The evening before the students' return to Hogwarts, Hermione felt a growing sense of unease. Over the preceding weeks, she had diligently immersed herself in her studies, working closely with her professor to brew potions and commit all his meticulously crafted lesson plans to memory. Despite her thorough preparation, the one aspect causing her apprehension was the prospect of managing the classroom. Recognizing the significance of being perceived as an authoritative figure by the students, she found herself deep in contemplation, absent-mindedly chewing on the end of her quill.
The quiet was disrupted by Professor Snape's characteristic low drawl, signaling his entrance into the room. Startled, Hermione removed the quill from her mouth, emitting a sigh as she greeted him, "Good evening, Professor." She lowered her gaze back to her notes, determined to rediscover her confidence. Her goal was clear—to demonstrate her capabilities to both him and anyone harboring doubts about her. She intended to show that she was destined to excel as a potions mistress.
Lost in her thoughts, she was suddenly jolted by her professor snatching her notes away. Only when their eyes met did she realize that he had been trying to capture her attention for the past two minutes. "Sorry," she muttered, a wave of embarrassment washing over her.
"Is there any other matter we should address?" inquired Professor Snape.
She nervously bit her lip, reluctant to reveal her doubts. However, recognizing that this persistent feeling wouldn't subside without addressing it, she sighed reluctantly and asked, "How do you handle classroom management?"
Reclining into the back of the couch where he was seated, he remarked, "By now, Ms. Granger, you should be familiar with my teaching approach. You must develop your own style, but heed this warning: I have discovered it is far more effective to maintain a strict and demanding demeanor than to adopt a lackadaisical attitude."
Hermione attentively absorbed his words. While she comprehended the rationale behind being stringent in potion-making, she staunchly refused to emulate his practice of belittling students. She aimed to maintain a strict and demanding approach, but with a crucial difference—she wanted her students to feel comfortable seeking help from her. Her desire was for them to appreciate her, in stark contrast to her professor, who seemed indifferent to students' opinions.
Professor Snape, however, rolled his eyes and commented, "You place too much importance on others' opinions. Not everyone will be fond of you. You should be indifferent to that fact."
His remark left a lingering discomfort with her. Throughout her entire academic journey, she had placed great importance on his opinion. She longed for his approval and acknowledgment, yet it remained elusive. Rather than expressing her thoughts, she chose to retire to bed early, preparing for the day ahead.
As the Welcoming Feast approached, Hermione's anxiety intensified while she sat at the Head Table. The entire day was dedicated to reviewing her notes and envisioning how her inaugural lesson would unfold. She rehearsed her words and contemplated her approach to each student. Professor Snape's previous night's counsel only added to her unease, as she grappled with her ingrained tendency to seek approval from everyone she encountered—a habit she had struggled with since her primary school days. Gazing across the expansive room as students began to fill it, she recognized familiar faces and briefly locked eyes with Ginny Weasley, seated at the last table on the right.
Her attention then shifted to the Slytherin table, where she found it challenging to avert her gaze. Despite her commitment to impartiality, a small part of her acknowledged the potential resistance from Slytherin students toward a Muggle-born instructor. She was aware they might anticipate excellence from her, and she felt compelled to demonstrate that she was a formidable authority not to be underestimated by anyone.
At last, she redirected her gaze from the Slytherin table and faced Professor Snape, who had been silently brooding for the past five minutes. Since their arrival at the Head Table, he had uttered scarcely a word, leaving her uncertain about whether he would maintain his silence towards her in public. Summoning her courage, she timidly inquired, "Sir, should we avoid conversing with each other?"
His eyes remained fixed on the double doors, anticipating the arrival of the first years. "I don't engage in small talk. There's nothing to say. I suggest you direct your conversation to the oaf sitting to your right."
Her gaze fell to the table, and she hesitated to address him further. Instead, she shifted her attention to Hagrid. "Are you looking forward to the new school year?"
Hagrid beamed at Hermione, glad to have her present. "Yes, 'Ermione. Got me old job back."
Despite her delight at seeing Hagrid, anxiety gnawed at Hermione's stomach. She was determined not to embarrass herself, fully aware that Professor Snape wouldn't be lenient. If she faltered in effectively instructing the students, her apprenticeship might be at risk.
Before she could resume her conversation, the double doors swung open, revealing Professor McGonagall and the incoming first-year students. Hermione observed intently as Professor McGonagall called each student by name and sorted them into their respective houses. She noted a higher number of first years than usual this year, speculating that with the war concluded, Hogwarts had regained its sense of safety, encouraging families to send their children to school. Regrettably, this also meant an increased number of Slytherin students she would need to accommodate.
Professor McGonagall settled into her assigned place at the Head Table, signaling the commencement of Professor Dumbledore's welcoming speech. Standing at the podium before the entire student body, Professor Dumbledore commanded the attention of the crowd. The students hushed instantly as the headmaster initiated his address.
"Ladies and gentlemen, esteemed faculty, and most importantly, our resilient and courageous students,
Welcome to another school year at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. As we gather here today, it is with profound joy and gratitude that I address you in the aftermath of a period that tested our spirits and challenged the very essence of our magical world.
The recent war cast a shadow over our beloved Hogwarts, and I extend my deepest sympathies to those who bore the weight of its hardships. However, as we stand on the precipice of a new beginning, let us reflect on the strength we discovered within ourselves and the unity that emerged in the face of adversity.
The resilience of our students, the unwavering dedication of our faculty, and the boundless support of the wizarding community have seen us through the darkest times. Hogwarts stands as a testament to the enduring spirit of magic, a beacon that continues to shine even after the storm has passed.
