Chapter One
1991-1992 Hermione's first year
Hermione had taken the lessons David and Jane had prepared for her regarding how she was to treat her father in public to heart, but it was heartbreaking for David to realise that instead of encouraging his daughter as he would at home, he'd be forced to pander to his own house, or questions would be asked very shortly. Better for Hermione to pretend to be the Muggleborn daughter of two dentists rather than the Half-blood daughter of the most hated Hogwarts teacher. For safety, only for Hermione's safety.
The thought of having to deny any filial care as well as dismissing his daughter's inquisitive nature in Potions and around the school, was such that David seriously considered defying Jane and sending Hermione to Beaubaxtons, rather than risking the chance that Hermione would grow to resent him his covering cruelty. He and Jane had had many long roundabout conversations in bed at night, some more heated than others, alternately arguing and then dismissing the idea of not hiding Hermione's parentage, as well as dredging up alternate schooling arrangements. In the end, they continually came back to one simple expedient. It was safer to have Hermione close to David, where he could and would be able to subtly ensure that Hermione was all right. How David was to ensure this was still up in the air to a degree, but he knew there had to be a way that didn't involve detentions or Dumbledore acting as go-between. The less sway and interaction Dumbledore held over Hermione, the better.
Perhaps the hardest moment in their intensive 'lessons' had been when David, his week away from Hogwarts at an end, allowed Hermione to see him transform into the towering and glowering personage of Severus Snape. Both Jane and David had talked seriously with Hermione over the breakfast table, ensuring that Hermione understood that underneath any disguise, her father would always be the person who loved her dearer than life itself, not Snape, who was nothing but a shell, an actor in a very long play. Instead of heading into the spare bedroom, which David usually retreated to, to drink his potion and Apparate to and from Hogsmeade, both he and Jane had decided that for this first transformation in front of Hermione, the more familiar surroundings of the living room would suit better just in case Hermione couldn't cope with the physical changes happening in front of her.
Sparing a brief worried look at Jane, David opened the flask in his hand and took a large swig of the astringent liquid. Standing quietly, he knew that whilst not painful, it was an uncomfortable sensation particularly as his eyes darkened from their normal brown to a colour so dark it could be mistaken for black. His short brown hair likewise lengthened, growing darker and lank as it touched his shoulders. His usual pale, ruddy appearance also took on a sallow hue, with several new and deeper lines etched into this other face, particularly around his mouth and forehead. But it was the sensation of his teeth re-arranging themselves and gaining a less than subtle yellowing that David particularly hated. Hermione stood patiently in front of her father, watching the transformation silently, cataloguing the changes to the person she knew up until this time simply as 'dad.'
Once the transformation had finished, David arched an eyebrow and gave Hermione a piercing look as he asked in an acerbic tone just what she thought she was looking at?
Initially startled by the change in her father's voice, Hermione cocked her head to the side and walked slowly around David as he stood silently watching her carefully. Moving to stand next to him, Hermione picked up his right hand and looked at it closely, as she turned it over and then back again.
"I...it's very different, but I can see bits of you in there, dad. Your hands haven't changed much, and that look you give me when you're worried, it's still there. And when you purse your lips, you fold them in a bit. But I'll remember what you and mum said. You're an actor in a play and I have to play my part too - for safety."
"I know you will, sweetie, but the hardest part for both of us is going to be the fact that you'll have to ignore me when we're at school. I'll find a way that we can talk at some stage if I can, but Snape is hated. I have a reputation as the hardest teacher, the 'bat of the dungeons', and I've been known to make children cry at regular intervals. Can you cope with that, Hermione? Can you understand why I will have to do this?"
"I think so, but I don't like it."
"I don't like it either, but if it's any consolation, to keep my cover and yours, you might have to do things you know your mum and I wouldn't approve of normally. We've tried to bring you up to respect your elders, but no matter what it is you have to do, I will understand. Keeping all of this our secret is paramount. As long as you can tell me why you had to do whatever it might be, and you don't do anything too dangerous, I'll understand and know that you could find no other way around any given situation."
"Like what, dad?"
"I don't know, Hermione, but you'll be learning all sorts of new and interesting things, and you can't show any sympathy for me. There are too many questions that neither of us can explain fully without endangering you."
