It had been a trial of a Tuesday.
It had rained the previous night; the morning was overcast. Callie thought it had been ominous. She had never seen a greyer day.
Shortly after breakfast, Kia and Thalia bumped into each otherâ”and like the laden clouds above the Great Hallâs ceiling, the collision emitted sparks. Jessica and Jesusa immediately gasped exaggeratedly and just as melodramatically drew their arms sideways to shield the others moving toward the doors. Callie felt really violent toward the two, but chose to keep her eyes on Kia and Thalia.
âCome on, please, Lia,â said the Ellington-Shaw girl, tugging on Thaliaâs arm.
Now, Thalia might have followed, but Kiaâs Irish-Mexican temper erupted. âYou donât turn your backs on me. I will not be dismissed like that.â
Callie saw Thalia swell and turn red. Callie held her breath. But Thaliaâs voice was like syrup. âIâm sorry, Ronkâ” Kia. Forgive us for being rude, Kia. By all means, shall we go off together?â She swept an arm gracefully and even bowed. âAfter you.â
Kia blinked, taken aback, and then nodded. Liaâs smile was angelic.
The moment Kiaâs back was turned, however, Lia said in a carrying whisper: âMud before springwater.â
Now, Callie had always been serene. Her grandfather had said it was exhausting just to rouse her. But that simple phrase uttered behind her somehow snapped something, jerked a plug, yanked a stopper...on the temper Callie didnât know she had.
She whipped her head around and glared at Lia. Even as she did it, she had this small tug in her heart saying it was wrong to glare at this girl, but Callie was beyond tugging. If Kia hadnât been quick to hold her wrist, Callie might have slapped or punched or drawn her wand.
As it was, Callie just said through gritted teeth, âPearls before swine.*â
And then she shook off Kiaâs hand only to grab it and haul her away.
They were the first to reach the Charms corridor. Kia dug her heels in to stop, panting, but Callie still continued running and didnât stop until she was bent over a sink. She revisited her strawberry and clotted cream scones and sweet tea.
âAww, Callie, you were really upset,â said Lia, still out of breath, arriving at the bathroom and promptly grabbing Callieâs hair.
Callie rinsed her mouth and moaned. What had come over her? She would have to apologize to Lia, and maybe even explain that she hated the word âmudâ, because she had grown up being told stories of her dear mother being branded with that word. Of course, Lia might not have meant anything even remotely wicked, she was probably just teasing. Callieâs reaction, on the other handâ” she grimaced.
She and Kia were quiet when they exited the toilet. A queue had formed by the time they went back to the Charms corridor. Lia was waiting for them, leaning against the wall and tapping her foot. The tapping stopped when she spotted Callie and Kia. And then she walked over.
Her face was blank, devoid of emotion. Their classmates watched avidly, and Jesusa and Jessica were being silly cows again, shielding everyone again. Callie gulped. She wanted to apologise in private, not in front of this meddlesome crowd. They wanted a show, and Callie had been raised with an aversion to such. It was tacky.
She opened her mouth to ask Lia if they could go away from the onlookers a bit, but Lia cut her off.
âYou called us swine.â
Callie grimaced again. âIâm sorry.â
âYou will be.â
It was absolute torture. Callie felt so sick sheâd heaved herself dry before lunch. It was the first time she had an enemy, and that enemy was Lia, whom she liked so much and only inadvertently offended. Ugh.
To make it worse, Kia had heard the threat, so she had constantly looked around, never far away from Callie, giving everyone the evil eye, even the teachers, daring one and all to hex, kick or give undue detention.
After lunch, they had no more classes, and Callie wanted nothing more than to hide in bed and wish everything blown over by the next day.
She didnât even raise her eyes from her feet as Kia steered her out the Great Hall.
Just then, Professor Flitwick appeared by her legs.
âDears, can you kindly deliver a message to Professor Hagrid for me?â the tiny professor squeaked. âI lost the Bowtruckles he lent me for my class. They escaped and are probably back at the Forbidden Forest by now. I need him to give me two of them again. But no hurry. Have you got that?â
âYes, professor,â said Kia. Callie just nodded.
