Chapter 5

Chapter 5

Hermione Granger breathed in the summer air and felt the breeze on her face. Her hair blew behind her as she walked along the pathway from Hogsmeade towards Hogwarts. She had purposely decided to walk to the school from the train station instead of Apparating. She wanted to take in everything slowly.

She was approaching the school now. The lake shimmered in the distance, and the turrets of the castle stood proudly against the deep blue sky. Her eyes took in the sight, marveling at the beautiful stone building that stood in front of her. The walls that had been destroyed were back in place, the windows gleamed anew. The castle had been reborn.

Her pace quickened as she neared the gates. She was eager to begin her new life. Hermione Granger was the new Transfiguration teacher. All the arrangements had been made, and she was reporting a month early for on-the-job training. Her stomach fluttered as she thought of her new position. She had thought about a career in teaching but had thought it would come later in her career. She had been pleasantly surprised to find the offer for a position so soon after the war. Disbelief and inadequacy had filled her mind when she had first been offered the job, but Minerva had assured her that by the time her training month was over, she would be more than ready to take on classes. The trepidation had turned to excitement with Minerva's assurances. After debating the offer for a few days, she'd happily sent Minerva an owl accepting the position.

Hermione smiled at Mr. Filch, who was waiting at the gates to give her access to the castle. He nodded to her but said nothing as he unlocked the gates and swung them open.

"Mr. Filch, thank you. How are things in the castle now? Are most of the repairs finished?"

"Yes, Professor. It took a long time to get everything as it was, but you wouldn't be able to tell there ever was any damage now."

Hermione smiled at him. "That's wonderful. It was so hard to see the castle so broken. I'm glad it's back to itself again."

Filch nodded and led her up the pathway. He didn't say anything more as Hermione followed along silently with her hands folded behind her back. Mr. Filch held the door open for her and told her to proceed to the Headmistress' office. Hermione thanked him, turned to the stairway, and went up. She marveled at the school. Filch was right. If she hadn't been at the battle, she would have never known what damage had happened within these hallowed halls. She smiled to herself as she ascended the stairs.

Hermione knocked on the Headmistress' door. She had found the staircase open, probably awaiting her arrival.

"Come in," Minerva called from within.

Hermione opened the door and entered the office. She smiled brightly at Minerva.

"Headmistress, it's good to see you again."

Minerva frowned at Hermione. "You can call me Minerva now, Hermione."

Hermione paused and then grinned. "I'm not sure if I can get used to that. I'm so used to correcting Harry and Ron when they spoke of their teachers without calling them professor. It's pretty ingrained in my head."

Minerva motioned for Hermione to take a seat. "You'll get used to it, probably a lot faster than you'd think." She gave Hermione a benevolent smile.

Hermione returned her smile and nodded.

"How are Harry and Ron, by the way?" Minerva asked.

Hermione gave a wry chuckle. "They are themselves. They've totally immersed themselves in Auror training. It's actually taken the forefront of most conversations, replacing Quidditch. I'm sure they'll start up on Quidditch again once the season begins. But, really, I think they're happy."

"Did they give you a hard time about taking this position? They wanted you to be an Auror with them, didn't they?"

Hermione nodded. "They did. At first, they tried to talk me out of it. I think after a few conversations, they realized I'd be much happier in an academic setting. I've had my fill of bad guys and fighting."

"Well, Hermione, tell them they are welcome here any time."

Hermione smiled broadly. "Thank you, Min... Minerva. I will."

"Do you have your things with you?" Minerva asked.

Hermione patted her pocket. "They're all in here," she explained.

"Good. I'll show you where your rooms are later. Did you look over the course description I sent to you?"

"Yes, the younger classes should be no problem. I am a bit nervous about teaching students who are only a year or two younger than I, however."

"Don't worry. You will be fine. The teacher's robes will give you an air of authority. You might enjoy the experience. I'm sure you will be able to connect with the students in the way an older faculty member could never do."

"I suppose you're right."

"How is your Animagus training coming?"

Hermione sighed. "I'm having a bit of trouble."

"Hermione, you don't have to be an Animagus to teach Transfiguration, you know."

"I know... Minerva. It's just that your transformation was such a wonderful display of what could be done by someone accomplished in the art of Transfiguration. I think there will be something lacking if I begin my classes without it."

"Pish posh, Hermione. It is five minutes of an entire year. You could come up with something equally dazzling with a bit of thought."

