Ordinary People

Things as they might be---

The man turned from the High Table to look curiously at Hermione. "Why, yes," he replied, clearly startled. "Yes, I am. How did you know?"

She grinned. "My name is Hermione Granger, you see."

"Oh," he said. And his eyes widened. "Oh! But you're just ..."

"A student," she finished for him, nodding once.

Cocking his head, Edoras Griffiths examined her more closely. "You're H.G.," he said dubiously. "I confess I find that hard to believe. I had envisioned someone, well, to be frank, older."

"Probably male as well," Hermione said, smirking a little. "But I can assure you, Mr. Griffiths--Edoras, we've been corresponding for the better part of two years. I received your owl this morning. I confess I haven't written a reply yet. Come to think of it," she said, curious, "why are you here?"

"A fair question," Dumbledore said irritably from the High Table. "And one I think many of us would like to hear the answer to. Edoras, would you like to join in our supper?"

Griffiths smiled and shook his head. "I'm afraid I can't stay long, Headmaster. I just came up to have a quick word with H.G.--with Miss Granger, it appears."

"At least have a cup of tea, then," he replied in a tone that suggested it would be best to comply.

"That would be nice," Griffiths conceded, walking over to the Gryffindor table and sitting down beside Hermione, eliciting a raised eyebrow from the headmaster, who immediately came walking over and seated himself across from the pair.

"If I recall correctly, Edoras, you were a Ravenclaw," he said with a wry smile.

"Ah, yes, but my brother was a Gryffindor," Edoras said smoothly. "So I found myself at this table rather often through the years. Miss Granger," he continued, turning to a still rather confused Hermione, "how are you doing?"

"I'm fine," she replied, mystified. "And it's Hermione, by the way."

"Hermione, then," he agreed, taking a sip from a cup of tea the headmaster had just placed in front of him and sighing contentedly. "From what I understand," he said conversationally, "your latest work has been received rather well."

She hummed into her goblet of juice. "Yes, actually," she replied. "To be honest, I was rather surprised at the lack of backlash."

"Your proofs were wonderfully rigorous, my dear," Griffiths said, taking a longer draught. "And elegant as well, I rather thought."

Grinning, Hermione resisted the urge to wink up at Severus, still sitting at the High Table and looking torn between confusion and anger. "I'm afraid I can't take all the credit for that," she said smoothly. "My collaborator is a very thorough sort and insisted on poking holes at every turn."

"Oh, yes," he replied. "The other one. Is he or she a student as well? I don't know if we're ready for a pair of precocious adolescents running roughshod over the entire community."

With a little snort, Hermione tried to picture Severus in that light and failed miserably. "No," she said. "No, he's not a student."

"I'd love to meet him, if he's here, of course," Griffiths said. "I suppose I ought to speak with him as well."

Throughout their conversation, Dumbledore watched them both carefully, eyes narrowing slightly. "I'm not going to be surprised by this, am I?" he asked Hermione.

"Probably not," she agreed. "Actually, Edoras, Severus is sitting up there beside Harry Potter."

Blinking, he looked up at the High Table, focusing on a startled Severus and grinning widely. "Wonderful," he said. "Perhaps he wouldn't mind ..."

Hermione was delighted as Dumbledore's face registered the fact that he couldn't refuse Edoras' request without being rude. "Why certainly," he said pleasantly, standing up and giving Severus a pointed look. "Professor Snape, would you join us for a few moments?"

The hall fell rather silent again as Severus slowly stood and made his way over to the table. Hermione thought she heard him sigh, "Gryffindors, of course," as he sat down in between Dumbledore and a smirking Ron Weasley. "What do you want, Albus?" he asked briskly.

"Mr. Griffiths here would like you to join in his cryptic little conversation with Miss Granger," Dumbledore answered. "I personally would like a very thorough explanation as to what is going on here."

Edoras' eyebrows rose. "He doesn't know?" he asked Hermione, clearly delighted. "Oh, that is a fine trick, Miss--Hermione. How did you manage it?"

"There have been other rather pressing concerns," she said.

"Ah, yes. That Dark Lord business," Edoras said. "Rather nasty, that. But from what I've heard, your Harry Potter up there has taken care of it quite nicely."

"You could say that," she replied with a slight smile.

"Well, then, Headmaster," he said, turning to an increasingly baffled Dumbledore, "allow me to illuminate you. Miss Gr--Hermione here is perhaps the finest mind in the wizarding world to date."

Dumbledore blinked once and breathed in sharply. "What?"

