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Through Hermione's eyes

By PotterNutter

Chapter 3 - Philosopher's Stone: Professor Snape

November 8th, 1991

Hermione has never disliked a teacher. In her opinion, there are no unfair teachers – only lazy students who are arrogant enough to think they deserve special treatment. However, Professor Snape may break this unofficial rule. Even before becoming friends with Ron and Harry, Hermione noticed his preferential treatment of Slytherins. He never scolded his own house, but often took points off of Gryffindor students for making the same mistakes as Crabbe or Pansy Parkinson. Determined to not give Professor Snape any reason to punish her, Hermione worked extra hard to earn points in his class and made sure her potions are always the best in class.

"Once again, all of your awakening potions are abysmal." Snape drawled one dreary Friday morning while circling their cauldrons in the dungeon.

The room was filled with hazy orange smoke, some peachy in shade, and others brightly persimmon. Neville's cauldron was emitting a yellow smoke unique to everyone else's.

"What colour smoke is expected from the awakening potion, Potter?"

Harry's cauldron smelled like burning rubber, and swirled with bright orange fumes. He looked up at Professor Snape, "I'm not sure, I reckon it's not supposed to be orange, though."

Hermione bit back a frown at Harry's cheek, knowing Professor Snape would not take it sitting down. Beside her, Ron disguised a laugh as a cough.

Professor Snape narrowed his eyes at Harry, "Five points off of Gryffindor, Potter, do you ever read your book?" He looked around the room at student, "The fumes should be RED! None of you have the correct potion; this is a rudimentary potion that you should've been able to do in your first lesion in SEPTEMBER. Pathetic."

Hermione looked down at her cauldron, only a few feet away from where Professor Snape was standing, it was bubbling merrily and spewing swirls of red smoke. She raised her hand to call his attention to it.

"Please sir," she called out, "My potion –"

"Ms. Granger," Professor Snape interrupted, "Do you always feel the need to show off, or is it just in my class?"

Hermione's face turned beet red and she dropped her hand. The Slytherins laughed maliciously from across the room.

"Don't listen to him, Hermione," Ron whispered to her when Snape was out of earshot, "He's just a bitter old troll, your potion is probably better than his, that's why he's so pissed."

Hermione looked at his freckled grin, and felt herself smile in response.

"Honestly though, how can he teach properly if he goes around bullying students all the time," Hermione complained as they walked back towards the Gryffindor common room after double Potions were over.

"I don't think he's particularly peeved about being a bloody bad teacher, Hermione," Ron chuckled.

"Yeah, he only cares about taking off points for Gryffindor."

They returned the common room, and saw that all the seats were taken up by older students.

"Let's go for a walk instead." Harry said, grabbing the copy of Quidditch Through the Ages that Hermione had lent to him.

The courtyard was covered in frost, and the three of them bundled up together near the jar of blue flame that Hermione had conjured up. They sat down on the bench and Harry perused through the book while Hermione pointed out the jam stain on the front of Ron's robe.

Unfazed, Ron tugged on his robe and tried to lick the stain off.

"Oh gross, Ron, you have no idea how long that's been there!"

"Yes I do, breakfast, two days ago. I had raspberry jam on my toast, and I dropped it when reaching to get some eggs."

"How is it that you remember such detail about breakfast two days ago, yet you can't recall the intricacies of a switching spell?"

Ron laughed, "That's obvious. Because breakfast involves food, and switching spells do not."

"It could," Hermione argued, "If you were attempting to switch a pea with a raisin."

"Oh bravo, Hermione!" Ron feigned shock, "You've found a way to make lessons more interesting. You should tell McGonagall immediately. Mind you though, no one's interested in peas and raisins. Treacle tart and pudding would be more effective."

"Well seeing as you have difficulty switching buttons with marbles, I think you should stick with peas and raisins for now."

Ron turned to Harry, most likely in an attempt to seek back up, but all three of them stopped short when Snape came into the court yard, limping.

"What's that you've got there, Potter?" Snape snapped, "Library books are not to be taken outside the school. Give it to me. Five points from Gryffindor." And he limped away.

Hermione was quite sure that there was no such rule.

xxxxx

Later on, when Harry returned from a visit to the staff room in an attempt to get the book back, Hermione was shocked to hear his account of Snape's wounded leg.

Could it really have been from the three-legged dog on the trap door?

"He's after whatever it's guarding!" Harry was saying, "I'd bet my broomstick he let the troll in, to make a diversion!"