âThank you, dears! Iâm off to my fifth-years. You can go to the Owlery and send the message by owl or you can go to Professor Hagrid yourselves and just tell him. He should be in his hut.â He conjured a tiny roll of parchment and gave it to them, a permission note.
Kia was delighted to go out to the grounds, but Callie was still miserable. She still kept her head down. She didnât even notice Kia knocking on the door of the gamekeeperâs hut. She only gasped when she was knocked to the ground.
âFang! Down, Fang! Are you alrighâ, miss?â
Callie got up and nodded.
âSorry abouâ Fang. He gets overexcited when thereâs compâny. What can Iâ”? Huh. Look at you.â
Callie looked back down. Did Professor Hagrid see how wretched she was? Did he need to comment on it?
âCallieâs indisposed, Professor, donât mind her. Professor Flitwick sent us...â
She tuned out the conversation. There was some argument. It sounded like Kia wanted to take the Bowtruckles and Professor Hagrid refused... and then there was Kia saying, âThank you, sir. Weâd love to. Maybe next time. I think I need to bring my friend to bed.â
And then they were walking back toward the castle. Callie looked back. She felt sheâd been rude to Professor Hagrid as well. To her surprise, he stood there beside his big black dog, Fang, and he waved at her.
âHe invited us to tea. He said you looked like a dear friend of his. Look, I think I see Professor Flitwick coming toward the doors to meet us. He must have worried about us green things out here for him.â
They sped up but the tiny professor still beat them to the front oak doors.
And then he was deluged in water.
Callie and Kia yelped. The water had splashed their socks and it was frigid.
Laughter erupted from behind the house-point hourglasses. Lia and Dionelise emerged. Of course, when they saw the sputtering Professor Flitwick, their laughter died quickly, and as though drained like the hogshead still floating several feet above everyoneâs heads, their faces lost colour.
After three violent sneezes, Professor Flitwick dried himself, gave five points to Slytherin for a magnificent Levitation Charm, took twenty-five points from Slytherin for the use the charm had been put to, and stormed off. When he sneezed again as he reached the staircase, he turned around and yelled, âAnother twenty-five points from Slytherin!â
At his yell, the hogshead dropped, narrowly missing Callie and Lia. They both jumped away. Without looking at each other, the four of them parted. That tension didnât help Callie later as she lay in bed. She didnât go down to dinner.
âIs it true you made Granger and Ellington-Shaw lose fifty points?â said Jesusa. Callie jumped and wearily turned to see the girl peering at her between the drawn bed curtains.
âGood job, witch!â said Jessica from somewhere in the room.
âShut up or weâll lose five hundred points because I murdered you,â said Kia.
Callie moaned.
The staff room usually filled between supper and bedtime, the one time of day when the Head students were in charge and the teachers were assured of no interruptions to their rest, but not eager to be abed just yet. Teaspoons rotated in teacups serenely. Quills scratching and abaci rattling were background music to the scattered chatter. The Headmistress was proud of her staff â” well, most of them â” and she rather liked being there in their midst, though she wasnât one to contribute a word herself.
She had already told them, the newcomers, not to mind her in the least. She had never been one to talk, and as she grew older, Minerva had found she preferred listening more and more.
Annetta was after Minervaâs heart. They usually sat together in companionable silence, each reading a copy of Transfiguration Today, where Annettaâs dissertations were published every three months.
Today, however, Annetta was not in her usual place near the head of the table, but was in the middle, helping Pomona give Filius a Lemon, Gurdyroot-and-Plimpy Gills infusion, a lesser-known alternative to Pepper-up. The infusion was something very few Wizarding folk wanted or bothered with because of the smell. But Filius had a strange reaction to Pepper-Up. It made him noisily and very foully flatulent. Something Poppy wouldnât take to account against a speedy cure. And as Poppy was quite devious when it came to stubborn patients, there Filius was.
