"We have herbology, charms and transfiguration before lunch," Hermione said coming over the time-table. "Then DADA...brace yourselves for that one."
"Aren't you supposed to be good at answering questions?" Ron teased around a mouthful.
"As you can see," Hermione rolled her eyes setting down her timetable. "I haven't been pulled out of classes, transferred and am still alive. I'm fine! I haven't a clue why you're asking. Honestly!"
Harry set his fork down and leaned over the table narrowing his green eyes and whispering. "Because if that's the way he spoke to you in front of us, we assumed it'd be worse when we left. The Dursleys don't even speak to me like that in public."
"I am begging you to stop comparing him to the Dursleys," she sighed. "Do you really think I'm going to fall apart at a couple of insults?" Hermione scoffed.
The two exchanged a knowing look and Hermione wanted to sink into the floor. They knew the answer to that since something Ron said a year ago had sent her to peices and had her weeping in the girls' toilets like Moaning Myrtle...a fate she almost suffered when Harry and Ron went looking for her, but found the troll and lured it into a room with an outside lock. Something that might have been smart had that room not been the girls' toilets she hid in. Luckily they heard her attempt to cast a spell and barged in to save her. Hermione remembered how useless she felt as she froze. A performance repeated several times during their attempts to prevent Voldemort from seizing the stone. She hoped she could be more useful this year...
"Great," Hermione muttered hitting her head on the table. "My friends think I'm too emotionally frail to handle a couple insults and my father thinks I can't think for myself. I think I've lost my appetite."
"He's not going to hoover over you all year again, is he?" Harry asked.
"I didn't think he was planning on it, but after trying to sneak the two of you in? I don't know..." Hermione sighed. "I don't even know why I did it to be honest...I should have known better. Nothing would have changed if I succeeded."
"Because you're a good person who wanted to try to help her friends?" Harry suggested. "So, you got to meet Lockhart. Is he as-erm-"
"As stupid as he seems?" Ron cut Harry off.
"Let people finish their sentences, Ron," Hermione grumbled lifting her head. "And I don't know about stupid, but he's certainly very oblivious. Man can't seem to spare a single thought toward anything that isn't himself. I expect him to drown in a still pool because he caught a glimpse of his reflection."
"If he insists on using me as a prop again I might just have to flood the floor of his office," Harry grumbled.
The three of them burst into laughter until a familiar flash of light and click blinded them.
"Bakka! To-!" Hermione started before she remembered she was back home. Other people take photos incessantly, and your friend is famous. Stupid piece of shit...
The ambush photographer was a very tiny boy with curly blond hair and grey eyes, he looked as fragile and tiny as her father claimed she was. He must have been a first year, where she didn't recognize him. The camera slung around his neck was high quality and comically large on him.
"Sorry!" she said.
The boy didn't seem to upset, instead he was looking rather starry-eyed at Harry, the prodigal son. It was easy to forget how some would stare at him between incidents. All three of them were so unassuming, only wanting to mind their own business, so the attention made each of them uncomfortable. They turned their heads down as the boy introduced himself.
"I'm Collin Creevy!" he beamed. "I've heard so much about you, Harry! Can I ask you to si-"
"Oh! Look!" Hermione pointed before anyone could overhear Colin ask for signed photos. "It's the owl post!"
Hermione spied three ravens among the mass of owls and forgot momentarily about having to arrange detentions with her father and the ensuing lecture. The thrill of letters from Japan that replaced her dread was replaced once again when a great tawny owl crashed into the Gryffindor table straight into a plate of toast in front of Ron, the table exploded into laughter and Ron's ears turned a violent pink.
"Oh no!" he said.
"It's okay," Hermione poked the shallowly breathing owl. "He's still alive. Might need a respite though, don't you little one?"
"It's not that," Ron gulped nudging a shaking envelope. "It's this! Mum's sent me a howler."
"What is that?" Harry and Hermione asked in unison.
"You don't know?" Ron asked incredulously. "Didn't read about them?"
"You have to open it right away, Ron," Neville whispered. "It'll burst if you don't."
Ron gulped again and opened the letter, which which silenced the laughter with a rumbling roar that echoed through the great hall: "HOW DARE YOU STEAL THAT CAR!"
