Life or Something Like It

Life or Something Like It

Chapter 1

* * * * *

It was over. Seven years of classes, seven frightening yet marvelous adventures, a secret war, a massive battle, and one dark lord later, they were finished with school. The house-elves had, as always, outdone themselves; the Leaving Feast had been simply fantastic.

The affair, however, had been bittersweet. The Great War, as it was being called, left few students unscathed. There were few dry eyes as Dumbledore spoke about the sacrifices the brave students and alumni had made in defending the freedom of all.

In the end, Voldemort's great final attack came shortly after the start of spring term. Combatants lined up and the school grounds became a massive battlefield. It was just beyond where Professor Sprout's greenhouse had stood, a few dozen meters from the damaged quidditch pitch that Harry and Voldemort finally squared off. There was a sickening silence as the opponents circled, sizing each other up. They took aim and each cast a spell. No one was completely sure what happened next. Both went completely rigid and it seemed as if they entered some type of trance. Not a single observer moved for the long moments of the duel. When it ended, both collapsed to the muddy ground. Harry struggled but soon rose from the muck, triumphant. A great, victorious cry rose up from those that had opposed the dark wizard. The deatheaters, seeing their leader's demise, either surrendered immediately or ran.

An almost surreal atmosphere pervaded the whole Wizarding World in the following weeks. The secret war had gone on for so long that few could believe that Voldemort's reign of terror was finally over. Hogwarts became the center of the post war frenzy. The destroyed grounds and damaged castle became a required destination for the countless reporters and Ministry officials who sought first hand accounts of the last moments. Harry shunned them all, simply stating that it was all over and the details were unimportant.

Work began immediately to repair the damage, first to the school itself and then to the outlying structures. Dumbledore intervened in the media attention. He sighted a need for all the students, including the great hero, to return to their studies and normalcy.

Much to the delight of the students, the first to be repaired was the quidditch pitch. As a result, the schoolwork resumed where it was left off, and so did the quidditch season. It was a memorable moment for all when Harry led the Gryffindor team to the front of the Great Hall to claim the Cup. They were loud and rambunctious, but no one seemed to mind their less than good sportsmanship. It was the first time in months a smile had actually reached to Harry's eyes.

There were no surprise additional points awarded this year, but Gryffindor won the House Cup regardless. Everyone cheered and celebrated the finish of a truly memorable school year, and come morning, they would all be off to the face the world at large.

Hermione Granger sat alone in one of the gardens. There was a party in the common room, but she didn't have the heart to join in. An owl had come bearing news of her last hope and had failed.

Salem University in Massachusetts, along with every other higher learning establishment in the Wizarding World, had rejected her.

She had been so excited at the start of the year about the prospect of university. Professor McGonagall had been very helpful through the whole application process, though she had only barely been able to conceal her disappointment that Hermione had chosen potions over transfiguration as a course of study.

Over Christmas at Grimmauld Place, she had been finishing additional applications when Molly Weasley had taken a seat at the table beside her. She had told Hermione that she was proud to see how she was coming on with her studies, but that she shouldn't be disappointed.

When Hermione had defensively asked why, Molly explained to her that many university officials were wealthy, purebloods. Many with suggested ties to dark magic. There were no concrete ties of course, at least nothing the Ministry would admit to. That was when what Mrs. Weasley was telling her sunk in. It wasn't that being muggle born would hurt her chances of going to university. It had a great deal to do with the fact that she was also Harry Potter's best friend. Molly had shook her head and laid a hand on her shoulder as Hermione had rested her head on the table.

"We just... It's something we all thought you should be told," she had gently whispered. "He has no idea about any of this."

"It would kill him to know." Hermione had raised her head and wiped at invisible tears on her face. "He takes everything far to personally."

She had finished those applications and sent them away with hope that Mrs. Weasley had been wrong. Even as the rejections had come in, she held out hope until now.

She sighed and studied the night sky.

"Miss Granger?" a resonant voice broke her maudlin thoughts.

Hermione turned as Professor Snape approached her from across the courtyard. She was sure she must have been imagining, but there had seemed to be a note of worry in his voice.

"Shouldn't you be celebrating?" He took a seat on the bench beside her.

"And what do I have to celebrate, Professor?"

"I assume you heard from Salem then?" He sighed when she cast him a bewildered look. "Your Head of House informed me of your unfortunate responses."

"I'm Head Girl. I have the best marks in all my classes. I scored highest on the NEWTS in thirty years. I helped defeat the sodding dark lord. What the hell else do they want from me?"

"Watch your language, Miss Granger. As for what they want from you, letters proving you were adopted by muggles after your wizard parents were killed would be helpful. A note from the Dark Lord commending your work as a spy may also speed along your reconsideration."

She snorted. "That's all it comes to isn't it? Harry bloody Potter. I get to be a...a," she gestured wildly as she searched for the words, "tavern maid at the Leaky Cauldron because of Harry bloody Potter."

"Again, your language, Miss Granger," he scolded.

"With all due respect, sir. I simply don't care anymore." Hermione sniffled and stared at the gravel under her feet.

