AN: Thank you for all the support! It is very deeply appreciated!
Hermione was trying too hard.
Severus sat on a chair beside her. She stood on her walker, her eyes squeezed shut. A few times they would twitch, indicating her mind's racing thoughts. Her hands clutched the bars and loosened their grip in a rhythm only known to her.
"You're trying again."
She opened her eyes and exhaled. Her body grew rigid as she returned her attention to him.
"Your body is too tense for you to clear your mind," he paused. "Would this exercise be easier if you sat?"
"No, if I want to fly I have to learn how to do it standing up." She inhaled. "I can do this."
"When you fly you'll be able to take off from anywhere, sitting or standing," he replied. "You can use the wheelchair instead of the walker if it would be more comfortable for you."
"No, it isn't my leg. Actually," glanced down at it. "It feels better than it has in days."
The shaking had lessened since Saturday, though the spasms remained.
"I have to learn to ignore my leg shaking, and I'm doing a decent job of it all things considered," she answered.
"Yet something is troubling you."
She nodded and straightened her posture. "It's the Defense Against Dark Arts job. Minerva is sending out the request for interviews sometime today."
"I see."
"All morning I've been eager for a response, eager to show everyone that I can in fact do this, yet," she exhaled. "What if these flying lessons are pointless?"
"Pointless?" He raised an eyebrow.
"Minerva has already told me she won't interview me, so it's pointless to have hope. Yet…" she glanced at the rubber stoppers at the bottom of the walker.
"You're hoping she changes her mind."
"Yes, which is ridiculous given that she wouldn't do that for another candidate. It's selfish for me to want her to reverse her earlier decision so I can continue on in the process. Selecting me would be nothing short of nepotism. I derided the purebloods for getting in their positions via their connections. Why should I expect special treatment?"
"The purebloods were unjustly getting jobs due to their advantages in the Wizarding World. They were not experiencing any discrimination. You on the other hand are being unjustly denied a chance to prove yourself. Your disability should not end all hope of you obtaining this job, and Minerva knows it."
Her voice was quiet. "I just want to explain what I know and show her what I can do. I'm qualified. I only need the chance to prove it."
"One day, you will have that chance," Severus put a hand on his shoulder, wondering if it was cruel to withhold the information that Minerva fully intended to interview her thanks to his manipulations.
"I want to be given a chance because I can offer a perspective others cannot," Hermione put a hand on his. "I want to get a chance because Minerva realizes I can do this. I want this opportunity because I've proven to her that while my disability is a part of me, it is not all of who I am."
"She knows that already."
"It doesn't seem that way."
"If anyone thinks you are nothing more than a cripple they are a dunderhead."
She gave him a small grin. "Only you would say that."
"I am known for my honesty," he smirked as he took his hand off her shoulder.
"Wait," she drawled. "You want me to believe a double spy is known for honesty?"
"Certainly. Who else would tell you that bubblegum was the best jellybean flavor ever invented?"
"The same person who told Neville that his favorite flavor was licorice."
"Perhaps I was less than honest in that moment, but the last thing I wanted was for him to think I had lost my ability to intimidate a colleague who was trying to persuade me to put petunias and pansies in my dungeons."
"I'm trying to imagine you around any kind of flower which is not a potions ingredient."
"Shocking, I know."
"Would they even grow in that little light?"
"He assures me there are spells which help with growth in low light."
"I'll have to ask him about those sometime for my own herbs."
"Indeed you should."
"Back to the honesty issue," she replied. "I suppose you are one of the few professors who gave constructive criticism and helped me improve in my studies. Granted, much of your critiques were laced with thinly veiled insults, which didn't always encourage learning."
"I know I was cruel, perhaps overly so, but I had my role to play," he answered.
"Which brings us back to honesty."
"Fine, I am more honest with you than I am with anyone else."
"I know," she replied "With that in mind, do you think Minerva could ever change her mind on interviewing me? Do you think my recent attempts to show I can power through my disability have convinced her I am qualified for the job?"
"I think she sees you are a determined witch who will find a way to achieve her dreams with or without her aid."
Before Hermione could say another word, the hoot of an owl filled the room.
"I'll get that…" Severus began.
"No, let me," She used her walker to approach the familiar owl. "I can do this."
Severus suppressed the smile threatening to emerge. His chest warmed as her eyes grew and she relaxed. When she looked up at him, her eyes were glistening.