The letter chastised Ron for what felt like an eternity in what she imagined was his mother's voice. She watched with the greatest sympathy as Ron flinched at the claims his father was facing an enquiry at work, and that they could have died of shame. The one blessing is that she'd never accused him of going mad or being completely stupid, though the letter screaming at him in front of all his peers lost Mrs. Weasley the points she earned with Hermione by not doing those. Where did Ron get off accusing her father of ruining her? Hermione kept that to herself and placed her letters in the book she was reading. "Shall we grab our bags?"
Ron and Harry leapt at the chance to leave and they ducked out of the Great Hall with their heads bowed and took a round about way to the portrait hole, to avoid the attention Colin or the howler would bring.
"Let's get to herbology before Colin finds us," Harry grumbled after explaining his excessive fanboying when they returned to the common room.
"I kind of feel bad for him," Hermione mused.
"I'm not the one who yelled at him Japanese," Harry said.
"I was taken aback from the flash," Hermione admitted feeling her cheeks flush. "My friend Toshio was constantly taking pictures of everything!"
"How'd you deal with him?" Harry asked.
"Assignments from the school paper," Hermione explained.
"Hi, Harry!" a voice called as they passed the Whomping Willow.
Professor Sprout stood by the tree wrapping the branches with bandages while Lockhart stood beside her beaming at the three of them. The typically cheerful, warm woman wore a rare scowl directed at him again.
"Hi, professor," Harry said.
"I've just been showing Professor Sprout how to treat the Whomping Willow!"
A rare groan escaped Sprout's lips as she turned to the three of them. "We'll be in the greenhouse today, chaps! I'll be there momentarily."
"This is perfect!" Lockhart beamed. "I've been wanting a word with Harry. You don't mind if he's a bit late, do you, Professor Sprout."
"As a matter of fact-"
"Lovely! I'll send him in after you lot."
Hermione and Ron mouthed a good luck to Harry and walked down with the greenhouse with a scowling Sprout in their company.
"We're so sorry, Professor," Hermione said.
"Oh, that man is going to destroy the Whomping Willow!" she moaned. "But you two didn't hear that from me, got it?"
Ron and Hermione nodded.
Hermione and Ron found their place along a long trough of potted plants with dark green ovular leaves beside a trio of Hufflepuffs, Hannah, Susan and Justin. Hermione examined the dark, veiny leaves and realized they were working with mandrakes! She had read so much about mandrakes and over the years helped prepare roots, flowers and leaves for classes. She had never once seen a live mandrake, with the exception of budding seedlings that she helped tend to over the years. These mandrakes would have formed faces on their roots! She never got to see them once their mouths formed. She was "too young and far too frail" according to her father.
"These are mandrakes!" she told Ron in an excited whisper. "Their flowers are used in ageing potions, their leaves can be used to reverse transformations and are used in animagi rituals and the roots-"
"Are you out for Professor Sprout's job?" Ron scoffed. "I don't see why you're so excited about a bunch of leaves."
"Because mandrakes are cool!" Neville agreed beside them. "They can do so many things...but they also have a cry that can kill you. That's, erm, less cool."
"Sorry!" Harry called popping between Ron and Hermione. "Did I miss anything?"
"Just Hermione waxing poetic about a bloody plant!" Ron scoffed.
"Harry, we're working with mandrakes!" she said, and her heart dropped as she realized only Neville seemed to give a damn.
The lecture began with a less frazzled Sprout telling them about the mandrakes and asking pointed questions here or there, rewarding correct students with points, earning both Hermione and Neville a sidelong glance from Ron when they refused to raise their hands. She finished the lecture by telling them at this point in their lives, the mandrake cry would only cause them to faint. The lot of them made sure they securely fastened a set of ear muffs over their ears, Hermione and Neville opting out of the scramble left Hermione with a set that matched Sprout's fuzzy pink ones but spared Neville the embarrassment as he grabbed the last normal pair. Everyone grabbed their mandrakes by the stem clusters and Hermione noticed a nervous glance from Sprout directed her way. She wondered briefly which of them would receive more of an earful if Hermione did faint.
