Thank you for the follows and the reviews, you all inspire me to keep at it.
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Headmistress McGonagall sat behind her desk, her face etched with a mix of shock and distress. "This is absolutely unacceptable. I can't believe someone was able to do such a thing - and inside the castle!"
Hermione didn't reply. Rowland sat in the chair next to her, remaining a quiet source of support. His eyes held concern, but he was good enough not to speak for her, despite how upset she was.
Minerva turned to her, resting her hands flat on the wooden desk. "Professor Granger, I am deeply sorry that you had to go through this. Your safety is our priority. I will contact the Aurors office immediately."
"Thank you, but I sent a message to Harry and Ron, and one to Kingsley. I'm worried about what comes next. I don't feel safe in my rooms."
Minerva looked distressed. "That is understandable. We will heighten security around your quarters, twenty-four seven watch." She paused as an idea came to her. "I will put Peeves on it."
"The ghost?" Rowland asked, surprised.
"Peeves is a poltergeist, technically. Who else has the time to keep post outside Professor Granger's door?"
"Will he agree?" Hermione asked. Peeves had never been particularly fond of her and her friends when she was in school, save for Fred and George. She felt a pang, as she always did, when she thought about Fred.
"Let's find out." Minerva pointed her wand to her throat, "Peeves!"
The poltergeist in question came through the floors a few moments later. He looked annoyed to be there, like a teenager who was about to be punished for breaking the rules. His eyes bulged out and his hair stuck out in wild angles. "I didn't do nuffing this time."
"Peeves, your services are needed." Minerva started. Peeves perked up, realizing that he was not in trouble at all. "There has been a security breach. Professor Granger's rooms have been vandalized. We need your assistance catching the culprit."
Hermione had thought that Peeves would refuse, or demand something, or perhaps throw dung bombs at their heads, but to her astonishment, he didn't. His ghost form seemed to stand straighter as he awaited his orders. He floated closer to the Headmistress's desk.
Minerva's authoritative tone clearly affected Peeves. "You will remain unseen and stand post outside of Hermione's door, if you catch the culprit, AND you bring them to me AND you behave towards Hermione, I will allow you to personally torment the person responsible for a whole hour before we turn them into the Aurors. Do you accept this?"
Peeves' bulging eyes widened further. He stuck his chest out and nodded vehemently. "Peeves will catch the naughty naughties." He swept his hand up into a grand salute and did a double flip on his way through the ceiling and out of sight.
"I've not seen him this excited since Spring of 1998."
No one at the castle liked to refer to the events of Spring 1998 as the "Battle of Hogwarts" as the rest of the wizarding world did. The horrors of that bloody fight had soaked into the walls, the very spirit, of this castle.
"Thank you, Minerva." Hermione smiled at her boss sadly. "There's something I never told you." She took a deep breath. "Last Sunday, I received an anonymous bouquet of black flowers. I didn't think much of it, but Professor Snape informed me that the types of flowers, along with the fact that they were unsigned, might constitute a threat." She explained the meanings of the three flowers according to Severus' book. "I wasn't sure if they were malicious, but I think this confirms it."
Minerva looked scandalized. "Professor Granger! I expect you to tell me these things immediately!"
"I will in the future." Hermione nodded. "But what about the students? How do we explain this to them?"
"We do not yet have reason to believe that the students know about the incident." Rowland offered. "They can't enter the staff corridors, right?"
Hermione and Minerva both huffed out a laugh at the same time and looked at one another, amused.
"What is it?" Rowland looked between them.
"The portraits are all gossips, and nothing exciting has happened in years. Trust me, some student, somewhere, will overhear them whispering about it. They can't help it." Minerva replied.
"Fair enough." Rowland considered. "Perhaps we should address the students collectively."
Minerva nodded, "They must understand that hate speech of any kind is not tolerated here." She turned back to Hermione, "Don't fret, I will not announce the recipient of the message, only that it occurred."
Hermione let out a long sigh. She hated the idea of the children being scared, especially the muggleborn students. "I just want to forget about this and get back to teaching."
Minerva stated firmly, "We will do everything in our power to make that happen. In the meantime, we must investigate the source of the graffiti. Tracing spells, magical memory charms, et cetera. We will not let this person get away with it."
Hermione thanked her and stood, Rowland quickly copying her. As she reached the door, she turned back to Minerva, who had a stern and calculating look on her face. "Minerva, do you think it was a student?"
