Every Little Thing She Does Is Magic

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Part One: In the Eyes of the Beholder

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Hermione Granger, Hogwarts' Professor. It just didn't seem quite real. She sighed and glanced at her reflection. Is this what a Hogwarts' Professor looks like? she wondered, knowing that it didn't really work like that. It didn't matter what she looked like. Each of her Professors was unique, there was no one way to look; nothing that branded you a teacher. The truth was, there was no definition of a Hogwarts' Professor, and yet she still felt the need for a change.

The last thing she needed was for everyone to associate her with the bushy-haired bookworm they had known for the last six years. She needed for the Professors to treat her with respect as a colleague, and the students to respect her as a member of staff. She just knew that it was the latter that would be the harder part.

Oh, my God, I'm going to be a teacher!

Part of her still didn't want to believe it, despite the fact that she had spent the last two years preparing for and working toward it. Two years. She had been lying to her best friends for two years. She had been lying ever since the end of her fifth year. It may have only been a year for them, but it was two for her.

Wracked with guilt, Hermione sat down on her bed. She had wanted to tell them from the start, but Professor Dumbledore had sworn her to secrecy. The only people who knew were Professors Dumbledore and McGonagall and the relevant people at the Ministry of Magic who had found out that summer when she had applied and passed her exams. But she hated it.

She knew that it was best that no one knew, but she just hated that Ron and Harry would feel so betrayed. They had pleaded with her constantly throughout their sixth year to ease up, to stop studying so much. Ron knew that she had spent most of her summer studying furiously and he couldn't understand why she still had so much to learn. Everyone knew that Hermione Granger was the bookworm that would learn anything she could get her hands on, but he was at a loss to understand why she was killing herself for schoolwork she should have learned over the summer. And how could she explain that she had until June to complete her sixth and seventh year, and until August to get her teaching degree, when it was meant to be a secret?

Hermione sighed again and glanced at the pieces of parchment on her desk. She walked across the room, and picked them up, smiling in spite of her guilt. The top piece was her Hogwarts Graduation paper and the second her teaching qualification. She had spent the last year, plus all of her summer working toward it, although the time turner had prolonged her study by over a year. A year. She was a year older than her friends were, in fact two, if she included her third year with the time turner, and they didn't even know it. Not only that, but she was a teacher, a qualified teacher.

Turning to the last piece of parchment in her hand, Hermione grinned, her eyes scanning the already memorised text. Dumbledore's elegant hand seemed to make it more real than her certificate, as she re-read the letter again.

Dear Miss Granger,

Having received a copy of your teaching qualifications, I would like now to formally request that which we have previously discussed in person. I would like to officially offer you the position of Professor of Arithmancy at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, starting on the 24^th August.

In anticipation of your acceptance, with respect to our previous discussions, I have enclosed your class schedule for the year ahead, and would like to request you submit your lesson plans as soon as possible.

Welcome to Hogwarts, Professor Granger. I look forward to working with you.

Yours Sincerely,

Albus Dumbledore

She placed the pieces of parchment back on her desk, knowing her own sentimentality would have her taking them to Hogwarts, and also knowing that it would help to have them there. Just in case she ever felt the need to reassure herself that it was not, in fact, a dream. Still smiling to herself, Hermione turned to the mirror once more, deciding that she was definitely in the mood for a change.

With her decision made, she left her room and headed down the stairway to her kitchen, hoping that her Aunt Linda was not present. She had heard the woman leaving earlier, but that certainly didn't mean she was gone. While she wished she could call her Aunt Linda a sneaky old bat because she did, in fact, like to sneak up on Hermione when she least expected it, the truth was that Hermione liked her aunt. Besides that, she was not in the slightest bit old. However, Hermione did want to be alone for her trip. Although her aunt understood that she was a witch, and, in fact, loved to hear all about the Wizarding world, Linda was surprised rather easily, and a trip to Diagon Alley may well have given the poor woman a heart attack.

Hermione glanced at the photo in the hallway as she picked up her car keys and her purse from the cabinet below them. She was glad she had persuaded her parents to get a family photograph taken with a Wizarding camera; the photo had been one of the things that had saved her sanity during her grieving. She had never stopped grieving, not really, and she doubted she ever would, but it got easier. Although they were no longer in her life physically, but her parents would always be in her heart.

She headed to the doorway, picking up her brown suede jacket from the coat stand, and went outside, making sure to lock the doors. She surreptitiously pulled out her wand and made sure that the newly placed wards were holding firmly, before walking to her car.

After her parents had been attacked everyone had been fretting about Hermione's safety and, no matter what she had wanted, they wouldn't leave her alone. Someone had been with her twenty-four hours a day until she had finally snapped and run off. Not the smartest thing she had ever done, she conceded, but she had made her point, and the following week she was back home with her aunt and her new protective wards, put in place by Albus Dumbledore himself.

Good thing, too,

Hermione thought as she pulled out of the driveway. Had anyone actually made it into my house, I might have let my anger get the better of me, in which case, I'd either be dead or in Azkaban. Plus, I needed to be safe in my mind, or I'd never have got all that work done. Thank God Dumbledore decided to give me the chance to do this. I needed the distraction.

Twenty minutes later, Hermione had pulled into the train station and made her way to the Apparation point. It wasn't that she couldn't have done it from home, but if her aunt saw that the car was gone, she wouldn't ask any questions, she'd just assume her niece had been at the library rather than somewhere magical. Linda loved to ask questions, it was where Hermione got the rather irritating habit.

"Hermione!"

She swivelled round and grinned as Professor McGonagall approached her, looking rather out of place in her purple cloak. "Trying to fit in, I see, Professor," Hermione said with a smirk.

"I do my best," the elder woman replied with a smile. "How are you?"

"I'm all right," Hermione said honestly. "I have good days and bad, but I'm all right. Visiting Remus?"

"Yes," McGonagall replied, falling into step beside her as she resumed her walk to the Apparation point. "He's having issues with the Muggle world, but you know Remus, he's so soft that he's willing to get walked all over no matter where he is."

"Professor!"

"Oh, lighten up, Hermione," McGonagall said with a twinkle in her eyes. "And for the last time call me Minerva. We're going to be working together, after all."

"I'll see what I can do," she said with a small chuckle.