They lifted their mandrakes to find a grey-brown fetal form with branch like appendages sprouting from folded "limbs" over its almost potato-like body. A face like that new born wailed with shut eyes and Hermione was reminded of a very underdeveloped baby constructed from plant matter. It seemed so different from the pictures in the books, and she hoped that it resembled something less human when they fully developed. She hadn't much time to think of it when Neville's eyes rolled into the back of his head and he fainted.
"Why," McGonagall grumbled. "Do you all keep coming to me? I don't have the power to convince the headmaster to sack him! It's the first day, Pomona!"
Severus smirked behind his book watching the conversation between Sprout and McGonagall.
"It's the first day for the students!" Sprout pouted. "We've had to deal with his massive ego for over thirty now!"
"We're adults, Pomona," McGonagall scowled. "We can handle a little ego. We've dealt with worse. Isn't that right, Severus?"
I had to linger to watch it unfold! "We have to stand by the headmaster, I'm afraid," he sighed. "And before you ask, I'm not okay with it. I just know the headmaster has his reasons."
"Which I imagine you're both privy to?" she asked looking from him to McGonagall.
McGonagall hesitated, her beady eyes drifting to a far corner of the room. They were both indeed privy to Dumbledore's reasons for hiring the idiot, but the sheer absurdity of it seemed to render the old woman incapable of coming up with a cover story. He rose from his chair and closed his book approaching the woman.
"I have a deep respect for the headmaster," he began. "But if there is one major flaw in the man, it's that he doesn't feel the need to explain himself. You are far from the only one who's suffered Lockhart questioning your expertise and making matters worse," he shook his head. "At least yours is only professional."
"Sorry, Severus," Sprout said. "That can't be easy given, erm, everything."
Everything being that he had now applied for the job several times, had Lockhart chosen over him, and now had to listen to Lockhart's unwarranted and useless bragging and "advice". The man had a comment on everything any of them did, and he was often wrong. Most recently Lockhart had thoughts his handling of Hermione. One of those would be enough to make him despise the arrogant prat, but all of them together made him loathe the man. At least he now had a point of commonality with his other colleagues. None of them could stand Gilderoy Lockhart.
"If I'm half as petty as lot make me seem," Severus mused. "I might just be enjoying my brief reprieve from most hated enough to endure our collective misery."
"Ouch," Sprout said looking at McGonagall.
"You really do hear everything don't you?" McGonagall scoffed. "Besides, even without Lockhart, you have competition for that role so long as Sybil, Argus and Kettleburn are here."
"I'm touched," he rolled his eyes. "A have a class, I suggest if you two want to continue your conversation that you find your way elsewhere, he'll be looking for company."
"How did we become a group of children staging a lockout?" Sprout gave an exasperated sigh.
Severus made his way from the staffroom to the dungeons with twenty minutes to spare. The first class for first years were many professors' favourite part of the year, but he never liked it. A bunch of eleven-year-olds that knew nothing and seemed to have never been taught to behave. And none of them ever seemed apt to perform or even listen. The most memorable first class he taught had to be the Gryffindor/Slythern class from last year, and that wasn't exactly memorable for good reasons. Between his daughter's head slamming against her desk in shame, Potter's cheek and Longbottom trying to melt the damn floor, he could only hope no new idiots try to top that performance.
First year Ravenclaws and Hufflepuffs filed into desks chattering about this and that. At least they wouldn't be terribly hard to manage, this year saw a very small batch of first years, which meant the Hufflepuff/Ravenclaw class this year was a mere fourteen (he was normally looking at twenty or more) and his Gryffindor/Slytherin class would be even smaller at ten (less were sorted into those to houses so he normally averaged sixteen to twenty). The class was composed of nine Hufflepuffs, five boys and three girls, and five Ravenclaws with two girls and three boys. Of the lot, the only silent one was a small girl with dirty blond hair who doodled absent-mindedly in her note book.
"Settle down and pay attention," he called leaning against his desk.
Like that thirteen pairs of eyes turned to him and the incessant chatter gave way to silence. He turned his attention to the little blond doodler but noticed a dark-haired girl nudge her in the elbow and mutter "Luna!"
"Oh, sorry!" she said, not quietly, and faced forward with large silver eyes.
He combed through the register, there was one Luna, Miss Luna Lovegood. There didn't seem to be any intention on her part, the girl seemed simply absorbed in her task, something that reminded him quite a bit of Hermione. That hyperfocus was in part endearing and in part annoying, he just hoped she didn't make a habit of it during his lectures.
