Acceptance

Acceptance, Ch. 5 - The Dopemaster Headmistress

Hermione went up to her quarters, brooding on the many revelations she had experienced during her newest encounter with Snape. That he even had a girlfriend, in the first place, was a bit of a surprise, though she didn't know why. Why shouldn't he have a sex life? He was only human, after all. Although during her early school days, Hermione strongly suspected him of being a eunuch. He had just seemed so... asexual back then.

But now she saw him for what he really was: a man, with emotions like any other, and a hard time expressing them. Except... he hadn't been like that for a while, now. Since she had been having tea with him, in fact. Perhaps he really was under the influence of some potion, Polyjuice or otherwise.

She stayed awake for quite some time thereafter, thoughts of Severus rankling in her head. For some reason, she was having difficulty falling asleep. She speculated that it was because the food was either too rich, too spicy, or just too plentiful, because her stomach was making odd noises and she did not want to move at all.

"I need to be awake for my classes tomorrow, which means sleeping now" she told herself. With that, she got out of bed and went into the bathroom, where she found the appropriate bottle of sleeping draught and downed a dose.

***

Hermione glared at the papers in front of her, and rubbed her temples slowly. Her first-year Gryffindor and Hufflepuff Transfiguration class was being more rambunctious than usual as they made their way into the class, and the ensuing noise was making her head throb like it was being trampled by rampaging hippogriffs. After ten minutes, she could take it no longer.

"SILENCE! ALL OF YOU IN YOUR SEATS OR I'LL TAKE FIFTY POINTS OFF YOUR HOUSES!"

Suddenly, it was so quiet you could hear a pin drop. Not a student was out of seat, and they looked at her with fear-stricken expressions on their faces.

Since when are they so deathly afraid of me?

She looked around at them with a false reassuring smile on her face.

"Come now, I don't bite. We need to begin the lesson. What is class for, but to learn?" She was sickened at how sugary she sounded; she reminded herself of Dolores Umbridge. A shudder ran down her spine. But when she was in a bad mood, she had only two tones of voice - the sharp, cutting one that projected what she was feeling, and the saccharine one that did a horrible job at masking her impatience.

"Please turn to page two hundred and fifty one. Who can tell me the basic properties of transfiguration?"

Only one hand shot up - a Gryffindor girl, the class know-it-all. She decided to give the rest of the class a chance to answer the question.

"Anyone else know the answer? This was in the previous unit on which you just had a test; you should know it by now!"

She realized that she sounded harsher than usual, even for a bad mood. She decided to call on a Hufflepuff boy that she had never seen participate in her few weeks of teaching.

"Mr. MacLellan. Will you tell us what the basic properties of transfiguration are?"

"How should I know, Ma'am?"

She decided to disregard his rudeness.

"Well, you got that question right on the test. What are they?"

Mr. MacLellan, who obviously was very cheesed at being picked on, threw her a very disrespectful look and said, "Honestly, Professor Granger, I don't give a shit."

Hermione was taken aback not only by the child's language but also by his impertinence. To experience such inappropriate behavior from a first year, and a Hufflepuff at that! She was his professor, she demanded his respect. Surely the world was coming to an end.

"Mr. MacLellan! How dare you speak in that manner! Fifty, no seventy five points from Hufflepuff for your impertinence. I am disgusted with your behavior. You put the noble name of Hufflepuff to shame! I shall speak with you after class."

The classroom was absolutely silent for a moment, and then the students broke out in whispers.

"She's pulling a Snape on us, yelling like that and taking off so many points."

"I hear she's been going down to the dungeons a lot lately to meet up with the greasy git."

"Maybe he's rubbing off on her!"

"I bet he's poisoning her with potions to make her like him!"

"No, he's using his mind controlling skills to make her his slave!"

Hermione had not heard such stupid, completely untrue rumors since her own early school days, and decided to make that clear.

"I'm not deaf, you know. I can hear what you're saying, and I must ask that you not discuss it in my classroom. Honestly, what is with you first years? Have you no respect for your professors?"

Again, silence.

"Well?"

The entire class glared at her. A Gryffindor girl whispered something to her Hufflepuff friend.

"Would you care to share that sentiment, Miss Martin?"

"No, Professor Granger."

"If it's something you wouldn't tell me to my face, I'm sure you shouldn't be saying it in class."

After a few more moments' silence, Hermione resumed the lesson. There was no major disrespect for the most part for the rest of the class. She finished her lecture immediately as the bell rang. As her students filed out, many turned around to look at her, but this time without so much anger. Mr. MacLellan stood before her desk, tapping his foot impatiently. She transfigured a glass marble into a chair and instructed him to sit.

"Your behavior today was completely unacceptable, Mr. MacLellan. I would expect more of anyone, let alone one of the members of Hufflepuff house, who are renowned for being respectful and kindly. I am giving you a detention, to be served with Mr. Filch, and I would like you to explain yourself."

"Sorry, Professor Granger. It won't happen again." She could tell he didn't mean it at all.

"Would you like to tell me why you did it?"

"I don't have a good reason, Professor."

"Very well, Geoff, I shall be talking to Professor Sprout about this incident."

"Don't call me Geoff, you mud-." He stopped short.

