"He'll be coming at three-thirty," Hermione whispered.
"Deirdre mentioned that," Angelina smiled at the tall strawberry blonde.
Deirdre nodded. "We have everything we need for tomorrow. Are you absolutely certain the teachers know nothing?"
Hermione nodded. "Harry, Ron and I are coming early to get Hagrid away. He knows nothing, so he can't be held accountable either."
Josh Levine knit his dark eyebrows looking from Angelina to Deirdre. "I still don't understand why you girls don't release him at night?"
Angelina rolled her eyes and cast an exasperated look his way. "Because we don't want Hagrid to be blamed for releasing him, yeah?"
Deirdre nodded. "Which will happen if Buckbeak disappears without a trace in the middle of the night."
"Aren't Ravenclaws supposed to be smart?" Angelina challenged.
Josh smirked. "So are Jewish boys, I must be an exception."
"Aren't you second in our year?" Hermione asked.
"Second to a bushy haired brat two years my junior, so I can't be that smart," he rolled his eyes, but the smirk suggested he was just heckling (she hoped!). "There goes my law career."
"Oh, don't you get started again!" Angelina groaned. "At the rate our quidditch team is going I'll never play for England. So much for that free-ride to Merlin & Morgan Magical Law."
Deirdre offered a smile to Angelina. "You're brilliant. You'll be an incredible lawyer."
Did they all have plans? Hermione still hadn't a clue what she wanted to do with her life, and they all had it figured out. She somehow surrounded herself with clever, mature people who outpaced her at every step. She knew she should have just been happy for them, and hope Angelina was wrong about her career being shot at sixteen. She turned to Deirdre wishing she wasn't the only one who failed to grow up. "What do you want to do, Deirdre?"
Deirdre tapped her pink quill to her lips. "Honestly?" she looked away, growing pink under her freckles. "I-erm-I think I want to be a professor. I like the idea of teaching. I also love herbology and potions...but...I don't think that'll happen. I'm not sure people would trust me with their kids."
"Why?"
Hermione couldn't imagine someone more nurturing than Deirdre. But it was easy to be riddled with self doubt.
"Well," Deirdre bit her lip. "Because I'm trans."
"People aren't so stupid as to-" Hermione started but stopped. "I'm sorry, Deirdre."
"Fuck them," Angelina spat. "Deirdre those arses have no bearing on what you can and can't do."
Deirdre blushed again and smiled weakly, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear. "Thank you."
"What about you?" asked Angelina.
"Erm..." Hermione bit her lip. "Actually I need to go. Don't worry, Angelina, I'll have Hagrid gone before you assemble."
Hermione mulled over the plan. She hoped it would work, but considered her other option, clutching the time turner beneath her robes. Couldn't she go back to a time Hagrid was surrounded by witnesses and just release Buckbeak? Would anyone be the wiser?
But if I were seen...or if I saw myself...FUCK!
Hermione sighed and just had to hope the current plan would work. Angelina and Deirdre were smart, she was certain they knew what they were doing. She descended the stairs putting it, the abundance of Lilies and everything else from her mind. She still didn't trust her father not to try and glean her surface thoughts. If that was what he did last year...
I'll ask Lupin about it after we get the Buckbeak situation sorted out. Speaking of Lupin...
"I wouldn't say that, Severus," Lupin said, with a gentle, sympathetic smile on his face.
Her father's pale face was impassable, as he avoided eye contact with the other man. "I almost wish I could be so naive."
"Severus," he sighed.
Since when the hell did you two just talk? Something is clearly...
"Oh, hello, Hermione," Lupin waved.
"Right," her father pinched the bridge of his hooked nose. "We'll talk about this later," he whispered. "Hermione, with me, please."
"Is everything alright?" Hermione gestured to Lupin's vanishing silhouette.
"It's nothing, love," he said, too quickly.
Hermione followed her father back to his office trying to think of an answer to the question she knew he was about to ask. She sat opposite from him, staring at her clasped hands rather than him. She imagined this might have been normal, but still...
"Have you put any thought into what you'll tell Professor McGonagall during career counselling?" he asked.
