Five

Severus was sitting at his desk, surrounded by a quiet Hogwarts. School had let out two weeks ago, and he wanted to get a head start on next year's agenda. The scratch of his quill was a lonely sound, accompanied only by the soft slumbering noises of the portraits surrounding him. He'd lost several teachers in the last few years, and each replacement had been younger than he would have liked, but the Board of Governors thought younger was better these days.

So far he had acquired Adrian Pucey as Professor of Muggle Studies. He was from Severus' own house, and it was a good sign to have a Slytherin preside over the Muggle course. Also, he'd reluctantly appointed Neville Longbottom into Pomona's spot in Herbology when she'd retired during his first year back as Headmaster. Severus had been teaching Defense Against the Dark Arts as well as covering his Headmaster duties, but it was much too demanding on his time. So he'd recently hired Susan Bones to take the post, and now he had Oliver Wood teaching Transfiguration. With the last two being new this coming year, he wanted to ensure everything was organized to his liking. He was reviewing a few schedules on his desk when he heard a familiar voice speak behind him.

"Hello, Severus."

Severus turned around and saw Minerva in a new portrait next to Albus.

"Oh, Minerva. No," he mourned. His last true friend. He'd been upset when she'd retired, but that did not compare to knowing she was now dead.

She smiled softly. The other Headmasters and Headmistresses began greeting her. She politely nodded to them all.

"What happened?" Severus inquired.

"Horace was working on a new potion all morning in the kitchen. I was hanging up my robes when a huge jolt knocked me down. I hit my head. When I came around, I knew the house was in flames, but I couldn't move or feel anything...I think I was badly burnt. And then I saw Hermione. I don't know if she was really there, my mind was so far-gone, but she was supposed to come over for tea. I really don't remember anything else, and now I'm here."

"So... so Horace . . . " He couldn't finish.

"Yes, I believe so."

"You didn't get to enjoy your retirement for very long."

"Well, I think I would have missed Hogwarts too much anyway. And now I'm here for all eternity. Don't worry, Severus, you haven't lost me. I'm sure you'll get quite annoyed with me now that I'll be looking over your shoulder all day."

That was the Minerva he loved.

The empty waiting room was disturbingly silent...mocking her, it seemed. Hermione sat in the uninviting, cheap chair feeling useless. Not knowing what to do with her hands, Hermione placed them on her lap and then folded them across her chest. Sitting on them didn't help either. It was easier to focus on her hands than replay the scene for the millionth time in her head. She had nothing to keep her occupied while a team of Healers worked on Minerva.

Hermione was almost grateful for the appearance of a member of the Magical Law Enforcement office. They had a few questions about the incident. But it forced her to relive it yet again, only this time aloud. Her voice cracked as she described Minerva's papery skin singed with melted fabric. She tried to refrain from crying, but her eyes weren't listening to her logic. Mercifully, the man left to take care of Slughorn's body and the burned cottage. It was hard to breathe as she leaned forward, her head in her hands.

All was silent for a time. Was that good or bad? Without warning, the door clicked open. Risking a glance, she saw a hesitant Healer standing in front of her.

"Ms. Granger," he said with a faint lilt, "I regret to inform you, but Professor McGonagall didn't make it. Over seventy percent of her body was covered in third-degree burns, and at her age she just wasn't able to handle the stress. I'm sorry for your loss."

With a slight frown on his face, he turned and quietly left. Hermione's head fell back to her hands, and she wept bitterly...the tears stinging her eyes. Minerva had been her staple, her foundation through these rough times. And now she was gone. They would never have another conversation, never again have a private joke and snort into their teacups. The beautiful cottage was gone, leaving nothing to remember her by but precious memories. She had known Minerva was older, and it was bound to happen eventually, but it had never occurred to Hermione that the time would be so soon. Shouldn't it always be later? Could death not continue to wait until they were ready? Had Minerva been ready to die? Did she welcome it with open arms, tired of her crippling body and grateful for the escape from her living prison? These were questions she had never asked Minerva.

A week went by numbly, and the task of arrangements fell upon her. Oddly, it also fell upon Snape, in accordance to Minerva's and Horace's wills. It was a small relief that her communication wasn't face-to-face with Snape; both were satisfied to use owls. Together they decided it was best to cremate the bodies, despite it being unorthodox in the Wizarding world. The castle ruins where Minerva and Horace were married would also house the funeral services. A large number were expected to attend. Snape was going to say a few words, as would several others per the requests in their wills. Hermione didn't know if she was grateful or hurt that she hadn't been asked to speak.