Now, as we embark on a fresh academic year, let us cherish the opportunity for renewal and growth. The wounds of the past may still be healing, but within these hallowed walls, we find solace and the promise of a brighter future. Hogwarts has always been a sanctuary of learning, friendship, and discovery, and it shall remain so, welcoming each and every one of you with open arms.
Our journey forward is not just a return to normalcy but a commitment to rebuilding, learning, and fostering the values that define us. Let this be a year of understanding, compassion, and unity. Let us celebrate our differences, learn from our shared experiences, and cultivate a sense of harmony that transcends houses, backgrounds, and histories.
To our new students, I extend a heartfelt welcome. Your journey at Hogwarts is a unique chapter in your magical education, and we are honored to guide you through its enchanting pages. To our returning students, your resilience and perseverance inspire us all.
Happiness can be found even in the darkest of times if one only remembers to turn on the light. Let the light of knowledge, friendship, and understanding guide us through the coming year.
May this school year be one of joy, discovery, and magic for each and every one of you. Welcome, dear Hogwarts family, to a year filled with promise and the enduring magic of learning."
As the students erupted in applause and cheers, Professor Dumbledore shifted his focus to the Head Table. Hermione briefly caught his gaze, and an uneasy sensation settled in her stomach. His eyes held an unusual twinkle, intensifying her nervousness. Redirecting his attention to the students, he announced, "I am pleased to introduce a new addition to our esteemed faculty. A valiant warrior during the recent war, without whom our survival may have been in jeopardy. Please join me in extending a warm welcome to Hermione Granger. She will be apprenticing under Professor Snape."
Hermione rose hesitantly, her cheeks burning with embarrassment. The crowd burst into applause, serving as a stark reminder that many viewed her as a hero. The term didn't sit well with her; she loathed it. Hastily, she resumed her seat, deliberately avoiding eye contact with anyone. Mortification engulfed her, and she wished to retreat from the attention, unwilling to draw focus to herself.
As Professor Dumbledore concluded his speech, the feast materialized on the table. Despite the spread before her, Hermione lacked much of an appetite. Opting for a cup of tea, she prepared it to soothe her nerves. Taking a sip, she savored the comforting warmth that spread through her belly. Feeling slightly improved, she decided on a light meal. She enjoyed a few pieces of fruit and indulged in nibbling on a berry tart.
The opening feast concluded, and Hermione promptly exited the Great Hall. Returning to her quarters, she relished the solitude, grateful to be away from the crowd. She sought solace in her notes, poring over them once again. Though she had revisited them multiple times, the repetition brought a sense of assurance about the tasks awaiting her in the upcoming class. While immersed in her notes, thoughts of Professor Snape infiltrated her mind. Despite his agreement to mentor her, he maintained a distance and refrained from acknowledging her efforts. She endeavored not to let it disturb her, but, true to her nature, she struggled to dismiss his stern demeanor and the ominous glances he cast her way during their interactions.
She wasn't naive or foolish; she understood the challenges ahead. Despite anticipating the difficulty, there was a part of her that wished he would be more open to conversation. Over the past month, she delved into numerous books, corresponded with Harry and Ron through letters, and immersed herself in the intricacies of potion-making. However, what she truly yearned for was companionship. The dungeons proved to be quite lonely, and, true to her promise, reaching out to Ginny was not an option. While she engaged in occasional conversations with Professor McGonagall, Professor Snape kept her occupied and on a tight leash, leaving little room for personal connections. Unable to concentrate on the words before her, she placed her notes back on the table and rested her head in her hands.
Professor Snape entered the shared living room and walked toward the armchair where Hermione was seated. "Are you prepared for tomorrow? You have first years in the morning."
Hermione lifted her head from her hands and responded with feigned confidence, "Certainly, Professor." She hoped he wouldn't see through her facade, momentarily forgetting that she was conversing with a master Legilimens capable of reading minds.
His lips twisted in distaste as he settled into the armchair beside hers. "Ms. Granger, have you forgotten who you are speaking to? I can see right through you."
Another aspect of Professor Snape that irked her surfaced. He consistently avoided calling her Hermione. A small part of her secretly yearned for it, even though she understood he wasn't seeking friendship. Yet, every time he addressed her as Ms. Granger, it brought back echoes of her eleven-year-old self. She rolled her eyes in a hint of defiance and retorted, "Fine, maybe I am a little nervous."
"A little? You were shaking at dinner tonight. Look, if you're not ready..." Professor Snape began.
Hermione abruptly stood up from the armchair, anger evident. "I am ready, Professor! I spent weeks preparing for this. I know what I am doing." She recoiled slightly, realizing she had just interrupted, and raised her voice at him as if he were one of her friends.
"Good, now channel that anger and passion into your teaching. I didn't invest weeks in you just for you to sit here and wallow in self-pity," he responded sternly.
Hermione mumbled in defense, "I wasn't wallowing," returning to her armchair with a touch of embarrassment about her outburst. It unsettled her how swiftly he could provoke her with his attitude.
"It's my job to keep you on your toes. You signed up for this. Now is your chance to prove yourself worthy," he admonished.
Gritting her teeth in frustration, she decided to refrain from responding. He wouldn't provoke a reaction from her tonight. Even though she chose silence, the admission of deliberately making things difficult irked her. She couldn't fathom why he sought to make her miserable. She excelled in her studies, earned top marks in every subject, brewed impeccable potions, and even saved his fucking life when no one else wanted to. Yet, not a trace of gratitude from him. Fed up and no longer wanting to be in his presence, she retreated to her bedroom.