It had taken Hermione quite by surprise to discover that her straight (hyphen) laced House Head had a wicked sense of humour and a penchant for causing as much strife as Fred and George Weasley put together. At first she hadn't known quite what to make of it. Her Professor had tutored her with her Apparation practical and Hermione had found herself stunned when she ended up in a brothel in Amsterdam. She had been sure the error was hers, and not the co-ordinates she had been given, therefore she had not mentioned it. It took finding herself in a pig's barn in Ohio, an iceberg at the North Pole, and arriving on the lap of a stripper before Hermione confronted the woman. Her teacher had found it hysterical and had never let her live it down. Looking back, though, Hermione couldn't figure out how she had missed the gleam in McGonagall's eyes every time she prepared to leave, or the knowing twinkle when she returned.

"Where are you headed?" McGonagall asked, breaking her reverie.

"Diagon Alley. I decided to pick up a few new things for the school year, and some new robes would be a good idea as well. The only ones I really have are my dress robes and my school robes. Plus," she added with a grin, "I decided to go for the makeover I've always wanted."

"Makeover?"

"Care to join me, Minerva?" she asked, trying out the name. It felt strange, but in a good way. She felt trusted as both an adult and possibly even a friend.

"Are you implying I need one, Miss Granger?"

For a moment, Hermione's heart stopped, but she noticed the look in McGonagall's eyes and shook her head. "Nice try, but you know what I mean. I'm not falling for it."

"Damn," Minerva said with a smirk. "Guess I'm back to baiting Sybill and Seriya."

Hermione laughed and opened the door to the small room, nodding to the witch guarding the reception area. She walked through the wards with no problem, knowing that they only scanned for Muggles, just in case someone happened to go through the door in spite of the deflection charms. It never hurt to be too careful, especially with Voldemort's recent attacks on Muggle households.

"Meet you in The Leaky Cauldron?"

"Yes." Hermione nodded and Apparated a few moments later.

She reappeared at the far end of the pub, instantly spotting McGonagall and wondering how on earth the woman had managed to get there before her and order the drink she was consuming at an alarming rate. Part of her felt she should be appalled by the behaviour of the woman she respected the most out of anyone she knew, but the rest of her was far too amused. All the same, she had to keep reminding herself that her teachers were people. She especially wanted to remind herself of that since she would be their colleague in less than a week.

"What took you so long, Hermione?" Minerva said with a wink, leaving her empty glass on the bar.

Hermione shook her head and rolled her eyes as they approached the wall separating them from Diagon Alley. She pulled out her wand and tapped the sequence of bricks, inhaling deeply when the bustle of the Wizarding World appeared before them. She had missed it. She had missed the magic of it all, and not just the actual magic, she missed the whole sense of wonder that came with the world itself. Being Muggle(hyphen)born definitely had its advantages, as far as she was concerned. No matter how much the Wizarding world was everyday to her, it still held her captive with the fascination of a small child.

They made their way quickly to the bank, and Hermione withdrew a large sum of money that she had converted on receiving the contents of her parents' wills. She hoped that she wouldn't spend anywhere near the amount she took. They were quick to leave the dismal building and enter the bright sunshine once more. It wasn't often that the country was graced with good weather at that time of year, and they both wanted to take advantage of it for as long as possible.

"Where to first?"

"I don't know," Hermione said with a frown, following Minerva into the street. "I think I'd like to get the everyday things done first. So I think Madam Malkin's and then on to Flourish and Blotts. I need some new potions ingredients as well."

"Whatever for?" Minerva frowned at her. "If you need anything, just steal it from Severus."

For a moment, Hermione thought her old House Head knew of her past indiscretion in that regard, but the look on the woman's face told Hermione all she needed to know. "You steal from Snape?" she asked incredulously.

"You're not above that yourself, young lady, so I don't know why you look so horrified."

"You knew?"

Minerva laughed. "Of course I knew, Hermione, I'm not stupid. We all knew, we just couldn't prove it. Besides, Dumbledore assured us he had the utmost confidence in whatever you three were doing with them." She frowned and then gave Hermione a slow smile, causing the younger girl to take a step away.

"What?" Hermione asked warily.

"I have to be honest, I've always wanted to know. What on earth did you do with them?"

Hermione laughed. "We made some Polyjuice Potion and snuck into the Slytherin Common Room to see if we could get Malfoy to confess that he was the Heir of Slytherin."

"You what?"

For a brief moment, Hermione was sure that she was about to be reprimanded. Where there was little that McGonagall could do to her, she hoped she hadn't got Ron and Harry into trouble. Thankfully, she had misread the Professor again.

"You were only in second year, how on earth did you manage to make such a complex potion? Most students can't prepare a proper Polyjuice by the time they're in seventh year! I know, I have to listen to Severus complaining about it all the time. Where did you make it?"

"That I'm afraid I can't tell you, I have to leave Ron and Harry somewhere to go this year."

Minerva laughed. "Somehow I think those two would have no problem finding trouble either way, but I'll leave that one alone. Of course! I remember, now. You were in the hospital wing for a while if I recall. Cat hair."

Hermione groaned. "Don't remind me! I had no idea it was cat hair. And I was worried that turning into a Slytherin would be bad."

They had reached Madam Malkin's, and Hermione wasted no time in picking out some new clothes. Minerva, however, quickly put them back where they had been found. It seemed that if Hermione was having a makeover, then Minerva was going to make sure it was a good one and one that lasted.

An hour later, a grumbling Hermione and a happy Minerva left Madam Malkin's with a few bags full of purchases, and made their way to Flourish and Blotts. They both perused the books for another hour before making a few purchases, and Hermione couldn't help but think of Ron as Minerva purchased the latest Quidditch book. Hermione didn't even bother to see what it was about, a quick glance informed her that she wouldn't be interested.

They spent the rest of the afternoon in the Hair Salon, Kayleigh's Kwik Kuts and Make-up Madness, and Hermione spent more money than she ever had in her life in one go. She almost grimaced as she handed the money over and was quick to close her pouch again, not wanting to see the few coins she had left.

"Lunch?"

"Minerva, it's nearly six o'clock."

"Well, dinner then. Food is food."

"So long as I can sit down, I don't care."

"You just spent the last couple of hours in a salon sitting down," Minerva pointed out.

"It's not the same. I'll be eating, not subjecting myself to torture."