âBut itâs your hide when Poppy comes after you. Really, can you be even more infantile, escaping from the infirmary?â Annetta said.
Filius looked up from his smoking, reeking goblet to exchange a look with Minerva, whose lips and cheeks twitched in amusement. Annetta was thirty-four. Filius was half a century and a decade older.
âThis Malfoy girl we have, is she a daughter of Draco Malfoy? There is no other, right?â Pomona asked, diverting Annettaâs scolding.
âYes, dear,â Minerva answered without looking up from her paper, though she tensed inwardly.
âNever would have thought it,â said Filius. âExcept for the grey eyes, sheâs not a Malfoy at all. In fact, she reminds me of â”â
âJanus, leave the cupboards alone!â Minerva barked. âOh, Iâm sorry; I thought I saw you approaching it in my peripheral vision. Do remember to stay away, dear, our cupboards are reserved for Hestiaâs classes now. I never knew other enclosed spaces so prone to Boggarts. I think they like being here right under our noses.â
After this long uncharacteristic babbling from the Headmistress, the eccentric, slightly dotty Potions professor calmed down from his sputter and settled back to marking his classâs papers. Minerva smiled in apology at Filius for the interruption, but conveyed a warning in her eyes...
...which, unfortunately, was lost on Filiusâs cold-fogged brain.
âAnd I never would have thought Miss Granger would have a child so soon as well. I remember resolving not to quit until I have taught a child of hers, but I hadnât bargained my dream would be realised only a year over a decade.â
âSheâs eleven, Filius,â cajoled Annetta, grinning, no doubt thinking the side-effects from the infusion was manifesting.
âNo, no, I mean Hermione Granger, the mother of our current Miss Granger, who was the one who conspired with her friend the worthy Miss Feliciano to upend that rainwater hogshead on me.â
Minerva felt a muscle twitch below her eye. The cat was out. It had never been a secret, per se. Just never made public.
âThe Hermione Granger? Harry Potterâs friend?â asked Annetta, who had lived in New Zealand.
âYes, yes, she was a favourite of mine, of nearly all of us, isnât that right?â Filius looked around at the table, showing his purple Gurdyroot-Plimpy moustache. âOne of the cleverest we ever taught. She ought to have been in my House.â
Minerva didnât snort at that, as was her wont. She only sighed and hoped this chat wouldnât go too far. Sheâd promised Hermione to keep the gossip down.
âBut wait a moment, if Miss Granger is Hermione Grangerâs child, why Granger? Why isnât the child using her fatherâs name?â
No one answered. Janus paused in his mouthing to glance up at the sudden silence. Everyone else had something to read or peer at while Annetta flushed at her faux pas.
âEssays so soon, Janus?â Annetta asked, to make up.
Janus blinked. âI, uh, made my students list their favourite Potions ingredients. A potion could come up from these, donâtchuh know.â
Filius, though now very groggy from Gurdyroot and Plimpy Gills, still took that in and sent another eloquent look to Minerva, who just shrugged philosophically. One couldnât always have the best.
Lia picked at her breakfast that Wednesday morning. Sheâd confessed all to her Uncles Harry and Ron last night. She felt horrible. Sheâd lost Slytherin fifty points on her second day at school, (probably) made Professor Flitwick ill, and (certainly) hurt her sister.
Even while Lia exploited Dioneliseâs impish alter-ego, sheâd noticed Callieâs dejectedness throughout the day. Lia wanted to cancel any and all plans of a prank, but Dionelise had looked so radiant when theyâd found that hogshead after looking where Callie and Kia had gone off to. Dionelise had been eager and unstoppable.
Lia looked over at her friend serenely sipping her tea. Her twin uncles would love Dionelise, after they discover whatâs underneath the deceptive daintiness.
Mail arrived, but Lia didnât have a reply from her uncles yet.
On the Gryffindor table, a pretty tawny owl with the symbol of a store in a silver chain around its neck landed in front of Callie. She took the slender box tied to the birdâs leg and unwrapped it.