"She's been publishing papers in various journals for the past two years," Edoras told him with a grin. "Some rather brilliant work on Magical Field Theory to start out with that I admit I don't even fully understand, but lately she, and apparently your Professor Snape here," he continued with a nod at Severus. "They've managed to determine the origins of magical energy manifesting within an individual. It's fascinating work, really, and quite possibly the most important discovery since the first use of wands."

Mouth hanging open in an uncharacteristic gesture, Dumbledore was clearly flummoxed. "You mean this has nothing to do with your ... ritual? With Voldemort?" he asked Hermione.

"What ritual?" Edoras asked, perking up with interest. "What about You-Know-Who?"

"Oh, just something I dug out of an old book," she said with a flap of her hand. "Nothing important, really." Nervous, she met Severus' gaze and read the anxiety in his eyes.

"You don't read the Daily Prophet, do you, sir?" Ron asked from across the table, smirking at Hermione. She longed to smack him.

Edoras looked startled. "Of course not," he replied, distaste evident in his voice. "It's ignorant rubbish."

"Only Hermione was there the night You-Know-Who was defeated," Ron continued, smirk widening. Severus growled warningly, but Ron managed to ignore it successfully. "She helped Harry."

"You did?" Edoras asked, turning back to Hermione with shock written on his features. "How remarkable."

"And apparently beside the point," Dumbledore said, looking at first Hermione and then Severus with new interest dawning in his eyes. "When has all of this been going on?"

"Nights, of course," Severus told the tabletop. "We've got a lab set up on the fourth floor. Not much as far as labs go, but it has served its purpose."

"And you, Miss Granger," he continued slowly, choosing his words carefully, "I would have thought that your devotion to your coursework would have made this a particularly complicated pastime."

Surprisingly, it was Severus who answered. "Really, Albus," he said with a dry chuckle, "you've just been told that she's brilliant, and you think she still has to worry about her schoolwork? She probably worked her way through the entire Hogwarts curriculum before she even sat her OWLs." Hermione inwardly laughed at the startled look on Ron's face as Severus offered her a warm smile.

"Forgive me if I am dubious, Severus," Dumbledore said.

Edoras laughed shortly, draining his teacup and setting it aside. "I'd no idea that our new theory wunderkind was still a student. How old are you, anyway, Hermione?"

To her credit, she only rolled her eyes slightly. "I'm seventeen," she said. "I've just finished up my NEWTs last week."

"Oh, good," he replied. "I'd hate to think I'd offered a job to someone who couldn't take it because she hadn't finished school yet. You have, of course, had time to consider my offer?"

"A job," the headmaster echoed fairly incredulously. Hermione almost forgave him for it--he had just found out, after all.

"Standard offer, really," Edoras told him. "We're always in need of good editors. I'm afraid the pay is not very high, but that's academia for you."

Dumbledore turned to regard a reactionless Severus with suspicion. "You don't seem as surprised at this recent development as I might have expected," he commented.

"I received a message somewhat to this effect myself," Severus replied dryly, eyes flicking briefly to Hermione's face.

"I'd love to work for you, Edoras," Hermione said hastily, giving him her brightest smile. "In fact, I was planning to owl you tonight, after supper. Although I don't see why you needed to come all the way up to Hogwarts just to repeat your offer in person," she said doubtfully.

Edoras fairly beamed. "Actually, Hermione, I needed to talk to you in regards to a certain correspondence you sent me a few weeks ago. I was so excited that I just had to tell you in person."

"A few weeks ago?" she asked, trying to remember. So much had happened recently that Hermione was hard-pressed to recall anything from before much more than a week ago.

"You'd sent me that unfortunate note explaining your financial difficulties regarding your research," he explained upon seeing her confusion.

"Oh, yes," she replied. "Now I remember."

Severus gave her a questioning look, but she ignored it as Edoras continued. "It's most exciting, Miss Granger. As soon as I could, I began making a few inquiries on your behalf, you see, and today I just received the final word. A private, anonymous donor has come forward offering to fund your research fully!" he cried.

With a highly undignified, very girlish squeal more properly belonging to the likes of Parvati Patil, Hermione threw her arms around a startled Edoras' neck and gave him a quick hug. Immediately, the hall fell silent again as all eyes swiveled toward the Gryffindor table. Severus snorted and Ron laughed outright as she released Edoras and blushed deeply upon realizing what she'd just done. "Brilliant!" she said, attempting to recover her dignity.

"Yes, and you can resume your efforts immediately," Edoras said. "We're all very interested to see what you come up with."

"Oh, Severus!" Hermione said, forgetting her surroundings. "We can start adapting one of those cameras Muggles can insert into the bloodstream. Oh, what are they called ...?"

