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It took a surprisingly short amount of time for Hermione to calm down enough to visit all of her professors to apologize and gather assignments. She hadn't cried, raged or otherwise expended her emotions, and she knew, intellectually, that she would need to eventually, but there were more important matters to deal with first. Like homework.

Most of her professors had balked at giving her make-up assignments. Vector had been quite nasty about it, but Hermione had persisted, and eventually she had enough work to keep her busy till the end of the weekend at the very least.

Smiling, she entered the library for the books necessary to complete her new Charms research essay, ruthlessly burying any thoughts when the term 'avoidance technique' crept up.

She'd just gathered the last book she needed and was about to head off in search of some light reading when someone tapped her on the shoulder. Battle instincts kicking in, she dropped her books, spun on her heel, and just barely refrained from hexing an extremely frightened Theodore Nott. After a brief pause to collect her breath, she lowered her wand with an apology.

"I am so sorry, Theodore! I... Well..."

Theodore was shaking slightly as he backed up, but he shook off the apology with a faint voice. "No worries, Her-Hermione. It was, er, impolite of me to touch you."

He knelt down to pick up the books she'd dropped while she looked at him, bemused.

"Erm, I think it's more of a social faux pas to hex before looking than it is to touch without asking. Well, at least an innocent touch like that," she added darkly.

Nott looked up at the change in her tone, but didn't comment. Instead he said, "Er, is that a new wand?"

She looked down at the wand still in her hand and blushed. "Oh, yes, you could say that. My wand got broken, so this is a loaner until I get a chance to replace it."

Nott frowned, looking at the wand more closely. "You know I'd swear I've seen that wand before... Is it a professor's wand?"

Hermione shook her head slowly, and knowing he'd place it eventually, she admitted, "No, it's actually Lucius Malfoy's. He was the one who broke my wand, so I figured it was only fair to use his in the meantime."

Nott looked at her warily, though not unkindly. The scrutiny made her blush.

"Er, well, won't he miss it?" he asked tentatively.

"I... well, considering he'll probably be going to Azkaban before the day is out, I'm guessing it won't matter if he did."

Nott's look intensified. "Azkaban? What did he do? And how did he get caught?"

Hermione felt her traitorous lip tremble, and she sat down heavily from her kneeling position. Resting her head in her hands, she cursed her bad timing. She hadn't shed a tear while pacing the empty corridors or facing her professors, but confronted by a friendly peer, she suddenly felt the urge to become a bloody hosepipe again. It was ridiculous.

"Er, it's okay. You don't have to answer," Nott said from closer than Hermione remembered him being. She looked up and found him hovering over her very awkwardly, as if he wanted to offer his shoulder to cry on, but was afraid of being hexed for it. She wanted to laugh, but thought it might be taken the wrong way.

"Lucius attacked me the other day," she answered after composing herself. "Severus took it upon himself to catch the bast...him."

Nott gave her a piercing look, but carefully said nothing. Instead, he sat down next to her, leaving a comfortable amount of space between them. He looked around as if for a distraction and spotted the pile of books. Picking up the tome on top, he smiled at the title.

"The Resonance and Amalgamation Within Transfigurating Charms?" he read in an amused voice.

She sighed, bracing herself for some comment on how Quidditch was a far superior pastime than reading theoretical texts that went far beyond the required course load. Therefore, she was surprised when Nott looked at her with an admiring smile and said, "Now I understand why I never caught up with you if this is the kind of text you use as reference material." He softly drew a finger over the engraved lettering in an almost reverential way.

"I never would have thought to look up the underlying relationship and how it relates to the theory..." he continued, looking at her with a touch of awe. "I always thought you were smart; I didn't realize you're brilliant."

Hermione felt her cheeks grow warm. She looked down at her hands as she tried to shrug off his admiration.

"It's not brilliant; it's logical. I mean, it's obvious there's a connection between the two arts, and if we're to really grasp how to use charms and transfiguration to their fullest, we need to explore and understand that connection. Although I must say that that text is overrated because it barely even mentions anything about..." She noticed Nott was smiling at her as if he was trying very hard not to laugh out loud. "What?"