"If I can impress nothing else upon you today," he said. "You need to know how important it is to pay attention. The smallest of mistakes when working with potions can be catastrophic. In fact, just last year a boy your age failed to pay attention and melted the first layer of this floor, furniture, his lab partner's cauldron and very nearly caused severe injury to his classmates. Luckily, it didn't come to that."
At this information, some covered their mouths, others looked for evidence of the damage while some speculated to the boys identity in whispers.
"Silence!" he called.
The lot of them obliged turning their undivided attention to him. Even Lovegood sat upright at attention.
"I'll be deducting a point from Ravenclaw for Miss Lovegood's inattention to emphasise the point," he explained. "But now that we know the importance of attention, we can begin."
"Thanks, Luna!" the four other Ravenclaws grumbled.
He continued with the lecture and progressed into questions about the potion at hand, which to his legitimate surprise Lovegood answered correctly with little trouble when called upon. Something better than her cohorts. Typically these students were the Percy Weasleys of the world, know-it-alls beaming with pride,or they were like Hermione, murmuring the correct answering before a futile attempt to shrink away before they could be called out by their peers. Lovegood did neither of these, smiling with an easy answer and speaking in a soft voice. He rewarded her back the point she lost and was unsurprised that her peers felt no need to acknowledge what she gained rather than what she lost. Severus didn't like to reward students for what he expected of them, but he felt bad for the girl.
Severus paired the students alphabetically (as random lots served him so poorly last year) and saw the Ravenclaw boy he paired with Lovegood roll his eyes at the pairing. He was reminded of the over-accommodating Hermione nervously smiling as she scrambled to do everything herself, but this girl seemed unfazed by the hostility. Does nothing bother you, girl?
He wondered briefly if Hermione had accessed that level of not giving a damn would she still have felt compelled to follow Potter and Weasley to a grave of their own design. The damage has already been done, comparing her to another child won't do a damn thing.
"I see none of you managed to destroy my classroom," he said at the end of the practical period. "Let's hope for at least the same level of success next week. I want chapter two read before class. Understood?"
"Yes, Professor Snape," they chorused.
That was surprisingly easy. I wonder if things are going as smoothly for Hermione...
After the second time that day Harry had been asked for an aside from Lockhart, he entered the room, taking a desk between Ron and Hermione looking rather pink and furious. Ron declared that he could "cook an egg on his face" which only made him grow redder, and Hermione buried her nose in Voyages with Vampires to hide her amusement. It wasn't fair, she knew it.
"He heard Malfoy's jape about 'signed photos' and wanted to talk to me," Harry grumbled. "I don't know which one I'm more angry with."
"Let's just hope that Ginny and Colin don't meet," Ron suggested. "I reckon they'd start a Harry Potter fanclub if they did."
Hermione looked up from her book to say something when she noticed the potted yellow flower on Lockhart's desk and buried her face in her book as she suppressed a giggle.
"That's the last thing Lockhart needs to hear, Ron!" Harry hissed. "Glad to see you're in good humour."
"It's not that, Harry," Hermione steadied her tone. "Look at his desk! It's a-"
"Great!" Ron groaned. "Bloody git has an admirer before the first day. Bloody brilliant!"
Hermione rolled her eyes. "It's a daffodil, Ron. It's s-"
"So?" Ron scoffed. "What's the type of flower have to do with anything?"
"It's scientific name is narcissus," Hermione explained at top speed and low volume. "It's an insult."
"I hate to tell you, Hermione," Ron said. "But sending someone flowers is never an insult. What, Snape tell you that after a boy gave you flowers in Japan?"
"Forget it!" Hermione rolled her eyes with an exasperated sigh.
"Hello, everyone!" Lockhart greeted beaming to the class before noticing the flower. "I see I've gotten another token from an admirer over lunch! Oh, my! The burden of fame, children."
Lockhart bragged about the accomplishments disclosed in his books for what seemed like an eternity, peacocking around the room like he was the champion of the world while he paired each exploit with a useless titbit about himself. Bitterness swirled inside her and she felt very much like her father as her loathing for the man grew with each arrogant statement. How could she have been so starstruck when they first met? No, no pay attention to class. Dumbledore wouldn't have hired him if he was no good. Anger is useless, and I refuse to feel it. He has flaws, okay, but listen...
