"Why, hello Ms. Granger," Flitwick greeted her cheerfully, as she took the seat between him and Professor McGonagall.
"Hello Professor," she smiled at him and greeted the headmistress as well. She made small talk with McGonagall for a bit, before excusing herself and turning toward Flitwick.
"What can I do for you Ms. Granger," Flitwick spoke between bites of food.
Hermione didn't feel like correcting him, so she ignored the mistake and asked causally, "I was wondering if you knew of any way for getting the signature of a charm?"
"Magical signature of the caster?" Hermione nodded. "Well that is a very complex thing, may I ask why, Ms. Granger?"
"Call me Hermione, please," she smiled, "Oh, it's just something they want me to research at the ministry. They want to verify the charm caster signature for some patent filing." She hoped he couldn't hear the whistling as the lies went through her teeth.
"Ah, interesting," Flitwick nodded, and paused for thought. "Well, I haven't personally used such spells, but I am sure I have some books on it. By when do you need it?"
"Well, I was hoping by the weekend, but if you can point me to a book about it, I can do the work. I know you're really busy."
"Ah, that is all well, my dear. Will you be here later? I have to look for it."
"I have an appointment for tea with the headmistress at three, shall I come by your office at four or so?"
"Of course, of course. Now, if you'll excuse me, I should go prepare for my class."
"Thank you professor, I'll see you later, shall I?"
"Later," Flitwick waved to her before pushing back from the table and heading out through the side door.
"I couldn't help overhearing," Hermione startled, "Oh! Did I startle you?"
"A little, sorry Professor, I was just thinking of something."
"Looks like you have some research to do. No wonder you're lost in your own world."
Hermione blushed. Sometimes she felt like a right geek. "Err…"
"It's alright my dear. You remind me of someone," she said sadly.
Hermione's gut gave a funny twist. "Of whom, if I may ask, Professor?"
"Why, Severus was just the same when he was your age, and in school too. He would get so lost in his work."
Hermione smiled sadly. The man was a hero. Somehow they all had always looked at him, and failed to see that he had had a childhood too. The man was a hero, and heroes didn't have traits, they had virtues.
McGonagall excused herself, and left the table, and Hermione knew she missed him most of all; they had been friends while he had taught here. She had been devastated when he killed Dumbledore, but even more when the truth had come out.
Hermione had overheard her speak to Mr. Weasley, "If he had only shared something with me! Oh Arthur, I feel terrible for accusing him!"
It was a guilt they all had shared. They all had accused him of being a murderer.
Hermione looked up to see the hall had almost emptied. She sighed and made to leave. The library would be a good place to start.
She pressed the little vial in her pocket, and climbed the stairs, thinking about Snape.
"I wonder why she wanted to have tea with me? And that too over something related to the ministry representatives?" Hermione thought as she approached the gargoyle.
She smiled and patted the gargoyle, fondly remembering Professor Dumbledore's passwords. She very much doubted McGonagall had stuck to the same format.
"Err? Liquorice sticks? Lemon Drops? M & Ms?"
"That's not going to go on all afternoon is it?" Hermione was startled to see the gargoyle speak.
"Err, I guess not," Hermione muttered, "The headmistress is expecting me, Hermione Granger-Weasley."
The gargoyle went silent, and a few moments later, the gargoyle moved aside to reveal the moving staircase. Hermione stepped on and waited to reach the top.
McGonagall was waiting for her at the top, beaming about something. Hermione instantly put herself on guard. Although McGonagall was not anywhere near as devious as Dumbledore, she was not to be underestimated. Hermione had seen proof when the ministry had tried to bring Hogwarts under their control after the war.
On the outside, Hermione smiled sweetly and followed the headmistress into the office. A steaming tea service was already arranged, perhaps not so accidentally arranged near Dumbledore's portrait.
Hermione observed the well worn chair across the table, opposite the portrait. It seemed McGonagall took tea often with Dumbledore.
"Ah! Ms. Granger, or should I say Mrs. Granger-Weasley?" Dumbledore beamed from his portrait.
Somewhere Hermione's mind went "Oh…oh…"
"Hello Professor Dumbledore, I trust everything is well?"
"Quite Mrs. Weasley, thank you for asking. Oh, may I call you Hermione? I find last names such a chore. Please call me Albus."
"Of course Prof…err.. Albus," Hermione smiled back. Dumbledore twinkled.
