large school, not by Muggle standards. Her primary school had had almost three times the number of students, and Hogwarts had felt small when she was a student. Now though, sitting with her fellow professors,the prospect of being responsible for so many students' academic futures felt more sudden and more daunting.
She noticed with a start that some students looked towards the professors' table. Perhaps this should not have come as a shock, as she had done the same as a student, but she still felt very aware of the glances in her direction. She was not the only one receiving attention. After all, there were several high profile new professors sitting at the table as well.
Intending to put her best foot forward, Hermione had taken extra time to control and contain her hair, opting for a coif that took minimal effort but kept her hair out of her face and hopefully out of her soup. The last thing she needed was to make a fool of herself before classes even started. The others had similarly attempted to make themselves more presentable. Minerva sat in the middle, wearing beautiful emerald robes. She knew from speaking with him earlier that Hagrid had worn his second best tie. Snape wore his usual black.
Finally, Filius led the first year students into the room. Instantly she could point out with students they would need to watch out for. Some students tripped over their new robes as they looked around wide-eyed at the room, the older students, and the faculty. Others entered with a devil-may-care attitude and a strut that reminded her of a young Draco Malfoy. Still others did not look around at all. They did not smile at their fellow first years and certainly not at anyone else, instead their entire attention focused on the Sorting Hat at the front of the room.
As they came to the front of the hall, Filius had them line up before he began to call out names. Most of the tiny faces were filled with apprehension as they peaked around shoulders to see the hat that would determine their life for the next seven years at Hogwarts. From this point, the ceremony continued on as it always had. The Sorting Hat croaked out a song, and then after Filius called out the first name, a wobbly-kneed child would make his way to the front. The process was repeated until every new student had been sorted.
All in all, there were twenty one new Gryffindors, seven Ravenclaws, eight Hufflepuffs, and four Slytherins. Hermione could feel the other professors tense up as they saw the disparity in house sizes. Judging by how full each table was, this was not the first year that this had happened. She wondered how the all of the new students would even fit in the Gryffindor Tower. From the expression on Lavender's face, it was clear that she was thinking the same thing. At the conclusion of the ceremony, the feast began. Towards the end, Minerva gave a good, but concise speech, and then the students went to their respective houses.
Tomorrow, classes would begin.
Hermione had never considered what professors did the night before the first day of classes, but if she had been asked, she would have said that they spent the evening going over their lesson plans before turning in early so they would be ready for the following day.
She would have been completely wrong. Instead she found herself seated at the bar at the Three Broomsticks with a mug of Butterbeer in front of her. Most of the other teachers were nursing drinks much stronger than hers.
"Make sure that you don't go overboard tonight," Septima told her. "You want to be on your game tomorrow."
Hermione doubtfully eyed the older woman's whiskey.
"Oh, this? Dear, I have a reputation decades long that long precedes any classroom that I enter. I could show up completely sloshed and they would be none the wiser. It's all about how you are perceived, not about who you are."
She looked at Hermione thoughtfully, "Although. . . I suppose you've already built up a reputation of your own. I heard you were the recipient of an Order of Merlin. Well deserved."
"Thank you," Hermione said, completely blindsided by the frank discussion from the person who had taught her favorite class when she was a student.
"In that case, drink up." Septima turned to Rosmerta, holding up her empty glass. "Another one of these, please." She winked at Hermione. "Just stay away from Hagrid. He tends to stumble a bit once he's got some ale in him." She gestured to Hagrid who was sitting with Biswas and other several professors as he took great swigs from a- Hermione did a double take- a barrel of ale.
Septima laughed at her expression, "Hermione, I have a feeling that you are going to learn more as a teacher than you ever did as a student."
Hermione was in classroom 34R, which was a classroom she had never been in as a student. Transfiguration, like most classes at Hogwarts, were taught in a different classroom every year. When she had asked why, she was informed that they did not want the school getting the idea that some rooms were more important than others. Hermione did not believe the school, magical or not, was capable of getting ideas at all, and she didn't particularly understand why the school would be offended if some rooms were used more often than others. It was likely a tradition created by Dumbledore that had simply continued because most professors couldn't remember a time when classes were sensibly held in the same room every year. Yes, she decided, that was most certainly what had happened.
34R was a large, sunny classroom, and she could not have asked for a better room, although she was slightly apprehensive about her new neighbor. Apparently Poppy and Severus' class would conducted in the classroom next door. Not the company would have chosen, surely, but it did mean that she would be mostly undisturbed by trouble makers.
She smoothed the front of her robes, waiting. Students should start coming in about five minutes. All of her notes were ready on her desk, and one of the two large blackboards was already filled up with information about the lapifors spell, their first transfiguration attempt of the year.