"I have no idea," he replied. "But I think they involve radioactive injections as well. You'll enjoy that, I think. There are lots of needles involved."

Wrinkling her nose at him, she rolled her eyes. "Maybe I'll need a few marrow samples. I hear that's an awfully painful procedure," she threatened.

"All I ask is that we obtain an electron microscope," he said with a smile. "Feel free to poke and prod 'til your heart's content, Hermione."

Coughing to catch their attention, Dumbledore fixed Severus with a curious look. "We?" he asked.

Severus glanced around the Great Hall, filled to the brim with eagerly listening students and professors alike. "Would you like to continue this conversation in private, Albus?" he inquired quietly.

Eyebrows raised, he folded his hands complacently on the tabletop. "I don't see why," Dumbledore answered.

Hermione was only partially surprised as Severus began to speak. "Albus," he said. "I've never made a secret of the fact that I dislike my job. It's tedious and repetitive, but at your insistence, I've continued, telling myself that it's somehow for my own good and that in some miniscule way I'm contributing something to the lives of my students." He permitted himself a small snort at that. "But recent events ... well, suffice to say I've been forced to reconsider my role here. Damn it, Albus!" he cried, frustration finally showing. "You've been all but tucking me into bed these past few days, treating me as if I'm your wayward son who doesn't know any better."

The hall was so quiet you could hear a pin drop on the opposite end. Hermione saw Harry's round eyes fixed on Severus' face, a surprising amount of compassion showing in his expression.

"I see," Dumbledore said softly into the silence.

"I can't do this any more, Albus," he said heavily. "I'm not going to let you do this to me any more. I quit. Effective immediately."

And without a backward glance, he stood and walked out of the hall. Immediately upon his exit, a veritable cacophony arose as everyone began chattering at once. Swiftly, Dumbledore stood and followed Severus.

Apologetically, Hermione turned to a rather stunned looking Edoras. "I'm sorry," she said. "You've walked into a bit of a mess."

"So I gather," he replied, stroking his beard agitatedly.

"May we meet with you tomorrow concerning our research?" she asked, rising herself. "At your offices, of course."

"I thought the Hogwarts Express didn't leave until tomorrow morning," Edoras said.

"Oh, I think it might be best if both Severus and I left tonight," she replied vaguely. "Tomorrow, then?"

"All right," he said.

"Good night, then, Edoras," Hermione told him with a distant smile. "It was very nice to meet you."

"Likewise, Hermione." He kept his eyes on her as she exited the Great Hall.

----------

He found his quarters mysteriously unlocked, the suit of armor marking the entrance fading as obediently as ever. Not questioning it, Severus packed up his possessions quickly and efficiently, reflecting with a fair amount of self-mockery that he actually had relatively little to take.

The furniture and all of its trappings belonged to Hogwarts, of course. Severus had no real attachment to any of it, besides. His clothing was sparse and he had very few personal mementos, as it were. Most of his potions supplies even belonged to Hogwarts, purchased on the teachers' account. A few of the nicer cauldrons (including a smaller silver one that had been a gift from his father upon his leaving Hogwarts as a student) and a handful of the more rare ingredients belonged to his personal store, but otherwise Severus left his office much as he'd found it as a first-year teacher, taking a childish sort of delight in putting up the most impenetrable wards he could think of on his exam archive.

All in all, Severus had little more than a mere trunkful of belongings to mark his entire life. He was wondering what to do with the rather large piles of books scattered about his already full trunk when he heard someone clearing a throat in the doorway.

Dumbledore looked tired and faded. His usually powerful aura of calm was completely shattered, and his face was worried as he gazed down at Severus. "I can have someone bring you another trunk, if you need it," he offered quietly.

"No, thank you," Severus replied tightly. He wasn't going to take another thing from Dumbledore ever, if he could help it.

"Severus," Dumbledore said in that same quiet voice. "I've hurt you, haven't I?"

He laughed bitterly. "You might say that."

"I'd no idea ..." he trailed off.

"Obviously," Severus said. "But you didn't want to, Albus. You preferred to draw your own conclusions. On everything."

"I just thought--"

"Albus, have you ever trusted me?" he interrupted, jabbing his wand at the air fiercely, shrinking the books into a more manageable pile.

"Severus ..." he protested, pained. "Of course."

"No, Albus, I don't think you have. Don't misunderstand me," he said, scooping up double handfuls of miniature books and dropping them into his trunk. "I am well aware of the fact that I have violated a significant number of your rules as of late, and I am probably quite undeserving of your trust, but," he said wistfully. "But it would have been nice to think that I had it regardless."

Dumbledore's discomfort increased, and he shifted uneasily in the doorway. "Severus, I am headmaster of this school, and I cannot let certain actions go unpunished."

