Disclaimer: J.K. Rowling owns Harry Potter. The First Name Ceremony is a tradition where I went to college and I have no idea if they do it anywhere else.

First Name Basis

“We have a tradition here at Hogwarts,� Dumbledore had told the seventh years that morning. “After the Leaving Feast, those students leaving us for the last time line up and shake the hands of your professors, calling them by their first name. It’s symbolic of your transition from student to equal, from child to adult. I hope that you will find the experience special.�

Hermione had balked at the announcement. She didn’t like being reminded that she would have to soon leave the one place where she felt comfortable and safe. Hogwarts was a sanctuary, not only because of the war that raged between good and evil outside its walls, but because she found purpose and belonging here.

Most of her classmates were excited to shrug off the confines of school, but there was no library full of books to be read, there were no essays to write and rewrite until the perfect turn of phrase was found, there were no Professors willing to discuss the latest points of theory with her outside in the real world.

Calling her professors by their first names only forced her to accept that she would no longer be a student. She didn’t even know if she could do anything else. Were there jobs writing essays on obscure points of Arithmancy? She didn’t think so, but if there were, they probably didn’t pay well.

Professor McGonagall, or was it Minerva now, had told her in her career counseling sessions that she “could do anything.� Hermione had found that to be the most useless piece of drivel yet. She knew it was meant to be both complimentary and encouraging, but ‘anything’ could mean ‘everything’ and how was she to choose? She didn’t even know most of what was available to her.

Besides it would be awkward to suddenly switch from ‘Professor’ and ‘Sir’ to their given names. It implied a certain amount of intimacy that would be forced upon them. She wondered briefly if the teachers felt the same way. Was this another hare-brained idea of the headmaster’s?

But then again most of her professors already called her Hermione, so it wouldn’t be such a switch for them. The only one who had refrained had been Professor Snape. Miss Granger—he had called her nothing else in her seven years at school, unless you counted the times he had insulted her by saying she was a know-it-all.

And now, in less than two weeks she would have to call him Severus. She didn’t like the prospect. She had, of course, heard others call him that at 12 Grimmauld Place, but to her, she thought, he would always be Professor Snape. His imposing figure and permanent scowl demanded respect. How often had she reminded Harry to call him Professor and now they were being told, no encouraged, to forget all that and address him by his first name.

She knew she was obsessing over this, but it was what she did. She tired of stressing over NEWTs, she had spent the two years since OWLs doing that. This, at least, provided fodder for her other than tests and Voldemort.

And what if….? No, surely not. She had a tendency to talk when she shouldn’t or more than was needed, but even she had the good sense not to…. Damn Lavender and Parvati and their stupid games.

In the last year they had started playing this stupid game where names of boys were chosen and then after some sort of complex and magical formula, (one Hermione had yet to figure out despite her interest in Arithmancy,) you were told who would marry, where you would live, and how many kids you would have. It undoubtedly came from that insect Trelawney, but they had forced her into it in a moment of weakness.

“Okay, now pick six guys,� they had told her.

“Six!�

“Well, Ron and Harry, naturally. So four more,� Parvati said.

“Why don’t you choose for me.� This of course had been her fatal mistake.

“Ooh, okay, well write down Neville,� Lavender told Parvati.

“And Dean,� Parvati added, her quill scratching furiously while Hermione watched bored and wishing that Madame Pince hadn’t fallen ill.

“Ok, but we need some people outside of Gryffindor…how about Malfoy?�

Hermione frowned deeply but it only seemed to encourage Parvati more as she wrote down Draco’s name with relish. She suddenly realized why most of her close friends were male.

“Oh! And we need a professor!� Lavender said, getting more and more excited.

“Why?� Hermione asked bewildered.

“I would think it’s obvious. A brainy girl like you needs someone who can match her intellect, now let’s see...�

“That’s hardly fair,� she protested. “Most of the male professors are ancient, and Binns is even dead!�

“Hmm you’re right,� Parvati said, and for one brief, shining, beautiful moment Hermione had thought she had been freed the embarrassment of possibly being paired with Dumbledore or Flitwick.

“What about Snape?� Lavender chimed in. Hermione’s face fell, screwing up in a look of distaste.

It had gotten even worse when after ten minutes of figuring the pair had informed her that her intended was indeed Professor Snape, and apparently they were to live in a shack with four children.

As if the Potions master would ever condescend to live in a shack, she rather thought his tastes were above that. And he hated children! That much was obvious on a daily basis. Besides all that she would never marry him in the first place, although perhaps that should have been her first assertion.

