August, 2001
Professor Snape's cloak billowed behind him as he strode into the library. His steps were soundless, having cast Muffliato on himself before leaving his chambers. The castle was as quiet as could be expected at half past 3 in the morning in the summertime, which made it perfect.
Professor Severus Snape was rarely seen in the flesh throughout Hogwarts. Since his near-death experience in the Boat Shack, he knew he should feel relief, perhaps a newfound source of inspiration.
He knew, rationally, that his life was different now. His future was more hopeful than ever before. Voldemort was gone! His greatest opponent, oppressor, and tormentor was truly in the grave - he should be elated.
But Severus was not elated. In fact, Severus felt nothing. Three days after the final battle, Severus Snape didn't say a word when he woke up in the hospital wing.
He didn't even speak to Poppy, who peppered him with questions about how he was feeling and his pain level. Snape just rolled onto his side, facing away from her, closing his eyes.
He'd snuck back out without Poppy noticing and went to his old quarters in the dungeons. He could have gone to his headmaster's quarters, but that is probably where Minerva would go looking for him. Besides, he missed his old rooms.
When he'd gotten to the familiar door, it swung open without him even saying the password. Severus smiled to himself; he truly loved Hogwarts. For all his complaining when Dumbledore first enslaved him to the school, he didn't hate being there - but that didn't mean Dumbledore had ever needed to know.
He'd stepped into the empty stone chambers, the cool air felt familiar on his skin, a welcome embrace. With a swish of his wand, he summoned all of his belongings from the Headmaster's quarters and waved them back into their old places. Then he'd shot a flame into the fireplace, collapsed into his bed, and stared at the wall. He didn't answer the door for nearly a week, only flooing to the library to grab a book or the kitchen to grab a meal without waking the elves. They were still terrified of him.
Severus climbed the spiral steps up to the second floor of the library without breaking a sweat. When he was still a spy, he'd kept a strict regimen of exercise in his quarters to keep his body strong. The damage that the Dark Lord inflicted on his person was so relentless at times that he was sure his back would break under the pressure of his curses. When the war ended, well, he didn't have anything better to do.
As Severus walked into the restricted section, he passed the first row of books, scanning the titles for his target. The moonlight streamed into the library and assisted him in his quest. As he passed by the familiar globe that marked the end of the aisle, a small yellow light caught his eye, a candle.
No one should be in here; the term didn't start for another week.
Snape strode silently toward the light, as he approached its source, he flicked his wand toward the nearest bookcase, and it became transparent only to him. Through it, a form could be seen hunched over a stack of parchment, furiously scribbling. The person's face was covered by a mess of large brown curls. Snape rolled his eyes and stepped out from behind the bookcase.
"Miss Granger, this section is off-limits, not to mention that it is also the middle of the night. Explain yourself," he said tiredly.
Hermione jerked her head up from her scattered parchments. His cool tone floated into the room and surrounded her. She almost didn't recognize the voice of her former professor; there was no venom in it.
It was the first time she had seen him since Malfoy Manor. He was striking as ever, the candlelight casting shadows on his strong jaw and cheekbones. She was thankful for said candle, whose flickering light obscured her blush. Her mind immediately went to the memory of what she'd asked him those years ago. He did not indicate embarrassment as he cast a dark shadow on the bookcase behind him.
"It's alright, professor. I have a note." She casually motioned two fingers up and a small slip of paper floated up from the desk. As his eyes followed it, the paper folded itself into an origami bird, which promptly flitted over to Professor Snape. As he caught it, the little bird unfolded itself and flattened out in his hand. Snape almost smiled, but the realization made him scowl.
Snape's eyes scanned the note; it was from Headmistress McGonagall. Hermione Granger, it appeared, had been granted unrestricted permission to roam the school and grounds.
Hermione's focus was back on her books. Her left hand traced her finger on the lines, and her right hand took notes onto a large parchment roll, most of which was already full. he rolled his eyes to see that she was using muggle pen.