Glancing over at Jane with a wry look, David crouched down balancing on the balls of his feet so that he was at eye level with Hermione.
"None of this," David said firmly as he waved a hand in front of himself, "changes who I am underneath it all, but unless we're alone and in a secure place, you have to think of me as just a teacher."
"I will dad, I promise," Hermione said emphatically as she leant forward quickly to embrace her father.
Sitting quietly in his private quarters, David decided it had been altogether too hard not to share a look or smile with Hermione as she'd been welcomed into the Hogwarts family at her Sorting earlier in the evening. David had sent off a note to Jane as soon as he'd been able to retreat to his rooms, letting her know that Hermione had been sorted into Gryffindor. The stress of waiting for the Sorting Hat to place her had been more nerve wracking than his own placement in Slytherin all those years ago, the knowledge that Hermione was also holding onto a very large secret not helping in the slightest. Although, if pushed to offer a hope for his only child, David would have much preferred to see Hermione in Ravenclaw or Hufflepuff rather than in the same dormitory as Harry Potter. David could only hope that Dumbledore had not somehow nobbled the whole thing for whatever reason.
And, with that thought came the reminder of the irrational surge of anger and hatred as he'd spied the smaller version of James Potter milling around nervously with the other children.
David made a silent vow in that quiet moment that if young Potter was of the same ilk as his father, and did anything to hurt his only child, he just might be, 'The Boy Who did Not Live to See his Twelfth Birthday.'
But, for now, David knew absolutely that Minerva McGonagall would treat all the students in her house fairly and stamp out any cruelty that came to her attention, not that David could overtly be seen to be interested in an unknown Muggleborn student in another house. That would definitely be cause for a great many questions he had no desire to answer.
Looking out over the students gorging themselves on all the tasty treats that the Headmaster had organised for the Halloween Feast, David couldn't see Hermione sitting in her usual place at the end of the Gryffindor table. They'd only had a single chance to cross paths without any witnesses. The Library, it seemed, was as much Hermione's sanctuary as it had been to David. Having known that once Hermione spied the Library, she would be in her element and unlikely to leave without sufficient inducement, it was the perfect location to wish her a happy birthday in one of the back stacks, having already sent his gift home to Jane so that she could post it to Hogsmeade for owl delivery. The Library was, to a degree, neutral territory and both of them could be there at the same time, though in different sections, without risking anyone putting two and two together and reaching the correct conclusion regarding their true relationship to each other.
But, David hadn't had a chance to see and talk to Hermione since then unless it was to tell her harshly to stop showing off in class or put her hand down when she became excited at knowing the answer to any given question in Potions. The way she had looked so hurt nearly made him give up the charade then and there, but there was more at stake than either of them truly understood. Flamel's stone had been moved to Hogwarts and Dumbledore was keeping David in the dark about what exactly such a move meant. David had his suspicions, but avoided voicing them in the vain hope that they might be false. And so, he had to content himself with watching Hermione moving between her classes and during meals, but there was something off about her in general. The mad excitement of gathering her supplies in Diagon Alley and her arrival at the castle seemed nowhere in evidence in the last few weeks, and David was worried about exactly what had happened to dampen Hermione's normally bubbly and inquisitive nature. Spying Potter and Weasley gorging themselves, David was just about to stand and move down to the Gryffindor table to enquire as only Snape could about just where their classmate was, when the nervous twit Quirrell staggered into the middle of the Feast and promptly fainted after uttering the few words guaranteed to cause general pandemonium and panic amongst the sugar laden students.
"'Troll - in the dungeons...'" (pg 127 PS, pb)
'Fuck! Hermione!' David thought to himself standing suddenly and sneaking out the teacher's entrance as quickly as he could, leaving the Slytherin prefects to guide the students back to the Common Room.. What had happened to cause Potter and Weasley to be stuffing themselves and Hermione to be heaven only knew where? Quickly finding a quiet spot away from prying eyes, David pulled out a little silver sickle. It was the sickle he'd given Hermione to pay for the owl's delivery, and that Dumbledore had given back to him just prior to the start of the new school year. It had been a good choice for a talisman, small, and inconsequential and Dumbledore had helped him without even realising it. Not only could it lead him to Hermione, but it had the added advantage of notifying him when Dumbledore left the school grounds. Uttering a few quiet words to activate it, David put it to his forehead and thought of Hermione, then took off at a brisk walk towards the dungeons, the coin warming the closer he got to her location. Hearing hurried footsteps behind him, David darted into an alcove and waited, watching as Minerva moved past him quickly, then stepped out of his hiding place and followed her towards the loud noises emanating from the girl's toilet just ahead.