"Of course not," he agreed mildly. "But even before that, Albus, you made it very clear that you do not trust my judgment. Draco Malfoy deliberately and willfully sent Potter to his death almost one week ago. I know it as I live and breath, Albus. And I think, on some level, you do, too. Yet he sits comfortably at the supper table, laughing about it with his friends, I'm sure." Severus rejoiced in the slamming noise as he shut his trunk and locked it.

"Draco Malfoy is a child, Severus. He's not fully responsible for his actions and may very well come to repent of them. Would you wish me to turn him away in such a case?" he asked pointedly.

With a sigh, Severus shrank his trunk with a wand flick and pocketed it. "I am not going to argue this point with you, Albus. And I am no longer under your employ, besides. You can do whatever you wish with Malfoy. He is not under my control any more, if he ever was." He made as if to walk past Dumbledore and out the door.

"Severus ..." he tried one last time, calling down the dungeon corridor after him.

"What?" Turning around, Severus regarded Dumbledore dispassionately.

"I cannot express to you how sorry I am for all of this," he said wretchedly. "For everything."

He continued to stare at him for a long moment. "Good," he finally said, turning to walk up the stairs and leaving Dumbledore behind.

----------

"What?" Hermione called irritably at the brisk knock on her door.

"Miss Granger," McGonagall said, poking her head around the door. "What are you doing?"

Looking down at her hands full of clothing, Hermione shook her head slightly. "Clearly, I'm packing," she replied. "I have every intention of leaving here tonight."

With a frown, McGonagall came fully into the room, practically radiating disapproval. "Nonsense," she said. "The train leaves tomorrow morning at nine. Surely you can wait another night."

"I could," she said by way of agreement as she shoved the last of her clothing into her trunk. "But I'm not going to."

"You're being ridiculous, girl," she scolded.

"Probably," she said complacently. Her books were next, followed by her few remaining school supplies. Idly, she put Unbreakable Charms on her inkpots.

"What do you think you're going to prove?"

Shrugging, Hermione started trying to fit a few rolls of parchment into her already-full trunk. "I'm not trying to prove anything, Professor. I just don't want to be here any more."

"Miss Granger," McGonagall began in a more or less even tone, "everything we've done has been to protect you."

"From what?" she asked absently, lowering the lid carefully and clamoring on top of the trunk so that she could successfully latch it. "Oh, that's right," she said sarcastically. "You're under the impression that Severus--Professor Snape, I mean--has used me for his nefarious purposes and manipulated me in ways that I cannot even conceive of. Because he couldn't possibly be human enough to care about me. I am, after all, only an annoying little know-it-all student."

She sighed heavily. "Hermione ..."

"Did you ever stop to consider, Professor, that perhaps I love him?" she asked. "Or is that too far-fetched for some reason?"

"No one wanted to hurt you, child," she said.

She shrank her locked trunk and tucked it away in a robe pocket. "Oddly," she told her professor, "that's not as helpful as you might think. Good-bye, Professor McGonagall."

Narrowing her eyes, McGonagall continued to study her for a few minutes, but Hermione stood her ground, clearly expecting her professor to leave the room first. With a loud huff, McGonagall stormed out, robes swirling in a fashion that reminded Hermione unexpectedly of Severus.

After a few moments, she deemed it safe to leave herself and made her way down the dormitory stairs. As it was, she didn't actually see Harry or Ron standing in front of the stairwell until she'd nearly run into them.

"So, you're leaving, then," Ron said without preamble.

"I'm leaving," she agreed, expressionless.

"It would have been nice to ride the train back home together," he replied, "but I guess I understand."

"This is good-bye, I guess," Harry said, gazing at her sorrowfully.

With a sigh, Hermione punched his shoulder. "It's not as if I'll never see you again, Harry," she said, exasperated. "In fact, I'm sure we'll have luncheon or something next week. Unless, that is, you're planning on dropping off the face of the Earth?"

"Oh, no," he told her, managing a small smile, "we've got NEWT scores to agonize over. Ron and I don't have jobs like you do, apparently. Our acceptance into the Aurory is strictly dependent on our final marks. You've got to console us, you know."

"And Neville, too, I expect," Ron said. "He's applied as well. Ginny's all excited. Apparently having an Auror for a boyfriend is a thrilling prospect. Maybe there's hope for our Harry yet."

Grinning, Harry cuffed the back of Ron's head cheerfully. "You great prat," he cried.

Looking back and forth between her friends, Hermione was suddenly holding back tears. "I'm going to miss this," she confessed.

"What?" Harry asked, looking up from their scuffle.

