I Sent a Letter Saying I Approved
Even after the fires of the Floo vanished, Hermione could still feel the heat against her skin that could only be caused by the late summer air. It was such a shock after coming back from Australia, where it was still very much winter, and where her parents were still completely under the effects of the memory charm she had placed on them. And she still no idea how to lift it. But it was near the end of August now, and if Hermione stayed had any longer in Australia, she would have no way of finishing her education this year.
Hermione wasn’t even sure she could have decided against going to Hogwarts. Three days before, Hermione had found a very tired-looking owl trying to claw its way into her parents’ new dental office, a Hogwarts letter in its claws. Inside had been a large silver badge and a message from Professor McGonagall telling Hermione that she had been named Head Girl. The new headmistress had told her with everything that had happened in the past year, she would be someone the student body would see as a leader, and she was quite possibly the most qualified person for the job.
Who knew? Maybe the year back at school would give her more opportunities to further study Memory Charms and how to lift them; more so than pretending to be the Muggle receptionist at Wilkins’ Dentistry in remote Wonthaggi, Victoria would.
Hermione set her cloak over one of the chairs in the kitchen. With the time change, it was obscenely late by the time she arrived at the Weasleys’. Molly and Arthur had told her long ago that she could always think of the Burrow as home, and there would always be a place for her there. It was just as well; Hermione certainly couldn't go back to her parents’ house.
Hermione tiptoed into the dim living room, planning on spending the night on the coach so she wouldn’t awaken everyone upstairs, but someone was already there waiting for her. "Hermione?"
Hermione’s tired shoulders slumped at the voice, and went to go join him on the sofa. "Hello, Ron. What are you still doing up.”
"Waiting for you," Ron told her, his eyes tired and bleary. It was clear he should have gone to bed a long time ago. Hermione reached up to stroke the side of his face sympathetically.
Ron chuckled under his breath before saying, "Harry's bloody pissed at you."
"Really? What did I do this time?"
Ron leaned his head over the top of the sofa, his eyes shut. "You missed Snape's funeral."
Hermione groaned and fell to her side as the realization washed over her. After learning about the friendship between his mother and their former teacher, as well as everything he had done in the fight against Voldemort, Harry had been determined to make sure the entire wizarding world saw him as a hero. A very elaborate funeral was planned and carried out for the man, paid entirely out of Harry's own pocket, and anybody who was anybody in the wizarding world was in attendence.
A funeral that took place exactly two weeks after Hermione had left for Australia. Even as she sank into the couch cushions, Hermione already knew she was not going to hear the end of this for a long time.
On the table in front of Ron’s couch, there was the morning’s edition of the Daily Prophet. An old photograph of Snape was on the front page. Even before Hermione had left for Australia, Harry had been hard at work at his campaign to redeem their teacher’s name, and it would seem it was still going strong. And while Harry might not have been trying as hard to make Snape a hero as he had been for Remus and Tonks, he was at least going to do everything he could to make sure Snape had lost his name as the old dungeon bat. Though it seemed to be more out of guilt than anything else, in Hermione’s humble opinion.
"Harry's not here, is he?" she had to ask.
"No, he's staying at Grimmauld Place. Says he's got a lot of dust and drank to clean out of the place."
Hermione breathed a sigh of relief. At least there was that. She could put off the inevitable tongue-lashing for a few days, at least.
It wasn’t as though Hermione had anything against attending funerals, even for those who were outside her circle of friends. Of course she had postponed her trip until after Fred’s funeral...as well as Remus and Tonks', Colin Creevy, Parvati Patil, a few other members of Dumbledore’s Army, and countless others. Attending so many at once had convinced Hermione that no one else in her life would be allowed to die before her. All joking aside, though, Hermione had probably attended more funerals for people she had known in the past year than any three people combined would in their entire lifetimes.
Snape’s funeral had been significantly later than all the others had been. But Hermione doubted this would serve as an excuse for her absence.