“You better get used to calling him Severus. It would be weird yelling for Professor Snape to take out the garbage or put the kids to bed, wouldn’t it?� Lavender had said with an evil laugh.

“Not Severus…but Sevie,� Parvati had countered. They had laughed so hard they had fallen off Hermione’s bed, which was good because she had been getting ready to shove them off anyway.

“This is a stupid game,� she had spat before storming out of the room in search of better company.

But the name had stuck with her. When he filed past her desk in Potions, his overly large nose sniffing out any mistakes, she couldn’t help but smile at the thought of her, or anyone else for that matter, calling him Sevie. When he insulted her until tears stung her eyes, she held them back by thinking of answering back with an equally sarcastic retort punctuated by calling him Sevie. It was her own private joke that somehow made him seem more human.

Except now she would have to call him by his first name to his face. What if she slipped up and the little nickname she had used for months now slipped out.

She mustn’t let that happen.

Chapter Two

Hermione’s mother had once told her that one day she would give herself an ulcer if she kept worrying the way she did. But it was a part of her, something she couldn’t help. It would be like telling a dog to stop barking and do something else in his free time.

“Thank you, Severus,� she muttered under her breath a few days after NEWTs. The Leaving Feast was only days away and the prospect of slipping up had frightened her to the point that she had been practicing saying Professor Snape’s name.

In truth, she had practiced all her professors’ names and she felt fairly confident about Minerva and Albus. It had taken quite a lot of research to finally figure out Professors Vector and Sinistra’s first names but she was ready; ready for everyone but Snape.

“Are you talking to yourself again, Hermione?� Ron asked, looking at her worriedly.

“I know we complain that you talk too much,� Harry said.

“And about boring things,� Ron cut in.

“But we wouldn’t mind listening if you really need someone to talk to,� Harry assured her, putting his hand on her shoulder.

How nice of them to remind her that they didn’t usually care to listen to her go on about Arithmancy or Transfiguration, but then again, she bored even herself sometimes.

“It’s nothing really. I’m just a little nervous about leaving that’s all.�

They shook their heads in agreement but moved quickly onto the next subject. She sighed softly before delving into the finer points of the Chudley Cannons’ chances of winning the division finals. They were boys, they didn’t talk about their feelings, and honestly, she didn’t feel like explaining the reasons why she was nervous about the Leaving Feast. The more she dwelled on it, the more likely she would make a mistake, she concluded.

The Leaving Feast arrived much more quickly than she would have liked. She didn’t eat too much; too nervous about what was to follow. After the younger students had left the room, the teachers, headed up by Professor Dumbledore, lined up on one side while the seventh years followed suit on the other. Slowly the two lines merged and congratulations and thank-yous were exchanged.

“Ah, my dear boy,� she heard the headmaster exclaim to the student in front of her. “Congratulations, Neville.�

“Thank you, Albus,� Neville replied shyly before moving down the line. She was next. Taking a big breath, she stepped forward, holding out the small gift she had bought earlier that week in Hogsmeade.

“These are for you, Prof…�

“Hermione,� Dumbledore said with a stern look—stern but full of mischief.

“I mean, Albus. Sorry, sir.� She handed him the package.

“What are they?� he asked curiously, inspecting the plastic bag full of bright orange mounds.

“Circus peanuts. It’s a muggle candy. Personally, I think they are disgusting so I knew they would be just up your alley.� He smiled at her.

“Thank you, child,� he said. She threw her arms around him suddenly and without warning. She couldn’t help it; she couldn’t believe she was actually leaving.

“There, there,� he said, comforting her and patting her back. “Most people give me books, but I can’t wait to try these.� Pulling out of her embrace, he opened the small bag of candy, reached in, and popped one in his mouth. She watched in anticipation.

“Revolting! I love them!� he exclaimed with a twinkle in his eye.

Hermione moved on through the line, tears pricking her eyes as she hugged each professor. The very last, however, was the one she had dreaded the most. She wiped her eyes and approached him with her head held high.

“I hope you don’t expect the same sappy and sentimental send-off from me,� Snape sneered.

“Of course not.�

“Because the truth is I have anxiously awaited this day for the last seven years.�

“That comes as no surprise after the abominable way you’ve treated me,� she retorted.

“Just because I didn’t coddle you…�

“Despite the fact that I dreaded Potions for the last seven years I did learn a few things along the way and I just wanted to say thank you,� she interrupted. He stared at her in disbelief for several moments before taking her proffered hand.