"No – he wouldn't," Hermione insisted, surprised that Harry would jump to that conclusion, "I know he's not very nice, but he wouldn't try and steal something Dumbledore was keeping safe." He's a staff member, after all, and teachers are good people, even if Snape can be a bully sometimes. He would never try to do something sinister like this.

But Ron and Harry were convinced that Snape had an ulterior motive. They stayed up in the common room, discussing theories and guessing what might be under the trap door. Hermione ignored them, she refused to join in the silly charade. Sometimes boys just want adventure and glory, and forget common sense. Why would Snape be looking to betray Dumbledore? They're blinded by their anger towards Snape's treatment of Gryffindors.

"Shouldn't you be worrying about your match tomorrow instead of Snape, Harry?" Hermione snapped after they didn't relent for over half an hour.

That shut them up. Harry's face paled and muttered something unintelligible under his breath that sounded a lot like "Don't want – fall off – Malfoy will laugh."

Hermione felt bad, "Don't worry Harry. You'll be amazing – and no matter what, if you try your best, no one will say a bad word against you."

"Yeah, just don't fall off your broom," quipped Ron. Hermione glared at him.

"I think I'll just go to sleep." Harry said, still looking a bit pale.

Hermione went to bed that night feeling worried and slightly guilty.

xxxxx

November 9th, 1991

The first quidditch match of the season was Gryffindor vs. Slytherin. The first year Gryffindors (minus Harry, of course), marched down to the pitch with a large banner they'd made that said Potter for President, flashing in different colours. Hermione felt nervous; there were butterflies in her stomach as she found a spot next to Ron high up in the seats. From what she'd read, quidditch seemed barbaric and dangerous – she hoped Harry would not be taken advantage of as the youngest and most inexperienced player on the team.

As they sat down among the noisy Gryffindors flashing stripes of red and gold, Hermione realized it was the first time she would spend anytime alone with Ron, without Harry. She was suddenly hit by the fear that Ron would be bored of her without Harry. Or worse, that he would start making fun of her again. In the past week, she has gotten along well with Harry; their personalities were similar, and though he much preferred to play wizard chess than to study, it was easy to talk to Harry. Ron, however, was a walking time bomb. Hermione found him to be energetic, funny, but incredibly rude at the same time. They often get into small arguments over silly things. What if Ron doesn't actually enjoy her company – what if he was only tolerating her because he felt guilty about making her cry on Halloween?

She must've looked unhappy, for Ron suddenly twisted in his seat to look at her.

"Don't worry Hermione," He said, patting her on the shoulder, "Harry won't get hurt."

Hermione glanced over at Ron's freckled face in the chilly air, and smiled. Her worries disappeared; Ron is her friend just as much as Harry. The three of them had been inseparable ever since Halloween, and she's had more fun with the two of them than anyone else in her life.

She happily stretched her arms out and grabbed Ron's shoulders with her left arm and Neville's shoulder with her right.

"Alright, time to watch Harry do us proud!" She laughed out loud.

"That's the spirit!" Ron exclaimed, "Now, do you know the rules?"

Hermione suppressed a chuckle; she'd read Quidditch Through the Ages twice already. Of course she knew the rules. But Ron's excited expression was too difficult to deny, so she lied, "No, will you explain them to me?"

The two teams walked out of the changing rooms as Ron explained the rules to Hermione and Neville. His passion for the game was obvious, as he was practically shaking with excitement. Hermione smiled, why couldn't he show this passion in class? He would do so well if he just tried, instead of asking her for help all the time.

Ron finished explaining just as Madam Hooch blew a sharp whistle to signal the start of the match. The whole crowd stood up on their feet and cheered. In front of them, Seamus and Dean held up the large banner and began chanting Harry's name. The spirit of the match was unlike anything Hermione's ever been apart of.

Gryffindor had possession. The Quaffle was being passed back and forth between Angelina Johnson and Katie Bell. Hermione was amazed at the coordination and grace the players showed while 300 feet up in the air on a thin stick of wood.

Hagrid showed up to the stands to join them. His huge body made the space on the seats seem extremely cramped all of a sudden.

"Look! It's Harry!" Ron yelled, tugging her sleeve.

Harry was flying a bit higher than everyone else, his eyes scanning the pitch for the golden snitch.

Just as they were watching Harry, he dived downwards with a spurt of speed. "Oh my gosh, I think he sees it, Ron," Hermione screamed, jumping up and down with glee, "Harry sees it!"