Hermione took a seat indicated by the headmaster and observed the office. She hadn't been here since the last Order meeting, and that was years ago. Not much had changed; still the same old carpet, and the same old curtains, although some of Albus' pet contraptions were not around. In their place, were piles of papers, neatly arranged, and muggle-style files.
"How do you take your tea?"
"Oh, no milk, lemon and two sugars."
McGonagall played mother, and Hermione soon had a steaming cup of tea in her hands. She inhaled the wonderful smell. It was good to have some proper tea; her teas were never this good. Although the manor always served fantastic tea.
She sipped and let the hot liquid flow and warm her system. It felt wonderful. She stretched her neck and released some stiffness.
McGonagall was watching with interest. Hermione noticed and glanced around, unable to meet her eyes.
"Hermione, I'm not a woman to beat around the bush…" a small cough came from the portrait, and McGonagall ignored it, "I want to retire from teaching, and devote my time to running the school."
Hermione waited.
"The ministry has been pushing to have one of their people take my place as Transfiguration master, and after the Dolores fiasco," She frowned, "I will not have them traipsing around my school."
"Who do you have in mind?"
McGonagall looked mildly surprised, "you of course!"
Hermione gaped.
"Well? Hermione?"
"Err.. ah.. But I don't have a master in Transfiguration!" she said lamely.
"I am willing to overlook that if you promise to get one as soon as you can."
"But Professor, you know Ron won't…" she cut off and stared at her tea cup, ashamed. She sounded like a five year old, still needing permission.
"Honestly Hermione," the headmistress continued sharply, "I confess myself disappointed."
"It's not that, Professor, Ron has a hard time without me around."
"Although I admire your need to take care of your husband, I feel quite agitated that such a fine mind is going to waste!"
Hermione felt really ashamed. Here she was, being granted leniency for the job most people academically inclined coveted for, and she was making excuses for her husband's need to be molly-coddled.
It was very pathetic.
She looked up to meet the kindly gaze of the older woman. "I would love the job, Professor," she rubbed her face, "but it's just that I need to discuss it with Ron."
"That's alright, I need to decide by Monday, and I confess, I hope that you will take the job," She put her tea cup on the table.
"Hermione," Dumbledore said gently.
"Yes professor?" Hermione looked at the portrait, Dumbledore was smiling.
"I would urge you to take the position, as a favour to an old coot."
"But I…"
"It is a good opportunity for you, my dear. You can finally get that masters in the many subjects you excel at, and still be home for supper."
Hermione figured Dumbledore had a point.
"Well, you'll have to test with me, to see if you are good, but I'm sure you'll as usual, do very well. I can have the test ready this Saturday."
Hermione had run out of excuses, and obviously couldn't blame it on the three small children, seeing that she had no small children. She figured she'd walked right into it.
And Ron wouldn't mind, she thought, it was only Hogwarts. She didn't want to fight again.
In the end, she agreed to take the test, but insisted that McGonagall give no room for error.
"Have I ever?" McGonagall canted an eyebrow.
Hermione smiled and thanked her for her time. She remembered she had to go pick up the book from Flitwick, and made her way down to the charms classroom.
There was a class just finishing up, so she waited outside while the students filed out.
"Were we ever so young?" Hermione asked herself, and walked into the classroom.
Flitwick greeted her warmly, made small talk for a few minutes, and invited her to tea in the office. Hermione declined, stating that she had just taken tea with the headmistress. It looked like Flitwick wanted to ask what it was about, but thankfully refrained.
She didn't want to go around telling people that she was the new transfiguration master, not just yet. Besides, she could just as easily bollocks up the test.
"Yeah right!" said one small smug part of her brain. Of course she was going to practice it to death and do flawlessly. It was just how she was, obsessed with perfection.
Who needed to get a permission slip from her husband to do what she wanted to do, supplied another part of her brain. She shushed it, and concentrated on what Flitwick was saying.
After a few more minutes, she excused herself and promised to return the book soon. Flitwick invited her to keep it as long as she wanted, and she felt immensely grateful. She had that transfiguration exam coming up in three days, and she needed to do this well.
If not to get the job, to prove to her self that her intelligence wasn't dead just yet.
Clutching the book to her chest, she walked to the spot just outside the gates, enjoying the rare outing, and apparated to her garden with a small pop.