Hermione looked determinately at McGonagall. "I want to do this, Minerva. I'm not used to failing."

Minerva leaned back in her chair and folded her arms in front of her. "How far have you come?" she asked Hermione.

"I've read the book you sent and done some research of my own. I've practiced the spell over and over again, but it doesn't work on me."

"Have you thought about the animal that you think you might become?"

Hermione gave Minerva a quizzical look. "Neither of the books said that I was to ponder that. I just thought that I would automatically transform into what I was supposed to be with the spell."

"Well, technically, when you're ready, that's what will happen. Sometimes, though, it helps to examine your personality and try to figure out what sort of animal you might become. Doing that type of research and pondering helps you to know your psyche better, thus preparing you for the eventual transformation."

"Can you help me, Headmistress?"

Minerva nodded to Hermione. "Yes. Let's give you a chance to get settled in. We'll meet tomorrow. Today, once you're unpacked, decide what animals might fit into your personality. Study the behavior of the animals and look at as many pictures of them that you can find. The better you can imagine the creatures, the easier it will be to take form."

"Thank you, Minerva. I'll do that."

"All right. This next month, we'll go over teaching techniques, syllabus, record keeping, and the most important thing... keeping order in the classroom. I know that as a recent student, you will need a bit of guidance in that regard."

"Thank you. I appreciate your help. I'm a bit stymied as to how to do that."

"We'll have you ready for the students when the time comes. Fear not. If you don't have any questions, we'll head to your room."

Hermione rose. "I'm ready."

Minerva got up too and smiled at her new employee. "Let's go."

Hermione fell in love with her room the minute she saw it. The sitting area was filled with Victorian furniture in whites and reds. The bedroom, also a Victorian décor, had a beautiful canopy bed and a white dresser with a place to sit to prepare for the day. The best part of the room, by far, however, was the bathroom. Even the prefect's bathroom couldn't rival the one that was now hers. The tub resembled a small pool. There was a separate shower built into the side wall, and on the other wall there was a set of sinks divided by a marble countertop. Hermione planned to soak herself in that beautiful tub that very evening.

Right now, thought, she needed to think about her Animagus study. Reaching into her pocket, she pulled out her things. She placed them on the table and enlarged a backpack. Rifling through it, she pulled out a notebook and quill. She settled herself on the sofa and began to scribble notes. She listed all of the animals she thought might suit her personality.

She started with an otter, as that was her Patronus. She pondered and jotted down some other animals. Soon she had a bit of a list. Looking it over, she found that she had listed quite a few birds. Given her intense dislike of flying, she thought that to be odd. During all of her preparations and study, she had never imagined that she might turn into some sort of bird. Maybe that was the reason she had been so unsuccessful. She rose from the couch and decided to take her study to the library.

"Minerva, I think I'm supposed to be some sort of bird!" Hermione exclaimed to the Headmistress the next day. The two women were in the Transfiguration classroom, seated at one of the tables. Minerva had just asked how Hermione's studies had gone the night before.

"How did you come to that conclusion?" Minerva asked.

"Well, I made a list of animals and noticed there were quite a few birds listed. Then I researched birds in the library. It seems a good fit to me."

"Did you have any feelings as you studied?"

Hermione thought. "Just that I was on the right track."

Minerva nodded. "That's a good sign. Sometimes our subconscious helps when we are searching these things out."

"When can we get started?" Hermione asked.

"Right now, if you'd like."

The women rose and moved to the front of the classroom, where there was more space.

"What I'd like you to do," Minerva directed, "is concentrate on birds. Don't think of just one, picture all the ones you looked at yesterday. When you feel the urge, say the spell."

Hermione nodded. She pictured a myriad of birds in her mind, each one flashing across her brain in an instant. She saw sparrows, hawks, eagles, vultures, chickens, ostriches, and many others. As they flashed through her mind, her chest began to tighten. Suddenly, she felt compelled to chant the spell.

"Novo bestia!" she cried.

In a flash, Hermione felt much smaller. Her eyesight was incredibly defined, and she saw a beak protruding from her face. She turned her head to either side and spread her arms wide. Instead of arms, she had wings. It had worked!

Minerva clapped her hands. "Oh, Hermione, you did it! You are a beautiful falcon!"