But Marcus flint blocked Harry illegally, and earns Gryffindor a penalty shot. And after Ron spent some time arguing with Dean about the difference between soccer and quidditch, Hermione looked back at the pitch to see something odd happening to Harry. His broom was buckling, it seemed as if he couldn't get it under control.

"What's going on?" Ron whispered fearfully, "Is Harry going to fall?"

"I don't know – it looks like some sort of curse…" Hermione said.

" – no kid could do that to a Nimbus Two Thousand," Hagrid was saying.

No kid…? But who COULD curse a broomstick? Someone more powerful, someone with a vendetta against Harry…

Hermione snatched Hagrid's binoculars out of his hands and scanned through the crowds at the staff stands. McGonagall was out of her seat, seemingly shouting for Harry's attention, waving her arms. Flitwick looked frantic. Dumbledore wasn't present. Quirrel was huddled by himself in a corner, skipping over him, Hermione finally found her target. Her eyes landed on Snape, who was sitting very still, his hands clutched together tightly, and his eyes staring unwaveringly at the pitch. His mouth was moving very fast, muttering words that Hermione couldn't make out.

"I knew it," Hermione gasped, barely able to believe the evidence in front of her that this teacher was trying to sabotage not only the game, but Harry's safety, "Snape – look."

"He's jinxing the broom."

Determined to do what she could to save Harry, Hermione raced off to the other side of the stands. It was easy to maneuver through the crowds, as everyone had moved to the front of the seats to watch the rogue broomstick shake in buckle under Harry's weight. Hermione reached the staff seats in under a minute.

Hermione took out her wand and conjured the blue flames onto Snape's robes. By the time Snape discovered his predicament, Hermione had already scooped up the blue flame and headed back towards Ron.

Out on the pitch, Harry got a handle on his broomstick, and was after a mere few minutes, ended the game by catching the snitch. Hermione was still in too much shock to cheer with the rest of the Gryffindors. She couldn't believe Snape tried to kill Harry. She felt like her whole world was shaken. How could he become a teacher – it's one of the most noble jobs. How can a bad person be a teacher? How can a teacher be an attempted murderer? It just didn't make any sense.

"Harry, are you alright?" Hermione shouted frantically as Ron, Hagrid and her rushed down to the pitch after the game.

"I'm okay, Hermione." Harry laughed at her attempt to look him over for scratches and injuries.

"It was Snape," Ron said, "He was cursing your broomstick."

"It's true," Hermione continued, "You guys were right – he's evil. He tried to kill you."

Hagrid was stunned. "Why would Snape do something like that."

Hermione thought back to the venomous look Snape gave Harry whenever he laid eyes on him, and realized that his grudge must run deeper than simple dislike. The question is – why? Harry was just a kid!

Hagrid was shocked to find out that the three of them knew about the three-headed dog. Fluffy, he'd called it. He defended Snape, and for the first time ever – Hermione disagreed that the teacher had good intentions.

"You forget that dog, an' you forget what it's guardin', that's between Professor Dumbledore an' Nicolas Flamel –"

xxxxx

"We should tell someone – anyone!" Hermione was still saying after an hour, "Snape tried to kill you, Harry. Don't you think we should let Dumbledore know what kind of person he's employing?"

"We have no proof." Insisted Harry, "As much as I'd like to tell on Snape, we'd just look like we're lying. Dumbledore would never believe us over him."

"But –"

"But what if we tell him about fluffy as well?" Ron said, "Then the wound on his leg would be proof, right?"

"But then we'd have to admit that we broke the rules." Hermione bit her lips.

"Okay, let's all just agree to lay low and research about Nicolas Flamel before saying anything to anyone."

Hermione reluctantly agreed.

xxxxx

It was simply wonderful to have friends who you could count on. Before Hogwarts, Hermione had acquaintances at school, but whenever she got angry or embarrassed, strange things would happen, and her acquaintances would distance themselves. This meant, unfortunately, that Hermione never made any lasting friendships in her primary school.

But now, everything is different. Ron, Harry, and Hermione spent afternoons in the Gryffindor common room by the roaring fire. Hermione would often be found studying at a large table, where Harry and Ron are engaged in a game of wizard's chess. Everyone in Gryffindor is now used to hearing, "If only you two would put as much energy into revising as you put into chess," "I'm not going to look over your essays!" "Come ON, Hermione, just this once?" "Ronald, your handwriting is abysmal," when lounging in the common room.