The air was stiff and thick. Services were scheduled for noon, yet hardly any light penetrated the dark clouds churning in the sky. A covered sector of the ruins, dark from the lack of natural light, housed the funeral guests. Two innocent-looking urns filled with ash were placed together on a table at the center of the room. Hermione stood at the doorway, greeting nameless faces. She had bouts of numbness, and finally Snape appeared by her side to help greet those who came.

"Miss Granger." Snape nodded. He was dressed in black, as usual, but he fit right in with the mass of mourners. At least he was civil. She didn't know if she could take any snide comments at the moment.

They both sat in the front row, next to each other, as they were both in charge. A small, quaking man addressed the mass crowd and directed the meeting. His voice was high pitched and uneven, and he used his hands to gesture as he went along. A few women friends of Horace's sang a dirge. Snape gave the eulogy next; his voice was silky and soothing. Hermione's eyes hurt from crying, so she closed them.

His speech was beautiful, but horrible too. He spoke of their greatness and what a loss the world suffered when they passed. Just the numbers of those in attendance attested to his words. Minerva befriended those who were lost; Horace was a man who brought together the greatest witches and wizards of their time. Both had a talent with people, with understanding life and making it the best for those around them.

Hermione wretchedly wished it were Snape who were dead and not her dearest friend. No one would have cared if he had died. There would have been very few in attendance at his funeral, even with his Order of Merlin and the open truth of his actions and deeds. He'd burned too many bridges on his way up, both dark and light, during the war. If only the deaths were switched. Why couldn't he be in that urn? How was it that she was able to save him but not Minerva? If she knew she would have had a choice, she never would have picked Snape.

She opened her teary eyes and saw his cold, dark eyes staring at her as he spoke to the congregation. Her breath hitched in her throat. Did he know how she felt? She hated him watching her cry. No doubt he would hold it over her. Once he finished his speech, he sat down next to her. Automatically, she was shy, as if she'd spoken her thoughts aloud. But Snape didn't act any differently towards her. A few others stood and gave brief words of comfort, and Hermione tried very hard to hold in her emotions. At one point he gently patted her back, but only once, and she stiffened to his touch. When it was all over, she left the funeral, unable to meet with all the grievers. She left it to Snape...he was good at masking emotions, she assumed.

"How did my service go, Severus?" Minerva's portrait asked, once he'd walked into his study.

"Fine. There was quite a number in attendance for you and old Horace, including some people I didn't even know were still alive."

She smiled, pleased.

"But Granger was a wreck. She looks as if she hasn't stopped crying since you died. She was constantly blubbering. At one point I thought she was choking on her tongue with the noises coming out of her. Thank Merlin she left early."

Minerva's smile faded. "Oh, Hermione! She must be heartbroken. We were best friends."

"What about me, Minerva?" The words were out before he realized he hadn't only thought them. But that was what was beautiful about Minerva. She knew when to ignore his comments when he didn't want them to be recognized.

"Send her an owl, Severus, please! I need to speak with her. Tell her to come here tomorrow. I must talk to her."

As if he wanted Granger in his office crying all over his desk as she spoke with Minerva . . . no way in hell would he let her in here. But Minerva pled with him, and he could never tell her "no." So he sent the bloody owl and expected to get no work done the following day.

Hermione awoke the next morning with a pounding in her head. But as she gained consciousness, the pounding was more of an incessant tapping, and it wasn't in her head, but outside the window. It was an owl. She struggled to crawl out of bed with her useless limbs. It took a few tries, but the owl finally delivered its letter with an annoyed hoot.

When she read the letter, she still wasn't sure if she was awake enough because it looked like Severus Snape was requesting she come to his office sometime today. What did he want now? She had half a mind to ignore the request, but she was curious. Besides, she had nothing better to do than blubber all day.

She took a Sober-Up Potion and showered. Within an hour, she was walking up the green lawn towards the familiar castle. But once she was outside the gargoyle, she realized she didn't know the password. Finally, she sent a Patronus and soon after, the stairway appeared. She rapped her knuckles on the door and heard him tell her to enter. It was gruff, but not snide. Thank goodness for that.