"It very well could be." Minerva stood, "Keep your wits about you, Granger."
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Hermione's classes went fine that morning. She stayed focused on potions theory during her fourth-year lecture, and it ended up being a good lesson. No one asked her about the vandalism, and after a few hours, she almost forgot how her day had started.
As soon as the lesson was over and she stood alone in the potions classroom, a familiar white noise buzzed through her head.
Hermione skipped lunch. She knew she should sit at the staff table, unbothered, so that if the person who had defaced her door was there, they would know they hadn't gotten to her. But she was exhausted, so she ended up taking a nap in her office.
The staff meeting that afternoon was the last thing she needed to do for the day. A good thing too, as she ached to get back to her room and take her shoes off.
Nearly every seat in the staff room was occupied, and there was much more chatter than usual. As she stepped through the doorway and began to look around for an empty chair, the room went silent. Hermione looked up; a dozen or so faces turned to stare at her.
Bollocks. The last thing she needs is a group of civilians feeling sorry for her. She's been through much worse.
She froze - it was the voice. She looked around, but since everyone was looking at her, she couldn't tell if it was coming from anyone in the room, or if she was hearing things. Perhaps she should go to the hospital wing and speak to Madam Pomfrey about these voices.
She took a seat next to Flitwick, who gave her a kind smile and leaned towards her. "I have taken care of your door, Professor. You don't need to worry about any more vandalism either, I put a slippery surface charm on the walls so that paint can't stick in the future."
"How on earth did you get rid of it?" She asked in a low voice. "I tried every charm I could think of."
"Oh yes, it took an advanced one to get rid of it. Here," he reached into his bag and pulled out a small book, "take a look at this. I think you'll appreciate the author's perspective on charms theory."
"Thank you, Filius." Her eyes pricked with gratitude, so took the opportunity to look away and put the book in her bag. She felt hot under the weight of her colleagues pitiful stares. They didn't mean any harm, she knew, but it didn't feel great to be the subject of their concern.
Minerva walked in and cleared her throat. "Good afternoon, Professors. As you all may know, there was an incident of vandalism this morning in the staff corridor. Professor Granger has received a hateful slur. As of right now, there is no evidence of who left the message, but we are launching an investigation with the Ministry's aurors. If you hear of any threats or witness any altercations, you will bring this information to me immediately.
"In other news, the first monthly Hogsmeade weekend is next week. With recent events in mind, staff will double up and remain in pairs the entire trip. Instead of two chaperones, we will have two teams of two chaperones each. This does mean that you all need to supervise Hogsmeade weekends to accommodate this.
"We will also double up corridor patrols, you will be in teams of two for safety purposes. This month's corridor patrol schedule is also in the back of the room."
As everyone stood, Hermione walked to the back and saw, to her delight, that it was her turn to be a Hogsmeade chaperone. She had assumed she wouldn't be allowed to take on such responsibility yet, but she was very excited to go. She looked at the corridor schedule, she was paired with every teacher at least once, which she supposed was a good thing. It would be nice to get to know all her colleagues individually.
As she looked over the patrol schedule, her heart sank; she wasn't paired with Severus tonight, she was paired with Rowland. She wasn't disappointed to spend time with Lucas, he was perfectly respectful, but she hadn't been able to speak to Severus at all today, and she itched for an opportunity to spend the evening with him. She told herself it was fine; she would have patrol with him next week.
She stiffened as she realized that the stone-faced wizard in question was standing next to her, not moving. His clean scent surrounded her as she trailed her eyes from his wool-clad chest up to his face. His eyes were on her, they looked troubled. He opened his mouth to speak when Rowland appeared to Hermione's left.
"It looks like we are on Hogsmeade duty together next weekend," Rowland said cheerfully. "I can't wait to explore the village. Are there any good places to eat in Hogsmeade?"
Hermione nodded politely. "There's a stew in the Hog's head that is much better than you'd expect." She suggested, eager to return her attention back to Severus. As soon as Rowland left, she turned back to where Severus had stood. He was gone.
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Severus climbed the stairs of the Astronomy tower just after midnight. He had lay awake for hours, trying not to think about how much time Professor Granger was spending with Lucas Rowland, the professor who had the nerve to look like a model. He'd tossed a turned and stared at the ceiling until he couldn't stand it.
