AN: I'm back from vacation! Miss me? Hopefully things will get calmer soon. Right now at least, updates should be a little more regular.
Thank you for all the support!
Minerva hated these kinds of conversations.
It was bad enough that this discussion had to be delayed for two days, the first because of rain, the second because of a long meeting with the Hogwarts Board of Governors. Just the thought of that meeting was enough to give her a migraine. Whoever thought allowing Lucius to become the Chairman of the Hogwarts School of Governors needed to be sent to the Janus Thickey Ward. The man was on a mission to fulfill goals known only to him. It wasn't beneath him to play dirty to achieve them either, a possibility for which Minerva braced herself.
Before she could meditate on the ambition, vanity and smugness that was Lucius Malfoy, the door opened. The echo of a clacking walker resounded through the Headmistress' office. As the figure behind the assistive device became clearer, Minerva sat up straighter and folded her hands.
For one brief moment, Minerva flashed to a hospital room, the smell of antiseptic potions strong enough to churn her stomach. The patient sitting on the hospital bed was grinning, but she couldn't hide the fear in her eyes. It had been hours, and the healers still couldn't find the treatment to get her leg to stop shaking. Minerva had come as emotional support and a listening ear. Hermione was certain things would be fine, but appreciated the gesture. To prove it, she would walk over to close the window. After taking a few steps, she collapsed under the uselessness of her left leg. Minerva didn't know her stomach could sink that low. Still, Hermione remained optimistic, her smile as wide as ever. With Minerva, her boyfriend, parents, and friends on her side, she could get through anything. A cure would soon come. She could feel it. All she needed was a little patience, and she could resume her life as if nothing had occurred.
Minerva only hoped that relationship would survive this meeting. It would be devastating to lose a friend and colleague over an inadvisable scheme to apply for a position she had no hope of obtaining.
"Hello Minerva," Hermione moved to the chair across the desk.
"Good evening," Minerva glanced at Hermione's left leg. It was shaking, though not as badly as it had been in the morning. At least she'd have the energy to leave the room without faltering.
"How did yesterday's Board meeting go?" Without grace, Hermione slumped into the chair, dragging her left leg into the proper position.
"Very well," Minerva cleared her throat. "We discussed how the search was progressing now that the application process had been closed."
"I'd imagine they were very interested in how things were progressing."
"Yes," Minerva frowned. "Lucius was a little too interested in the process."
"Is he giving you trouble again?"
"Let's just say it irritates him that Severus did not apply for the job."
"He actually raised a fuss about it?"
"Yes, and then he began complaining about how long it was taking for us to get around to refurbishing the Slytherin Common room," Minerva huffed. "The Ravenclaw Common room refurbishing has taken most of the budget, but he doesn't seem terribly concerned with that. He's convinced that Slytherins are an oppressed group, as evidenced by the conspiracy of Severus' paperwork supposedly getting lost in the application process."
"My deepest sympathies."
"Thank you." She took a jar of cinnamon candies and slid it towards Hermione. "Would you like one?"
"No thank you." Hermione forced herself to sit up straighter. "I already had too much to eat at dinner."
"Just as well." Minerva slid the jar back to its original position.
"Is there anything in particular you wanted to discuss with me?" Hermione asked.
"Yes," Minerva swallowed. "It is about the search for the Defense Against Dark Arts Professor."
"Oh?" There was a flicker of interest in Hermione's eyes.
"I hope you know that you are a valued member of this school. You have brought a new and refreshing energy to Muggle Studies. Everyone is appreciative of your contributions, your intelligence, and the fact that you make Severus tolerable to be around."
"Thank you," Hermione's grin widened at the last line.
"It is due to our need for you to remain in the position Muggle Studies professor that I felt it necessary to tell you in person you will not be going further along in the application process."
"Excuse me?" The color drained from her face.
"Yes, good Muggle Studies professors are too difficult to find for us to just let you apply for another position. So, I'm keeping you in your old position and refusing to interview you."
"You won't even hear me out?"
"No."
"B-but I want to change careers while staying here. Surely you can understand that."
"I do, but you are too irreplaceable as a Muggle Studies professor to release."
"If you need another Muggle Studies professor I can give you a few names. There are some people who are finishing up their studies at the Wizarding College of Konkrel who would be excellent replacements."
"That won't be necessary," Minerva answered. "We would rather you remain in your position."
"Why?" Hermione asked.
"Because you're the brightest witch of your age, meaning you should be teaching to your strengths."
"What is that supposed to mean?" Her voice lowered.
"It means you're meant for academic work."
"Yes, which is why I'm here."
"Then you understand my position."
"No, I don't, because Defense Against the Dark Arts is an academic position too. In fact, there are people building on some of the spells I devised for the war as we speak. I have contributed to that field, and can continue to do so."
"I know, and you created some brilliant and innovative spells."
"I didn't just create either," Hermione raised her voice. "I co-founded Dumbledore's Army. I led them along with Harry. My work was invaluable in winning the war and keeping the students educated on how to combat the dark arts during Umbridge's reign."
"And you were brilliant in all that."
"Yes, and that's when I was a teenager. Just imagine what more I can do now that I've had time to research and perfect some of the spells I've created."
"You've been researching Defense Against the Dark Arts?"
Hermione gave her a small nod.