Minerva laughed and rolled her eyes, steering Hermione into Ashore Lane and into a small café. Hermione glanced at the sign, but couldn't make out what it said the writing was so faded. It was a small room with only twelve tables, but the bright décor made the space seem so much bigger than it was. Hermione instantly felt calmer and more relaxed than she had since being introduced to Minerva the Power Shopper.

McGonagall seemed to know the staff and they were quickly shown to a small table next to the window. They ordered and their food arrived only moments later, and Hermione knew she was glad to be in the Wizarding World. She was famished, and it was only when her food was put in front of her that she realised she hadn't eaten anything all day.

They made quick work of their dinner and, before long, were headed back to The Leaky Cauldron. Minerva asked her to stay for a few drinks, but Hermione refused, wanting nothing more than to go home and curl up in bed with a book.

She said goodbye and Apparated to the train station, glad that she had run into her old teacher. She knew that, however hard it might be fitting in with the rest of the staff, Minerva was on her side, and not only that, Hermione had made a friend. It seemed strange to be thinking of someone she respected so much as a friend, and yet there it was. Hermione Granger was no longer the small bushy haired little know-it-all; she was a teacher and an adult.

She smiled to herself as she cut the engine, aware that she had driven home on autopilot and ever thankful that she had avoided an accident. She was a good driver, but that didn't mean she liked the idea of driving without thinking.

She opened the boot and retrieved her purchases, making her way into the house and automatically checking the wards. The lights were on, and the moment she stepped inside, she realised just how cold it really was outside.

"Mia?"

Hermione grinned and placed her bags at the bottom of the stairs, and entered the kitchen. She smiled at her aunt and gave her a hug, avoiding the spoon that was dripping with what appeared to be chocolate spread.

"Hey," she said with a grin. "Another craving?"

Her aunt smiled and held up the bowl in her hands. "Chocolate spread with Chilli crisps and peanut butter."

"That's disgusting!"

"I know, but baby likes it."

"You have a weird child."

"I'll have you know," Linda said, leading Hermione towards the living room, "you had your mother craving Pickle Sandwiches with gravy and ketchup."

"I did not!"

"You did, too." Linda stopped at the living room door as the bags caught her eye. "My God, Mia, did you buy up the whole of England?"

Hermione laughed and pulled her aunt into the living room. "It wasn't my fault! I ran into Minerva, you remember, Professor McGonagall?" Her aunt nodded and she continued, "Well, she insisted on my buying everything that fit!"

"I like that hat," Linda said with a gleam in her eye. "Take it off."

"I thought you just said you liked it."

"I do, but the hair underneath it caught my eye. Let me see."

Hermione smiled and pulled off the hat, letting her aunt see the full effect of her day, and grinned. "Well, what do you think?"

"I think you've been playing with magic again, because I know for a fact that your hair would never do that otherwise! Just look at my mop."

Hermione laughed and sat down beside Linda, making sure her eyes didn't stray to the horrible concoction her aunt was eating. It was a well-known fact that Hermione got her hair from her aunt, and both women hated the fact that it was so uncontrollable. Whilst neither woman was particularly vain, breaking brushes on a weekly basis began to get annoying after a while. Not to mention expensive.

"So, you all ready for work now?"

"I think so," Hermione said with a smile. "I can't believe I'm going to be working. Let alone at the school I grew up in."

"I'm so proud of you, Mia," Linda said, pulling her into a hug. "And your parents are too, I know it. They're watching over you and they're smiling."

Blinking back tears, Hermione hugged her aunt closer. "Thank you."

"For what?"

"For looking after me. For moving in, even though Darren wants you to live with him. For putting your life on hold for me."

"Don't be silly, sweetheart, that's what family is for," Linda said with a soothing tone. "Besides, I'm refusing to move in with Darren on principle."

Hermione laughed. "You know he's completely clueless, not to mention hopeless. You might want to give him a hint."

"I've been hinting for months! Since before the little one appeared, even."

Hermione sat up and arched her eyebrows at Linda. "I was thinking of hinting more along the lines of booking the church, setting everything up and just telling him to be there. Darren won't get it otherwise!"

"No," Linda said stubbornly. "Until that man gets down on one knee and makes an honest woman out of me, I will not be budging."

Hermione laughed, but a moment later found herself yawning. "I think I'm going to get some sleep. I've got to get my class lessons prepared by the time I get to Hogwarts. I think Dumbledore would prefer them before that even. And after trailing round the shops, not only do I know I'll have sore legs tomorrow, I know I'll never go shopping with Minerva McGonagall again!"

Linda laughed and pecked her on the cheek. "Night."

"Good night."

Hermione excused herself and closed the door gently behind her, before hauling all her bags up the stairs. Not one for mess, she quickly put away all her new belongings in the trunk she had already begun to pack, only leaving out one outfit for the day she left. She changed, showered quickly and was asleep the minute her head hit the pillow.

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"Now, you're sure you have everything?"

"Yes, Linda, I'm sure."

"I just don't want you popping in and scaring the living daylights out of me when you realise you forgot something."

Hermione laughed, remembering the one and only time she had ever Apparated when Linda was in. She had appeared right in front of her aunt, who had promptly fainted. "I promise I won't. If I've forgotten anything, I'll send Snowshine back for it. You remember how to use Owl post, right?"

"I remember."

Hermione glanced at Snowshine, who was asleep in her cage and smiled. The beautiful small-eared owl had been her parents' last gift to her. They had named it after the first animal Hermione had ever fallen in love with; a small cat she had found at the age of two, and unfortunately had been parted with the next day when it's its owners came looking for it.

Hermione had named the white cat Snowshine, not yet being old enough to understand what her parents meant when she asked, "If the sun shines, then why does the snow not?" She had later argued that the glare from the sun often caused the snow to shine, but either way, she had loved that cat, even though she had only had it for one night, just as she loved her owl.

"Okay, I had better get going," Hermione said, making sure that she had everything in her pockets. She had shrunk all her belongings apart from Snowshine, and everything she would have with her for the next year was currently residing in her pockets. "I don't want to be late."

"Hermione, you have ages yet, you won't be late."

"I know, but it's my first day," she argued, "I don't want to be even the slightest bit late."

Linda chuckled and shook her head. "Okay, Mia, have it your way." She pulled her niece into a hug, careful not to squash the large bump that had taken over her stomach.