Snape was sitting at his desk, his quill scratching angrily on the parchment. He didn't look up. The office was organized but overflowing with books and abandoned quills. As Hermione drew nearer, she saw Minerva. Snape was immediately forgotten. She walked around behind his desk and perched herself on the edge. Minerva smiled softly and then explained what had happened the day she had died. It was wonderful to hear her...to see her. Yes, it was only a shadow of who Minerva used to be, but Hermione enjoyed it nonetheless. It was better than not having any closure.

The conversation shifted as it always did with them, and the only thing missing was the tea. Hermione cried and laughed. It was wonderful to have some sense of normalcy. Suddenly Snape spoke, or barked at her. The view out the window was quickly darkening...how long had she been talking to Minerva?

"Miss Granger, I am retiring for the night," he said as he undid his tie and top buttons of his collar. "I expect you to be gone by morning, and if you feel you must have an all-night chat, do not keep me up with your babbling."

He opened the door to his private rooms and was about to shut the door, but she called after him. "Thank you . . . This means more than you know, Professor Snape."

The door shut smartly.

"Don't worry, he heard you," said Minerva quietly.

It really was time she was off. She hadn't meant to invade his office all day; she was just so overjoyed there was still a means of communication with Minerva. She said good night and walked down the lawns of the school with the moonlight as her only companion. A strange feeling of someone watching her sent a shiver down her back, but all of the windows were dark. Odd. She stepped outside the gates and went home.

Severus stepped out of the shower the next morning. He tousled his hair with a towel and then wrapped it around his waist. He was preoccupied with yesterday's events. Granger had ignored him the entire day. He knew she hadn't been pretending he wasn't there; she had just been oblivious to everything around her except Minerva.

He'd tried to ignore their conversation for the most part, but occasionally he'd found himself putting down his quill and watching her converse. The two women had discussed books and debated on topics. He'd read most of the books and had had to catch himself from verbally agreeing with Granger's point of view.

She had perched her small bum on his desk, right next to his arm, and had trapped a few of his parchments underneath it as well. The fragrance she'd worn was recognizable; he remembered it lingering upon him when he'd woken up from the venom. It had been soft, light, and smelled of Japanese cherry blossoms...a favorite potion ingredient of his.

When she had cried yesterday, he had been surprised he hadn't minded. It was a shame Minerva was gone. He'd never known the extent of the relationship between Granger and the older witch, though. He had been a bit miffed she had been as intimate with Minerva as he had been. But he'd bit his tongue to keep from speaking his mind. He had just wanted the girl to get out of his office...the sooner the better. But she hadn't budged from her spot on his desk. He'd wondered briefly if her bum was going numb from sitting in the same position before he'd realized he had been thinking about her bum. Despite it having been a rather nice bum, and the fact he'd accidentally brushed his arm against it as he'd scribbled with his quill, it came down to her sitting on his desk...hogging his space. Severus had tried to tell himself that this had been the reason he was mad, rather than the fact that he'd caught himself thinking about her bum.

As he pulled open the door to his study and came out of his reverie, Minerva's portrait was looking at him with the sort of smirk he usually wore. What was she up to now?

"Good morning, Minerva," he said, taking his seat, with his back to her.

"'Morning, Severus," she said. He could hear the smile on her face as she spoke.

"I don't want to talk about it," he said.

"About what?" Now she was playing with him.

"Granger."

Any moment Minerva would explain some grand scheme involving the girl, and he needed a distraction.

"Winky," he called.

There was a crack and the tiny house-elf appeared next to his desk.

"Master Snape is wanting breakfast, I is thinking," she said.

"Correct. Two eggs...over easy, and bacon. Two slices of buttered toast. And a cup of coffee, black."

"Yes, sir." She was gone.

"I've known you for too long to fall for your tricks, Severus," Minerva said. "I need to speak with you about Hermione. I have a solution to your problems."

Despite himself he asked, "What problems?"

Winky popped back with his food. She placed it on his desk.

"You need a Potions master and Hermione is perfect for the position," Minerva said.

"Hermione Granger for Potions? Have you gone daft, woman? I can't hire Granger."

"Why not?" Minerva asked.