Minerva transfigured a piece of parchment into a mirror and held it up for Hermione to see. Instead of her usual reflection, a grey bird with a red head looked back at her. Hermione cocked her head to the side in a very birdlike manner as she looked herself over. Her chest was white with horizontal stripes of dark grey covering it. She hopped around so that she could see her back better and saw her darker grey wings which also had the darker lined pattern on them. Her tail feathers were almost black. Her eyes were intelligent, and her stance was quite regal.

"Well, don't just sit there gawking at yourself!" Minerva chided. "Fly!"

Hermione looked up at the Headmistress. She wasn't sure what to do. Shouldn't this be instinctive? She spread her wings out and flapped them slowly. Nothing happened.

"Hermione, you must think like a bird," Minerva coached.

How does one think like a bird? She hadn't the slightest idea. Finally, she just pictured herself soaring through the air. The usual hysteria that accompanied her thoughts of flying wasn't there. Instead, excitement filled her. She was almost bursting with joy! Without even thinking, she felt herself lift off, and then she was in the air. Freedom, sheer freedom. Hermione circled the room several times, then flew toward the ceiling and did a loop. The air rushed past her beak and flowed over her wings. She could do anything!

"Come back down now, Hermione," Minerva instructed.

Dismay filled Hermione as she set back down onto the table nearest Minerva.

"Now the hard part," Minerva explained. "Turning back. Now that you've transformed, you will be able to do the spell silently. All you need do is think the spell, and you should transform back to yourself."

Hermione frowned within, but did as her instructor directed. In an instant, she was Hermione again... diminished.

"Minerva, that was indescribable!" she cried as she hopped down from the table.

"It is quite an interesting sensation, isn't it, Hermione."

Hermione nodded enthusiastically.

"Well, our work is done. I suggest you practice transforming on your own. Spend some time as a bird and get used to the feeling. Feel free to fly about the castle. Get used to your new body."

"Oh, thank you for your help, Minerva! I don't think I would have been able to do it without your guidance."

Minerva smiled at Hermione. "I'm glad I could help."

Hermione ran out of the room and transformed mid-stride. She soared down the hall and to the stairwell. Situating herself in between the stairs, she plummeted to the ground floor and swooped along to the front doors of the school. She landed at the doors and gazed upon them. How can I get outside with the doors closed? She tilted her head and eyed the doors. She didn't need to ponder long, as Mr. Filch burst in at that moment and stared at her incredulously. Hermione bobbed her head up and down twice, and took off, leaving a puzzled caretaker shouting after her.

Ignoring the voice, she soared towards the sky. Up, up, she went and then leveled out as she came towards the Astronomy Tower's peak. She flew straight from there and soon found herself over the lake. She looked down into it. The water was so clear from up here. She could see shapes darting here and there in the water. She spied a fish swimming near the surface, and her instincts took over. Swooping down, she had the fish in her mouth in lightning speed.

I just caught a fish... in my beak! That's disgusting! She dropped the fish and watched it fall down back into the lake. She flapped her wings and headed over the Forbidden Forest. The treetops hid most of what was below, but Hermione enjoyed her flight and took in what she could see. Circling back, she made her way back to the lake. Her keen eyesight helped her to see a dark shape sitting on the edge of the lake, near the Forest. She lowered her altitude to get a closer look. It was a person... a man... dressed all in black. It must be Professor Snape, she thought as she got closer to the man. He was seated by the lake, looking out over it. His knees were bent, and his arms were wrapped around him. He seemed deep in thought.

Hermione landed right next to him and cocked her head. She screeched at him, and he glanced over at her.

"I've never seen you around here," he mumbled.

She screeched in short bursts at him again. Severus arched an eyebrow. He extended his arm, and she hopped onto it. He examined her, turning his arm this way and that so he could get a good look at her.

"You are quite a beautiful bird," he told her.

Hermione beamed at him, although he couldn't tell because she was a bird, of course. Instead, she spread her wings out at him.

"And you know it too, don't you?" He took his other hand and scratched Hermione's head. Hermione leaned into his hand as it massaged her neck.

"What brings you here?"

Hermione tilted her head again but said nothing.

"Ah, it must be a secret. Well, I am here to get away from there." Severus pointed back at the castle. "Horrid place, that. It's filled with people who scowl at me and think I'm evil. I'm not, you know. People just think that."

Hermione's eyes widened. Her heart panged within her. Her only desire was to convince Severus Snape that he was wrong. Wrong about how they felt about him. Wrong about the other's reactions. But she knew it would be a hard sell. If she had done all he had during the war, she would probably be a touch paranoid about other's feelings towards her too.