"Nothing."

Hermione rolled her eyes and would have put her hands on her hips had she been standing. "You're laughing at me, aren't you?"

Nott shook his head. "No... Well, I suppose I am. I just find it amusing that you can't even see how brilliant you are. It might be a matter of basic logic, but it takes a certain caliber of mind to make the leap beyond the last theorem to the next without stumbling about on false premises."

Hermione looked at Nott as if for the first time. She must have stared for a bit too long because he shifted uncomfortably.

"What?" he asked.

"You're following what I say."

"Yes..." Nott agreed with her statement slowly, as if waiting for a punch line.

"I don't have to translate?"

Bemused, he shook his head. "Why would I need you to translate? It's not as if you're speaking Mermish."

Hermione felt a slow smile growing. "Would you, by any chance, be interested in studying together?" she asked, excitement making her voice breathy.

Nott was smiling so brightly that he practically lit up at the suggestion. "Are you serious? Who wouldn't want you as a study partner?"

Hermione opened her mouth to start listing her various friends when a shadow fell across the pair. Looking up in unison, they saw Madam Pince looming over them with an expression slightly less bitter than usual.

"The library is closing," she said without any bite. Although Madam Pince had never been as sharp with Hermione as she had been with Harry and Ron, she'd never been so peaceable before. Looking over at Nott, Hermione noticed he wasn't flummoxed at all.

"Thanks, Madam Pince," Nott said with a smile while getting to his feet. The librarian nodded curtly and went to chase off any other lingering students.

Nott extended his hand to help her up, which Hermione gratefully accepted. They bent down to collect her books and soon had made their way out of the library.

As soon as they were out of Pince's earshot, Hermione said, "I've never seen Madam Pince be so... so nice."

Nott shot her a sly grin. "You just haven't been hanging about with the right people, I suppose."

She scowled at him. "And who are the right people?"

His grin became more pronounced. "Slytherins."

She rolled her eyes, but couldn't suppress an amused grin of her own. "Is that so? Well, then, between you and Severus, I should be in her good graces in no time."

His grin took on a slightly fixed quality for a moment, but he quickly recovered.

"I suppose so. As it is, you have two of the three necessary traits a person of quality should possess."

"Oh? And those traits are...?"

"Well, you respect books, both intellectually and physically, and you enjoy learning."

"And the trait that I'm lacking?"

"You're one of those brash Gryffindors. She detests noise."

"That's not fair! I am not noisy!" Hermione yelled, her voice echoing in the corridor. At Theodore's nervous grin, she bit back any further response, wanting to pout at his successful baiting. Unfortunately, she was unable to suppress a wry grin.

"Touché, Mr. Nott," she said, bowing her head in his direction. "Although, I will say in my defense that I have never yelled or otherwise made a racket whilst in the library."

"I never said you had," he replied, set at ease by her smile.

They walked in silence for a while, not quite comfortable with it, but neither knowing what to say. As they approached the dungeon stairs, Hermione decided to be proactive.

"So, what classes would you be willing to partner with me for?"

He looked at her, an eager smile on his face. "Do we have to narrow it down?"

She laughed lightly. "I suppose not, but I don't recall ever seeing you in Runes, so you might not get much benefit from studying that with me."

He rolled his eyes. "And I suspect you'd prefer I not practice Divination with you, though you might be able to help with my Muggle Studies... if you'd be willing, that is."

"Divination?" Hermione asked, slightly aghast. "You take Divination?"

Nott nodded and smiled ruefully at her expression. "I take it you're not a fan."

"Um, no," Hermione responded as tactfully as she could. "I think Firenze is a better teacher than Trelawney, but I still think the subject matter is rather woolly."

Nott laughed. "Of course it is! It's the nature of the beast! That doesn't mean it doesn't have its uses!"