"Take care, Linda, and I want to know the minute the little one even thinks about coming out. Okay?"

"Okay, I'll see you for Christmas?"

"I'll come back for a few days, if I can."

They stood in silence for a few moments, before Linda reached out to hold Hermione's arms. "I just want to say it once more. I am so proud of you, Hermione. You have become an amazing young woman and I am so proud of you, and I want you to know that your parents would be as well. I realise you know that, but sometimes it's easier to keep believing if someone else says it."

"Thank you," Hermione said in a whisper, not trusting herself to speak any louder. She gave Linda another quick hug before stepping back and picking up Snowshine's cage. "Bye!"

She closed her eyes and concentrated, and when she opened them again, she found herself standing on the outskirts of Hogsmeade. She took a deep breath and turned to look behind her, nervousness taking over her stomach as Hogwarts looked at her from a short distance.

Well, here I go!

She set herself a steady pace and before she even realised she was nearing them, she had passed through the gates and was making her way up the path to the castle. It seemed so strange to be there when she knew it was all but deserted. She had stayed over holidays before, but it wasn't the same this time. She was no longer a student staying to be with her friends, she was there because she was a member of staff. She was a teacher.

She entered the building and almost screamed when someone was suddenly standing right in front of her. She took a few deep breaths and smiled in spite of herself. "I'm sorry, Professor, you startled me."

"Not a problem," the Astronomy teacher said with a light laugh. "I didn't mean to frighten you. I saw you approach and assumed you would be one of the new teachers. I'm the Astronomy Professor, Seriya Sinistra," the woman said, extending a hand, and Hermione stared at her incredulously.

"Er, it's nice to meet you." She paused for a moment, and decided to give the Professor a fright of her own. Minerva was rubbing of on her. "I'm the new Arithmancy Professor, Hermione Granger."

Hermione couldn't help the laugh that escaped when Professor Sinistra's eyes all but popped out of her head. The woman was scrutinising Hermione a way that would have had her squirming if not for the fact that she found the situation funny.

"My goodness, Miss Granger, I hardly recognised you. In fact, I didn't recognise you!"

"Please, call me Hermione."

Professor Sinistra smiled. "Of course, Hermione, but only if you return the favour."

"I'm not sure that's such a good idea," Hermione said with a straight face. "If we were both called Hermione things might get a little confusing." Sinistra chuckled and Hermione groaned. "I'm sorry. I take after my dad I guess, when unsure of what to say, attempt humour and fail miserably."

Sinistra chuckled again and shook her head. "Would you like me to show you to your room?"

"Yes, thank you, Professor. I'd like to get settled in."

"It's Seriya, and no problem. I remember what it was like on my first day." The elder woman led her down the corridor and Hermione couldn't stop the slight ache in her heart when she realised they were heading in the opposite direction to Gryffindor Tower. She had known she wouldn't be staying there, but the fact that her room would be so far away hadn't really occurred to her.

"Here you are," Seriya said with a smile. "Your password is 'Eternity in an Hour' and you change it the same way as you would have changed the Gryffindor password."

"William Blake," Hermione said with a smile as they entered the room. Sinistra looked at her with a puzzled expression and she explained. "He's a Muggle poet. 'To see the world in a grain of sand, and heaven in a wild flower, hold the world in the palm of your hand, and eternity in an hour.'"

"That's nice," Seriya said with a smile. She glanced around the room before turning back to face Hermione. "As desperate as I am to hear how you managed to get your qualifications when you were supposed to be coming back into seventh year, I'm sure we'll be informed later. I'll leave you to settle in. Professor Dumbledore asks that the new teachers report to him before the staff meeting. I'm sure you remember the way. The new password is Lisping Liquorice."

Hermione laughed and shook her head. She knew that Weasley Wizard Wheezes was doing very well for itself, but she had no idea that Professor Dumbledore had tried anything. Now there was something to imagine, the Headmaster lisping his way through the welcoming speech.

She said goodbye to Professor Sinistra and turned to examine her room. Or rather, rooms. She was standing in the main room, which held a settee set, a large fire and a comfortable looking leather armchair. There was a desk at the back of the room next to the window, which was overlooking the lake, and there were a few scattered scenic pictures on the walls. Further exploration showed that the door to her left led to a small bathroom that was clearly for visitors to use, and the door to the right led into a rather large bedroom. There was another desk, a large double bed, a cupboard, a chest of drawers and, best of all, there was an en-suite. The smaller room had a sizeable bath, a shower and a toilet and Hermione wanted nothing more than to fill up a bubble bath and relax.

She was quick to settle in, unpacking and placing her photographs and ornaments in various places around the room. She removed the waterfall painting from above the fireplace, and replaced it with the Wizarding family photograph she had had in the main hallway of her home. On the opposite wall, a little to the left of the doorway to her room, she placed a large photograph of herself, Ron and Harry.

It had been taken last year, and Hermione remembered that day as the one fun time she had had away from study. It had been a hot, sunny afternoon. Ron had finally worn her down as much as her work had, and she agreed to go into Hogsmeade with them. They were all dressed in jeans and T-shirts, eating ice cream and trying to avoid the twins, who had been visiting a supplier in the area, throwing ice cream at them. Colin Creevey had managed to snap the photograph of the three of them, and Hermione had begged him to make a large print for her to frame. She had been sure the younger man had forgotten, until it had arrived neatly wrapped and framed on her bed on the last morning of school.

She took one last glance around her rooms and smiled. She felt so at home that it was hard to remember she had only arrived about an hour earlier. She took a deep breath and exited, making her way quickly to Dumbledore's office, announcing "Lisping Liquorice" with a slight giggle.

The doorway opened and she stood the stairs to the Headmaster's office. When they stopped at the top, she knocked lightly on the door, waiting anxiously for the Headmaster to answer. After a few moments, the door opened, and Professor Dumbledore smiled at her, his eyes twinkling.

"Ah, Professor Granger," he said, stepping aside to let her enter.

"I don't think I'll ever get used to that," Hermione said, stepping inside.

Dumbledore chuckled a little. "It's lovely to see you. You are looking splendid. I'm glad you got my message, although, I'm afraid you gave Seriya quite a scare."

Hermione laughed and sat down in the chair he indicated, waiting for him to sit opposite her in the other chair by the fire. "I didn't realise she hadn't recognised me, and when I did, well, I couldn't help myself."