I'm thirteen...I.. Though she couldn't use her age, not really. Harry was the same age and wanted to be an auror. Ginny was younger and wanted to play Quidditch professionally.
What the hell is wrong with me? she watched red droplets form beneath her finger nails. Why didn't she know?
Don't you have more important shit to think abou-not here! You stupid piece of shit!
"Hermione?" he asked waving a hand in front of face.
"Oh," Hermione shook her head. "Sorry, sir. I-erm-I-erm- I guess I don't-erm-I-"
"I see," he folded his arms across his chest. "I hadn't any clue when I was your age either."
"Really?" Hermione squeaked looking up at him.
"Indeed," he nodded stiffly. "A concern I brought up when it was suggested you advance two years. Now, you excel in academic work, so I don't imagine it'd be unrealistic for you to secure a position here. I've mentioned before, you'd be very well suited to work as Librarian-"
Honestly! Hermione tuned out the rest of his suggestion. She spent her whole damn life at Hogwarts, so why the hell would she want to work there too? He didn't even like his job, so why was he pushing so hard for her to be work there? Hermione didn't want to live under her father's nose until she died, why didn't he understand that?
"No, Dad, I-" Hermione shook her head. "I don't want to do any of that."
"Did you not just say you didn't know what you wanted?" he sighed pinching the bridge of his nose. "Hermione you can't-"
"I-want-to-be-an-investigative-journalist!" Hermione said at top speed.
She entertained the idea before, surely, but this was the first time she felt it. She thought of the work she did with Luna, Skylar Deirdre and O'Malley, scoping places out and writing it down. The time with Hiro and Sayaka cracking down on the Library bandit or working with the House Elves to tell their stories. Yes, that was what she wanted.
"An investigative journalist?" he raised a skeptical eyebrow.
"Y-yes, sir," she nodded stiffly.
"I see," he sighed lifting her face by the chin. "And is that something you truly believe your capable of? It requires quite a bit more than writing a couple jokes at the expense of a person you don't like."
Of course I fucking know that! Hermione wanted to snap back. She caught the library bandit...That was Hiro, you thought it was Sayaka. She exposed Lockhart...Nothing happened there. She knew it was Quirrell...Too late. What about the elves in Mahoukatoro? Sayaka did that... Suddenly Hermione's new found desire extinguished like with a pang. She thought she'd finally found her calling, but her father was right. She wasn't good enough...every mystery she'd solved was the product of luck or more talented friends. He was too kind to say it outright, but she took his meaning.
"It's very demanding and you regularly respond poorly to stressors," he reminded her. "Hell, you fall apart during examinations...I'm loathe to imagine the effect such a career would have on your health."
"Y-yes, sir," she sighed. Translation: you'll never make it...
"Which actually reminds me," he said looking through a stack of notes. "You've been doing the exercises Counsellor Amir sent, yes?"
No... "Yes, sir," she nodded.
"I don't believe lying to me is going to yield any benefit, Hermione," he stared at her, the weight of disappointment palpable in his black eyes.
Hermione bit her lip and averted her gaze to her scarred hands. It wasn't fair. Even with the time-turner, she had no time for Amir's stupid exercises. Lives hung in the balance, an innocent (possibly) man might lose his soul while another got away Scott-free as the world believed him dead. Not to mention the halted investigation into her mo-don't think about that.
"You're starting tonight. I can't and won't pry into your progress but I can ask Amir if you've been corresponding with him. Something I expect an affirmative in when I ask next week. Am I understood?"
Hermione shrank under her father's gaze. "Yes, sir."
Lupin covered his mouth as he laughed. "Merlin, you were always hilarious."
"If you could relay that to my daughter, it'd be greatly appreciated," Severus rolled his eyes but smirked.
"It'd fall on deaf ears and you know it," Lupin teased before looking up at him, his expression more serious, but still smiling. "You know, Severus, I sometimes wonder if things had been different back then how things might be different now."
