The following morning, Hermione awoke with a sense of unease. Glancing at her schedule resting on the nightstand, she discovered a mix of subjects for the day, including Arithmancy, Ancient Runes, and Transfiguration, but thankfully, no Potions. She reluctantly got out of bed, preparing for the day ahead, her apprehension growing at the thought of the upcoming detention with her potions professor. After a thorough shower and dressing for the day, Hermione grabbed her school bag and made her way to the Great Hall. Upon entering the shared common room, she observed Draco's presence.
Clearing her throat, she greeted, "Good morning, Draco. Heading down to breakfast this morning?" Taking note of his neatly dressed appearance and well-combed platinum-blond hair.
Draco turned toward Hermione and responded, "Yes, I was hoping you would walk with me this morning." His unexpected kindness caught her off guard, transforming the boy who had once been her childhood bully into someone willing to be seen with her.
Quickly recovering from the initial surprise, Hermione nodded and replied, "Yes, I think that would be lovely."
Exiting the common room together, they made their way to the Great Hall. During the lengthy walk, their conversation revolved around school-related topics. They discussed their various subjects, expressing joy about reuniting with friends. Hermione was disheartened to learn that Draco had lost many friends after the wizarding war, transforming the once-popular Slytherin into an outcast.
Lost in conversation with Draco, Hermione failed to notice her surroundings as they turned a corner in the hallway. Unexpectedly, she collided with a solid figure. Painfully, she fell and hit her bottom on the concrete floor. Startled, she looked up to find herself face to face with Professor Snape. His dark eyes bore into hers, and an uncomfortable silence settled between them. Struggling to regain her composure, she managed to stand up without any assistance. Though she offered a swift apology, it seemed inadequate.
"You insolent child! Must you wander blindly through the corridors?" he reprimanded her sharply. "Ten points shall be deducted for your impudence. And don't you dare forget about your detention tonight." His words dripped with cruelty, and his gaze held a sharp anger. "Make sure not to keep me waiting." With a disdainful flourish, he stalked away in the opposite direction, leaving Hermione and Draco behind.
Gazing at his departing figure, she fought back tears that threatened to surface. Swiftly blinking them away, she proceeded to the Great Hall. Upon their arrival, she wished Draco well in his studies for the day, and they went their separate ways to their respective tables. Slumping into her seat, she mechanically began to eat. The weight of the encounter lingered, and she couldn't shake the feeling of dread. Uncertain about the cause of her professor's hostility, she resolved to put an end to this peculiar game of his.
Seated in thoughtful silence amid the lively chatter of students, Hermione quietly went about her breakfast, not in the mood for conversation. While sipping her juice, she pondered how to address the unsettling situation she found herself in.
Ginny, diverting her attention from Neville, observed the hint of anger in her friend's eyes. Playfully nudging Hermione with her shoulder, she inquired, "What's putting you in such a mood? It's only day two; you can't possibly be behind on homework already." Her teasing aimed to elicit a smile from Hermione.
Looking up from her plate, Hermione took a moment to collect her thoughts. "Ginny, I'm at a loss," she admitted hopelessly. "For some reason, I've started off on the wrong foot with Professor Snape. He assigned me detention this evening. I haven't done anything wrong, yet he seems determined to make things difficult for me."
Ginny dismissed the issue with a scoff and remarked, "He's just being an ass, Hermione. Don't let it bother you."
Hoping it were as simple as Ginny suggested, Hermione finished her breakfast in silence, feeling a sense of isolation in her predicament. With a resigned sigh, she took one last bite of her food and made her way to class.
Her first class of the day was Ancient Runes. She entered the room quietly and took a seat at one of the many wooden desks. The classroom had sturdy stone walls adorned with ancient symbols and intricate runic patterns, creating an atmosphere that resonated with the subject's historical significance. The room was dimly lit, with ambient lighting provided by flickering candles, casting shadows that dance across the runic-inscribed surfaces.