He'd gotten up and distracted himself with excessive exercise. After nearly an hour of calisthenics, pull ups, and push ups, he showered and tried again to rest. No sleep came. After an hour, Severus had gotten up drank a large glass of whiskey. Every time he closed his eyes, he saw Rowland's lecherous hands roaming Professor Granger's body, her beautiful brown eyes staring up at him with adoration. It made Severus sick.
At the top of the stairs, he smelled a skunky odor wafting towards him. He sniffed the air, his interest peaked. It was an unmistakable smell, he hid a smirk as he stepped out onto the landing.
Hermione's brown hair whipped around as she faced him. "Must you haunt all of my haunts, Professor?" She was smiling, the weed clearly having its intended effect.
"Is that pot?" He asked.
"You want some?" She offered him the blunt.
He waved his hand casually, "I don't care for it, thank you."
"But you've tried it?"
"Of course. As you know, marijuana is a very versatile potion ingredient."
"I'll be sure to stock up." She said, snickering.
"There should already be some in your potions cupboard in a magically sealed jar labeled Murtlap Venom." He had no more use for such things, he preferred to drink his troubles away or punish his body with exercise until he collapsed.
She smiled at him.
He shook his head. "You're smoking it now, aren't you?"
"Imagine my surprise when I was doing inventory," she laughed, taking a drag. He watched as the smoke plumed outward into the crisp night air. "How was your day?"
"Insufferable," Snape replied, feeling hollow.
"And yet you suffered it," she said cheerfully.
"I am not obtuse enough to ask how your day was."
She nodded ruefully.
"Would you…" He thought it words over, feeling uncomfortable, "...like to talk about it?"
Hermione burst out laughing. Maybe it was the pot, or the exhaustion, the stress, maybe all three, but Severus Snape, dungeon bat, and world-class grump, asking her if she wanted to talk was just too much. Severus looked annoyed.
Hermione stifled her giggles, "I'm sorry," she said, and she meant it. "I am just always so caught off guard when you're nice to me." She hesitated. "Why are you so nice to me? Why just me?"
He didn't answer right away, when he did, his voice came out low as he leaned over the railing, staring out at the moonlit hills. "Because you knew what was coming and you prepared for it. You're a survivor."
She rolled her eyes, letting out a huff of derision.
"No," he shook his head, "that's not nothing. You were incredible...especially considering your young age."
"You were pretty decent yourself, for a prison guard," she said with a morbid laugh. "I only survived because of you."
"So I didn't let you starve, someone give me a bloody medal."
"It's not just that," Hermione said seriously, taking her hands off the railing and turning to meet his eye. He stayed where he was. "You healed me, helped me. It made all the difference to my survival."
"Don't you dare thank me." He said, with an edge to his voice.
"I wasn't going to". It was a lie. She ached to thank him for stopping Yaxley, but she couldn't bring herself to broach the Subject.
He let out a breath, thankful that at least she did not treat him like everyone else did; most were either too afraid to speak to him or they pointed and stared at him like a zoo animal. Hermione did neither. "Maybe I was just playing a role, getting you to trust me." He teased in his deadpan way.
Her eyes twinkled, catching his humor. "Maybe I was going to use you too. Maybe I planned to get into your good graces and double-cross you for information."
"You wish."
"You think I couldn't?" She stepped closer to him, and he nearly stepped back, his body reacting strongly to her subtle perfume, the smell of her shampoo. "It would make sense, cozying up to the one Death Eater that wasn't a true threat to me." Her eyes roamed his face. Was she staring at his lips?
He paused, unsure. "How did you know?"
"Know what?" Her eyes were definitely on his lips, he was sure of it.
He licked his own nervously. "That I'm not a…" he shook his head, clearing the awful thoughts away. "That I wasn't going to..."
"Force yourself on me?"
He winced at her words.
"It was just instinct," her amber eyes connected with his again, "...until you said 'them'."
"Them?" He repeated, barely registering her words as her soft brown eyes shimmered under the gas lamps.
"In the cellar, when you first saw me there, you said, 'Don't provoke them'. If you were one of them, you wouldn't have said 'them'."
"A chink in my armor, it would seem." He averted his eyes from her impossibly elegant face. Not the only one.
Hermione's eyes darted up, and she scanned his expression frantically, looking for confirmation. His face gave away nothing, but this time she was sure. That voice, that constant voice that had helped her through the war, the one that had kept her alive, was coming from Severus Snape.
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I need to take a short break, will post again on 1/21
Thanks,
E