Weasleys Can Be Slytherin, Too!

Thank you all for your interest in this story!

Without further ado...

Chapter 3- Weasleys Can Be Slytherin, Too!

Surely it had been Harry's and Ginny's intention to help her with this rather daunting, life-altering decision a week ago; all through dinner that evening they had brought up many points she should consider. Some of the points they made were very definite pros, and the others cons. Hermione voiced her own thoughts on the matter and, in their own well-meaning, meddling ways, they had shot each one down with logical, if threadbare, rebuttals, reminding her of memories that would serve to make her realize Hogwarts was where she should be. As needless as it was to say, her mind had been muddled incomprehensibly since then, and as such, she decided it was best not to visit the Potters again for a little while.

After all, this was a decision she would have to make entirely on her own; it was her life...her future...she found herself debating.

How was she supposed to find a man, get married and procreate up there in a remote part of the Scottish Highlands? She certainly did not think she would want a life like her professors. As far as she knew, none of the Hogwarts professors had mates, and if they had, said mates had been dead for a long time or had separated before she went to school there. Unless, of course, she just didn't know the whole truth, which was quite possible. Snape did have a daughter. What else where the denizens of Hogwarts hiding? Still, there was no man in Hogsmeade she would fraternize with given the chance, except on a drunken bender. And even then, she would think twice about it. The male professors at Hogwarts were few, and the only even slightly acceptable one for whom she could conceive having any feeling beyond professional courtesy would be Snape.

But that would never happen. The thought alone gave her such violent heebie-jeebies that she could not imagine eating anything for hours.

No, this decision was her own and one that she would not make lightly. Her choices were either eternal spinsterhood with a well-paying, strenuous career, including the possibility of one day becoming Headmistress of Hogwarts, or the scant possibility of romance and a life of mediocrity as a bookshop owner.

It was exactly one week later, as Hermione welcomed families into her bookshop to procure their students' school materials, that the witch made any headway whatsoever in deciding exactly what she was going to do about Professor Snape's offer of tenure. Very early that morning, it had become apparent that the Potters were not going to let Hermione make this decision by herself. As it appeared, they had set the rest of the Weasley family to the task of talking her into the position of Potions mistress. Or, at least, the news of the offer had spread like wildfire to every freckled, redheaded wizard and witch in Britain.

Ron and Luna had been the first Weasleys into the shop with their growing gaggle of children. Little Phineas and Miles were due to begin classes at the primary school farther down Diagon Alley in the coming week. Luna had been in charge of controlling her four rather rambunctious offspring in the shop, while Ron had apparently been set to talk Hermione into becoming a teacher.

He had leaned against the till counter and said, "You know, I'd feel a lot better knowing you were there when Phineas started Hogwarts in a few years. And when the other ones get there, too. Anything to check that bastard."

"Ronald!"

"I'm just telling it like it is."

Hermione had frowned. "Just because you are the only one who has never forgiven him gives you no right to speak of him like that."

He had smiled. "See? Loyalty for your employer already."

"Get out of here before I cuff you," Hermione had said through clenched teeth. Really, did he think that argument was going to work? And didn't Ginny and Harry know that Ron was absolute shite at persuasion?

The family had left shortly after. Hermione had offered each child two handfuls of sweets each; Aunt Hermione knew how to get revenge on anyone who tried to meddle in her life! Ron's chagrined glare had been very satisfying. Hopefully the candy would serve its purpose and energize the children to such a peak that they would give Ron a pounding migraine. He deserved it, after all. Sure, Snape had never been the nicest man in the world, but his intentions...while veiled...had always been honorable. Tough love was what he dealt with all the time; there was no room for coddling as with some professors they had in the past. Ron just needed to grow up and understand that.

But the rest of the Weasleys were not to be outdone in their crusade.

Percy and Penelope had come in then, a little before lunch. Of course, Percy had always been the radically straight-laced one in the family, to the point of fanaticism. He had always taken Hermione under his wing at Hogwarts because she had seemed to be the only other Gryffindor who was serious about her education and future. He used their history together as housemates in his approach of the subject. Percy had made it clear that, according to the Ministry, she was the only one in a vast sea of applicants qualified to teach at Hogwarts. He had even gone so far as to say that he knew with her and Snape, there certainly would be nothing disagreeable going on at Hogwarts. At least he did have a real position of concern; his daughter Persephone was slated to begin Hogwarts this year.

Hermione had smiled and thanked him for his confidence.

Later in the afternoon, the entire bustling bookshop came to a standstill when Fleur Delacour-Weasley made her entrance, nose in the air and an ethereal glow about her, followed by a miniature of herself, but with coppery red hair. It irritated Hermione how the whole world seemed to fall at the woman's feet like this, and it looked like the girl was destined to glide in her mother's footsteps. Did no one realize it was because of their bewitching Veela blood that men fell in love with these two?

Hermione sighed, tucking a disobedient curl behind her ear for the twentieth time that day. Didn't real brains count for anything?

The pregnancy glow and small bump barely visible beneath Fleur's stylish, body-hugging robes only added to the image of the feminine ideal. Luke had almost tripped over himself to help both mother and daughter. Hermione just hoped that she would not be faced with having to strike up a conversation with the French witch.