"Don't be so melodramatic," he offhandedly dismissed her outburst. "Does Mr. Potter know of your new feelings about his hard won fame?" Sarcasm dripped from his voice.

"Of course not. He already blames himself for every bad thing that's ever happened that he wasn't able to stop. He doesn't need to blame himself for this as well."

"Indeed."

He was acting like a human tonight. It was almost as if she was talking to a real person rather than Snape.

"Have you considered private tutelage?"

"Excuse me?" She spun toward him.

"Witty retort, Miss Granger. Have you considered earning your degree by studying privately with a potions master?"

"How did you know I was planning to study potions?"

"Aside from the fact that for months McGonagall has railed that you choose potions over transfiguration, the schools you sent applications to all came to me for recommendations."

"What did you tell them?" She was nearly afraid to hear the truth.

"I informed them that despite an incessant need to prove your intelligence to every being you come into contact with, you would prove a reasonably wise addition to their departments."

"I always thought you hated me..." She gaped at him. "Thank you, for what good it did."

"Have you considered earning your degree by studying independently under a potions master?"

"I have thought about it, but... I don't know anyone whom I could study under."

He was silent for a moment. "I have already spoken to the Headmaster. If you would be willing to stay here, I would supervise your degree."

"I... I don't know what to say."

"A simple yes or no would suffice."

"Yes, absolutely. Thank you." Hermione fought the urge to jump up and wrap her arms around the professor.

"Your things will be moved to a private room in the morning. Go back to London, see your family, make sure Potter and Weasley don't kill themselves on the way to Auror Training, and be back here by next Wednesday." He reached into his robes and withdrew a rolled parchment. "Here is a list of books and supplies you should get before you return. I believe you should be able to find all the listed items in Diagon Alley." He stood and turned toward the garden exit.

"Sir?"

He paused, looming over her.

"I don't mean to sound ungrateful but... Why..." She struggled for the words. "Why are you doing this for me?"

"Because Miss Granger, despite being an insufferable know-it-all, you possess the potential to become a rather bright witch. It would be unfortunate for our community to be deprived of the work you could accomplish simply because you made the mistake of befriending a glory- seeking miscreant." He turned abruptly and swept from the garden, black robes billowing as he disappeared into the shadowy corridor.

Hermione stared after him in bewilderment. Were it not for the parchment in her hands, she could be tempted to believe the whole conversation had been some bizarre dream.

* * * * *

Hermione practically skipped all the way back to Gryffindor tower. She pulled Harry and Ron aside the moment she slipped through the portrait hole. Once she told them she was going to stay at Hogwarts and study with Professor Snape, the speed which their reactions shifted from disgust to outrage to acceptance amazed even her.

"But 'Mione..." Ron shook his head. "Why that greasy git? Isn't there someone else? Anyone else?"

"Certainly Ronald." Her voice took on the tone she most often used when scolding him. "I'll just slip right down to the dungeons and turn down his offer then go look for someone else. I suppose you have some suggestions. Karkaroff perhaps, he was a potion master. I've heard Lucius Malfoy was adept at the subject at school."

He studied the dirt on the toe of his shoe, "I... sorry."

"Ron doesn't mean anything, 'Mione," Harry interrupted. "We really are happy for you. It's just... It's Snape."

"I know that. I'm really excited about this, Harry. I think it will be good for me."

Harry nodded and sat beside her, draping an arm around her shoulders. "Then we're excited for you, right Ron?"

The red-head moved and sat on her other side. "Yeah, we are," he said in a slightly discouraged voice. "Anyway," he added, "we're gonna learn all sorts of new curses, and if he's a bastard, you can call us and we'll come try them out."

Both shook their heads at Ron's easy answer.

"I don't know what I'd do without you two." She leaned her head on each of their shoulders.

"You would have been smashed by a troll first year." Harry reminded.

The trio spent their last night in the common room reminiscing and laughing about the happy memories they had made late into the night.

They next day they all boarded the Hogwarts Express for the last time. Each one watched the majestic castle become a tiny speck on the horizon and they were filled with nostalgia.

Most of the new graduates spent the ride to London reminiscing and telling stories to the junior students. All through the train, stories could be heard. Stories of Gilderoy Lockhart's fiasco of a dueling club and the tri-wizard tournament. Of Remus Lupin's amazing defense lessons and Draco Malfoy being transfigured into a ferret. They bragged about being early testers for Weasleys' Wizarding Wheezes, meeting Viktor Krum, or being part of Dumbledore's Army. The ride ended all too soon and with a final blast of the train whistle, they each stepped onto the platform and off to their new lives.

Hermione visited her family and told them the news. Her parents were thrilled as always with her academic achievements, though they had hoped to have her home a bit longer.

Over the weekend, Harry insisted on going shopping with her for supplies.

"So, why is it Ron didn't want to come?" She minimized the package she carried out of Scribbulus's Ever-changing Inks and slipped it in her pocket.