In the candlelight, he could see that her curls were longer, fuller, more defined. Her brown locks fell over her shoulders and onto the volumes she was studying. The round, eager face that had annoyed him for six years had slimmed, her baby fat having disappeared, her eyes lightly rimmed with eyeliner. She didn't look so deathly thin as the last time he saw her in person. She had gained at least 10 or 20 pounds of what looked like muscle.
Snape studied the paper in his hand. "An interesting charm. Did you create it yourself?"
She looked up. About as close to a compliment as she had ever received from him. She nodded.
He held up the note, "I take it this infers that curfews do not apply to you."
"Correct, Professor. I am an adult and no longer a student."
"Then may I ask why you are here?"
Hermione paused, nervously. She'd been wondering if this would come up, clearly no one had told him. "I have been invited back to take over the open teaching position."
"What open position?"
She didn't look up but smiled slyly to herself. "Potions, of course."
Snape said nothing for a moment. "Just because -"
"You might as well accept that I am not going to follow any of these arbitrary rules set for the safety of underage students. I am not underage; I am not a student. If I can handle the war, I can certainly handle a dark library." Her tone was firm and neutral, but she was not smiling. "I will not be intimidated by your sour demeanor. I have every right to be here."
Snape studied her for a moment, his face giving nothing away. She looked different, but he couldn't place it.
"Quite right." He tossed the note back onto the desk and turned, disappearing into the night.
Hermione looked into the space where her professor had just stood.
Interesting.
.
.
.
Professor Granger
Professor Hermione Granger
Professor Hermione Granger, Potions Mistress
Hermione was awake before the bell on her clock rang. She had been staring at the ceiling in her new teacher's quarters and couldn't believe this was her life. She was a Hogwarts Teacher!
Full access to the castle, the grounds - the restricted section. The knowledge she had access to! She kicked her feet in giddy anticipation of her first staff meeting. The first school day was tomorrow. She was about to walk into the staff room and sit down like she belonged there.
Because she belonged there.
After one last long stretch, she got out of bed and padded over to the shower. After a good scrub with her favorite eucalyptus exfoliator, and some fresh conditioner in her hair, she stepped out and cast an instant drying charm on her long locks.
With her impossibly thick hair conditioned and combed out, the drying charm caused her curls to form perfect ringlets, and then she cast an Impervious Charm on her hair. Merlin knows why it took her nearly 20 years to figure out that it could be used for more than just eyeglasses.
She put on a black, knee-length pencil shirt that wasn't too tight and not too frumpy, a white button-up shirt, and an emerald green sweater vest, which brought out her brown eyes. It had taken her a while to find the balance between fashionable and professional, but she was pretty sure she nailed it. She wondered whether she should bother with her robes but thought better of it.
She topped them up with a pair of white muggle sneakers. It was unusual for anyone at Hogwarts to wear muggle clothes. She would stand out, which wasn't her intention.
Fuck it, I'm Hermione Fucking Granger, she thought to herself, and slipped them on.
She went to summon her morning bagel when she noticed that a tray had appeared on her table when she exited the bathroom. On a shiny silver tray was a perfectly toasted everything bagel, cream cheese, and a fried egg on top.
How on earth? She raised her wand to summon a coffee and before the words could leave her lips, a steaming cup of black coffee appeared next to the plate. She took a slow sip. It was rich and dark, her favorite.
"I missed you too, Hogwarts."
.
.
.
The staff room was full when she walked in, carrying her refilled coffee cup and her weightless charmed briefcase, which held all of her books and materials for the day. She may have overpacked, but at least no one would know quite how eager she was. She wanted to be the best teacher.
The staff room was filled with polite chatter as she slipped in quietly. She was a few minutes early, just as she'd planned, and grabbed a seat in the back. As she took out her notebook and her muggle pen, Madam Hooch plopped down next to her, eating a pastry that Flitwick had brought.
"Professor Granger, very nice to have you." She nodded toward my note-taking materials. "You won't need them though. Minerva sends everyone an owl with her notes afterward."
"Oh, thanks. And you can call me Hermione," She offered with a smile, tucking her notebook away.
Madam Hooch shook her hand. "Rolanda. Are you excited for your first term teaching?"
