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