The focal point of the classroom is the professor's desk, positioned at the front, laden with parchments, quills, and a collection of ancient texts. A large blackboard dominates one section of the room, often covered in chalked runic symbols, charts, and illustrations for instructional purposes. Shelves line the walls, showcasing a variety of rune-related artifacts and tools, ranging from runic stones to ancient scrolls. The aroma of aged parchment permeated the room.
Hermione sat attentively, poised for the commencement of the lesson, and retrieved her Ancient Runes textbook. In the quiet minutes that ensued, she diligently readied herself for the day's instruction. Gradually, the classroom began to populate with students representing various houses. It wasn't long before Luna Lovegood settled into the desk to Hermione's right.
Luna's flowing, silvery-blond hair cascaded loosely around her shoulders, and her quirky radish-shaped earrings emphasized her unique sense of style. She turned to Hermione with a dreamy expression and greeted her, "Hello, Hermione. It's nice to see you again. How is everything going this year?" Before Hermione could respond, the professor entered the classroom, cutting off their conversation.
"Welcome to Advanced Ancient Runes. I am Professor Babbling, and I look forward to working with each of you this year," she announced in a no-nonsense tone. Pointing her wand towards the blackboard, a series of runes materialized. "For today's assignment," she continued, "you will translate them and submit your papers to me before leaving. You have one hour. Good luck." Professor Babbling moved gracefully around the room, observing her students with a watchful eye.
Hermione, equipped with parchment, an ink bottle, and her quill, delved into translating the runes. As she carefully deciphered each symbol, her thoughts involuntarily drifted back to the fateful night when she saved Professor Snape's life.
Harry and Ron tugged her down the stairs, urgently urging her to leave. Tears streamed down her face as she resisted, pleading desperately, "But Harry, he's going to die. I can save him." Her impassioned pleas fell on deaf ears, ignored by the determined boys as they neared the exit. Struggling against their grip, she begged for a few more minutes to heal him. "Please, just a few more minutes. That's all I need."
Ron snapped, "Hermione, are you daft? He's a Death Eater. He doesn't need to be saved. He killed Dumbledore, for Christ's sake. Get it through your thick skull that you are not going back. Now let's go!"
As she was pulled back onto the battlefield, she cast one last sorrowful glance at the Shrieking Shack. "I'm sorry, Professor, that I wasn't able to save you."
Hermione blinked away her tears, focusing her attention on the parchment before her. Realizing she was halfway through the assignment with only fifteen minutes left in class, she swiftly composed herself and efficiently translated the remaining runes from the blackboard. Upon completing the final translation, Professor Babbling declared the end of the class, instructing students to submit their work. Hermione packed up her belongings, rose from her desk, handed her paper to the professor, and exited the room.
The day crawled by for Hermione, and as her final class concluded, she opted to skip dinner and head to the library. Carrying her weighty bag, she made her way to the library and sought out a quiet table in the corner. With textbooks spread out before her, she pondered which essay to tackle that evening. Deciding to avoid Potions, given her impending detention, she delved into her Transfiguration essay instead. As she crafted her essay with eloquence on the parchment, weariness began to weigh down her eyelids. Struggling to stave off sleep, she concentrated harder on her work, but the relentless passage of time overcame her efforts. Eventually, she succumbed, slumping over the table, and filling the serene library with the hushed cadence of her soft snores.
Madam Pince, amidst the task of organizing and shelving books, noticed a Gryffindor student sound asleep at a corner table. Approaching the slumbering student, she gently roused her from her nap. Oblivious to the passing time, Hermione awakened and met the librarian's gaze.
"Ms. Granger, you have been sleeping for hours. You should pack up your books and make your way to the common room," Madam Pince advised.
Hermione absorbed the information with a sudden realization of the time. With a hurried pace, she stowed away her belongings and rushed out the door, heading straight to the potions classroom. As she reached the room, finding the door ajar, she silently cursed, realizing she was running behind. Hoping it was just a minor delay, she entered the room only to discover, upon glancing at the clock, that it was already 7:30. She was thirty minutes late for her detention.