"Oh," Minerva felt bile crawl up her throat. Of course the girl would continue her research. She wouldn't have so much as considered applying if she wasn't prepared to demonstrate her academic prowess. Even as an adolescent she hadn't done anything halfway. Why would this be different?
"I'm better at it now than I was then," she argued. "I can prove it if given the chance."
"I know you want to, but," Minerva looked at Hermione's quivered leg. "Sometimes things don't work out."
Hermione glanced at Minerva before looking at her leg. In silence, they stared at the spasming appendage until Hermione said in a low voice, "it's because I'm crippled, isn't it?"
"You shouldn't call yourself a cripple," Minerva turned to her. "You only demean yourself when you do."
"I'm demeaning myself?" Hermione's other muscles tightened. "I'm not the one who has just discounted all my previous work in the most demeaning way possible."
"I'm not demeaning your work," Minerva argued. "I appreciate all the contributions you've made during the war and now."
"But not enough to consider me for this position."
"Please understand, I am only trying to protect you."
"Protect me from what?" She demanded.
"Defense Against Dark Arts is a very physical subject. You must control dangerous, dark creatures, supervise duels, and have quick reflexes to protect yourself and the students. It is not for someone who," Minerva twisted her lips as she considered her next words carefully.
"Someone who what?"
"Sometime who will struggle to teach the course properly."
"Teach the course properly?"
Minerva recoiled. It was rare to hear Hermione raise her voice, much less yell. Still, the woman's face was red, and her hair crackling from her magic, the same crackling dark magic infecting her leg.
"I am more than capable of teaching that course properly!"
"From an academic standpoint, yes," Minerva kept an even tone. "But as stated earlier, you will need to supervise duels, and will need to control dark creatures. Can you honestly say you can do it for nine months of the year?"
"Yes, I can say that."
"Tell me how you plan to protect yourself from a stray hex if you can't balance yourself without a walker or cane? How do you plan to react in enough time while in a wheelchair?"
"There are spells I can use which will help."
"Which ones?"
"There's Protego, and Protejează-mă to name a few."
"Those are shields, but can you fire spells?"
"Of course I can."
"Can you do it as quickly as others can, or does the inability to move your left leg dull your reflexes?"
"Yes I can do this." Boiling tears came to Hermione's eyes. "I could show you how well I can teach this course if you will just give me a chance."
"You can barely get up some mornings from the pain in your leg. How can you teach a course if you can't get out of bed?"
"I teach Muggle Studies just fine. I get out of bed for that. This is no different."
"Muggle Studies is a course students could miss and not be too severely affected."
"What does that mean?"
"It means a student can miss a day and not fall behind too much. It wouldn't affect their education too much if you cannot teach a few classes."
"Muggle Studies is a class just like Defense Against the Dark Arts."
Minerva shifted her focus to the black ink pot on her right.
"So you admit Muggle Studies isn't as important as Defense Against the Dark Arts, that I'm only here because you pitied me." Tears were streaming down her face.
Minerva refocused her attention on her employee. "I'm saying it's easier to readjust plans in your current course than in Defense Against the Dark Arts."
"Severus and Neville have promised to help pick up on the slack those days," Hermione argued. "We have a workable plan."
"They can't drop everything for you, especially if they attend academic conferences in their own fields. Both could be gone for days, and there would be nobody else who could help. You will be alone, and you will have to account for that."
"I know those days will be hard. I will think of something."
"You can't even reach the Quidditch Pitch in your wheelchair. If you can't reach the Quidditch Pitch, how can you teach a class?"
"I've been telling you for years that the Quidditch Pitch is inaccessible," Hermione argued. "If it's rained, or if there's snow, I can't wheel myself there because the path is too moist. You need to widen the side door, create a concrete path to the Pitch, allow me to have a wheelchair that can traverse over wet ground, and give me an elevator or something so I can reach the professors' box."
"If you can't reach a Quidditch Pitch, you can't teach Defense Against Dark Arts," Minerva's voice was firmer.
"I won't be outside. I'm perfectly capable of getting around inside if the castle creates ramps and smooths the floor for me."
"The fact that the castle must do all these things should already tell you that there are some things you are incapable of doing."
"No, it tells me that it's the only thing in this school that cares whether or not I can get from one place to another."
"Hermione, I will not argue with you any longer," Minerva spoke to her as if she was a defiant Slytherin. "You will not advance in the hiring process and that is final."
"Th-that's it then?" Hermione's voice cracked. "Even with Severus, Neville, and Harry behind me, I can't progress in the process? Even though I've been here for four years, I won't even be considered?"
"I'm sorry," she softened her voice. "I must do what is best for you and the school."
"All I need is a chance," she sniffed. "I only want a chance to prove myself."
"And I've given you a chance," Minerva answered. "I gave you a chance when no one else would hire you."
Hermione blinked before taking a shaky deep. Then, she wiped her eyes. "I know, and I appreciate that."
"This isn't an indictment on you or your intellectual abilities," Minerva began.
"No, you just don't want a cripple as a Defense Against Dark Arts professor,"
"Please stop calling yourself a cripple. You are much more than that."
Hermione used her walker to stand. "Am I?"
With a parting glare, Hermione limped towards the door.
Minerva watched her leave. When the door shut behind her, she slouched in the chair and shook her head.
Someday Hermione would understand it was all for the best. Minerva only hoped that day came sooner than later.