"It wasn't so much that he didn't want to come." He dug in the bag he had from the candy store and handed Hermione a chocolate frog before opening one himself. "It was more like his mum told him he had to go with them and Ginny to visit Charlie in Romania before he left for school."

"Well, that explains it. He wanted to go play with dragons."

"So, what do we need next?"

She studied the list. "First we need to go to Cadpot's Cauldrons then to Slug and Jiggers for ingredients."

Harry picked the list out of her hands and read down the list of potion ingredients. "These first few look familiar."

"Yes, the list begins with the ingredients of the Polyjuice potion."

Harry laughed. "Well, can't say he doesn't have a sense of humor."

"I doubt it was intentional."

"Yeah, right, 'Mione. You keep thinking that." He pulled open the door and let her pass.

"You really think he knows I stole those ingredients?" She took her list back and looked for the prescribed cauldrons.

"I'd bet my Firebolt on it."

"Then why do you think he never punished me?" She put the basket of cauldrons on the counter and the witch checked her out.

"He probably figured you turning yourself into a cat was a better punishment than even he could have come up with."

"I'll never live that down, will I?"

"No, but if it makes you feel better, I'll buy you some dinner."

"I suppose." Hermione turned and left him in front of the quidditch store as she went to the apothecary.

When she returned, he had gone inside and was drooling over the newest Firebolt model. He noticed her and quickly left the store.

"So, where do you want to eat? Leaky Cauldron?"

"Sounds fine."

They made there way back through the crowd to the tavern at the end of the alley. Tom greeted them warmly, but Harry asked if they could eat in the one of the parlor rooms rather than the dining room. The innkeeper was quick to accommodate and they soon found themselves in a private room with a table full of steaming food.

"Why?" she asked him, looking over the table.

"Because I'm tired of being stared at," he answered, tossing a piece of bread back down on his plate. "It was bad enough before, but now... I hate this. Everyone wants something. Everyone wants me to bare my soul."

"They just want to know what happened, Harry. You did do an amazing thing. And you've never been willing to tell anyone about it."

"I know, and I did tell someone. I told Dumbledore. And he said it was up to me if I wanted to tell anyone else. I just... I can't. I still can't."

"It's ok," she said calmly, "you don't have to explain to me. I know you'll tell me everything when you're ready."

"You really are my best friend, 'Mione." He stood and walked to her, pulling her into a strong embrace.

"Sit down and eat your dinner, Harry." She pulled away and gave him a small push toward his seat. He grinned, resumed his seat, and continued eating.

They finished their dinner in companionable silence. Hermione took her coffee cup and moved to sit on the sofa before the massive hearth. After a few moments, Harry joined her.

"You know," she began tentatively, "I thought of something a bit ago. I'm only going to say this once." She took a deep breath. "Before this year you hated being famous because you said you had never done anything to deserve all the attention. You were only famous for not dying. Well, Harry, now you've done something worth being famous for. And you still resent all the attention."

He was silent for several long moments, mulling over her words, staring into the crackling fire. "You're right." He sighed. "Of course you're right. I suppose at least now I'll get a famous witches and wizards card. Couldn't get one of those for being The-Boy-Who-Lived."

"It was just an observation."

"I know, and you're right. It's just something I don't want to deal with for a while."

"I'm not bringing it up again.

"Okay." He stared into his mug and then looked back up at her. "On another note, I think you broke Ron."

Hermione let out an exasperated sigh. "He's not still on about me staying at Hogwarts, is he?"

"It's not so much where as who. He's worried about you."

"Are you worried about me?"

"I know you can take care of yourself. Besides, with me gone, I doubt he'll be as terrible."

"You can't blame yourself because he had issues with everyone that wasn't Malfoy."

"You've been telling me that for a year." He stifled a yawn. "It's getting late, we should go."

"Yeah." She sat up and stretched. "Where are you staying while the Weasleys are gone?"

"Sirius' old place. He left it to me. I've been going through some of his old things." Harry stood and took her cup, walking around and placing them on the table.

"How's it going?" She fell into step beside him leaving the room.

"Not as bad as I though it would be." He left her a moment, stepping up to the bar and paying Tom for the dinner. When he returned he took Hermione's arm and they stepped out onto Charring Cross road. "You know, I don't know what I'm going to do without you telling me to do my work."

"I'm sure you'll survive." She pulled him off the street into a small alley. "This is where I've got to go."

"Are you going to come see us off Monday?" he asked hopefully.

"Where do I need to be?"

"Kings Cross, Platform three and two thirds. The train leaves at ten."

"I'll be there."

Harry pulled her into a warm hug. "I hope you're right about everything, 'Mione."

She pulled away smiling and with a small wave and a pop was gone.

On Monday, Hermione met her best friends at the train station as they left for their training. She kissed them both good-bye, and they made her promise to write and tell them if Snape was too horrible to her. After promising she would, she waved to them as the engine steamed away. A sting of sadness hit her as she watched the train disappear from the station.

When Wednesday morning finally came, Hermione apparated to Hogsmead and, after picking up a few last minute items, began the final leg of the journey along the worn path to the Hogwarts.