The scene before him as he raced in the doorway behind Minerva was enough to strike fear into his very soul. Looking around quickly at the amount of damage and the troll unconscious in front of him, he skewered Potter with a look that promised significant pain. David couldn't see Hermione at first, but then he heard a small whimpering sound and turned quickly to see her pressed against the far wall, white faced and shaking uncontrollably. Wanting nothing more than to go over and hug her, all the while reassuring her, that she was safe, David let Minerva do the talking, not trusting himself not give himself away.
And, then she lied about how she came to be in the girl's toilets instead of at the Halloween Feast to her Professor. Openly lied. David knew Hermione too well not to see that fact that she wouldn't look either Minerva or himself in the eye as she recounted her assertion that she thought she could take on a fully grown troll. David was torn between wanting to hug her and wanting to give her detention for such a performance. Turning to watch her leave once she'd been dismissed by Minerva, David arched an eyebrow at his only child as she looked directly at him and gave her father a very nervous smile. It was the sort of wary look that said, 'Oh, oh, dad's going to kill me!'
Centering himself back into character, David wondered briefly if he could now convince Jane to send Hermione to Beaubaxtons. All in all, he thought not, though he did wonder if he'd be completely grey and a nervous wreck by the time Hermione got to her seventh year if this was the sort of mischief she planned to continue. Once he'd cleaned up this stinking mess, David resolved to find a better and more secure way to see Hermione far more regularly than he'd managed so far.
Sitting quietly watching Hermione sleep in the Infirmary, David could only think that Australia was starting to look very attractive as a place to hide out. His only child had made a decent attempt to turn him into a nervous lather of sweat on numerous occasions throughout the year, but managing to dismantle his potions puzzle surely topped the list.
Setting his robes on fire came a very close second, though David did spare a moment for a wry smile remembering that Hermione had held up her side of the agreement to try and do whatever it took to hide their relationship to each other. He just wished he'd been wearing an older set of robes at the time. Hermione, having explained her actions over the Christmas holidays, admitted that she couldn't think of anything else and Ron's argument that he, Snape, had been deliberately nobbling Harry's chances of getting to the Snitch was very convincing. Until Quirrell made his move towards the Philosopher's stone, David hadn't known who had been cursing young Potter, but as Hermione had inadvertently knocked over Quirrell on her way to her father, David had to admit that as a cover, it really was perfect. Now, there could be no doubt that Hermione had managed to separate Snape from her dad.
Weasley and Potter had been discharged from the Infirmary by Poppy earlier in the day, but Dumbledore had managed to argue that Hermione needed a night of peace and quiet. Yet another thing that David owed him, though he found it hard looking at her sleeping peacefully to quibble about the old man's intentions. If Poppy seemed curious as to why Snape would spend the night at the bedside of a student not in his house, she showed enough professionalism not to ask, not that she wasn't looking at him oddly as she moved around tidying up before she retired for the night.
Hoping that this was an exceptional year and that some of the stunts she, Potter and Weasley had managed to entangle themselves in, would not be repeated next year, David rather thought it was really too much to hope for. They were as thick as thieves, the three of them, and where one was, the other two were very close behind, more often than not keeping lookout. No, he was realistic. For as long as the three of them remained friends, they'd stick their noses into ever more dangerous areas.
And that danger now had a face, sort of. It was a nebulous concept to a degree, but David had no doubt that Lord Voldemort would eventually find a suitable host body, and then his life would again be a matter of tenuously maintaining his cover as Dumbledore's spy. The memory of past actions left him feeling sick to his stomach. How on earth was he supposed to warn off Hermione in such a way that she'd listen to him? Not just listen to him, but pass on every warning to the two twits she called friends. The worry of that thought alone had added another crease between his eyes, one he tended to rub usually when he had a quiet moment unobserved, such as now.
Looking up, he saw Hermione stir restlessly and roll over. Standing quietly, he tucked the blanket around her again, and then sat down to continue his vigil, vowing to always protect Hermione no matter the personal cost to himself.