"She's giving me a chance," Hermione began in a soft voice which then became loud. "She's going to interview me!"
"She is?" His lips curled up.
"She is!" Hermione cheered as she threw up the hand holding the letter while balancing herself on the walker with the other. "She's giving me a chance!"
"That is wonderful to hear," he made himself sound as pleasantly surprised as possible.
"I know I said I had confidence in myself, but I wasn't entirely sure I'd done enough. I thought I made a compelling case, but I also thought it was futile, but this," she held it up. "This shows that I did it!"
"Indeed you did," he answered. "It is an accomplishment in which you should take pride."
"I did it on my own!" She exclaimed. "I proved to her that I could do this. I did this!"
His chest constricted. When he'd placed that bet with Minerva, he hadn't expected Hermione to want to prove herself on her own. Granted, Minerva was resolute in not giving her the job, so someone had to intervene. Still, it had never occurred to him that making the bet had violated Hermione's autonomy and the control she desired over her destiny.
"Severus?" Her voice was softer.
"Yes," he forced his pleasant expression to return.
"What's wrong?"
"Nothing," he coughed. "I was just thinking of how unfortunate it was that you are always proving yourself to others."
"I know but right now I did and," she put her hand over her mouth. "My goodness, I am so sorry."
He raised an eyebrow. "Sorry for what?"
"Well, you've been helping me learn to fly, and you helped me reach the Quidditch game. Then, you observed my spells, and inspired me to create new ones. You've helped so much, and I've been acting as if this was my accomplishment alone. I apologize for diminishing your role in all this and giving you no credit."
"It's fine…"
"No, it's not fine. You've gotten so little credit throughout your life, and I'm doing the same thing everyone else has been doing. I'm sorry to overlook what you've done for me. You've done so much for me, a fact I need to acknowledge."
"I've done very little for you."
"Don't downplay what you've done for me. You are the one teaching me how to fly and giving me emotional support when I'm ready to consider myself a lost cause. I've been bragging about how this was all my idea, and I haven't given a single thought to all you've done, and continue to do, for me. For not giving you credit, I deeply apologize."
"Hermione, it is all fine. There is no need to ignore your accomplishments in favor of mine."
"No, I need to thank you somehow," she answered. "You're my biggest supporter, and next to Harry, my best friend. Really, you understand parts of my life he does not, like what it's like to teach and how it feels when a student won't stop disputing a grade."
He chuckled. "You said you never understood me until Mitch Clarkson argued that he should receive and Outstanding for appearing in class, even if he slept through half of them."
"It's obnoxious not having your course taken seriously."
"I agree."
"I'm glad we're friends," she sat on the edge of a desk. "I'm honored you would open up to me and be my friend."
"You are an easy person to know. In many ways," he swallowed. "I think you are the best friend I've ever had, or at least the only one I'd muddy my robes for."
"In my defense I did clean them."
"You didn't need to."
"I know, but I wanted to repay you as best I could."
"You cleaned them better than any house elf ever could, so the debt is repaid in full."
"Enough about dirty robes. Let's celebrate my getting the interview." She slid off the desk. "We can have a bottle of wine, perhaps play some cards, and tell a few stories about irritating students. Tomorrow, we can go to The Leaky Cauldron."
"Sure, though I fear that will be later in the evening."
"How late?"
"However late my date wants our time together to last."
"Oh," she ran her finger over the metal of the bar. "When does the date begin?"
"At noon," he replied.
"That early?"
"Yes, my date wants to meet me at Carlisle, where we will then travel to Hadrian's Wall."
"Is she interested in history?"
"If she is, then there are worse people Minerva could've chosen. At the very least we can converse about Ancient Rome. It has been quite some time since I've done that. I wouldn't mind the conversation, provided she isn't a complete dunderhead."
"Indeed," Hermione frowned.
"Regardless," he replied. "If the date ends before six I will call you."
"Then I will eagerly await your owl."
"If that does not work, then I would be more than happy to reschedule for this weekend."
"I look forward to meeting with you, whenever that is."
"I do too."
"In the meantime," Hermione began to move towards the door. "That wine will not drink itself."
"No, it will not." He followed her to the door was a strange mixture of pride in her accomplishments, happiness in her joy, and absolute dread that she would discover the exact reason Minerva gave her that interview.