AN: Thank you for all the support! It is very deeply appreciated!
Was it wrong for Hermione to be relieved that Severus was failing to connect with any of the women he met?
She sat upright on her bed, Persuasion in her hands. A few minutes ago, she had extinguished her candles, leaving only the light of the moon to illuminate her room. Reading had been a futile endeavor. Perhaps it was the buzz of the alcohol or the residual joy of getting that interview which made it difficult to focus, or perhaps it was a combination of both. Regardless, no matter how many times she tried to absorb herself in her book, her mind wandered to Severus' deep, rich laugh, the spark in his eyes as he discussed potions, and the way he smiled at her in a way he did with no one else.
It wouldn't be accurate to say Hermione took pleasure in his suffering. Merlin knew Severus could use a break from meddling headmasters who saw him as nothing more than a pawn they could mold in their image. Still, she didn't know how she felt about him meeting other women, and possibly falling in love with one.
If he found someone with whom he was compatible, what would become of Hermione? Would he continue to spend hours speaking with her in the faculty room, or would they only exchange pleasantries? What would this other woman say about their friendship? Would she ask him not to do things with her such as celebrate her accomplishments, or would they form some kind of triad, three friends, two of whom dated, one who was once again on the outside looking in?
A twinge ran up her left leg, bringing her to attention. At some point, she needed to focus on making more friends. Living in a castle wasn't conducive to socialization. Neither was struggling to enter inaccessible buildings, or listening to people stumble around the fact she was disabled, assuming they even acknowledged her existence. When had using assistive devices made her less than human?
She exhaled and looked out the window. Whatever happened, she wanted to remain Severus' friend. She needed him, and part of her hoped he needed her too.
Whatever happened, he would remain her best friend.
"You're allowing the invalid to be interviewed?"
Minerva shook her head, ignoring her growing headache. It was terrible enough to hear Wren rant about how her date had abandoned her in the middle of a hike, and how meeting Severus had been far less pleasant than she'd envisioned. Now, she had half the Hogwarts Board of Directors questioning her decisions.
"I understand she is one of your employees," the man in fine red robes with a monocle continued. "Still, this needs to be a respectable process, meaning only people who can actually do the job should be interviewed."
"It would not look right if I did not interview my own employee," Minerva argued, cursing the day she ever met Severus Snape. Why couldn't he have left the hiring process alone? Why must she defend interviewing someone who had little chance of obtaining this position?
"Mr. Crenshaw has a point," a woman in an emerald satin dress spoke up. "We already know the invalid isn't getting the position, so why give her false hope?"
"Because she deserves a chance to prove herself, even if there is only a slight chance she'll be asked to perform a demonstration," Minerva replied.
"Having a slight chance of getting this position an understatement," the other woman argued. "She has absolutely no chance, and we all know it."
Minerva glanced at Lucius, who sat across from her. He's been uncharacteristically quiet throughout the process. A few times, he twisted his lips or fiddled with an application. At no point did he expose his emotions or thoughts.
"We understand Hermione was once your favorite student, and you will always have a soft spot for her," a man in fine blue robes began. "Still, we have to look at what is best for Hogwarts."
"And it isn't hiring an invalid," the woman argued.
"Her name is Hermione."
Everyone turned their attention to Lucius.
"We need to use her name when speaking about her. She deserves the same respect that any other candidate receives," Lucius began. "That means we stop calling her 'invalid' and start calling her Hermione."
Minerva stared at him, her eyes wide. When did Lucius become a champion of anyone's dignity? What was his game, or had he lost a bet with Severus too, forcing him to defend Hermione? If he had lost a bet, could Severus explain how he had bested him?
"Fine," the woman continued. "It was bad enough we hired someone like Hermione for the Muggle Studies program, but at least that didn't involve physical exertion. This is laughable."
"She deserves a chance though," Minerva answered.
"Agreed."
Once again, all eyes fell on Lucius.
"First and foremost, I must admit all eleven candidates are impressive in their own ways although," he crinkled his face, "the idea of Ernie MacMillan being the Defense Against Dark Arts professor is laughable. The last Hufflepuff instructor was atrocious."
"Wait," Mr. Crenshaw drawled. "You have no problem with an inval-"
Lucius glared at him.
"With Hermione being interviewed," Mr. Crenshaw corrected himself. "But a Hufflepuff is where you draw the line?"
"Yes."
"Why?"
"To begin with, Hufflepuffs are far less creative and far less impressive than Hermione."
"What is that supposed to mean?"
"It means two things," Lucius began. "First, Severus is one of her letters of recommendation."
"And?"
"He's one of the few Defense Against Dark Arts professors who was competent and sane. He knows the field better than almost anyone else."
"He's also your friend, which clouds your judgement," the woman added.
"His connection to the field means he can give me information on the candidates."
"I thought this was a neutral process," the man in blue robes argued.
"How neutral could it be if Cormac's uncle is on the committee?" Lucius looked at the man in blue robes.
"He isn't applying for this job."