Lia watched. Her breath caught as the cut-glass vase sparkled in the morning light. The moment Callie placed it on the table, a bouquet of wild and hothouse flowers sprouted and bloomed at the mouth of the vase. Callie was radiant now, a very different Callie from the day before. She read a small card, beaming widely. She said something to that Kia girl, and both of them grinned happily.
Lia felt her very first pinprick of jealousy.
And the pinprick didnât remain a pinprick. By the time she went to the greenhouses, the pinprick was a gaping, throbbing hole of resentment in her chest. It didnât help that she was surrounded with plants. No one had given her flowers before.
She didnât have her father to give her flowers.
Only Callie would receive them.
Only Callie had him. And suddenly Callie wasnât so innocent any longer. She had what Lia should have had.
After Herbology, Lia went to Transfiguration in the same listless state. Professor Morfosa scolded her for leaving everything blank in that first dayâs surprise exam. The professor had only wanted to gouge the classâs knowledge of the basics and hadnât asked anything beyond their course bookâs first five pages, but Lia hadnât answered anything, nor did she answer Professor Morfosaâs questioning. She ended up losing ten points.
Most of the Slytherins glared at her all through lunch.
âWhatâs the matter, Lia? Are you ill?â
She just shook her head at Dionelise.
It was her turn to hole up in their common room and not go down to dinner.
She wanted to hit herself for being silly, but she didnât feel silly at all. Only sad. Sheâd need a night to stew over this and then sheâd be better tomorrow.
Tomorrow, she wouldnât care about her absentee father again.
So what if he gave flowers to his daughter? And who even said the flowers were from him? It was probably from another relative. A man who could leave her and her mother behind for another woman and another child just couldnât be the kind to do that... sweet gesture.
She thumped her pillow and grunted.
âLia?â Dionelise called outside her bed curtains. âWe have to go to Astronomy.â
Lia sniffed and wrested her arm from under a pillow to peer at her watch. It was a half-hour to midnight.
She sat up and pulled her curtains back. Dionelise was sitting on her own bed, cloak already donned. She smiled at Lia tentatively. âAre you alright? You can stay in bed if you like. Iâll tell them youâ”â
âIâm fine, thanks.â
âYour cheeks are wet.â
Lia slapped herself in her haste to wipe. âI drool a lot.â
Dionelise nodded. Because she didnât pry, Thalia put an arm around her shoulder after fastening her own cloak and they went out their dormitory and out the common room that way, side by side. Lia was glad of the comfort.
All first-years of all houses were stood there sandwiched by the battlements of the Astronomy Tower. Professor Sinistra checked attendance, snorted impatiently at the clouds, and conjured a projection of a portion of the Milky Way herself.
âBefore you grumble that we might as well have done this in a classroom, this spell I just used only works when cast from high up, as we are here, or atop a hill or a mountain. Now just be patient and listen to me. Weâll be through in another half-hour or so, dears...â
Lia didnât even realise sheâd been staring at Callie until Callie caught her eye and smiled the same smile Dionelise had given earlier: hesitant and timid.
Oh, and she was right to be hesitant and timid, what with her mother being a... usurper! Lia glared and looked away.
The class finished without Lia remembering a thing. She jumped when a hand closed around her wrist and pulled her away from the end of the spiral staircase to the hallway.
âWhat are you doing?â She pulled away violently and hit her hand on the stone wall. âOw!â
Callie reached for her hand again but Lia drew back, glaring.
âI want us to be friends again, please, Lia,â Callie said, taking Liaâs wrist again and ignoring Liaâs tugs. âIâm so sorry for what I said Monday. It was just temper andâ” please, I donât want you angry with me still. What can I do to make up?â
For several moments, Lia wanted to hold Callieâs hand and put an arm around her. But soon after Callie finished speaking in that pleading, sweet voice, Liaâs resentment returned. âThereâs nothing either of us could do,â she said vehemently. âOh wait, you can write and tell your mother I hope sheâs happy and that she doesnât choke whenever she eats.â
With that, she wrenched her arm away and stalked off without turning back even though Callie called to her loudly, outraged.