"I think Minerva may be influencing you more than I had initially thought."

Hermione laughed again and settled back into the chair. She was quite comfortable speaking to Dumbledore, but she was aware that he had something to talk to her about, and from the look in his eyes, she knew it was something important.

"As you are aware, Professor, the transition from student to Professor is a difficult thing to come to terms with in and of itself. However, the transition taken early, while one's peers are to become the students, it is likely to be a great deal harder."

"I know," Hermione said with a sigh. "I have to admit, Advanced Arithmancy will be the worst. I don't doubt Dean will find it difficult having me as a teacher, but it's not him I perceive will be the problem."

"Young Master Malfoy," Dumbledore said, clasping his hands.

"Not to put too fine a point on it, but yes."

Dumbledore nodded and paused for a moment. "I would like to offer you advice, Hermione, however, I feel that you are more than capable of handling this situation yourself. I will, however, say one thing, and that is do not judge someone the same from above as you would were you at the same level, or below them."

"I'm sorry, Professor, I don't understand."

"First of all, Hermione, although I doubt it will happen any time soon, I would like to invite you to use my given name. You are now on the same level as I, after all." He paused again and Hermione smiled at him, catching his meaning.

"You want me to make sure that the prejudice I have for Malfoy doesn't interfere with the way I teach him."

Dumbledore inclined his head. "Another thing to remember is that things are not always as they seem. Mr Malfoy may or may not be the villain you have always perceived him to be, but that does not mean that, as a student, he is not capable of being so much more."

"I understand, Professor."

Dumbledore smiled. "Whilst I used it as an example, Hermione, I did mean to invite you to use my name."

"And as you understood, that may take a while."

"Of course." Dumbledore leaned back slightly. "Are your rooms to your liking?"

"Very much." Hermione couldn't contain her grin. "I adore them. I will admit I'm a little sad to be so far away from Gryffindor Tower, but I love them."

"I am sure their proximity to the dungeons is less than desirable, but I felt they suited you best."

Hermione smiled. "I'll admit it will be strange, but I think I'll get on just fine."

"I don't doubt it, Professor." Dumbledore sat slightly forward again and Hermione frowned a little, wondering what was next. "Now, until this moment, I have urged you towards the utmost secrecy regarding your new position, however, seeing as the school year is to begin in a week, I would like to offer you the opportunity of coming to Grimmauld Place tomorrow evening. Mr Potter and Mr Weasley will be there, and I'm sure they would rather learn of this development from you yourself, and before they are faced with the reality of the situation."

"I can tell Harry and Ron?" Dumbledore smiled and nodded, and it was all Hermione could do to remain seated, and not jump up and give him a hug. "Thank you, Professor."

Dumbledore smiled and stood up, indicating that she should follow him. "I believe we are running slightly late, and while a slight lateness is desirable so that you are not answering the same questions over, we should get to the meeting."

They exited Dumbledore's office, and Hermione followed him through the halls, making sure to remember where they were going, so that she could find the staff room again. They soon arrived at a portrait of Isis, and Hermione couldn't help but take in the intricate detail of her scant clothing.

"Isis. Goddess of Protection and Magic," Hermione said with a smile. "It's a beautiful portrait. It doesn't move?"

"No," Dumbledore said with a smile. "This was painted by Isham Gregorio, a genius of art. He preferred his work to speak for itself."

"It's amazing."

"I rather like it myself."

Hermione smiled and watched as Dumbledore turned back to the painting. He reached a hand out and gently laid it upon the ring of magic by Isis' left hand, saying, "Open Sesame", and Hermione burst out laughing as the portrait transfigured into a door.

Dumbledore turned to her, his eyes bright with amusement. "Came up with that one myself."

Hermione continued to laugh as they entered the room, stopping only when she began to feel uncomfortable under the scrutiny of twelve pairs of eyes. She shifted slightly, before holding her chin up. She nodded to the staff, and wondered where Minerva was. She had been hoping for some moral support.

Dumbledore cleared his throat, and Hermione almost breathed a sigh of relief as all attention was effectively removed from her. "I would like to introduce Professor Hermione Granger. I'm sure you all remember her."

There were some rather confused looks, but most of the staff were smiling at her, and she had to assume that Seriya had already informed them of her new position. As if to confirm that thought, the Astronomy teacher indicated the spare seat next to her, and Hermione sat down, smiling at her colleague.

Maybe this won't be so hard after all,

she thought with a smile. I can do this, I know I can. And what's more, she thought, looking around her. I don't think I'm the only one that thinks so.

~x~x~x~x~x~

Severus growled and shook his head, the wet tendrils of his hair spraying water all over the walls, but he didn't really care at that moment. He reached into the wall cabinet and pulled out his gel. He spread it thickly through his hair, and almost grimaced at the transformation it seemed to make. He wasn't a handsome man by a long shot, but having to play that up grated on his nerves. He wasn't the kind of man that people looked at twice if they could help it, and he hadn't been that kind of teenager either really. Well, not in the way of Potter, Black, Malfoy or Riddick. Where they had woman looking back at them and swooning, he got women looking twice and thinking, 'hmmm, what a strange looking boy'. He had never been ugly, but he had never had that handsome ruggedness that the girls seemed to want.

He frowned at himself once more in the mirror, and then left the bathroom. He pulled on the clothes he had laid out for himself the night before, and dressed quickly, cursing as his gel went all over his clean robes. Once he had pulled on his robe, he approached the large stand-alone mirror by his bed and leaned over his bedside cabinet, picking up two small vials.

He wrinkled up his nose and pulled the cork out of the first one, swallowing the vile pink liquid as quickly as he could. He growled in pain as he felt his body realign itself; muscles shrinking, bones grinding against each other as they battled for room in his slowly thinning frame. A few moments later, he composed himself, forcing his heavy breathing into a slower, steadier pattern and opened the second vial. The putrid smelling green liquid instantly assaulted his nose and he had to fight not to throw up on the spot.

If those little brats knew what I went through to keep them safe,

he thought with a sneer. It'd likely make no difference at all, he added.

He downed the green liquid in one gulp, resisting the urge to gag and bring it right back up again. He felt a searing pain across his face as the cartilage in his nose re-broke and aligned in the same way it had when it had been broken in his youth.

