AN: So after reading your comments and reflecting on how much time in the week I actually have, I am updating my new story every Friday! This will take pressure off me to write more often than I can, and I won't run the risk of my postings being interrupted. Of course this story will continue to update on Tuesdays and Thursdays since it is already complete, and this schedule seems to work for everyone.
Expect the first chapter of my new story tomorrow!
Thank you for all the support! It is very deeply appreciated!
Hermione was desperate, and there was no solution in sight. For weeks she had researched potential interview questions, had rehearsed her answers to them with an apathetic Crookshanks, had done her best to get plenty of rest and had only eaten the healthiest of meals. Still, one thing haunted her, something which could destroy her brilliantly crafted persona of a strong woman who was more than capable of teaching Defense Against the Dark Arts.
If she couldn't dress herself properly, her cause would be hopeless.
Granted, her wardrobe was not atrocious. Nothing was stained or torn beyond repair. Still most of her outfits were teaching robes or muggle comfort wear. The former was too plain, and the latter was inappropriate for any occasion outside of lounging in her quarters. Only one colleague had seen her in muggle comfort wear: Severus Snape. She intended to keep it that way.
She pulled out her golden, formal gown designed for those monotonous Ministry balls. Although people claimed it was beautiful on her, she doubted it was appropriate for a job interview. It screamed, "I'm trying too hard to hide my shaking leg."
Still, if that wasn't appropriate, what was? She scowled before throwing it on the bed.
"Are you going to throw your entire wardrobe onto the bed?" Severus asked as he caught her dress, and set it atop the other clothes she had tossed aside.
"No, just the clothes I won't wear," she leaned onto her walker as she continued scouring the closet.
"I do not think your choice of fashion will greatly impact the quality of your interview," Severus continued.
"You'd be surprised how much clothes matter," she tossed another teaching robe onto the bed. "If I do not look my best, Minerva will think I'll be hopeless as a professor. She'll think I'm a poor, helpless cripple who can't so much as put on appropriate clothing. "
"I highly doubt that," Severus sat beside the pile of clothes on her bed. "It is not as if Minerva does not know what you look like or how you typically dress. She also knows you are a capable professor."
"First of all, if she thought I was capable as a professor, she would not have turned me down for this interview the first time."
"She made a mistake and has since corrected it."
"Yes, but I don't want her to regret it."
"I promise you, she won't."
"I know you think that, but," she turned around. "You're supposed to be giving me advice on what to do for my interview tomorrow. Instead all you've done is sit, watch me throw clothes and give me a few words of comfort."
"You want me to give you fashion advice?" He raised an eyebrow.
"I know I sound desperate, but you've applied for this job before."
"And was only hired once."
"Fine, but you did get hired. What did you wear?"
"I wore my teaching robes for each interview, except for the one in which I was hired. I wore a speedo for that."
"A speedo?"
He smirked.
"What am I going to do with you?" She cracked a smile.
"I haven't the foggiest clue, though I do hope you keep me around. I quite like spending time with you."
"The feeling is mutual. That being said," her muscles tensed, "I still don't know what to wear. Even you couldn't get hired wearing your teaching robes."
"In Dumbledore's defense, the position was cursed when I applied. That may have had some bearing on his decision not to hire me."
"True," she continued shifting through her clothes. "I doubt you'd lend me your robes for my interview, not that they'd fit. Still, if they looked professional, they may work."
"You want to dress like me?"
She turned to him before twisting her lips. "I do not know. If it made me appear imposing it would not be terrible. Perhaps it would make up for any perceived weakness."
"You do not need to appear imposing, nor do you need to compensate for any weakness. As far as this job goes, you have nothing to fear," he answered.
"I can't believe that."
"I'm telling the truth. In a fair world, nothing would stand between you and this job."
"And here I thought you knew we didn't live in a fair world."
"Yes, but you are a capable witch who does not need my deplorable fashion sense to persuade anyone she is capable of doing her new job."
"I doubt dressing like you would work anyway," she frowned. "Knowing my luck, I would get the cape stuck in my wheelchair, or trip over it while using the walker. That would destroy any chance I have at being hired."
"Dress as yourself and allow the events to unfold as they will. It will all work in your favor."
She blinked.
"I mean it," he continued. "Allow your qualifications to speak for themselves, and pay no heed to your appearance."
"That's easy for you to say," she exhaled "You can walk into the room and make an impression. Even before I was disabled, I envied your ability to enter a room and take command of everyone around you."
"You can enter a room and command attention just fine. You can also take control of any situation with ease."
"When you walk into a room, you are standing erect. Your posture is perfect. I on the other hand…" She glanced at her shaking leg.
"You take control of a room just fine."
"It doesn't feel that way."
"You have to stop attempting to be someone you are not," he argued. "We both know you cannot move as I can. Use that to your advantage."
"How?" She snapped. "In case you haven't noticed, everyone is questioning my ability to perform this job because I am not like everyone else."
"No, you are unique, which makes you stand out. That will be enough to get you to the demonstration stage."
"I hope so, because I've been reading books on interviews. Everything seems so odd, and I'm out of practice So many of my books emphasize a confident gait, strolling in with a straight posture with long strides." She sighed. "Right now, I'm just hoping I don't need my wheelchair so I don't look like I'm less capable than the other candidates."
"If Minerva sees you as incapable, then she is the second worst headmaster we have ever had."
"Who would be the first?"
"Yours Truly."