Thatâs right. Let her feel an iota of what I feel.
Callie lay awake all night. Even by the time there was light seeping in through the parting in her bed drapes, she still didnât move. In the end, Kia had to leave by herself to breakfast. That was long ago. It must now be less than an hour before Defence Against the Dark Arts, but Callie cared little.
Her teeth ached. She didnât know how long sheâd been clenching her jaws to keep from screaming. Her fists ached, too. Sheâd had to clench them to keep from running like mad to the Slytherin common room and demand answers from Lia.
What did Lia know about Callieâs mother?
And whatever she knew, how dare she talk like that!
Hermione found the cottage at the very corner of the bend separating the residences from the business hub of Hogsmeade.
She grudgingly admitted it was nice, log and brick, tucked in the middle of trees and flowerbeds. The arched windows had forest green shutters with shamrocks carved in the middle.
Smoke curled from the fat chimney.
Her knees nearly buckled. They were here.
Or was it just him? And why?
Hermione took a deep breath, squared her shoulders and walked through the open garden gate. She might as well get this over with while she was here. She had every right to question him. Theyâd signed an agreement. She didnât remember any codicils giving him even the tiniest leeway to this madness.
There was another shamrock on the door, this one brass. The third leaf was suspended over a matching brass knob. A knocker. Hermione tapped it with her wand. It lifted and dropped thrice, making a discreet tap-tap-tap.
It matched her heartâs drum. Who would open the door? Would it beâ”
âHermione?â
Oh, no, he couldnât do this. Hermione gritted her teeth and squared her shoulders again. She ignored Dracoâsâ”she ignored him, and asked, also whispering, but without the awe, âIs Calliope here?â
Dracoâs jaw popped audibly as he closed his mouth. He also closed the door.
âWe have an agreement, if I recall correctly.â All business now. Huh. Well. Hermione was the queen of âall businessâ.
âYes, we do. Which is why Iâve come to demand answers. You broke the agreement. A Wizarding agreement. I want to know how youâre breathing and talking and walking without so much as a hint of a recent blood poisoning.â
âWhy, youâre right, Iâm healthy as a hippogriff! I think I didnât break the agreement.â
âDonât play games with me!â She wanted to slap his arm, but that meant touching him. She wouldnât touch him. âWhat did you do? Howâ”?â
âHow about we discuss it in The Three Broomsticks? Or Madam Puddifootâs, if you prefer?â
Hermione growled. Draco chuckled, which made Hermione growled again.
âDonât you want to show off your new property?â
He lost his smile. Hermione had lost her vehemence.
âCan I see her? I mean, she doesnât have to see me, I justâ”â
She saw him wince when her voice broke. Ignoring her start of surprise, and then her struggles, he put his arm around her shoulder and steered her toward High Street, away from the cottage.
âLet me go, Draco!â
âI already did once. And I regret it.â
Some miles away at Hogwarts castle, Dracoâs little girl likewise insinuated herself on Hermioneâs little vixen.
Callie had missed Defence, but now she was in Charms. Professor Flitwick hadnât arrived yet though the first-years had been in the classroom ten minutes already. The Ellington-Shaw girl had gone to check what was holding up the professor in his office.
So Callie had taken her place lightning-quick beside Thalia Maura Granger.
âWhat did you mean by what you said last night about my mother?â
Lia shrugged, not looking at her, though Callie saw her recoil a little. âDid I use deep, deep words last night? Donât you understand it?â
âNo, I donât!â
Lia tilted her chin a little. âHow old are you?â
Callie was so taken aback by the question Lia had to answer it herself. âYouâre eleven, too, right?â
Callie nodded.
âSo weâre the same age.â
âWill you just answer my question? What does our ages have to do with my mother?â
Now Lia turned to give her a cutting look. âLet me tell you something about me. My fatherâs name is Draco Malfoy.â
Callie clapped a hand to her mouth.