So much for paying all that money to get it fixed when I left school. Damn Sirius Black anyway,

he thought, ignoring the slight twinge of guilt he felt. He didn't like to curse at the dead, it was beneath him. However, for Sirius Black, he was willing to make that exception.

He glanced at the clock on his wall, frowning as it stated, 'You're late'. His transformation had taken longer than expected. He strode out of his rooms and down the hallway at a quick pace. He hated to be late for anything, unless, of course, it was his intention to be so. He glared at the irritating knight in the portrait as it jumped to life when he passed, aiming its foil at him. The pictures got extremely bored during the holidays, but Snape neither cared not bothered to reply when one of them spoke to him.

"Severus!"

He rolled his eyes, but stopped to wait as Minerva caught up with him. "Good morning, Minerva," he said with a raised eyebrow. "Late again?"

"Oh, and I suppose you're just out for a stroll while the meeting gets started?"

"A wizard is never late, nor is he early," Snape said, starting to walk again. "He arrives precisely when he means to."

Minerva groaned and he smirked at her. "I think I regret lending you that. All it has served to do is give you ammunition against me," she said rolling her eyes.

"And we all know that's the only pleasure I have in life, so why not aid me?"

Minerva shook her head with a smile and took in his appearance. "I see the greasy git is back."

"And yet you're still talking to me, whatever is wrong with the world?" He shook his head. "Would you rather I introduced myself to the new teachers looking any different?"

"You're right, she might die of shock." Minerva snorted.

"You know something." He stopped walking and frowned at her. They were just outside the staff room.

"I know we'll be even later if you don't get a move on."

"Who is she?"

Minerva smirked. "You'll see."

"Minerva," he said warningly.

"Get a move on, Severus. I'll go in first to keep up appearances. See you in a minute." She turned her back on him and held her hand out to the painting of Isis, saying, "Open Sesame", and entered the staff room. He growled and followed after her, throwing open the door spectacularly only to have it hit him a moment later as he stood frozen in the doorway.

He didn't know what she'd done, but it was definitely her. There was no mistaking that voice. It was his worst nightmare and she was staring right at him, and what had she done to herself? She looked...no he wasn't even going to finish that thought. She was a child.

"Ah, Severus," Dumbledore said with an annoying twinkle in his eyes that caused Snape to glare at him. "I believe you know Professor Granger."

Professor? It's a conspiracy. Someone up there hates me.

"Please, Severus, take a seat," Dumbledore continued, and all he could do was obey. "We were just about to get started. First of all, I would like to introduce the new staff to you all. This is Tera Cleaver," he said, and a small wisp of a woman nodded at them, causing her short flighty hair to wave in the wind as if it were made of fluff. "She is our new Defence Against the Dark Arts Teacher."

Oh, it's definitely a conspiracy,

Severus thought angrily. They won't give me the post because Voldemort will expect me to use it to his advantage, but they'll give it to a girl who looks like she'd wet her pants if she got anywhere near a fairy, never mind a werewolf or a Hymbree.

"And I'm sure you are all aware of who Professor Granger is."

"Unfortunately," he couldn't help himself from muttering, but instantly regretted it as a pointy shoe made painful contact with his shin. Minerva had one hell of a kick.

"Due to the fact that she was little challenged by her work load, we have been helping Miss Granger over the last year to finish her studies early so that she may, in turn, help her students through teaching. As you are likely aware, Professor Vector will no longer be with us due to his allegiances."

Snape instantly realised that he had been kept in the dark for a long time. Since finding out and handing over the information that Vector was the inside leak within Hogwarts over a year ago, he had wondered what had been happening, as nothing seemed to have changed. It appeared now that he had been mistaken. Things had been changing, he was simply being left in the dark. Again. And now he had that annoying Granger girl in his face every day. Knowing his luck, she would have Vector's old rooms, placing her closer to his quarters than he was entirely comfortable with.

He glanced at the girl again, still rather struck by the difference her, now straight, hair made to her appearance. She had always looked like a little girl, despite the fact that she would be turning eighteen soon. The difference made by her new look, not to mention her form-hugging robes that Severus could make out despite the fact that she was sitting at the table, meant she looked more of a young woman than he would have ever given her credit for.

"I hope that you will make them both feel at home."

Severus rolled his eyes as he watched Charlie Weasley give the new Defence teacher a shy smile. The Weasleys really were a pathetic bunch, and the Hogwarts' Care of Magical Creatures Professor was just as bad as the rest of the pack.

"Now, on to business."

As Dumbledore explained his outline for the rest of the year, the layout of the new wards (no doubt there were others he wasn't disclosing in case there was another leak), extra protection for the younger years, more protective classes for the elder students, and new items on the dinner menu, Snape couldn't help but let his eyes wander over to the new Arithmancy teacher. He was in no doubt that there was more to her appointment than Dumbledore was letting on, but he knew that the Headmaster wouldn't let anyone in on anything until he wanted them to know. He only hoped he would find out soon.

He had watched the Granger girl closely over the last year, as they had all been asked to do. She had lost her parents, and while a lot of students had lived through the same cirumatances, they had all reacted emotionally. Hermione Granger had not. She had simply thrown herself into her studies and he now knew why. He also knew that it hadn't been healthy for her. He had seen the effect with his own eyes.

He doubted that Granger even remembered, but he did. He had found her in an abandoned corridor on the fourth floor scratching her nails against the walls until they were raw and bleeding, crying so hard she could barely see or speak, crying so hard that she was dry retching. He had never particularly cared for the little Gryffindor know-it-all, but he had never wanted to see anyone in that kind of state, and he never wanted to again. She had all but attacked him when he had scooped down to pick her up, hurrying her to the Hospital Wing as fast as he could. He had even stayed to watch over her, although even he was at a loss to explain why.

She hadn't improved immediately, but spending Christmas with her aunt seemed to have done her the world of good, and she had arrived back at Hogwarts for another term of attempted suicide through work, but then that was typical Hermione Granger. He had never suspected that something of this magnitude had taken place. In the space of a year, she had completed the last two years of her education as well as gaining a teaching qualification in the difficult subject of Arithmancy. If he was honest with himself, which he rarely was, he was in awe of her.