Snape stuck his head into the classroom.
"Perfect," he said, looking around the room with distaste.
"Pardon?" She asked, surprised more by his attention than by his attitude.
"I'll have an additional class of idiots to worry about."
"You won't have to worry about them," Hermione said indignantly. "They're not idiots."
He snorted. "See if you're still saying that at the end of the week."
"Classes are meant to be a learning environment! Belittling students is only going to limit them."
He stepped into the classroom. Hermione self-consciously stepped in front of the blackboard as though her petite frame could prevent him from seeing the wall of text.
He chuckled, almost to himself.
She crossed her arms. "They'll do just fine."
"Until you read their papers. Trust me, Granger, you aren't cut out for teaching." He turned back around.
"And you are?" She snapped. He paused in the doorway. "You're standing here getting ready to teach almost every single wizarding child in the United Kingdom and then some. I'll count that as an accomplishment."
She stood there stunned as he left. Did. . . did he just say that he considered her an accomplishment? Surely not.
She was still pondering the odd encounter when students started to enter the classroom.
"Good morning everyone. I am Professor Granger, and this is third year Transfiguration. You should all have your Intermediate Transfiguration textbook. Please turn to page 25 and we'll begin."
And just like that, she started her first day. She had become a teacher.
"This is your third year in Transfiguration class. By this point, you should have mastered the transformation formulas as well as a basic switching spell, and should have a solid understanding of what Transfiguration is and why it works. This year we'll-"
A Ravenclaw stuck her hand in the air. Hermione paused. "Yes?" She said, uncertain of the girl's name.
"Lucy Caspers, Professor Granger. What are switching spells?"
Taken aback, Hermione frowned. Switching spells were covered superficially towards the end of first year and explored thoroughly in second, third, and fourth year. Although. . . Their first year, for the those that even attended would have not been especially educational, and last year the professor had a nervous breakdown during the school year, and the class was taught by the rest of the professors in rotation.
"A switching spell does exactly what you might expect, given its name. It involves switching two different objects simultaneously. Can anyone provide any additional information?" She looked out at the sea of blank faces.
She slowly let out her breath. "Alright, let's start over. Why don't you tell me what you have already learned?"
A Hufflepuff called out, "Professor Hagrid taught us how to do an Avifors Spell last year."
"Good, alright," Hermione said nodding, although she was internally panicking. Out of all of the professors who had rotated through this class, they retained information from Hagrid. A lovely half-giant but not the best source for Transfiguration technique. "Can someone raise their hand," she glanced at the Hufflepuff, "and demonstrate how the Avifor Spell works."
The entire class, eager to impress their new, famous professor, raised their hands.
"We'll all do it together, then. Go ahead and try it on your textbooks."
Collectively, the class started shouting and waving their wands about. Hermione could not make out most of what they were saying, but she was sure it was not the correct pronunciation, or perhaps even the right words. And those wand movements were definitely not correct.
"Ok that's enough," she called.
The class, in their vigor, did not hear her. A wayward spell hit the desk beside her.
"STOP!" She yelled.
The shouting quickly petered out.
"I think I've seen enough. We are going to start from the beginning. There is no way I am going to start on this material," she thumped her own copy of intermediate transfigurations, "until I know that you have a solid foundation on basic material. Your education here has been, at best, spotty since your attendance here. I intend to change that. If you are all willing to work hard, you will be up to class level by the end of term. So, starting at the basic." She uncharmed the half-worm-half-quill squirming on one student's desk who looked immensely grateful to have her quill stop moving.
"What is Transfiguration, and what makes it possible?"
"You turn stuff into different things," the Hufflepuff called out again.
She felt her eye twitch. "Transfiguration is one of the more difficult types of magic you will learn here. It is achieved through concentration, precise wand movements, and the proper pronunciation of an incantation.* It requires a large amount of magical focus and energy."
She heard someone whisper to the person sitting beside them, "So it's just charms, then."
"It is not charms, Mr. Logan. Transfiguration is a scientific process. That is why there is an equation."
Lucy Caspers raised her hand again,"What equation?"
Hermione turned towards the board and flicked her wand, erasing everything that she had painstakingly prepared. She closed her eyes and allowed herself one moment before turning around and teaching her third year class the fundamental laws of Transfiguration.
They spent the rest of class asking questions and going over material that Professor McGonagall had covered in her class on the first day of Hermione's first year. Hermione willed herself to remain calm. Severus was right. She couldn't do this. She was going to lose it before the end of her first week.
Thank you for reading! Please comment if you want to see whether Hermione does in fact survive her first week ;)