"This," she replied, waving her hand at them. "You two, me, just, you know ..."

Ron smiled at her widely. "Aw, don't worry, Hermione. We'll make sure to show up totally unannounced at your and your darlingest Sevvie's doorstep every now and again, just to insult each other and berate Harry for being short."

"What did you just say, Weasley?" a deep voice asked incredulously from the portrait hole.

The trio turned around to regard an unbelieving Severus standing right beside the entrance to the Common Room. Immediately covered in a deep blush, Ron's mouth fell open. Harry's grin widened into an evil smirk and even Hermione could not contain her sudden mirth. "I told you not to call him that," she said, clearly amused.

"I don't think I ever will again," Ron muttered, eliciting a sharp bark of laughter from Severus. Both boys jumped at the sound.

Choosing to ignore them, Severus looked at her with a quirked eyebrow. "Are you ready?" he asked.

"Nearly," she replied. Turning back to Ron and Harry, she felt herself tearing up again and tried rather unsuccessfully to control it. "So I'll see you both later, then," she said, her air of affected nonchalance ruined with a sniffle.

"Yeah," Ron said, looking rather watery-eyed himself all of a sudden. "And you'll have to come to the Burrow for supper some time, you know." Giving her an awkward one-armed hug, he hovered by her side, as if unwilling to let her go.

"I'll send Hedwig by with a note as soon as we get back," Harry told her, throwing his arms around her waist and resting his chin familiarly on her shoulder.

"Now go on and give those quantum blood whatsits hell, love," Ron cried, prodding her in the back.

Laughing through her few tears, Hermione walked over to Severus, who was lingering rather awkwardly beside the portrait hole. "If you say anything about overly sentimental Gryffindors, I swear I'll hex you," she threatened.

He looped an arm around her waist casually and gave her a playful smirk. "I wouldn't dream of it," he replied airily.

She was fairly certain she heard either Ron or Harry snort as she and Severus climbed through the portrait hole.

----------

"Why did you come up to Gryffindor Tower?" she asked him curiously once they were on the other side of the Fat Lady.

Severus shrugged. "Why not? Although I confess I had a fair amount of difficulty convincing your portrait to let me in."

With a little giggle, Hermione nodded. "Yes, the Fat Lady does tend to be a bit of a gossip. I'm sure she was one of the first to hear about ... well, everything, I suppose."

"That certainly explains the dirty looks she kept giving me," he replied.

They continued through the hallways mostly in silence, her arm bumping comfortingly into his every so often. Severus hadn't realized quite how much he'd missed her simple presence, really, until he was able to see her again. The mere fact that she was walking beside him made him feel confident about their latest mad venture.

"I think I know a commercial firm that might be willing to take me on as a brewer," he said thoughtfully into the quiet. "We won't be rich, you know."

"I don't care, Severus," she told him with a smile. "As long as it's 'we,' I figure we'll manage to muddle through."

Uncaring of who saw them, Severus stopped walking and wrapped a hand around her upper arm. "I love you," he mumbled, pulling her into a brief kiss and grinning rather foolishly at her seemingly pleased reaction.

"Good," she told him, returning his kiss with one of her own. "I'd hate to think I was in this alone." They resumed their short journey once more.

Not fifteen seconds later, Flitwick passed them in the hall, walking in the opposite direction. Apparently flustered, he picked up his pace and continued past them without a word.

All of a sudden, Hermione tugged on his arm, picking up her own pace. "Come on, Severus," she said. "I don't want to be here any longer than I have to."

"What about your side?" he asked worriedly. "I thought you weren't supposed to--"

"Oh," she cut him off with a wave of her hand and a cheeky look. "Madam Pomfrey closed it up with magic this afternoon. She said she wasn't going to let me run myself into gangrene by letting it heal on its own."

"Gangrene?" he echoed, immediately concerned.

She rolled her eyes. "Apparently I am an appalling patient. Hurry up--we're almost at the entrance."

The large doors were looming in Severus' vision before he could blink. He'd spent the better part of his life living within these walls and now he was leaving forever. If he'd been more of a sentimental sort, he might have felt a bit maudlin at that.

But then he looked down at Hermione, and she squeezed his hand gently, giving him a warm, loving sort of look. In the end, Severus just pushed the door open, letting her walk out in front of him and closed it carefully behind them. "I feel like we ought to be riding off into the sunset or something," he admitted. "Although we are sadly lacking both a horse and a sunset."

"Are you absolutely sure you don't read those novels you confiscate from the girls?" she asked playfully.

She fell quiet nicely when he kissed her. Of course, that bit was probably in those awful novels as well.

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FINIS