The meeting continued for over an hour and Severus found himself paying attention very rarely, but he was good at multitasking; he would still remember everything that had been said, despite his lack of concentration. It was a helpful attribute to have as a Potions Master. He was able to fall into a dreamlike trance and still finish the most complicated potion to perfection. There were no complications in his life as far as potions were concerned, and nothing to upset his balance. It was exactly the way he liked it. Until of course, the inevitable would happen and the Mark on his arm would burn in calling.

He shrugged away thoughts of Voldemort, and decided to tune in again, only to find Dumbledore closing the meeting. He sat up straighter and waited for everyone to leave. Only everyone didn't leave. He found himself sitting with Dumbledore, Granger, and Minerva, and he was none too happy about it, unless the old bat decided to give him an explanation.

"Severus, Hermione, I would like for you both to come to my office this evening, there are a few things I wish to discuss with you. I believe some explanation is required on quite a few fronts. Minerva, I will not detain you tonight, you know all there is to know about what we are to discuss, and I would rather you continued your work with the extra wards."

Minerva nodded, and Severus allowed himself a moment of satisfaction that he had correctly figured a few things out. Whatever Dumbledore thought he was doing with Granger, however, Severus had no idea, and given that the old wizard was leaving, Severus figured he would have to wait until later to find out.

He stood up and made his way out of the staff room, intending to get back to his lesson plans. Although he had handed in a rough draft, he always perfected things down to the exact potions and quantities the students would be using. He was ever thankful that his photographic memory meant he did not have to carry lesson plans with him. He knew he could teach the exact same syllabus to his students every year, but he found no enjoyment in that. Besides, he knew the little buggers would simply ask the elder students for help; especially the snivelling little Gryffindors. He had no idea how that House would function without their brightest spark.

"Professor Snape."

And speaking of...

he thought with a groan. He turned around and glared at the girl, wishing she'd get rid of that new look of hers and go back to being that annoying little girl so that he wouldn't find her so...never mind.

"Yes, Miss Granger, can I help you?"

He knew he was patronising her, but he found the way her jaw clenched in anger so amusing, and he always had, so he baited her as often as possible. However, with her new hairdo the act seemed a lot more...adult than it ever had before.

"That's Professor Granger, thank you very much."

He couldn't help the smirk that graced his lips. He was actually impressed. He had half expected her to back off with a frightened look in her eyes, but she stayed exactly where she was. She even seemed to straighten up a little.

"I apologise, Professor," he said graciously, pleased when that caused more of the reaction he had expected previously. "Now, what can I do for you?" he continued, his normal tone returning full force.

She seemed confused by his slight and sudden switch in character, but to her credit, did not mention anything. She took a breath and nodded, implying that they should walk and talk, given that they were both headed in the same direction.

"I was hoping to talk to you about the Advanced Classes."

"I fail to see what you could wish to talk about considering we teach completely different subjects."

"Do we?"

The certain tone of her voice caused him to stop short. He was sure he let his sneering mask slip as she stared at her him for a moment. It sounded like she was about to broach a subject that actually interested him, and he was curious as to why she would be doing so.

"Go on," he said, his curiosity getting the better of him. He began to walk again, but at a slower pace, and she kept time beside him.

"I want to assign a project to my advanced students," she began, and he couldn't help but be impressed at how easily the phrase 'my students' fell from her lips. One of the things he had decided right away was that she was likely to be unable to handle herself when placed with a class of her former peers. Perhaps he was mistaken.

"What kind of project could possibly involve me?"

"I'll get straight to the point, Professor, I want my class to write and design spells for a subject of their choosing. This spell should contain all seven of the set number structures as well as having a potion counterpart."

Severus was astounded. It was something he would have loved to have done during his own time at Hogwarts, to fully explore the complexities and similarities between Potions and Arithmancy, his two favourite subjects, and given the passion in her voice, he was sure Granger felt the same way.

"What makes you want to link the two subjects?" he asked, almost willing the answer to her.

"I didn't create the link, Professor Snape, it already exists, I simply want them to explore it."

"You agree that there is a link between our subjects?" he asked, making sure not to let his own enjoyment of the subject creep into his voice.

"Agree?" she asked with a small smile, and he instantly cursed himself for giving so much away. "That would imply that you hold the same opinion." He didn't grace her with an acknowledgement, so she continued. "Yes, I agree. The designing of potions and the understanding of how they work revolve around the same principles as designing and understanding a spell construction."

Severus nodded but said nothing further about her theory, and continued a separate line of questioning. "What makes you so sure that the miscreants we teach will have the capacity for understanding that is required in order to complete the project?"

The girl smirked and he frowned at her. "Anyone who can last through six years of Potions with you, and choose to do a seventh, all the while maintaining the grades to sit both Advanced Potions and Advanced Arithmancy have enough understanding," she finished, and he wasn't sure whether or not to take the comment as a compliment, so he simply glared at her.

She smirked at him and turned to her left, muttering her password and entering through the wall to her rooms.

She's spending way too much time with Minerva.

~x~x~x~x~x~

The rest of the day seemed to fly by, and before he knew it, he found himself making his way to Professor Dumbledore's office. He was so lost in his thoughts that he nearly tripped over Hermione Granger as she stepped out of her rooms. He growled at her, momentarily forgetting that she was now a Professor and almost yelling at her, deducting House points along the way.

"Oh, I'm sorry, Professor."

"Watch where you're going, child!" he ground out, still unable to shake the strange feeling that he was in the wrong.

It was clearly the wrong thing to say and he was most definitely in the wrong if her reaction was anything to go by. She pulled herself up straight and he could almost sense the magic in her as a tangible force as her anger buzzed around her.

"Do not patronise me, Severus," she said in a low tone. He was too shocked to think about apologising, and he wasn't given the chance to as she continued to speak. "I am not a child, and I would appreciate it if you would do me the same courtesy as you would every other colleague, and treat me with a little respect."

"Respect is to be earned, Professor Granger, not given freely. However," he continued, before she could interrupt, "I...apologise."

"Twice in one day, Professor?" she commented lightly, and he was stunned at how quickly her moods could change. "I think I've slipped into a parallel universe."

He tried to suppress the small smile he felt tugging at his lips, and he was sure he was mostly successful. He had no idea where this young woman had come from, because she certainly had not been in his class last year and, given his usual temperament, he doubted she would have lasted long had she been. His lack of scorn was surprising even him. He blamed it on his quiet summer but he had the feeling it would be back in place before the students arrived. And if it wasn't, all he would have to do was look at Potter and it would be back full force.