"Of course I didn't get rid of the Bandon Banshee by smiling at her!" he concluded his ramble.
You are not making this easy!
"Pop quiz!" Lockhart grinned.
The entire class erupted into groans and cringed at the 54 question quiz as it was laid before them. All fifty-four questions consisted of questions about him! Not a single one had any baring on fighting the monsters in his books. Hermione actually missed Kaname and his surly manner, at least he taught them something useful! Hermione wasn't even sure if she were grateful or ashamed that she remembered the answers to all the questions. If anyone saw what Lockhart was quizzing them on...Wait! I can circulate this! Thank you Mahoukatoro Mercury!
"Oh my," Lockhart tutted. "It seems only Hermione remembered my favourite colour was lilac..."
Hermione promptly lowered her head to her desk at the mention of her name. Of course no one else bothered remembering something so trivial! Maybe she should have asked to transfer to Japan.
"Oh my, is she asleep?" Lockhart asked.
"Hermione," Neville poked her arm with his quill.
"Oh, sorry!" she whispered rubbing her eyes and readjusting. Maybe they'll talk less if I was "asleep" rather than embarrassed. Hermione poised herself for note taking.
Lockhart rambled once again about his various escapades across the globe with dark wizards and creatures and how it was his duty to prepare them for such horrors. He concluded his little monologue by gesturing to their lesson of the day, a rumbling cage covered with a black blanket.
"I must ask you not to scream!" he flashed an arrogant smile before dramatically throwing the blanket off the cage.
The class erupted not into screams, but into laughter. The cage was filled with writhing, thin blue bodies, looking very agitated and very hungry. They were attempting to fly but crashed into each other due to the lack of space. Hermione wondered if Lockhart cared that the Cornish pixies didn't have enough room to fly in the birdcage.
"Are those pixies?!" Seamus howled in laughter.
"Cornish pixies to be exact, young man!" he beamed. "But don't be fooled by their small stature! These are viscous creatures that will happily attack any who wonder into their territory!"
Neville gulped, but the rest of the class exchanged sceptical looks.
"I'm about to release them, but not to worry!" he called. "As long as I am here no harm shall come to you!"
With that he released the agitated pixies, and like a shaken nest of hornets, they took to the air with malicious intent. A blue cloud filled rose like a plume before they separated into quadrants to wreak maximum havoc. That's when the screaming did start. Hermione froze in spot watching them terrorize her classmates, one flew into her hair, getting caught in the curly tangles, which still failed to prompt her to action as she felt the frantic tugging on her scalp until Harry whacked it with a book, the visceral thud waking Hermione in time to see a flock finishing hanging Neville by his robes on the candleabra.
"Everything is under control, children!" Lockhart yelled before muttering a string of nonsense words and waving his wand to no effect.
Shit! "Immobilus!" Hermione cried pointing at the flock descending upon Ron.
"Thanks!" he gasped looking at the dropped pixies.
"No problem," she gasped before attacking a group of four pixies terrorizing Lavender and Parvarti.
All who could promptly left the room while Harry, Ron and Hermione took to immobilizing groups of pixies before throwing them back in the extremely crammed cage.
"You three seem to have a handle on this!" Lockhart gave a nervous chuckled. "I'll leave you to it!"
"You're not going to help us?!" Ron yelled immobilizing a trio near Neville.
"You three are more than capable. The only ones who did the assigned work. Cheerio!" and he ducked out.
Harry, Ron and Hermione spent the better part of a half-hour clearing the classroom. Once they had addressed the pixies, they turned their thoughts to Neville, Harry, Ron and Hermione all levitating him to slowly set him down. Hermione swiped her quiz from Lockhart's desk after setting the cage on it before the four of them left the room.
"Fucking git!" Ron seethed through gritted teeth. "I can't believe he'd do that!"
"We'd better not be late for potions because of him," Harry grumbled. "Snape'll have our skin!"
"I can't believe that man!" Hermione joined in the protests. "Cramming those pixies into such a small space, not even feeding them properly! No wonder they acted out!"
"Mistreating the pixies?! That's your concern?!" Ron scoffed. "What about us! We could have been hurt!"