"Very much, although I must admit I am incredibly nervous. I have been going over my lesson plans and -"
"Don't worry so much, you'll do fine. Potions come naturally to you, I hear." She said, nibbling on her breakfast. "At least you won't scare the first years." Her tawny eyes twinkled in amusement.
Hermione chuckled lowly. A jibe at Professor Snape, but a fair one.
Professor McGonagall swept in at exactly 8 am and strode to the front of the staff room. As the professors continued chatting, she cleared her throat, not impolitely.
Minerva waited for a moment as the room settled down. "Welcome, everyone, to a new year at Hogwarts. I am pleased to announce that the castle repairs are finally complete. Construction in the 2nd floor east corridor wrapped up last week and there is no longer hallucinogenic gas spewing out into the empty classrooms."
Hermione balked, Say what now?
No one else seemed to be reacting to this as she looked around to Hooch and Flitwick for confirmation. They didn't notice. In the chair on her right, she realized with a jolt, sat Professor Snape, looking forward and making no sign that he knew she was there. Had he snuck in without her even noticing? It had been the only open seat.
He smelled like fresh herbs, pleasant and clean, no doubt from brewing. You can take the Professor out of Potions, but you can't take the Potions out of the Professor.
McGonagall continued, "A few new house rules to pass on to your students: Number one, the Forbidden Forest, the Staff Tower, and the 6th-floor east wing are off limits to all students. I have left a sign-up sheet in the back of the room with a list of clubs and teams that need staff advisors. Please sign up for something, or I will assign you one. New professors are excused from this.
There is also a schedule of after-curfew corridor patrols, you will be paired up and follow the areas assigned."
Rolanda elbowed Hermione, "I hope I don't get stuck with Arithmancy club."
"I love Arithmancy," Hermione whispered back.
Rolanda snorted, "Of course you do."
Minerva continued, "I am saddened to announce the retirement of our gamekeeper and Care of Magical Creatures Professor Rubeus Hagrid. He has decided to remain in France and enjoy his new family with Maxine. In his place, we welcome Professor Lucas Rowland, who joins us after an illustrious career as a Ministry Magizooligist."
The room offered polite clapping as a tall man in his thirties or forties waved and smiled at the room. He had olive skin and green eyes, his dark brown hair tied into a low ponytail, shorter curls falling out and framing his face. Hermione kept her face neutral but acknowledged to herself that he was incredibly handsome. Like a doctor on a muggle medical drama.
''Also joining us this year is Professor Hermione Granger, who will be taking over the vacant Potions position since Professor Slughorn's recent retirement. She comes to us from-'' McGonagall paused, smiling, "Well, you all know where she's come from. Welcome, Hermione."
Hermione smiled and acknowledged the room as they clapped politely for her, too.
As the meeting ended, she picked up her bag and walked over to the sign-up sheet. How had she not realized how many clubs were available at Hogwarts? Probably because she had spent her time helping the boys pass their classes and studying in the library.
It was probably a good thing Minerva (she still couldn't believe she was allowed to call McGonagall by her first name) had stopped her from over-extending herself.
As the meeting ended, no one got up right away. She took in the room of her new colleagues and admired how they caught up and asked each other about families, pets, and projects. It was a nice little community, she looked forward to having a support system, instead of being the support system. Sometimes, when she wasn't expecting it, she felt resentment that she hadn't spent much time enjoying Hogwarts when she was a student.
Flitwick charmed the pink pastry box to harass anyone who hadn't eaten breakfast. Hermione laughed as it rammed into the back of Snape's head, spraying crumbs on his pristine black frock. He whipped his head to her, brushing the crumbs off of himself. She stifled her laughter. "Sorry, Sir-."
"You don't need to call me 'Sir' anymore, Miss Granger." He cut her off, visibly uncomfortable. For a moment, she thought he was going to say something else, but he merely quirked his eyebrow.
She summoned the first thing she could think of. "Are you...signing up to advise any clubs?"
Snape snorted, standing up. "What do you think?"
"But Minerva said -" Hermione started.
"Don't worry," Snape said, his voice dry and cutting. "I have a note."
And he glided out of the room with a swish of his jet-black robes.