I Want You To...

A/N: Apologies *snort* for the shameless manipulation of Minerva McGonagall to suit the plot...

Minerva sniffed into her white handkerchief noisily, and Severus waited patiently. A disgruntled Albus paced his portrait, desperate to join in the conversation but unable to thanks to a well-placed Silencing Charm, administered adroitly by his protégé.

‘You’re right, of course.’ Minerva gave him a watery smile. ‘It is time to step aside. My concentration isn’t what it was, and …’

Severus stood, interrupting her train of thought and proceeded to shock her even further when he leant casually on the desk next to her and placed a kind hand on her shoulder.

‘Minerva, let me make it quite clear. Your abilities have not diminished, and this is not a slur on your teaching ability. Far from it. I just thought that after all this time,’ he explained, smiling at her, ‘you deserve the rest.’

‘Oh.’ Minerva returned his smile. This was a side of him she had rarely seen, and she mused that his holiday had definitely softened him this year.

‘Of course,’ Severus continued, walking back to his seat, ‘there is no question of you leaving the school. This is your home, and the students would never forgive me if I let you leave altogether. Shall we say three months?’

‘But who will teach in my stead, Severus?’ Minerva frowned. Transfiguration teachers were hard to come by, she knew.

Severus started to peruse the staffing list in front of him. He pursed his lips together and started to talk, almost to himself.

‘Hmmm, well… I could… and Horace, well… perhaps a change. He is an expert in Transfiguration; the change would be challenging… which would mean…’ he drifted off, his eyes focussed at some distant point, and an almost dreamlike smile graced his face.

Minerva wondered what had passed through his mind to cause this change and coughed slightly, reminding him she was actually still in the room.

‘You’re thinking of Horace in my place, I take it?’ she asked him.

‘He would seem the ideal candidate.’ He smiled at her slowly.

‘But that means you will need to find a new Potions master.’ Minerva looked at him, puzzled.

Severus looked at her innocently.

‘Yes… I suppose I do.’ He smiled.

***

Hermione entered her quarters and shrugged off her robes, throwing them over her armchair and Summoning a large mug of tea. She stood by her window and gazed at the formal gardens that made up the grounds of Beauxbatons. The hedges were neatly clipped, the lawns carefully mown, and in the summer, box-hedged flowerbeds were full of scented roses. It was all very lovely, but it wasn’t Hogwarts. Hermione yearned for the sight of the Forbidden Forest, smoke rising from Hagrid’s hut, and the rough and ready landscape surrounding the castle.

The pale blue sky and soft fluffy clouds were lulling Hermione, so it was no surprise that her tea spilled from her mug when a large post owl landed on her window sill and tapped hard on the glass pane. Opening the window quickly, Hermione smiled as she saw a flash of green ribbon and knew it was a letter from Severus. She untied it quickly, and the Daily Prophet fell out, along with a brief note written in his spidery, angular handwriting. Hermione lifted the Prophet and the note and went to sit in her armchair.

Severus’s note was short and read:

“Hermione,

Severus”

Hermione frowned and lifted the newspaper. She flicked through until she found the page he was referring to, and her hand went to her mouth as she saw the advert for the post of Potions teacher at Hogwarts.

Hermione lifted the note and re-read it, smiling softly.

*****

The month between the posted advert and the interviews seemed to drag on. Hermione had not mentioned applying for the job in any of her letters, and Severus was nervous.

On more than one occasion, he had been tempted to just ask her outright if she had applied for the post, but he stopped himself. They hadn’t seen each other in six months, and their letters were not that open. It would be so much easier to communicate face to face, and he had almost booked a Portkey so go and see her. Then he realised he could be accused of bias if it had come to light that he had visited a candidate for the post, so he hadn’t done that either.

Severus sipped his Firewhisky and sighed in frustration. He would know in a week. He closed his eyes and thought about Hermione. Again.

****

Hermione clutched her briefcase tightly, her palms slightly sweaty as she waited to be called. The Ministry was busy and bustling, people dashing to and fro, doors opening, doors closing. She took a deep breath, and as usual, she thought about Severus. She didn’t know what she was more nervous about, the interview or knowing he was on the panel. Shortly, they would be in the same room, and her stomach was in knots.

Her reverie was interrupted when a wizard not much taller than Professor Flitwick opened the door on her right.

‘Miss Granger?’ He smiled and nodded at her to follow him.

Hermione smoothed the front of her pale blue suit, tucked her hair behind her ears, and took a deep breath before following him into the room. As she entered, her eyes searched the row of faces behind the table at the edge of the room until she found the one she was searching for. Their eyes met, and she felt her stomach fall away, and her cheeks burned. She offered him a small smile, and he nodded briefly before breaking their gaze and looking down at the papers in front of him.

Severus’s mouth had gone dry as he watched Administrator Harding call Hermione into the room. He had wondered if she still cared for him, and he knew that just one glance at her face would tell him all he needed to know. And suddenly, she was in the room, and he knew she was looking for him. And when their eyes met, he saw her heart and had to break away to stop himself walking up to her and holding her close.

The interview began.