Indeed, it turned out she would not have to. Instead, Bill, on a break from his post at Gringotts, had decided to stop in and visit his wife and daughter. The handsome redhead still wore his hair long and in a ponytail, the dragon's tooth earring in his ear. Madam Pomfrey had done the impossible and healed him well after his attack in Hermione's sixth year; he had suffered no lingering affects, including full-blown lycanthropy. Now the marks Fenrir Greyback had left were merely faint lines of pink, an example of the atrocities that everyone had suffered during the war.

Bill used the same approach Percy had chosen. His daughter, Marguerite, would start Hogwarts with Persephone this year.

Thoroughly annoyed by his insistence, she was glad to see him leave with Fleur and Marguerite.

Honestly! She knew Harry and Ginny had probably meant well, letting it "slip" about her offer, but Hermione liked to think her life was her own to live. But then again, she had felt for some time now that as she was the last single one of her friends and family, that they all had an opinion as to how she should conduct her life.

The only true help in her decision came an hour before closing, and from someone who she was certain the Potters' had not spoken to. It came in the form of a pug-faced, blonde-haired boy named Atticus, with his pretentious, arrogant father, Draco. Hermione had enjoyed reading To Kill A Mockingbird, long ago, and she found it highly amusing that this Atticus shared a name with a solicitor who stood up for the rights of those seen as "impure" by Southern Americans. After Hermione had recovered from the pure hilarity of the child's name, she decided that she had better resign herself to the fact that one of the banes of her existence had reproduced...and reproduced with another bane of her existence, no less. Didn't Malfoy realize that adding two negatives did not make a positive?

She had not paid much attention to it when the announcement was in the papers, but she knew that soon after the war had ended in her seventh year, the year Draco and Pansy did not return to Hogwarts, the two pure-bloods had been married. Draco had not been held accountable for the Death Eater break-in at Hogwarts, but had nonetheless decided to stay at Malfoy Manor and wait out the war; Pansy, for whatever reason, had decided not to continue her schooling.

According to reports, it had been a quick marriage made on the sly, which had suggested Pansy was already with child on their wedding day. However, Draco's father, still incarcerated in Azkaban and awaiting sentencing by the Wizengamot, had approved the marriage to the pureblood witch. Narcissa did not seem to care, so long as she was protected at Malfoy Manor. Lucius had been sentenced to receive the Dementor's Kiss shortly after the birth of his grandson, and Draco picked up right where his father had left off with the full power of the Malfoy estate now at his back. Sure, his pure-blood ideals were pretty quiet these days, but it was apparent he had been devastated when Arthur Weasley was made Minister for Magic, and he was doing anything in his power to let the Weasleys know he was not happy with it.

It was also apparent that he still could not seem to find common ground with Hermione.

"What are you doing here, Granger?" asked the cornsilk-haired man.

"I own Flourish and Blotts," Hermione responded, trying desperately to keep her wits about her.

He sneered. "Everything is going to the dogs now. Weasel in the Ministry. Mud...excuse me, Muggle-borns...owning half our world. Father would never have stood for it. At least we have a decent man in charge of Hogwarts now. He won't let your people in as easily."

"Yes, Malfoy, but that man, if you recall, fought for the Order of the Phoenix," she replied.

"He fought for himself, Granger, and you should remember that. No true allegiance. He switched his allegiances with the tide of the war, as did Father."

Hermione sighed. It made sense that Snape had only been a double agent to protect his own interests...he was a Slytherin...but she could not necessarily fault him for that. While it would have been a perfect world had he fought for all the right reasons, she knew that was not Severus Snape and never would be. What she did know, though, was that he did not care how much wizarding blood someone had, so long as they were capable at their craft.

"Your father had one allegiance, Draco. He was just a good liar with a full pocket that made it seem otherwise," she said, but she was not finished. Inspiration had hit her, and she was quickly losing her indecision on a certain matter. "And I am certain it would please you to know that Professor Snape has asked me to teach Potions. He doesn't seem to mind that I have Muggle parents."

Draco had the audacity to laugh at her. "It must be a joke! I will have to get in on the bet he has going about how long you'll last...certainly he would not give you that position. Not knowing what he thinks about you."

"And what does he think about me?"

"You've always been the 'insufferable know-it-all', Granger."

"If I take the position, I will also be Head of Gryffindor House and Deputy Headmistress." She watched with a satisfied expression as his sneer slowly began to turn into one of worry. "And mark my words, I will have your child expelled should he do something... horrible."

"Yes, well..." He cleared his throat. "We'll just see about that now, won't we?"

"Good thing you're not on the Board like Daddy was, isn't it?" She smiled as sweetly as she could manage.

Draco turned sharply to Atticus. "Let's go, Atticus. I have business I need to see to elsewhere."

"Yes, you'd better hurry. Borgin and Burkes will be closed soon," she said, watching the retreating pair.

Well, that pretty much settled it. Just to make Draco Malfoy's life a living hell, she would take that position. For some strange reason, she didn't care that she was acting exactly like Snape and projecting behaviors and attitudes of their parents onto the progeny of previously-despised classmates. She didn't care that she would punish the child of the person she could not punish in the past. She didn't care that she had Snape-ish characteristics.