Because as soon as Lia said it, Callie somehow knew it wasnât untrue. Her eyes moved to Liaâs hair, to Liaâs chin... and those eyes, though they were brownâ”
Suddenly, she was furious.
âSo this is why,â she said under her breath.
Lia heard her. âOh, you bet this is why!â she said derisively.
Callie was quiet now. She was always quiet when she was utterly, utterly angry. She continued to whisper, âYou and your mum is why my mum left my dad.â
âWhat? How dare you! You and your mum is why my dad left my mum!â
They didnât know any hexes yet, but they pointed their wands at each otherâs faces just the same. Their magic crackled loudly as sparks flew.
The Three Broomsticks would be too crowded for their conversation. Madam Puddifootâs was out of the question. Draco ended up leading Hermione to Chez Belindaâs, a new restaurant heâd been planning to try anyway.
That he was about to do so with Hermione astounded him. His insides were probably still somewhere around his calves. Nothing had prepared him to her arrival at his very doorstep so soon. Heâd expected an owl, a Howler. Heâd hoped it might even have been a call on the Floo. But here she was beside him.
âBon jour, bienvenu. Iâm Belinda. Table for two? Would you like to be in the patio facing the back garden, perhaps? Right this way, sâil vous plait.â
He liked Belinda. The woman didnât bat an eye even when Hermione threw off his arm and elbowed him. Belinda just nodded back at him when he nodded to her questions.
He pulled a chair for Hermione but she sat down on another. Pity. Their surroundings were quite too pleasant for an unpleasant mood.
âYour server will be with you shortly.â Belinda left. She was probably glad to. And Draco doubted she would dare send a server and risk losing that server to Hermioneâs apparent wrath.
Draco expelled breath noisily. Hermione didnât look at him. She was too busy rending the strap of her bag and blinking. Oh, gods, she was near tears.
âCallie isnât at the cottage, Hermione. I didnât drag you away from her.â
She sighed. He saw her mouth âCallieâ before turning to him.
âTell me everything. Why are you in England? It was in the agreement that youâd stay in France and wouldnât ever try seeingâ”â
âI did stay in France. And Iâm not trying to see Thalia.â
She gritted her teeth and there was a sharp sound as the leather strap sheâd been twisting finally snapped off her bag. She ignored it. âI canât believe it, is there really no time indicative in that clause about your âstayâ in France?â
Pop! Sheâd conjured the document. She read through it expertly. âOh, Merlin.â
âYeah, well, it was rather hastily drawn, if I recall.â Oh, and how he recalled. Every single detail. Even the exact eggshell shade of the curtains in that room at St Mungoâs. And how sheâd looked in that bed, emitting a joyful glow even as her eyes glared. How sheâd smelled. Beating the reek of potions, the scent of motherhood, sweetness and milk, had come from her.
As if she was thinking the very same thing, she made the document vanish and looked toward the garden again.
He took his chance and stared his fill of her.
She hadnât changed, though of course the past eleven years showed on her faceâ”in a kind way, a beautiful way. She was beautiful. He couldnât remember those years when he didnât think of her as that.
His heart made a dismayed bound in his ribcage when she got to her feet. âWell, good luck on whatever reason youâre here.â
Without looking at him, she left.
âOh, dear, I hope she wasnât too upset. But no wonder if she was. I completely understand. Shall I get you anything, Mâsieur Malfoy?â Belinda was back.
âIâm sorry. I think Iâll come back later.â Leaving several Galleons on the table, Draco got up. He was suddenly so tired though heâd only been up for an hour.
Belinda escorted him wordlessly to the door. She opened her mouthâ”probably to wish him a good dayâ”but he spoke over her.
âWhat did you mean when you said it would be no wonder if she was upset? You know her?â Do you know about us?