Hermione looked down at her feet and dug her nails into her hand. Neville was hurt, not badly, but she should have cared more about that. "Are you okay, Neville?"
He nodded.
"I'm just, erm," Hermione bit her lip. "Look, he knows better! He's done so many things and-"
"He's said he's done so many things," Ron grumbled.
"You think he's a fraud?" Harry asked the other three.
"The thought's crossed my mind," Hermione admitted
"Is it true?" Severus asked after the other students filed out of the classroom.
Hermione adjusted the bag slung over her shoulder, looking rather exhausted and frazzled. The minor scratches on her cheeks and hands, shared by Potter, Weasley and Longbottom told him that what Finnegan and Thomas said regarding their lateness had been true. She sighed and shrugged. "Yessir, but it's-it's fine."
"It would seem you and I have very different definitions of the word 'fine'," he placed a hand on her head. "You should have fled with the rest of that lot. What, twenty of you and not one of you thought to leave and get help?"
"Erm..."Hermione shrugged again before turning her gaze to the ground. "I guess not, sir. We just wanted to make sure we could get Neville down without the pixies eating his face. Though I mean, erm, it's not like there was anything that could be done about it."
He mused for a moment, she was right. Dumbledore knowingly had a teacher who was trying to kill a student on staff and did nothing. Wilful neglect with dangerous creatures would earn him nothing. Especially given the perception of pixies held by most.
Hermione gave an exasperated sigh. "Honestly, he's probably going to spin it as trying to give us 'hands-on experience'. It's an easy enough claim, and whether or not people believe him, they'll be satisfied enough to drop it."
You have no idea how right you are...We've all willing chose not to launch formal investigations for much more serious offences. "Twelve and already so jaded," he sighed. "Given his abysmal handling of class today I'm going to have to go back on my decision not to instruct you on the subject myself."
"But-" Hermione started.
"But nothing, Hermione," he said. "You're not missing out on a whole year because-" the headmaster has it in his head it's possible to teach Potter modesty with that self-important git? "He was the only one who replied to the open-call."
"Really?" Hermione asked narrowing her eyes.
Why are you such a suspicious child? "If I was going to lie to you about something so small," he folded his arms over his chest. "Do you not think I would come up with something that would put an end to your objections?"
Hermione bit her lip and her eyes drifted to a far corner of the room. She didn't seem entirely convinced, and was now deep in thought. He'd raised her not to trust others, he shouldn't have been surprised when it backfired on him. And he had to admit, despite efforts to make amends, the previous year's events would still be forefront in her memory.
"The reason he was selected doesn't matter," he said. "The fact of the matter is that he doesn't seem to have the ability to teach you, and my daughter isn't going to be a whole damn year behind in one of the most important subjects," he turned back and opened his planbook. "Let's see, you're doing the readings, and we'll have to work around your detentions...you're a fast enough learner...yes, once a week should suffice." His eyes scanned the page looking for the best day. She'd hate him, but it'd have to be Saturdays.
"Would that not give me an unfair advantage over the other students?" Hermione asked.
"No, love," he sighed. "It gives the other students an unfair disadvantage. The students taking their OWLs and NEWTs this year have my utmost sympathy. However, my concern is you and I am in a position to do something about it. So I expect to see you Saturday mornings starting this week."
"Yessir," she said.
"Don't sound so enthused," he rolled his eyes before shutting the book. "Now, for the matter of your detentions. You may think it hardly seems fair that Potter and Weasley broke the law and only received a single detention and you face a whole month of them for simply aiding their entrance into the castle. But if you learn nothing else from me, little girl, remember this; Life's not fair. You will never receive the same level of leniency as Potter outside of this school. The sooner you can wrap your little head around that, the better."
"Yessir," Hermione nodded.
"We'll start tonight at eight. You'll be at my office then and not a second later. Understood?"
"Yessir," she nodded again.
"Very well, you may leave."
Hermione didn't need to be told twice, she barely wasted time in saying goodbye before rushing from the room at the fastest she could move while still pretending she was just walking. Probably off to make the most of the three and a half hours she had left. If the gag with the flower had amused her at all, it didn't exactly buy him good faith. Trying to bond with your daughter through making fun of a colleague? I still have no clue what I'm doing!