However, she certainly was not going to stop washing her hair or brushing her teeth. Or wear head-to-toe black.

-----

Severus sat in his office, poring over various purchase orders given to him at the faculty meeting earlier that afternoon. It had been a long day as the school was finishing its preparations for the incoming students, including a final three-hour faculty gathering to discuss patrol duties and other housekeeping matters. There had also been the necessary discussion of the big events of the upcoming year, including the annual alumni ball to be held on Halloween and the slightly watered-down version of the Yule Ball to be held at Christmas.

He had not really thought about it before, but he realized that now, as Headmaster, he would be expected to not only help plan such events, but attend all school functions whether he wanted to or not. This wasn't even to mention that he would be expected to socialize in a semi-charitable way. Neither had it occurred to him, until Minerva had reminded him, that this socializing would further entail sycophantic adulation of certain beneficiaries.

At least he could wait to worry about that for a little while.

There had also been the task today of choosing a deputy head, but all of the other faculty members had shied away from the position for various reasons. Sure, it was a lot of extra work on top of normal classes, and he was not the easiest boss to work for, but was he really that horrible? Was the position with the added benefits not tempting? Flitwick had offered to take the position should no one else wish to take it, if and only if Severus found himself in dire straits at the beginning of the term. However, as far as Severus was concerned at this point in time, he was already in what one would call "dire straits." Severe dire straits. No one...absolutely no one...could be found to take over Potions. Those he had approached about the position had laughed in his face, all giving the same reason Granger had as to why they would not dare take it: they were not foolish enough to teach Potions with him overseeing them.

In a way, he could understand their reasons for believing this, even if he did not want to admit it to himself. If only he had been slightly more yielding when they had been his students or peers in school. It would have been so much easier to get someone to accept the offer.

But Severus had never looked toward the future, nor had he even begun to think he would ever be named Headmaster. Eleven years ago, he had been certain he would not make it out of the Second War against Dark Lord alive, much less completely healthy. So certain, in fact, that he had become increasingly more reckless near the end, when the Final Battle was slowly coalescing. He had wanted to take a more active role even if it meant assured death to him...he felt it was his only way to achieve true atonement for his old ways. He had been as nasty as ever in his personal and professional dealings, making certain to form no lasting attachments. He had been convinced he would never teach again after killing Dumbledore. Now he found himself at forty-eight, the Headmaster of Hogwarts, with a daughter and living his life much more carefully than he had ever done before.

Yet, there was still a slim chance he was not totally out of options yet.

After reading with Thea that evening a week ago, and finishing the bottle of wine delivered from Malfoy Manor, he had formulated a ghost of a plan involving Draco Malfoy that he did not think would ever come to fruition. It had only materialized, though, when Arthur, the ever-diligent Minister, had stopped by a few days ago to see about the Potions position and whether it had been filled or not. When the freckled redhead found out that it, indeed, had not been filled and that Hermione Granger had not accepted his offer, Arthur had looked troubled, saying that he had expected Hermione to jump at the opportunity.

That night, he and Arthur had sat down, constructing Operation Potions Mistress, as he liked to refer to it. Apparently, Arthur was like a father to her and knew her better than Severus did. The Minister had said he would make certain the rest of his family knew about the predicament to see if they could add their two Knuts' worth when they visited Flourish and Blotts for school books. According to Arthur, Hermione Granger could not always be swayed in her stances, but Arthur was certain that in a situation such as this, it could happen if their plans were laid correctly to strike the right chord. That was when Severus decided it might prove profitable to bring Draco in on their plans. Severus was wary about it, and he could not be certain if using Malfoy's stinging, supercilious words would successfully bait this altruistic Gryffindor, to strike that proverbial chord, but he was willing to give it a try.

His delight knew no limit when the eagle owl had shown up at breakfast with a message from Draco, saying that Granger could indeed be a little like her former Potions master and accept a position just to promise retribution to the spawn of certain previous classmates of hers. It had surprised him, without doubt, but it had given him something to work with.

Perhaps she was not as unflappable as she let on?

However, he had expected her to make an appearance before now to let him know she accepted. It had been a full day since Draco and Atticus had paid Granger a visit. Surely, if the plan had worked, the Gryffindor would not have been able to wait. This did trouble him greatly. She should have been bursting from the seams just to tell him.

As though on cue, a brown barn owl swooped in through the open window in his office and landed on his desk. He removed the rolled parchment from the bird's leg, offering it an owl treat for its trouble, but it still looked at him expectantly like he had not been given enough. Severus scowled at it defiantly and split open the wax seal on the parchment to find a tidy, articulate script within.

Professor Snape,

Hermione Granger

He leaned back in his seat and looked at the parchment again, a feeling of satisfaction flowing through him. On any normal occasion, he would have been indignant she had first turned down his offer, then nearly begged for it afterward. And any other time, he would have rather slit his own wrists than have to work with a member of the Dream Team and who was the silliest girl he had ever known. But he was deeply satisfied right now...

Satisfied that his tricks still worked.