"Intolerance based on race will not be accepted. You need to learn that. And if you do not respect your elders, you will find yourself with an ever increasing pile of detentions. You are dismissed."

He stomped off.

With a sigh, Hermione retreated to her office for a pot of tea. Her headache, ever persistent, had if anything increased since the end of class. And ever so luckily, she had neither Advil nor Headache Relieving Potion left.

Great, she thought as she charmed the kettle to boil and levitated her teabag to her mug. She watched the steam rise from the vessel listlessly and brooded over what to do about Geoff MacLellan. Obviously, she needed to talk to Sprout, and McGonagall would probably end up hearing about it, so she decided to talk to her too.

I wonder if I should tell Snape about this.

No, he'll just tell me to do exactly what I did, and tell me about when I was an impertinent little whelp. Wonderful predictable Snape. Severus.

Yes, I definitely need to talk to McGonagall. She'll know what to do. After I finish my tea, I'll go to her office.

***
Three hours later, Hermione found herself in front of the desk that had once been Albus Dumbledore's. However, in the place of the delicate, whirring instruments that had occupied the desk under its previous owner, were a few tasteful ornaments, such as a Polish blue-and-white ceramic cat figurine, a decorative box with flowers, and an accurately-sized mercury glass apple. Hermione marveled at the beauty of the fruit: it looked as it had been plucked from the tree and dipped in the thinnest layer of silver, so realistic were its details.

Minerva McGonagall sat opposite her, on the other side of the desk, and was presently busy with tea. The stern witch hadn't aged severely since Hermione's school days - she had no more wrinkles and only a few more streaks of silver decorated her pulled-back hair. Well, it has only been two years, after all. She wore the same square spectacles as always. With a look around at all the portraits, Hermione wondered if spectacles were a prerequisite for being Head of Hogwarts. Dumbledore had them, Dippett had them. Hell, even Phinneas Nigellus had them.

"Hermione, dear, every teacher finds at least one student that is difficult. You have to get used to it - not everyone will like you, and if you set out to please everyone, you'll find yourself even more disliked than before."

Hermione smiled inwardly, remembering the incidents of her fourth year, when Hagrid had been hiding because of the Daily Prophet slander. Dumbledore had offered words of the same kind, with a sidenote about his brother Aberforth and the goat scandal.

McGonagall noticed that she wasn't paying attention.

"Miss Granger, do pay attention to me when I speak to you."

"Sorry, Headmistress, but I was just thinking."

"Anyways. What was I telling you? Yes, don't concern yourself. Just take points off - if Mr. MacLellan continues, eventually the rest of his house will come down on him for losing so many points."

"Thank you, Minerva."

"Anything else? I noticed you've been seeing Severus. That's nice of you; he's very solitary and antisocial towards most people. Quite unfortunate, really. He's a sweet boy, underneath it all. All he needs is a little company, but he never thought of Albus and I as intimate friends. We had tea, sometimes, of course, but he never chatted with us at all. After all, we taught him in his school days."

Hermione found it slightly odd that the Headmistress had just referred to Severus as a boy. He was, after all, a good twenty-odd years older than she was, and had been her professor.

"I can see he's antisocial most of the time, he certainly displayed that side a lot while I was a student. But he's been... different lately. Chattier, and not as sarcastic. It's a bit unnerving, really. He used to be super-moody, but now he's almost... mellow. It's odd."

"Indeed."

"Would you happen to know anything about it? Anything happen in his personal life that would smooth him out?"

"Not that I know of. Occasionally, I require him to tell me what he's been doing aside from teaching, like a sort of therapy. Nothing attitude-changing has happened since you left school. Or at least, he hasn't told me about it."

"There really must be something. It's like he's a whole different person altogether."

"Well, if you're so curious..."

"Yes? Do tell."

"You absolutely have to know, Granger?"

"Please, Headmistress."

"Well...."

"Just tell me and get it over with! It's not like I'll tell anyone you told me, or tell Snape himself for that matter."

"I've been modifying his tea supply."

"And..... um ... What exactly does that entail?"

"Just a little bit of Revealing Potion, dehydrated of course, and in powder form. The ironic thing is, Severus brewed it for me himself. I told him I'd be using it for the depressed and disturbed survivors of the war."

"Kill me now."

"Why ever should I do that, Miss Granger?"

"You... you are such a Slytherin!"

McGonagall looked fit to be tied. "How dare you! Never have I been more offended in my life! Get out of my office this in-instant!" However, at that last phrase, she cracked up laughing.

"Actually, Minerva, I think I'll leave. Surely you have more important, Headmistress-type things to do and can't waste all your time talking to junior professors like myself. I'll see you later."

"Do tell Severus hello for me when you see him. Goodbye, Hermione." The older woman, still chuckling slightly, smiled warmly at her.

***

The lake shone in the soft autumn sun, and the surface rippled towards the middle where the Giant Squid took full advantage of the weather before it would be forced to retreat to the not-so-pleasant depths of the lake in winter. If she could throw far enough, Hermione would toss a bit of the muffin she had with her from the kitchens to it. Wondering idly if it could even eat muffins, she wandered around to where some students were frolicking out-of-bounds by a few dozen yards. She deducted twenty points from each of them, and continued her walk, burgundy robes fanned out behind her as she strolled.