A sudden, amusing thought came to Hermione's mind. "No, I didn't go to the funeral," she began to quote, "but I sent a letter saying I approved.”
Ron shot Hermione an odd look, as though he wasn't quite sure what to make of what had just been said.
“It’s a quote,” Hermione explained. “From Mark Twain. He was an American Muggle author, and he had this really odd sort of humor…and he was known best for was making satire of serious subjects….”
Hermione let her voice trail off. Any other time, she would have been more than willing to tell Ron about Muggle authors and cultural references, but tonight she was just too drained.
"Seriously, though, Hermione." Ron spoke up again. "Why didn't you wait to leave for Australia? You've been gone for months."
Hermione turned to lie on her back, her head resting on Ron’s lap. In the back of her mind, she could think of a very good reason for not attending the man’s funeral, but she wasn’t quite sure how it would be perceived. "Ron...you're going to think I'm a horrible person for saying this, but...why are we all suddenly pretending Snape was a wonderful person?"
Hermione watched Ron's eyes grow wide, but continued. He wanted her to be serious, and she was being absolutely serious!
"I mean...this was the man who tormented us every chance he got. He took points from Gryffindors for sneezing too loudly and never even tried to hide his contempt for our House. If he became a teacher under any other circumstances, he would have been sacked long before any of us started at Hogwarts!"
Ron's face was turning white at the sound of what had only recently become blasphemy, but Hermione kept going. She could hear her voice going faster and faster, the conversation starting to turn into a rant.
"It's all well and good that he was a friend to Harry’s mum, but what does that mean to us. He didn't know our parents, and he didn't have any sort of influence in where we ended up in our lives. In fact, if he hadn't died, all we would remember him for was being a royal prick who only existed to make children cry and to make our three lives especially miserable! Can you even remember one instance of him being even a hint of pleasant to any of us?"
But before Ron could answer, Hermione had more to say. “I mean, yes, the man had a terrible life growing up, but lots of people had bad childhoods! Harry had a terrible childhood, but he is our best friend! Every day of his life, Snape chose to be a ripe bastard to just about everyone he came across!”
Then came the closing of Hermione’s rant. “And now that he’s dead, we’re all supposed to pretend he was some sort of misunderstood saint? Do you know what that is?” Hermione asked Ron, even though by now he looked like he was completely terrified of her. “That’s…THAT’S…BLOODY BULLSHIT!”
Hermione speech came to an end, with her taking a series of deep breaths in an effort to calm down. She could feel her blood pressure rising and her heart beating out of her chest. As she started to settle down, she suddenly became very thankful Harry had not been around to see her little outburst. But, Harry not being around didn’t change the fact that everything Hermione said was true, no matter how brutal it might have been.
If Snape had survived the war, he might have become seen in a more positive light, but certainly not to the extent that Harry was trying to push things. An if Snape were still alive, he would not undergo some drastic personality change once everyone found out about his past. He would be the cruel, snarky teacher who probably shouldn’t have even been allowed around kids. The only difference his death made was that the man wouldn’t be around to contradict the image of a misunderstood hero.
Hermione pushed herself up into a seated position, and finally began to relax, even though Ron was sitting dumbstruck, trying to lean away from her in a state of paralyzed fear. “It had to be said,” she told him. "It is good to be home, though.” Hermione scooted closer to Ron, laying her head on his shoulder.
At first, Ron sat stiff and scared beside her, but eventually she heard, “It’s good to have you back, Hermione.”
And as horrible as it might have been to say about a dead person, Hermione had a very distinct feeling that Snape wouldn't have wanted it any other way.
As long as she did send that letter saying she approved.
I Sent a Letter Saying I Approved by OliveOil_Med
Story Notes:
To all Snape fangirls out there, please don't kill me! I know, Snape is tragic, and good at heart, and on and on and on...but everything Hermione said...had to be said.
That being said, please enjoy the story.
Chapter Notes: Thank you to my wonderful betas, Justice and Sagen!