“Congratulations, Hermione,� he said. She had never imagined that her name could sound like that, like melted chocolate or crushed velvet. There wasn’t the normal sneer attached to it, even if the underlying sarcasm was still there. She knew that he was being patronizing and condescending, but still, it sounded nice all the same.

“Thank you, Sevie,� she answered without thinking. The effect of hearing her first name on his lips had brought bizarre images of that shack Parvati and Lavender had told her about. Her mind had just progressed to the four kids and the process of getting kids when she realized what she had done.

“What did you just call me?� he hissed, squeezing her hand so tight she thought he might break the bones. After all that practice and she had done the one thing she had feared. How was she supposed to explain this? Would he even accept an explanation? Was there one?

“Thank you Severus. I mean, Sir. Thank you, Sir,� she stammered. He glared at her with cold black eyes. He hadn’t liked her little nickname, just as she had thought.

“You’re lucky I can no longer deduct house points, Miss Granger,� he said with a scowl but still holding onto her hand. Of course, if he had been in the position to take points then they wouldn’t be in this ridiculous situation in the first place. She ached to point that out to him but she had already gotten herself into trouble, she didn’t want to make it worse by being cheeky.

“I’m sorry but let’s let bygones be bygones, shall we? We are both adults after all aren’t we?� She said in her most adult voice, (she had been practicing that too.)

“How very mature of you,� he simpered but then pulled her closer so that only she could hear what he said next. “But if I hear that name cross your lips again you are going to be very sorry. Are we clear on that?�

She blanched and wrenched her hand from his. Rubbing where he had gripped her so tightly, she steeled herself and met his hard gaze.

“Seven years has taught me, if nothing else, that your bark is worse than your bite, Sevie,� she said and then she walked away—quickly.

Reaching the stairs, she sprinted up them and hurried to the portrait of the Fat Lady as fast as her legs would carry her. Her Gryffindor Courage had allowed her to make her parting remarks to Snape. Pride had kept her from looking back over her shoulder as she hurried away, though her ears were pricked and attuned to any movements that sounded like angry men with wands, but Prudence told her to get away as fast as possible.

Flopping down on her bed, she took a moment to breathe and process what she had just done. The nice thing about leaving at least was that she wouldn’t have to see him again—ever. Well, except for at Order meetings, and if she took that apprenticeship with Minerva, and the Wizarding community wasn’t that large she was bound to run into him sometime. Oh god, what was she going to do?!?

TBC

Chapter Three

While everyone else celebrated, noisily heading to the train, Hermione fretted and worried. What was she going to say the next time she saw him? Would he bring it up?

Maybe she would get lucky and he would just ignore her. He had certainly proved skillful at that in the last seven years; she had finally stopped raising her hand at his questions around the middle of sixth year. She recalled with bitterness how he had commented saying, “Not as quick as some of your other professors claim are we, Miss Granger? It only took you six and a half years to learn to keep your hand down and your mouth shut.�

On second thought, he deserved the little nickname he despised so much. Given enough time she was certain she could think of more apt ones. But when she saw him a week later in the kitchen at 12 Grimmauld Place she forgot her ire and the fear and respect that he inspired in her took its place.

“Good evening, Professor Snape,� she said automatically and then cursed herself for speaking at all. She had meant to avoid the man like the plague, pretty much like everyone but Albus did, but perhaps it was better to end it here and now.

“Ah so it’s back to Professor, is it?� he asked snidely.

“I thought you might prefer it but if you’d rather me call you Sevie, that’s fine,� she snapped back.

“You may call me whatever you wish as long as you harbor a death wish, ‘Mione.�

“I hate that name!� she exclaimed without thinking.

“Oh I had so hoped you would,� he purred.

Of course he had been trying to retaliate. She should have known better than to allow him the upper hand so easily.

“Or how about Hermie? I rather like that one myself,� he continued.

“I’m going to kill Lavender and Parvati,� she muttered under her breath. They had gotten her into this mess in the first place. Because of them she was arguing with the Potions Professor about calling her Hermie.

“What was that?� he asked sharply. “I fail to see how Miss Brown and Miss Patil have anything to do with this.�

“This all started because of some stupid game that Lavender and Parvati made me play this past winter.�

And with that she spilled the whole story. She probably could have left out the part about the four kids and the shack, but once she started, she couldn’t stop. He stood there looking at her oddly, but for the first time in her memory he didn’t cut her off. He seemed transfixed by her tale.

“Is this some sort of sick joke?� he hissed when she finally finished. His face contorted with anger. And then it suddenly dawned on her why he had been so offended at her moniker. He had thought she had been making fun of him. After years of being called ‘Snivellus’ he hadn’t taken to her shortened version of his name and frankly she didn’t blame him.