"Oh? And what uses are those?" Hermione challenged.

Nott stopped, put the books he was holding, as well as those she was carrying, down, and took her hand in his. He looked it over carefully, tilting it this way and that to see it better in the dim light.

Hermione watched him as he concentrated, feeling a slight shiver as he took his finger and ran it along one of the lines in her palm.

Looking up, Nott smiled at her. "See this line? It's the heart line. Yours is pretty straight, meaning you tend to think about love more than feeling it. And the way it extends all the way to your index finger," he traced the path with his finger, "means that you're very choosy about who you deign to even think about giving your heart to." He looked up at her with a saucy grin. "Of course, I could have figured that out just by the way you went about things last week."

Hermione blushed, and Nott tactfully moved onto a different subject. "And this is your head line. Judging by yours, you tend to think long and hard about everything, but you aren't really receptive to new ideas." He looked up at her in surprise. "That's certainly not what I expected," he said, nearly laughing. "Well, as you say, Divination is rather woolly."

Hermione, however, wasn't laughing. She was thinking about how she always felt lost when her books failed her. She thought about how difficult it was for her to think of Snape as anything but the nasty teacher he had been, even though she had seen evidence that there was so much more to him. She shook her head slightly.

"Yes, well, all you've told me isn't really Divination, now is it? You've just told me what kind of person I am. If a doctor, or Healer," she added at his confused look, "can tell if you're sick by looking at your throat, then I suppose you could tell what I'm like by looking at my hand. But telling me the future from my hand seems a little more far fetched."

Nott took that as a challenge. "I was only telling you the basics, though." He concentrated on her hand, pressing here and there with his thumbs before smoothing the skin out in a sweeping motion. He examined it very closely, and when he looked up, he seemed troubled.

"You tried to kill yourself?" he asked. Hermione narrowed her eyes, wondering if Snape had told everyone about her stint on the Astronomy Tower.

Her voice was rather hard as she said, "What did Snape say?"

"Snape?" Nott looked confused. "You mean Professor Snape knew about..."

Hermione scanned Theodore for any signs of falsity, but found only disturbed confusion. Releasing a sigh, she answered him. "Yes. He found and stopped me. I don't think I would have actually gone through with it, though."

Nott furrowed his brows and looked down at her hand again. Hermione felt her stomach roiling, wondering if it was from hunger or the intimate information Nott was uncovering.

He looked up again, and although his eyes were still troubled, his face had relaxed slightly.

"Well, although you've gone through very hard times lately, everything is about to change. Love will force her way into your life through the crack you've made, no matter how hard you resist, and when you do accept her presence, everything will change. It will be painful, but it will be very good for you and those you love."

Hermione snorted. When Nott gave her a questioning glance, she explained. "That is exactly what I mean about Divination being woolly. I don't mean any disrespect, but considering recent events, that is exactly the sort of reading I would expect to receive, focusing on love and how it will change my life. In fact, you've just described my past week!"

Nott was shaking his head. "No, this is what's to come. The past is there, too," he pointed to an area of her hand, "but that was just opened the door for what will be."

Hermione looked at him, feeling very uncomfortable. She saw he was sincere in his belief, but it was something she couldn't share.

"Well, I suppose I'll see, now won't I?" She smiled tensely. "If cupid pays a visit and attacks me, then I will most definitely concede that you are right, but until then, I think maybe Divination is a subject we'd best avoid."

Nott smirked at her response and nodded. "Agreed. Charms, Transfiguration, Arithmancy and Muggle Studies?" He said the last one hopefully. Hermione's smile warmed up, and she nodded.

"Of course I'll help you with Muggle Studies. Why are you taking it, anyway?" she asked as she knelt down to collect her books. Nott promptly took half the pile from her without asking.

"Well, with the Dark Lord gone, there's going to be some need for acclimatizing Muggle-borns into our society, and it seems reasonable for us to meet them halfway."

Hermione nodded, impressed. "That's definitely true, but... well..."