"But he does know Ernie Macmillan, and I imagine he's told you more than a few things about him and his capabilities."
The man in blue robes' eyes drifted to the marble floor.
"Severus has told me some of her plans for running the class," Lucius continued. "If he is correct in stating she can pull her ideas off, then she is nothing short of revolutionary."
"Then she can go to a university, perform her spells, get published, and take things from there," Mr. Crenshaw argued.
"You would rather revolutionary research be done at a university than Hogwarts?"
A silence fell over the room, no one having the courage to say what they believed.
"I want to see her demonstration," Lucius concluded.
"Then schedule a time to see it when we aren't looking into job applicants," Mr. Crenshaw argued.
"If we don't watch this demonstration than someone from a university will. If they won't, then someone from Drumstrong or Beauxbotoms will."
"Oh for the love of Circe," the woman rolled her eyes.
"This could be exactly what Hogwarts needs."
"A cripple who can't walk on her own, much less take on a werewolf?"
"No, a creative mind who can elevate Hogwarts from a respectable institution to a revolutionary one."
The woman bit her lower lip.
"Think of it this way, we're still suffering from the war. People are wary of bringing their children here due to the recent history of violence. Others see us as just another Wizarding school which has grown stale. We need innovation, something to set us apart from other places," Lucius argued. "People are opting to send their children elsewhere, or homeschooling them. We need something to restore the reputation of Hogwarts, something that will force the world to sit up and take notice."
"Katie Bell has thought of some impressive spells. If you want revolutionary research, interview her."
"True, which is why I'm fine with interviewing her, though," he frowned. "She's much too Gryffindor for my liking."
"Hermione is a Gryffindor, and you're fighting tooth and nail to interview her."
"Yes, but Severus has been a wonderful influence on her. He's dulled some of her Gryffindor traits, or at least made them less noticeable. I trust under his influence she will continue to be less intolerable."
"In other words, you'll find new ways to control her once she's hired."
"No more than I will find ways to control any other candidate." He smirked.
The other woman frowned.
"I suppose there's no harm in interviewing Hermione," the man in blue robes noted. "We all know she won't make it past this stage. Even if it gives her false hope, I suppose we owe it to her for all she's done."
"What if she does well?" Lucius asked. "We're all assuming she'll do poorly, but she could be one of the most impressive candidates Hogwarts has ever seen.
"You're really pulling for her to go through, aren't you?" the woman noted.
"I'm pulling through to see another person fly without the aid of a broom, and for her to bring that skill to Hogwarts."
"Wait," the woman's eyes grew. "You're asserting she can fly?"
"At the moment she is unable to do so, but I can say there are some interesting possibilities, especially with Severus instructing her in how to fly," Lucius answered.
"If she can fly, she has my attention."
"As she should."
The other Board members and Minerva sat in a contemplative silence.
"We are at the crossroads," Lucius continued. "We can choose the status quo, or we can choose progress. I expect we will make the right decision."
"Indeed we will," Minerva drawled wondering what Lucius' game was, and how much damage he would cause before he was declared the winner.
Was is wrong for Severus to be relieved that he was failing to connect with any of the women he'd met?
Severus sat at his chair beside his fireplace, a copy of Potions Monthly in his hands. He had extinguished the candles in preparation to retire, but wanted to retain the warmth of the fire. Reading was proving to be a foolish endeavor. Perhaps it was the buzz of the alcohol or the residual fatigue from his ill-fated hike which made it difficult for him to focus, or perhaps it was a combination of both. Regardless of how much Severus tried to focus, his mind wandered to Hermione, her warm laugh, her the way her eyes glistened when something captured her interest, and that genuine smile she gave him every time they conversed.
Sometimes it surprised him that he and Hermione had become such close friends. When she'd first arrived at Hogwarts, he'd wanted little to do with her. What he didn't realize were the dark corners he inhabited during staff meetings were often the only place where one could navigate with an assisted device. Through her persistence, she'd managed to strike up several conversations with him. To his surprise, she was easy to converse with. Her know-it-all attitude had been replaced with genuine knowledge, and creative insight. Now, he considered her the best friend he'd ever had.
It was doubtful he'd ever find someone to capture his heart. If by some misfortune he did, then he would remain Hermione's friend. Of that much he was certain. He refused to allow their relationship to be reduced to the mere exchanging of pleasantries. Any woman he met needed to respect Hermione's role in his life. If she did not, then she wasn't worth his time.
The ache in his legs intensified, signaling the need for more Ibuprofen. Whatever happened, he needed to focus on the people in his life who cared for his well-being. Too many people only saw him as a war hero. It was as if after his past was revealed at the end of the trial, he became less than human. Instead, he was a symbol, someone people struggled to talk to for fear of how he'd react. When had being the victim of unrequited love made him more than human?
He sighed and looked into the fireplace. Whatever happened, he wanted to remain Hermione's friend. He needed her, and part of him hoped she needed him too.
Whatever happened, she would remain his best friend.