But had she been making fun of him? She could hardly tell. Normally she was his staunchest defender when Ron and Harry called him names or even when they forgot the title of Professor.

No, she decided, she hadn’t meant it to poke fun but as a term of affection, of endearment. Somewhere along the way she had developed a crush for her hated Potions Professor. The same man that openly mocked her, never commenting on her potions except to criticize, and had never said a kind word to her and she liked him? It seemed impossible.

Why couldn’t she have liked someone sensible like Ron? Ron who liked to have a good laugh, who kept her from becoming too serious, and who was not only her own age but happened to be a decent human being.

She had become one of those girls who liked “dangerous men,� or maybe it was just because he was in a position of authority over her. She had heard of girls liking their professors before but not the hateful, mean, and spiteful ones. It was a ‘sick joke’ as Snape had so aptly put it, a sick joke played on them by cruel Fate.

“No, Sir. I’m afraid it’s no joke. It never would have happened if Madame Pince hadn’t fallen ill that week. Being forced to stay indoors with Lavender and Parvati is a dangerous thing.�

“So it would seem,� he snarled, but he regarded her seriously.

“A shack and four kids?� he asked a moment later. His anger seemed to have abated somewhat. She nodded.

“I hardly doubt you would ever condescend to live in a shack, Miss Granger. And as for children, I detest them. I see enough during the day; I certainly wouldn’t want to come home to four more.�

“Of course not, sir.�

“Besides, I would never marry you. Especially if you insisted on calling me by that horrible name.�

“And I would, I’m afraid,� she said with a mischievous smile.

This conversation had certainly taken quite the turn, she thought.

“Then it’s settled. Misses Brown and Patil are blithering idiots,� Snape concluded.

“Prime examples of wasted potential,� she lamented.

“You give them too much credit by assuming they had any potential to start with,� he said with a scowl.

Ah, there was the cruel and hateful man she knew and loved. She should have known the playfulness wouldn’t last long. Then as though suddenly aware and embarrassed by the duration, and certainly, the content of their conversation, he checked his watch.

“I’m looking for Bill Weasley. Have you seen him?� he asked impatiently.

“No, Severus, I have not,� she replied evenly. She hoped her voice didn’t betray her nervousness. He looked up from his watch abruptly to see her smiling slightly at him.

“Well if you see him, tell him to Floo me as soon as possible, Hermione,� he said before he turned to leave. The only time she had ever heard, and expected to hear for that matter, her name on his lips without the sneer or the undercurrent of sarcasm. It was a beautiful thing, a memory to cherish. Or maybe not. Maybe today would be a turning point and he would be able to see her as a serious adult, (she had used her adult voice after all and to great effect,) and perhaps she would see past his spiky defenses and come to appreciate his inner strength of character.

She laughed at the absurdity of it. It was outrageous of her to even like him, going against all logic. And in the end, logic would guide her.

“What’s so funny?� Ron asked her, coming into the room.

“Oh nothing,� she said quickly. “I was just laughing at something Severus said.�

“Severus?� he asked incredulous.

“You know, Ron,…Professor Snape.� He gaped at her. She briefly considered telling him what had transpired between her and the Potions Professor, but then decided against it. It was too personal a story to tell at the moment.

Besides, if Snape ever found out he would kill her. He had begrudgingly forgiven her for calling him Sevie once but if discovered that she had told Ron and Harry she would never be able to drink anything without being afraid it was poisoned. It would be worse than living with the Twins.

She would bury the truth along with the other inconsequential happenings that never seemed to stick in one’s mind. Someone could bring up the subject of the First Name Ceremony years from now and she would only respond with a vague, “Oh yes, that was something wasn’t it?� Or…He might never know it but he would always be Sevie to her.

TBC

A/N: I’m afraid to admit that this is indeed based on personal experience. I had a professor in college, (whose stinging sarcasm in class reminded me of Snape,) who always called me Miss Kennedy. He missed the First Name Ceremony so I thought I was okay. But he caught me after Baccalaureate, shook my hand and said, “Congratulations Jennifer.� He wouldn’t let go until I called him by his first name, and caught unaware it just slipped out and I replied, “Thanks Cliffy.� Dropping my hand, his only response was “Let’s just stick to Cliff.� I, of course, couldn’t just leave it like that so I stood there like an idiot and explained how the whole nickname came about, (which included me doing an impression of the German professor,) while he stood there looking at me strangely. So there you go…I hope you enjoyed it, one of my more embarrassing moments but also one of my funnier ones.