Upon entering the room, the door slammed shut behind her, causing her to startle at the abrupt noise. Her tawny brown eyes met the piercing gaze of her professor, and she stood frozen in place, apprehensive about further displeasing him. She attempted to apologize for her tardiness, but his thundering tone swiftly silenced any words that might have escaped her lips.
"Find your disrespectful attitude amusing, Ms. Granger? I assure you, I am far from pleased with your behavior. Your detention was scheduled to begin 30 minutes ago, yet you chose to keep me waiting. Such defiance will not go without consequences," he declared with evident anger. He gestured sternly toward the same chair she had occupied earlier, instructing her to take a seat.
Nervous as a leaf, she approached the chair, her steps hesitant. After settling into the seat, she began fidgeting with her fingers, avoiding eye contact with him.
His lips curled in disdain at her uneasy demeanor. "Look at me when I am talking to you," he spat.
Reluctantly, she raised her eyes from her hands, meeting his gaze obediently. As she stared into his cold, unyielding eyes, she couldn't help but notice the wrinkles and dark circles on his face. His coal-colored eyes betrayed no warmth. The more she stared at his pallid countenance, the vivid image of his dying form in the shack played in her mind. Desiring to conceal her inner thoughts, she attempted once more to avert her gaze.
A slight yelp escaped Hermione when Professor Snape reached out, gripping her chin firmly. "I will not tell you again," his tone was lethal. As he released her face, she sat there in discomfort, compelled to maintain eye contact with him. The silence stretched, and she didn't dare look away from him again. He ignored the look of displeasure on her face.
Sensing that now was a good time to attempt another apology, she quickly said, "I'm sorry I was late; I fell asleep in the library."
He snorted at her explanation. "There's no excuse for tardiness, Ms. Granger. You knew the time I expected you, and you ignored it completely. Obviously, you don't respect me at all."
Anger surged through her veins. How dare he say that to her? Unaware that he was baiting her for a reaction, she started yelling at him. "You know that's not true! I have respected you for years." Realizing her mistake far too late, she slumped further into her chair, taken aback by the angry expression on her professor's face.
He stood up abruptly from his desk, pacing back and forth in thought. Abruptly, he halted and directed his intense glare at Hermione. With a stern expression, he began to unbutton his sleeves, each motion revealing more of his forearms. As she observed, a sense of fear crept into her stomach, uncertain of the reason behind his actions.
He rolled the sleeves all the way up to his elbows, exposing the white alabaster skin underneath. To her surprise and dread, he bared his arm, revealing the dark mark still etched into his skin.
His anger surged rapidly. "I need you to stop feeling sorry for me. It's evident in your eyes every time you look at me. Do you not remember who I am?"
Hermione swallowed nervously and replied, "Of course, I know who you are. You did everything in your power to protect us and our school. You're a hero, whether you accept it or not."
His demeanor darkened further at her words. "A hero?" He chuckled darkly. "I've committed unspeakable acts—killed, raped, tortured. I don't want your pity, Ms. Granger. I don't seek your sympathy. I'm a grown man who made his own choices." He growled the words, "I don't know why you bothered saving me, Ms. Granger," the last sentence emerging in a shuddering whisper. He sat back down back in his chair, taking deep breaths to calm himself from the outburst.
Hermione's heart ached for the dark man before her. He had sacrificed so much for them, yet he genuinely believed he didn't deserve any of the efforts she had put forth. Despite feeling a bit foolish, she whispered hesitantly, "I don't regret what I did. I won't apologize for it."
"Why? I don't understand," he grumbled, annoyed that his outburst did not yield the desired result. He pinched the bridge of his nose, indicating his readiness for her to leave his presence. "Get out," he ordered. Hermione didn't need to be told twice. She swiftly picked up her school bag and exited the classroom as fast as her legs could carry her.