âWell, that was Hermione Granger, wasnât it? Iâve always seen her going here in Hogsmeade with Mr Potter and Mr Weasley during their Hogwarts days. Pity I didnât have the Chez then. But I only just got the money from my grand-mĂ©reâ”Oh, Iâm sorry for rambling. What was it you asked? Oh, yes. Well, I just thought she wouldnât be overly happy. It was in the paper that sheâd resigned from her position in the Department of Magical Law Enforcement. They probably did something she doesnât approve of. We can only wonder. It wasnât said what it was. And one doesnât fire Miss Granger. Sheâs the type who can only resign to pry herself away from a job. Well. Welcome to the neighbourhood, Mâsieur Malfoy. I hope you donât cook.â Belinda smiled affably.
Draco returned it. âOh, I donât. And Iâm suddenly famished. I think you can feed me now.â
Belinda was delighted. When he was seated again, this time just in the main dining room, he said, âCan I see that Daily Prophet?â
Hermione tried not to think about anything but the delicious heat of the water. She lolled her head back and reached for the teacup at the edge of the tub. Chamomile, mmm. Sheâd be fine in a moment.
Just mustnât think. Mustnât recall. Mustnât imagine.
Tap-tap-tap.
She groaned. Even that be-damned knocker was etched in her memory!
Tap-tap-tap.
Hermione pushed open one eyelid. Oh, an owl. She squinted. If it was Juliusâs with another pestering letter asking her to revoke her irrevocable resignation, she was going to have to break something.
But it wasnât Juliusâs owl. This one was a regal black, not pretentious gold.
She rose from the bath and without bothering to throw on a robe, she reached up and opened the window just enough to let the owl in.
The Hogwarts crest was on the envelope, and typical of Hogwartsâ owls, the bird left as soon as Hermione took the letter.
âDear Hermione,
I hope this letter reaches you in fine health and spirits.
Iâve read about your resignation from your job at the Ministry. I am herewith offeringâ”nay, beggingâ”that you take the post of Charms Professor at Hogwarts. And I will rather write to you as a friend rather than a prospective employer, too; hence this informal missive.
Filius has been restricted to bed rest for a week, and then he is no longer to exert himself to cope with the demands of teaching after that. He had a bad cold. And the Healers say it was one of those colds that never leave. We found him unconscious in his office this morning. He had fatigued himself.
Well, he was getting on. Iâm sure if I had been drenched by hogshead water in the middle of autumn I wonât be able to recover fully either. He has of course protested violently about Poppyâs and the Healersâ sentence, but in the end, he gave in. With the condition that we give the job only to someone with your calibre. You are still his favourite.
It is uncanny that you had also just resigned from your job.
Iâm sure Filius will be ecstatic itâs you who will be taking over for him.
And Iâm sure he will forgive your daughter for the hogshead incident, too, if he hasnât already. You know how kind he is.
Speaking of your daughter, prior to my being summoned to Filiusâs office, she and another student, Calliope Malfoy, had hexed each other while waiting for their indisposed professor. Nothing serious. Just sparks. I talked to them, but they both said nil about the matter. As neither of them were unharmed (mild burns has been magically, perfectly treated, of course), and as we were occupied with the matter of Charms having no teacher, they received no punishment but the loss of points and a warning from me. They are good children (naturally, for they are yours), Iâm confident that was sufficient.
Now, Hermione, I await your owl. I do hope you will join my staff.
Sincerely,
Minerva
Hermione didnât know whether to laugh or cry.
She took a towel from the rack and dried herself, her mouth still gaping and closing at the contents of the letter.
By the time she exited to her bedroom, however, she was smiling wryly.
Minerva could very well be a Slytherin. The letter was so subtle in its cunning, but cunning all the same. She had sealed every nook and cranny, fired every arrow and shot every apple. Hermione wouldnât be able to do anything but accept the post.
And accept it Hermione would. Oh, gods. She couldnât wait to be there at Hogwarts.
It would be good to teach Charms. Iâd always wanted to teach. It had been a cherished childhood dream. Iâm going to Hogwarts to teach.
She waited. No spider feet crawled over her limbs. No cloud shrouded her vision. No sponge closed on her lungs.
She grinned. She was now glad the agreement had been hastily drawn.