"You weren't a bad headmaster," her eyes softened. "You kept the school together under impossible circumstances. Hundreds of students owe their lives to you because you did not allow the Carrows to kill them."
"Tell that to the other job applicants," he huffed. "I doubt they see things as you do."
"I will tell them the truth," she stood straighter on her walker. "I will make sure each of them knows that they are applying to work with one of the greatest spies who has ever lived, and the man who saved their arses more times than anyone can count."
"Careful. If you continued to speak that way, people may believe you like me," he smirked.
"Would it be so terrible if such a conception circulated?" She grinned.
"Only if you do not enjoy asking questions about how you could be unwise enough to befriend someone like me."
"I will admit that I am more used to asking questions than answering them, but for our friendship's sake, I will make an exception."
"You would subject yourself to scrutiny in the name of our friendship?"
"I would."
"Why?" He swallowed.
"To being with, you haven't appointed yourself my caretaker, nor do you allow anyone to believe I am helpless. You see me as a person. For those reasons, I appreciate you," she replied.
"Why would I treat you as anything other than a person? You have always been independent. I would never take that from you," he answered.
"You'd be surprised how many people would treat me as if I was a helpless damsel in distress," she muttered before returning her attention to the closet.
"Has any man ever done that?" His voice was softer.
"Not anyone I cared to remain friends with."
"Except Ron."
"No, not really." Her frown deepened. "The only positive thing I can say about Ron is that couldn't have cared less about being my caregiver. He expected me to get over my disability and be the woman he thought I should be."
"I can see why he wouldn't be your caregiver. To care about anyone else would require him to develop empathy," Severus noted.
"Yep," she took a deep breath before her hand touched on another hanger. Her eyes lit up as she pulled out the velvet black dress. "How does this look?"
"Elegant," Severus replied.
She draped it over her body as best she could. "Does it appear professional without appearing as if I am trying too hard?"
"It has potential," He scratched his chin.
"If it is inappropriate I need to know now."
"It is more than appropriate."
"Good, because I'm about out of dresses," she extended her arm while holding out the dress. "Could you please put it somewhere on the bed where I won't touch it while putting away my other clothes?"
"I'l just hold onto it." He took it from her.
"Even better," She balanced herself with her left arm as she pulled her wand from her right pocket. After whispering a spell, the discarded clothes floated towards the closet.
"I will try to see you as soon as I can after the interview," Severus began. "It depends on how quickly I can get out of my engagement."
"It was rather cruel of Minerva to schedule one of your blind dates on my interview day."
"But not unexpected."
"Oh? Why?" She turned to put the clothes away.
Only the clinking of the hangers going onto the rod could be heard.
"Why would you expect to go on a blind date during my interview?" She asked again.
"It has been over a week and a half since the Hestia debacle," he continued. "That's a fairly long time for her to go between two dates."
"I'm just glad she did not encourage you to go on another date with Hestia."
"I am somewhat shocked too, but given that Minerva understood how inappropriate her behavior was, she had no choice but to admit Hestia was a lost cause."
"Agreed." Hermione lowered her wand as the last of the clothes was hung. "Minerva may be meddling and may not always know what to say to me, but she is rarely outright cruel. I appreciated her apologizing for Hestia's words. It made me feel a little more seen."
"Indeed."
"That being said," Hermione hobbled towards Severus. "I would still be more confident if I could tell her I can fly before the interview."
"You are making progress. That should be enough to satisfy her," he answered.
"I do not know if she would see it that way. Learning to clear one's mind is one thing, but hanging onto the thought of flying when you are still terrified of flight isn't the most encouraging sign."
"Then I suppose it is time for more desensitization."
Hermione braced herself as Severus took to the air. He grasped her waist as she released the bars of her walker. Then, he lifted her two meters in the air.
As she floated, Hermione felt the weightlessness of her body. She flicked her wrists, which had begun to tire from pressing against the walker Her shaking leg calmed as it no longer bore the weight of her body. If she focused, she may be able to curl the toes in her left leg. It had been years since she'd been able to do so of her own free will. Yet, if she could do it now, anything may be possible.
Her toes were not interested in cooperating. Instead, they remained still. Perhaps when she flew they would curl as they once did.
"You're more relaxed than the first time I did this," he noted. "You aren't tensing or yelling at me to release you."
"I'm getting used to the height though I will admit part of my ease comes from you being in control."
"It does?"
"Yes," she curled her toes in her right foot. "I'm not afraid of falling or shooting up too suddenly when I fly. I know you won't release me to see if I can levitate myself, nor will you do anything to me without telling me first."
"You are correct," he answered. "But I can assure you, it is more liberating to be the one in control of your own flight, your own destiny."
"I can imagine," she replied as she imagined her body doing this on its own. She could almost feel her weightless body darting between obstacles, as quickly as she had once run. No, she would fly faster than she had ever ran, fly higher than her imagination had ever allowed her to comprehend. Buckbeak himself would be jealous of all the tricks she could do in the air. All she needed was to overcome her fear of heights, and her destiny would be hers.
"Are you ready to be released?" Severus asked.
She nodded.
He lowered her to the ground, only releasing her when she had a firm grasp on her walker and her feet were on the ground.
"I think I want to fly," Hermione began. "I think I want to feel the way I just did."
"Then we will make it a reality." Severus stood before her. "Somehow, we will make your dream of becoming a Defense Against Dark Arts Professor and your desire for flight come true."
"Indeed we will," Hermione smiled, knowing with Severus Snape on her side, she could accomplish anything she desired.