Severus shook his head. The thought crossed his mind more in recent months. Severus's days were plagued with the thought before. What if he never called Lily "mudblood", what if they were still friends. What if he simply accepted her choice? Would she still be alive? Recent months the questions extended to the man before him. Something in him wanted to trust, wanted to befriend Remus Lupin...yet, there was too much history. Lupin made his life...he could see the extensions of olive branches for what they were now, but his doubling down of mocking him in front of Potter and Black made it meaningless. Yet...there was definitely something about him.
"R-" he corrected. "Lupin, what's past is past and I've no interest in discussing it."
"And now?" he asked, wringing his hands.
"Stop it," Severus hissed. "You're trying to befriend me and you're being kind to my daughter only to absolve yourself of guilt. You think I don't know this isn't real?"
"I wouldn't say that, Severus," he offered a weak smile and hand.
"I almost wish I could be so naive," he sighed.
Why did he say he would talk to Lupin later? He didn't want to. Lupin was-he was a complication. When they were boys he made his life hell. Lupin had to live with that guilt. And..
No, letting Lupin into my life doesn't stop there. I have a daughter to think about, he reminded himself. Hermione's faltering stability couldn't let an adult in just to abandon her in a manner of months. Chances were after June neither of them would ever hear from him again. Sure, he could open himself to whatever the hell was going on between them. If Lupin up and left, he could take it. Hermione couldn't.
Severus wasn't simply protecting himself from whatever it was, but Hermione. It would devastate her.
He just wants to be friends, how would that impact her? It's not like he's-
Severus shook his head and made his way to Lupin's office. He'd end this nonsense-whatever it was- now before it got out of hand.
"Severus?" a familiar voice said.
Lupin stood before him with a series of thick volumes spilling from his arms. Perhaps he had just left the library and was headed back to his office.
"Lupin," he nodded, taking the excess volumes. "Just the man I wanted to see. I-"
"Hi, Hermione!" another voice from not to far away sounded.
"L-Luna!" Hermione's familiar squeak followed.
The two men turned to see the girls kneeling on the floor. Hermione dropped several scrolls which Luna Lovegood helped her to recover, regaling his daughter with some tale or other. Hermione hid behind her veil of bushy brown hair, avoiding eye contact and giving minimal responses. He overhead the girl apologize multiple times.
"You know, Severus," Lupin mused. "Watching those two reminds me of you and Lily."
That was uncalled for. Severus's mind was filled with images of Lily playing in a field, practising errant magic in the corridors, laughing, crying and in general, living. Lily with her nose in a book while Severus stole glances in admiration over his own volume. And finally a memory of them together in a corridor during their third year.
"You startled me!" Lily snapped picking up dropped books.
Severus knelt down to help her. "Sorry, Lily. I-here, let me help."
"It's fine," Lily sighed. "It's just-erm-I'm sorry, Sev, I just-guess I'm lost in thought."
"Your mum?" he asked offering a smile.
"And Tuney," she nodded. "She keeps saying Mum's my fault-I just-" she shook her head and sighed. "I sometimes think-oh, thank god I at least have you."
Severus's heart leapt and he placed his hand on hers. "Really?"
"Of course," she forced a smile. "You're my best friend."
How he wished he appreciated that at the time. Instead he wasted time feeling as though he'd been lead on. She needed a friend and he instead...he looked up at the girls down the corridor. He didn't see what Lupin was talking about, and frankly didn't want to. He was unsure who was Lily and who was himself in Lupin's mind, but Hermione hadn't the capacity to betray a friend the way he had. And he'd never let anyone do that to her. As long as he was around he was certain no one could.
Hermione shrank from Lovegood's questions, apologizing again. No, luckily Lupin was very much off base here.
With a pang. He inhaled. "I just remembered I've fallen behind on marking. I'll speak to you on a later date."
"Of course, Severus," he said, knitting his eyebrows in confusion.
He doesn't even know why saying that was as bad as it was, does he? he turned before stealing one last glance of the scene.
Potter rounded the corner and helped Hermione to her feet, asking something that caused her to evade his gaze. Lovegood linked her arm in Hermione's and smiled treating Potter to some story or other. Lupin waved Potter over, and he said something to the girls. Hermione slumped her shoulders and turned her attention to Lovegood.