Winky jumped into the conversation. "I is not liking Miss Granger. She is to not be around house-elves. We is refusing to work for her. We is not to be insulted by her any more with her talks of unions. Winky is watching her leave last night. She is a crafty one."

Severus smiled at Minerva. "Exactly what I was thinking." Then he turned to Winky. "Don't worry. I will not employ her."

Winky was red in the face from spouting off but straightened her tea cozy and left after composing her breath.

"Oh, you'll hire her, Severus. Make no mistake. You just wait." Then Minerva walked out of her portrait in a huff.

Albus chuckled but Severus ignored him.

July quickly turned into August, and as August passed, Severus had interviewed no less than fourteen people for the Potions position. It was infuriating...he couldn't find a single competent person. He was considering doing Potions himself, on top of his duties as Headmaster, but he'd be extremely busy. That was why he'd hired Susan Bones for the Defense position. His Headmaster duties were too great for him to teach a subject at the same time.

Minerva kept pestering him about Granger, an activity he found very tiring. Finally after interview number fifteen, he sent an owl to Granger asking if she would be interested in the post. Within the same day he had a reply. They would be meeting the next morning, a Friday. Desperation was a horrible thing. There was only a week left before term started, and he was planning a staff meeting for Monday.

Why did nothing go right for him? Granger! He didn't want to hire her, but she was the most qualified of all those he'd interviewed. And a part of him did want her here at Hogwarts if it meant he wouldn't have to cover Potions himself.

She was right on schedule as he had expected...always the perfectionist. He remained silent while he reviewed her detailed resume. Impressive. He wouldn't say that aloud, though. He asked a few questions, which she answered promptly with no more than the needed information. It seemed she knew how to turn the babble off at times. Wonderful. She would do for now. And she would probably do very well. But he was going to make her work for it. He didn't want her hired without a fight, or Minerva would gloat for weeks.

"Miss Granger, I see you attended DuPont in America. Might it be named after Gregory DuPont?" There, that was good bait.

"Yes, sir. He is also known as Gregory the Smarmy. He's the inventor of Gregory's Unctuous Unction Potion, and did you know there is a secret passage out of the school behind his statue?"

He rolled his eyes for emphasis and sneered at her. "You've been reading your Chocolate Frog Cards, I see, Miss Granger."

She looked hurt, but it shut her up.

"So, you boast of going to a school founded by a man who is reputed for being insincere and falsely flattering? He's also known for creating a potion only desperate people use in order to manipulate those around them into thinking the giver is their best friend? My, what a top notch school."

Granger was biting her lower lip, having an obvious debate with herself. Her snarky side won out; she took the bait. "I'll have you know Damocles Belby was a professor and personal friend of mine. He created the Wolfsbane..."

"I'm well aware of what he created, having made it myself for Lupin several times, if you recall," he said.

"And Professor Moonshine was one of my favorite people at DuPont. He was able to develop a potion that suppresses hags' appetites for human flesh. Think of the good it will do. These are great men I worked with. Just because the founder was shady in character doesn't mean my education was not valuable. If you can't see that, take your head out of your arse!"

She stood, averted her eyes from Minerva's portrait and fled his office.

Severus leaned back in his chair and put his hands behind his head to recline. Yes, Granger would do. She could actually be a bit of fun if he pushed her far enough over the edge. He'd give her the weekend to calm down and send her an owl telling her to report to the staff meeting on Monday morning.

Minerva clucked behind him, but he didn't turn around. She could sweat it out too.

Hermione paced her living room floor from Friday evening until the wee hours of Saturday morning. Her lips were raw and tender as she picked from worry. She'd almost had a decent job interview, and then she'd blown it. How could she have been so stupid? Why did Snape constantly provoke her? She just got so flustered when she was around him due to their uncomfortable past. But every time they met he seemed unaffected by the fact she'd saved his life. It was like nothing had ever happened.

He wasn't even grateful, although he had interviewed her...if that could have been called an interview. All Snape had done was look at her resume, then make fun of her alma mater while insulting her knowledge. But she must know something if she were able to have cured him when even trained Healers hadn't been able to or wouldn't.

What did she care, anyway? He was alive while Minerva was dead. Life didn't go the way she wanted it to, but she couldn't change it. Every time she'd tried to make a difference, it crashed down around her, and her latest debacle had been that interview. She really needed a job. Hogwarts would have paid decently enough for her needs, and she had to lose her temper and yell at him. The ball was in his court now, and there was nothing she could do.