They walked to Dumbledore's office in silence and he uttered the password, still rather bitter about Dumbledore changing it to that. He doubted he would have minded if the old man hadn't decided to give him one of the joke sweets, but then he never really had had a sense of humour where ridicule was concerned.

"Ah, Severus, Hermione, you're just in time."

"In time for what?" Hermione asked, and Severus was pleased. He hated playing mind games with Dumbledore because, even when he won, he had the feeling that the old coot was laughing at him.

"For some tea and cakes."

For some reason, he found himself leaning closer to her and whispering rather loudly, "Don't touch the cakes, he buys them from those blasted Weasleys."

Her laughter was more feminine than he remembered, not that he had really ever heard her laugh before, but the effect was the same. He had no idea what was happening to him. He wasn't acting like himself. He was meant to scowl at her and sneer at her general existence. He was generally not a nice man. It had to be the hair.

They settled down in armchairs by the fire, and Severus helped himself to a cup of tea, watching with slight amusement as Granger inspected the cakes. He glanced at Dumbledore and the wizard smiled at him, amusement peeking out behind his glasses. Severus rolled his eyes and waited for Granger and the Headmaster to settle themselves.

"I feel little need for idle chat, and I have some business to attend later, therefore I will get straight to the point." Severus and Hermione exchanged glances and, although he was making the effort to hide his emotions, as always, he sensed that she knew he was intrigued, just as he could tell she was.

Don't tell me he hasn't even told

her the reasons behind all this, Severus thought with a hint of impatience. Sometimes that old man goes too far.

"Hermione, as you are aware, I made you the offer during the summer of last year to complete your studies early and come to Hogwarts as a teacher." Hermione nodded and Dumbledore continued. "What you are not aware of is the reason I chose to make this offer. First of all, I wish to apologise for taking advantage of the unfortunate circumstances of your parents' death in proposing the idea to you. I will not lie and tell you that I was not bargaining on you channelling your pain into learning, because I was."

Snape watched as Hermione bristled, and he narrowed his eyes slightly at the Headmaster. The man was no saint by a long shot, despite what his pupils tended to believe, but Snape hadn't expected this, and clearly, Granger hadn't either.

"We needed you to agree, and I took advantage of your pain to get you to do so, but before you get angry at me, Professor Granger, please listen to my reasoning." He paused, and Hermione nodded slightly. "There are two main reasons I had for making the decision I did. First of all, Professor Snape had informed me that my Arithmancy Professor had taken the Dark Mark without my knowledge, and had been leaking information to Voldemort for a long time."

It was nothing that either of them didn't already know, but he had to credit her. While he was cursing Dumbledore for mentioning his part in things so openly to her, he was impressed that she didn't react to it, or the mention of Voldemort's name.

Probably due to the idiocy of Potter. He's dragged her into the thick of things so many times, she's immune to the fear of His name.

After a few more moments of silence, Hermione nodded. "Go on."

"The second reason is the most important. Hermione, have you ever heard the term Hermanté before?"

Snape almost dropped his cup. As it was, he felt a few drops of scalding hot tea hitting the top of his thighs, but he didn't react to it. He was too shocked.

"I think so," Hermione said, glancing at Snape. "Hermanté are legendary seers, but more than that, they are emotion witches. A Hermanté can sense a person's aura and manipulate the energies around that person. She can cast her mind into the future and foretell what will come to be, through the choices that people make. Choices are based on emotions, and because Hermanté can read emotions, this allows more accuracy in their readings of the future.

"Hermanté was the name of the first, and worst, of her kind. At least, she's the first person to be documented. She was meant to be the most powerful of all. She used her seeing abilities and manipulated them along with the energies of her worst enemy. She cast into his mind and destroyed him from inside his own head. She played with his senses and warped his sense of reality."

Dumbledore nodded and Hermione took a deep breath. "What has this got to do with me?"

Snape glanced back at her, knowing that a part of her must have made the same link he had. Although he desperately hoped he was wrong. While he knew the basis of the Hermanté, he was by no means an expert on the subject. However, what with his slight knowledge of the subject, the thought that Hermione Granger, of all people, could be one of the legendary seers didn't fill him with a lot of hope.

"Hermanté is magic, Hermione. She is the sense and the sight of magic. Yes, she can manipulate it and bend it to her will, but only she who truly understands it can wield its greatest power."

"That's nice," Hermione said, and Severus could hear a slight hysterical panic hiding behind her voice. "But I ask again. What does this have to do with me?"

"The last documented Hermanté, Maria Olena, left behind a prophecy in her memoirs. 'In the future, in times to come, when the dreaded skull grips the hearts of the many, a power shall arise like no other. Two opposites of morality linked together by fate will fight to the end, where only one shall survive. Within this great battle I place my power. I will hand it down to the next rightful child, and when she is of age she will help whom she chooses, but be wary of the power I charge. Anger will cloud and Passion will interfere, and if her choice is not true, Death will become all.'"

"How cheerful," Severus said without thinking. He glanced at Hermione, who seemed briefly amused, and he couldn't help returning it with a slight twitch of his mouth.

"What makes you so sure it's me?" she asked finally. "I mean, I assume that's what this is all about. You're assuming it's me."

"Yes, Hermione, I believe it is you," Dumbledore clarified, and Snape resisted the urge to groan. "That was not the only prophecy. About six years ago, another seer, a young woman who showed much promise, despite her eccentric and fickle ways, foretold that the woman that Maria Olena speaks of would be at the heart of the battle for years before her time, bound by a friendship of three. She foretold the woman would be struck by a great tragedy before her coming of age. She would be marked by nail and stone and touched by the desires for both sides."

"Oh." Hermione took a deep breath and nodded. "Who was she? This seer?"

"Her name was Bertha Jorkins."

Snape closed his eyes and took a deep breath. He understood the secrecy now. He understood why the death of Hermione's parents had not been common knowledge and why Dumbledore had felt the need to keep it that way. He understood why the young woman before him was put through everything. Hermione would be 'touched by the desire for both sides', which meant Voldemort could tempt her if he knew who she was. His attack on Hermione's parents proved one thing. Bertha Jorkins had been more useful to Voldemort than any of them had ever known. He knew what Hermione was, or rather, he knew what she could become.

~x~x~x~x~x~

TBC...