In November and December, the three of them can often be found in the school library, searching for clues as to who Nicolas Flamel was. Harry insists that the name sounded familiar to him. They'd been looking all over, and Hermione is baffled that for once, books seem to be failing her. They could never spend more than an hour at a time in the library, because inevitably Harry would begin dozing off among the book shelves, and Ron would start loudly whining that they'll never find Flamel. Madam Pince would then usher the three of them out, throwing Hermione a dirty look as if to say "don't bring them in if you can't control them".

Ron and Harry were staying in the castle for Christmas, and Hermione was half tempted to stay behind as well. It warmed her heart to think that she had friends good enough to miss out on the holidays for. But, as Ron brought up, she does miss her parents terribly.

"You will keep looking for Flamel while I'm away, won't you?" said Hermione, while saying good bye. Secretly, she also wanted to add, you won't forget about me, won't you?

xxxxx

Christmas was lovely. Hermione hadn't realized how much she'd missed her parents until she saw them at the train station. She'd immediately flew into her dad's waiting arms and wouldn't let go for a whole minute.

On the ride home, she told her parents all about Hogwarts.

"It's beautiful, Mum, it really is." She gushed, "The great hall has an enchanted ceiling so you can see the stars while you eat dinner. The food is amazing! There's always so much, even Ron can't finish all the food that appears on his plate, and that's saying something. The Gryffindor tower is really comfortable, and everything sort of red. The beds are really soft, and Harry says the boy's side of the tower over looks the lake. My side over looks the forbidden forest, so it's pretty nice too!"

"Hold on, pumpking –" interrupted her Dad, looking jokingly stern, "Who are these blokes you keep speaking of, you didn't write to us about them. Are they friends…? Or are they more?"

Hermione blushed, "They're just friends! Harry Potter and Ron Weasley, they're in Gryffindor too. They're my best friends."

Hermione hadn't mentioned Harry and Ron to her parents, because in the month leading up to the holidays, she was secretly nervous that she'd wake up one day and find that their friendship had been a good, but short-lasting dream.

"What are they like?" Her Mum asked, intrigued.

"Well Harry has really messy black hair, but at least it's not bushy like mine. He wears glasses, and get this – remember the stuff I told you before, when I read about the dark wizard who took over England a decade ago? He's the baby boy who made You-Know-Who disappear!"

"OH, that little boy, the orphan?" Her Mum said, "The poor thing, are you nice to him, Hermione?"

"Of course! He's my friend. He's a really good guy, quite humble, and not at all spoiled like you'd think a famous person might be. In fact, he's much nicer than Ron. Ron's really funny and a great friend, but he can be a bit rude. He makes fun of me sometimes, but he doesn't really mean it."

xxxxx

December 25th, 1991

On Christmas, she woke up to find Hedwig tapping on her bedroom window. She opened the window to let her in. She cooed and after having a sip of water out of Hermione's cup, flew off.

Hedwig had brought two parcels. The first parcel contained a book called Wizards and Muggles: Differences and Similarities.

I saw this on the catalogue and thought it might interest you. Happy Christmas Hermione, I hope you're having fun at home. We miss you at Hogwarts. From Harry.

Hermione beamed and tucked the note into her day planner to keep.

The second parcel was very poorly wrapped, and it was clearly from Ron. Cellophane tape was coming off loose at different corners. Hermione chuckled and opened it to find a big box of Bertie's Every Flavor Beans. She immediately burst out in laughter – she had gotten Ron the exact same thing.

In the envelop, there was a note that said, Hi Hermione, Here's some candy, because everyone loves candy and I don't really know what else to get you other than a book. Decided against that since I'm sure you've read all the books there is in the world, so have some beans instead. Happy Christmas and come back soon. From Ron.

She folded Ron's note as well and put it next to Harry's. As she moved, a photograph fell out of the envelop. She picked it up from the ground and saw that it was a moving photo of Harry, Ron, and Hermione. She remembered that day, it was in November, and they had gone to visit Hagrid at his hut. Fang was in the periphery of the picture, snoozing away. Ron had his arms around both Harry and Hermione, his freckles looked extra obvious in the photo. Hermione's bushy brown hair was all over the place, and when she shook her head in laughter, a strand of it fell into Ron's open mouth. Ron spat it out and laughed at Hermione. Harry joined in on the laughter and rolled his eyes.

It was a candid photo of an ordinary day. Yet to Hermione, holding the piece of evidence of their friendship, it seemed extraordinary.

Hermione felt around her neck and opened up the locket her parents had given her for her 12th birthday. The second window was still blacked out. She resolved that as soon as she returns to Hogwarts, she would go to the library and look up a spell to shrink the photo in order to place it in the locket.

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