Author's Note: I'm in the process of writing the next few chapters and I even know what's going to happen. Hooray! I have a habit of letting my stories take on a life of their own. With any luck, I'll be able to post sooner than usual. However, I have a test on Friday and I start my family medicine rotation on March 1st. I want to go into family medicine, so this rotation is really important for me. We'll have to see what happens. Enjoy!
Disclaimer: Again, I do not own any part of the Harry Potter series; it is the property of J.K. Rowling.
After dinner that night, Hermione took the book that Professor McGonagall had given her to her room. She looked up the 1504 Act for the Protection of Orphaned Muggleborns, and started reading.
Any muggleborn student who becomes orphaned and has no family to raise him shall become the legal ward of a Hogwart's School of Witchcraft and Wizardry (HSWW) professor until such muggleborn student reaches the legal age of maturity. The guardian professor will meet the following criteria: 1) He will be less than sixty years of age. 2) He will be previously known to the muggleborn student. 3) He will be a professor; an employee of HSWW may not become a guardian to an orphaned muggleborn student unless he is the legal spouse of a professor. 4) He will blend into the Muggle World without using magic to alter his appearance in any way. 5) He will be approved by the legitimate governing muggle authorities. If no Professor meets these standards, the orphaned muggleborn student shall be placed at Saint Mungo's Hospital for Magical Maladies and Injuries until a suitable professor is found or he reaches the legal age of maturity.
Hermione flopped back against her pillows and sighed. At least now she knew why Snape had been appointed her guardian; he was the only candidate who could take her in. Maybe I could run away to Ron's for awhile, she thought wistfully. But then she pushed the thought out of her mind. From what Ron had told her about his family, she was sure his mum would send her right back to Snape.
A light bulb switched on on in Hermione's brain. That's the way out, she thought. The muggle authorities have to approve! But how do I prove it to them? She could say that living with a Potions master was dangerous, that his potions often exploded. But he'll have already thought of a way around it, she thought to herself. I have to think like I'm in the muggle world. Why would the muggle courts prevent someone from becoming a child's guardian? Her mind wandered to the muggle news reports about abused children that she had watched with her parents. Those reports had always infuriated them, and they always said they hoped the parents "got what they bloody well deserved." That's it! she thought. What better way to prove that Snape wasn't a fit guardian than to make them think he abused her? But how do I do that? She paused a moment in thought. I have to do some research. She glanced at her watch. It was eight o'clock; regular Hogwart's curfew was nine o'clock. She'd be able to get some of her research done, but not all of it.
"Professor Snape?" Hermione said tentatively, stepping into the living room. Snape was reading a book in one of the arm chairs.
"Yes, Miss Granger?" he replied in a bored tone without looking up.
"May I go to the library?"
He glanced at the clock. "That's fine. Be back by curfew." He returned to his book.
"Um, Professor?" she said, drawing a line on the floor with her toe.
"What is it?" he replied, his tone taking on a hint of annoyance.
"Well, you know how I like to study and all…"
"Spit it out, Miss Granger. I would like to finish this chapter tonight."
"Well, it's summer and I was wondering if I could have a little more time…"
"Fine," he cut her off. "Be back by nine-thirty." He waved her off with his hand.
"Yes, sir! Thank you!" She hurried off to the library, notebook and pen in hand.
At 9:29, Hermione walked into Snape's quarters, and headed straight for her room to go over her notes. The Muggle Studies books had said that muggles looked for bruises in areas that wouldn't normally bruise—like the stomach—and were in various stages of healing.
How am I going to create bruises without hurting myself? she asked herself. Hermione stared at her notes, stumped. She wracked her brain, trying to come up with a way until a knock at the door startled her. She slammed her notebook shut, her face suddenly growing warm. "Come in!" she called.
Snape opened her door. "It's bedtime, Miss Granger," he said, gesturing to the clock. "Please get ready and go to bed."
"Er…yes, sir," Hermione replied, her face growing pinker.
Snape looked at her curiously for a moment. "Do you have a fever, Miss Granger? You're very flushed." He strode over to her and placed his hand on her forehead, as if checking for a fever.
"No, sir. I'm fine." She tried to wriggle away, surprised and confused by his action.
Snape removed his hand from her forehead, satisfied that she was not sick. "All right then." He looked at her pointedly again. "Good night."
"Good night, sir."
Snape shut her bedroom door, still wondering if the girl was coming down with something. Perhaps her room is a bit too chilly, he thought idly. I'll have to raise the warming charm a bit. He poked the thermostat with his wand, raising the temperature of the quarters a few degrees. When he went to bed an hour later, he had to admit that the wooden floors had lost their chill.