The Graduation Gift

The Graduation Gift

The Gryffindor roar was rather deafening. Hermione was glad for Harry; he, more than any of them, deserved the bit of happiness he had just grabbed. She just hoped it didn’t turn around and bite him in the rear. However, thinking about the person that Harry was currently squeezing the stuffing out of, that had probably already happened.

Hermione had moved to the crowd’s edge to await her parents. The train from Sheffield was never on time, so she settled down to wait. Today, however, she had no book to keep her company; she preferred to simply watch her friends. Everyone seemed so happy, but she knew that for most people it was masking a deep sadness. The year had been trying; the last few weeks had been more trying than most.

She wondered, briefly, if there were Muggle stationmasters concerned about the crowds that just wouldn’t move on. There were people moving in and out of the barrier, groups of friends that seemed like they wished to permanently become joined to the station so that they wouldn’t have to leave. It was an emotion that she could understand. The ending of this year had caught most of them up short, and now they didn’t want those friendships to end.

“Miss Granger. Why, on this day of days, are you not over there sharing in the frolicsome ways of your classmates?” The voice that sounded from beside and slightly behind her was one she had come to know well over her seven years in his class, but especially well in the last year during their search for the potion that had eventually been key to defeating Voldemort.

She didn’t look up at him, but instead looked at said classmates. “Over here I can see them all. My picture of them is a happy one, finally happy.” She smiled slightly and leaned back into the brick pillar. She wanted to ask the professor why he was here, he hadn’t come with them on the Express, but she didn’t. That was a skill he had taught her over the last year--when not to ask a question.

They were still studying the crowd when she heard her name being called from down the terminal. She looked up to see her parents just crossing through the barrier, being let in by Arthur Weasley. Hermione felt Professor Snape tense up. He hadn’t meant to get caught here, she knew. Touching him with a small, unobtrusive hand she whispered, “Please, you don’t have to go. I’d like for you to meet them.” She risked turning her eyes up to him.

He only nodded, still tense, but he stayed.

Hermione stood and watched the two Muggles weave their way in and out of the middle of the crowd and down to the end of the terminal where she waited. She was sure that they had noted Professor Snape standing over her shoulder, though she did not know if they realized who he was. She had written very little over the last few months, and tried not to mention her work with him at all in case the mail was intercepted.

“Hermione!” Mother reached her first and pulled her into a tight hug. Hermione knew that her mother missed her very much, though her mother tried to keep busy. Her father, though, was nearly unbearable during the few weeks before the end of term. As one released her, the other scooped her up.

“Hello, pumpkin.” His voice was warm and tender. His hand came up to ruffle her hair.

“Hello back, Daddy.” She reached up to rub the balding spot on his head in their usual way. When he straightened up, she saw his eyes rest on Professor Snape, who was still standing near the pillar.

“Aren’t you going to introduce us?” There was something in his voice that made Hermione wonder what her father was thinking.

“Mother, Father, this is Professor Severus Snape, my potions professor and mentor this last year. Professor, my parents, Jonathan and Marie Granger.” As she was introducing them, he unwound himself and stepped closer to his former student and her parents. His eyebrow rose with her introduction.

“Snape? The chemistry genius you told us about last summer?” Mrs. Granger was peering intently at the man her daughter had just introduced.

Snape’s eyebrow went up again.

Hermione blushed. “Yes, Mum. Potions isn’t exactly like chemistry, but…” She snuck a look at the dark Slytherin. He seemed to be enjoying her predicament.

“Really, Miss Granger, while the description is accurate, who would have expected you to admit it?” His voice was velvet wrapped around a steel purr, and she had long since stopped wishing it wouldn’t send shivers up her spine.

“You’re baiting, Professor, and I’m not biting today.” She tried to look annoyed with him, but couldn’t quite convince herself it worked.

Her father watched the byplay between his daughter and the professor. There was something there that caught his attention; and he wasn’t sure if he liked it. He looked over at his wife and could tell she had seen the same thing, though it didn’t seem to bother her.

In fact, it was Mrs. Granger who shocked Severus Snape out of his Christmas stockings. “Professor, we were planning on dinner here in London, a graduation dinner for Hermione. Would you care to join us? I would love to have you.”

Hermione saw him pull himself up to his full height and think about what her mother had said. Then he looked at Hermione. She tried to project her approval of the idea, but she didn’t want to push. He was looking at her cinnamon eyes when he said, “I can think of no other people with whom I would rather spend the evening.”

Hermione felt as if that was the best graduation gift she could have possibly been given.