She stared at Severus, wondering what she could do, especially since she was just a bird right now.

"They try to tell me that all is forgotten," he continued as he turned his head to gaze out at the lake. "They lie. What I have done will never be forgotten, nor forgiven. It was too much."

Hermione moved her clawed feet carefully, so that she could get nearer to Severus' head. She bent low and nudged his cheek with the top of her head. He pulled back, startled. His eyes narrowed at the bird.

"Why did you do that?"

Hermione screeched again and butted his cheek. She pulled back and spread her wings at him. She knew he wouldn't understand, but she had to try to make him feel better about himself.

Severus deflated in front of her. He looked down at the ground for a while before looking back to the bird on his arm.

"You know, I wish I could believe them when they say they care for me. Do you know what I've been doing for the past month? Avoiding everyone. The less I see of them, the happier I am. They don't want to see me, and I don't want to see them. I'm just a burden here... forced to continue in a profession I despise because of the orders of the Ministry. It's demeaning and degrading. And they say all is forgotten." His head snapped away from hers. "If all were forgotten, I would be far from here and not under the thumb of the Ministry."

Hermione butted Severus' cheek a few more times until Severus' hand came up and rubbed the bird's neck.

"You should be off. I'm too depressing for such a beautiful specimen as you." He pointed to the air. "You should be up there, soaring high, enjoying yourself. Go... leave me to my misery."

Hermione's heart filled with sympathy for the dour man. She butted his cheek once more, before she took flight. She soared into the air and circled his head twice, before flying off, leaving the man to his depressing thoughts.

Hermione found an open window in the castle and soared through it. She transformed as she landed, her feet touching the ground lightly. She wiped at the tears that instantly had formed in her eyes and then let out a bark of a laugh. Crying for Snape, how strange is that?

Looking around, she realized she had entered the castle a floor above her quarters. Heading for the stairway, she quickened her pace. She needed to be alone. Racing down the stairs, she hurried to her room. Without a glance around her, she dashed up to the door, gave the password, and entered, slamming the door behind her. Leaning up against it, she sighed and caught her breath.

His voice had sounded so defeated. His eyes had lost their fight. His body was dejected. He was a broken man. The one human being who should be celebrating the most was a torn shell of a man. It wasn't fair. He had given the most, suffered the most. He should be peacefully enjoying life, not hiding from everyone, hoping to be forgotten.

Hermione wandered over to the couch and settled down into it. She rubbed her arms. They were aching after all of that flying. Images of her Potions professor flooded her mind. Severus Snape scowling at her, calling her a know-it-all. The pride in his voice when he had thought he had captured Sirius Black and would receive the Order of Merlin. Snape dueling with Gilderoy Lockhart and sending him flying through the air. The man was proud. Proud of himself and his accomplishments. At least he had been.

It's filled with people who scowl at me and think I'm evil. I'm not, you know. People just think that.

She had thought that. After Dumbledore's death, her esteem for Severus Snape had diminished to nothing. He was a murderer after all. When the truth had come out, she had examined her feelings. There had been a nagging doubt in her after Snape had killed Dumbledore, but she had just assumed it was the shock of what he had done. With the truth of his actions out in the open, she saw her doubt for what it had truly been. Her conscience telling her that there was more to the story. She had not been truly surprised by Harry's sharing of Snape's memories. Part of the story seemed to reinforce the doubt she had felt about his guilt.

Then she had felt her own guilt. She had assumed the worst about Severus Snape just like everyone else had. She had fallen into the 'Harry trap' of believing that he was no good. She'd not done that since her first year when she had set Snape's robes aflame.

So, while Snape lay in a coma, she'd fought for him. She was always right next to Harry when he plead before the Ministry. She'd helped to get all charges dropped against him.

Forced to continue in a profession I despise because of the orders of the Ministry.

Harry and she had been unaware of that caveat in the verdict. Had they known, they would have fought it viciously. The Wizarding world should be worshiping Severus Snape, not putting sanctions on his movement.

Hermione huffed in exasperation. The man needs time to recover, but he's been thrown in with the very people who have hated him for so long. No wonder he's despondent. But how can he find himself again?

A/N: Thanks to Lilith Kayden for her beta work and help when my computer drowned.

Thanks to all of you for reading and reviewing.