On Monday, Hermione woke up to a barn owl tapping at her window. It had an envelope with the Hogwarts crest. Now what? Did he want to yell at her formally? But when she opened the letter, she saw Snape had offered her the position if she agreed to the salary listed below. And she was due for a faculty meeting Monday morning at . . . What?

She scrambled about the room and threw on some robes. Glancing at her clock, she saw she was already five minutes late for her first staff meeting. He must have done that on purpose...sending the letter so she didn't get it until it was already too late. Snape would probably fire her for being late on her first day. That seemed like him. For a moment she faltered with her buttons. Should she really go just to get fired so that everyone could have a good laugh at her failure yet again? No, she would stand up for herself if it came to that. Besides, he had to be desperate for a Potions mistress...school started one week from today, and he would have hired anyone else if possible, she was sure.

Her hair wasn't even worth trying to tame. It would still look the same. She rushed downstairs, but realized she had on two different-colored shoes. There was no time to change; they would have to do. She pulled out her wand and Apparated to Hogwarts. The gates were open, and she jogged up to the school. Halfway up the stairs to the staff room, she remembered she was a witch and matched the color of the shoes. She was a little slow this morning, that was all.

When she found the staff room, she caught her breath, knocked once, then opened the door. All eyes were on her, and the room was silent as she closed the door behind her. She was a little shaky but managed to find a seat next to Susan Bones. Professor Flitwick waved from a chair far too large for him. She tentatively smiled back.

"Ah, Professor Granger. Deciding to show up fashionably late for your first day on the job. Splendid work ethic. They must have loved you at the Ministry." Snape was at the front of the room with a stack of parchments hovering next to him.

"Sorry, sir. Won't happen again, sir." She kept her head down as she felt a blush develop. This was not the time to start a scene.

"Indeed. Now, as I was saying before the interruption," (he looked down his nose at her,) "these are your schedules for the year. They include classes, patrols, Hogsmeade chaperoning and various activities we will be hosting throughout the year." He passed them out with a flick of his wand, and she eagerly absorbed the information for her Potions duties.

He proceeded to explain how he wanted the year to go, and Snape introduced the other two new professors along with herself. Susan Bones looked as nervous as Hermione felt, and Oliver Wood stood when his name was announced. His left hand was crushed and shriveled, but he looked rather dashing all the same. The rest of the meeting was uneventful, and it came to an end after only an hour. Snape was about to show her to her chambers when Wood offered. Snape appeared relieved.

As they made their way down the various stairs and dark corridors, they caught up on old times. Hermione had nurtured a slight crush on the Gryffindor Keeper when she had been in her third-year, and she was glad the lighting was dim in the halls, as her face was hot.

"Minerva wanted me to replace her when she retired. I was excited to start on my own this year. But I was hoping to be able to turn to her when I needed a tip or some advice. Now that she's gone, I don't know what I'll do," Wood confided in her.

"Well, I'll tell you a little secret. I'm not too shabby with Transfiguration, so you can always ask me. As you know where I live, feel free to stop by anytime." Did that just come off as loose? He smiled at her, but it didn't look suggestive. Then she remembered. "Or you could always talk to her portrait. I'm sure if you put up a frame in your classroom Minerva would come by every now and then to see how you're doing. She must get bored stuck up in the Headmaster's office all day."

"Great idea, Hermione. I appreciate it. And listen...forget about old Snape. He's still just as snarky as he was when we were students. I can't believe he's still alive; somehow the bastard survived the war. I don't know what idiot saved him, but they could have done us all a favor and let him rot. I know he did a great service for us all, but he's so cold at the heart, and he doesn't care an inch for anyone else."

She only nodded in agreement. Yes, Hermione, what idiot saved him? She would have been in a lot less turmoil if he'd not been around. The house-elf union might have blossomed if he hadn't told her "no." Minerva would have said "yes," and things would be different right now.

They reached her chambers, and she excused herself to get acquainted with the space alone. Once the door was closed, she saw the rooms were cleaned out, just bare stonewalls. There was a small living room and study area, then a bedroom with a decent bathroom. After taking a few measurements, she left to go home and pack.