At this point Hermione wondered if there was even a point to trying to see Lupin. She'd never get to ask him her questions. Between her father's inexplicable comradery with a man he professed to hate and Harry's more important questions...Hermione would never get a chance. Lupin wasn't friends with her father back then, there was chance he might not know who he dated.
There's so much more important to worry about, you stupid piece of shit.
"Hermione?" McGonagall opened the door to her office and beckoned her in. "I'm ready for you know."
Lee Jordan walked out of the room with a broad smile on his face and an itinerary in hand. She wondered if she'd leave as happy. She stood on his tip-toes as they passed each other.
"Is it bad?"
"Not at all!" Lee smiled. "I'm on track to broadcasting with WWC! And with your record? It'll be brill!"
"Great," Hermione squeaked. "Congrats."
"G'luck, kiddo!" he ruffled her hair.
"I'm only two years younger than you!" she groaned.
"You can give the girl a grief on your own time, Mr Jordan," McGonagall sighed. "Hermione, if you please."
Hermione held her breath and followed McGonagall into her office. She sat opposite her and wondered if it was as painless as Lee made it seem. Though Lee knew what he wanted to do and Hermione...she wasn't good enough for the job she wanted.
Or your father's just an arse...
McGonagall's severe expression softened and she offered a ginger newt from a glass bottle on her desk.
Hermione smiled and shook her head. "No thank you, Professor."
"Careers counselling," McGonagall pulled up Hermione's file. "I never thought it would be so soon. Even if it were on time, I remember you knocking things off my desk and tying to dissuade you from chewing on chess pieces."
A familiar warmth rose to Hermione's cheeks and she tried not to squirm. Was the counselling going to be McGonagall endlessly reminicing about the few times she watched her as a baby? Hermione didn't want to hear any recollections about twenty questions, potential tantrums she forgot or anything else. She figured there was a reason no one remembered being a baby and she was happy for it.
"Oh," McGonagall mused. "One summer Albus sent your father off for a week or so. After reminding him that it'd be better for you to stay here-which was hard, mind you- Albus, Hagrid and I took turns watching you. You must have been two. You drew all over the first page of paper for Transfiguration Quarterly," she laughed waving her wand. "I still have it."
McGonagall presented Hermione with an aged parchment with black-and-white drawing of a bearded man composed of sloppy triangles and a cat(?) with stripes overlying an introduction to negative side effects of long-term transfiguration on humans. Hermione drew this, over something McGonagall had worked so hard on a life time ago. She wondered why she kept it.
"You must have had to rewrite it," Hermione looked away. "I'm sorry."
"For being two?" McGonagall laughed. "Hermione, that's not why I'm showing you this. I just-I suppose it's just odd to think of you as someone who needs career counselling. Not one of us see a bright young woman who'll be an adult in five years when we look at you."
"Four," Hermione corrected. "Wait, he was gone for a week? What did the headmaster have him doing that would take that long? I don't-"
McGonagall took the page back and cleared her throat. "It was so long ago, Hermione. And I'm old, I don't recall. Let's get started, shall we? With how well you're doing here and overseas, there's nothing off limits. Have you considered being a professor? By the time you're trained some of us will be retired."
What the hell? Why does everyone want me to work here?! Hermione shook her head. "No, Professor. With all due respect, after a lifetime here, I think I'd like to go elsewhere."
"Of course," McGonagall nodded. "Did you know what elsewhere is?"
Hermione bit her lip. "I think-erm-I think I want to be an investigative journalist. I know that it requires a lot, and-erm-and that I might not be the best but I-I'll work at it. I know it's what I want. I know I'm not good enough now but I can be!"
"Who on earth fed you that cock and bull?" McGonagall scoffed. "You're clever, curious, and damned stubborn. You'd be great at something like that."
"Really?" Hermione's voice caught.
"You'll be leagues above the likes of Skeeter and her ilk by the time you're done, girl," she smiled and squeezed her shoulder.
Hermione bit her lip and a furious blush rose to her face. She clasped her hands digging her nails in deep into her flesh and tried to steady herself. Someone thought she could...she wasn't doomed to fail, she wasn't- Don't fucking cry, she chided herself.
McGonagall smirked. "But you better write home."