"But why would I bother?" he said, stopping to give voice to her question. She stopped as well and nodded, watching him as he pensively searched for an explanation.

"My father, as I'm sure you know, was a Death Eater. He believed all the cra...all the nonsense the Dark Lord spouted without even thinking about how Voldemort was playing on his prejudices." Nott's face went hard with disgust. "He became nothing more than a stupid pawn in Voldemort's game." Nott paused and looked at Hermione appraisingly. "I want more than to be a pawn."

Hermione and Theodore looked at each other for long moment and then Hermione nodded.

"Well, it's nice to know you're smart enough to learn by example," she said as she started walking again. Glancing at him out of the corner of her eye, she saw a pleased look cross his face and smiled.

The rest of the trip to Snape's quarters was taken up with arrangements for when and where to meet. As they came to a stop in front of Snape's door, Hermione smiled at Nott.

"Well, thank you for carrying my books for me," she said as he gave her back the pile he'd held. "And I'm looking forward to Saturday."

He nodded, fiddling with his cuffs nervously. "Thank you again for agreeing to..."

"No, thank you!" she said, cutting him off. "You have no idea how nice it will be to have someone to actually discuss class work with, instead of me being the honorary teacher." She smiled and added, "Besides Muggle Studies, that is."

He grinned and nodded. "Well, I guess I'll see you later, then," he said, giving an awkward wave before leaving.

Hermione juggled her books while unwarding the door and then entered her quarters. Once inside, she put the pile of books down on the nearest horizontal surface with a relieved sigh and turned on the lights before making a beeline to the bathroom.

Once nature's call had been answered, she came out and looked around the bedroom. Her eye was immediately caught by a mound of white in the corner. Focusing on it, she realized it was her wedding dress, still lying on the chair where she'd placed it on Sunday.

Slowly walking over to it, she fingered the fabric absently, her mind boggling at the fact that she'd only been married for four days. And of those four days, she'd only spent one night in her husband's chambers. Her wedding night. Their wedding night.

She frowned at the thought, but was distracted by a knock on the door. Glancing at the clock, she wondered who would be knocking on Snape's door after ten, and then she had the horrible realization that he was head of Slytherin and there might be a student in distress.

She rushed to the door but upon opening it found not a frenzied Slytherin, but the headmaster beaming down at her.

"Professor Dumbledore! I wasn't expecting you; although, if you're here to see Severus, he's currently..." She trailed off as Dumbledore raised a peaceful hand.

"I am aware of Severus' internment, my dear. I am here to see you."

"Oh," she said rather lamely before remembering her manners and inviting him in.

They settled themselves in the living area, she on the settee while he claimed the armchair by the fireplace.

He seemed to be looking at her expectantly, but it took her a moment to remember her manners, yet again.

"Oh, I'm so sorry, Professor. Would you care for a beverage?"

He smiled merrily at her and nodded. "Yes, that would be lovely, Ms. Granger. In fact, that reminds me... Poppy said something about making sure you ate, so may I ask if you've supped tonight?"

Hermione had forgotten about dinner. However, now that the topic had been brought up, she realized she was very hungry indeed.

"No, I never did have supper. In all the excitement, I simply forgot."

Dumbledore nodded understandingly. "Yes, meals are easily forgotten in the midst of our trials and tribulations, aren't they? Well, as I would rather not be on the receiving end of Poppy's displeasure, may I presume to conjure a meal for you?"

She nodded bashfully and gratefully dug into the lovely stew that appeared, forgetting about her offering him a drink until a mug of hot chocolate appeared in his hand.

"Oh," she said in between mouthfuls, "I'm sorry. I forgot."

"Quite understandable, Ms. Granger," he said, gesturing for her to continue eating. "You've had a rather long and wearing week."

Dumbledore looked around the room. "Ah, so your belongings were transferred here without any problems, I see. Good, good." He sipped on his cocoa again, and they lapsed into silence while she finished her meal, savoring all of it to the last crumb.

Wiping her mouth with the serviette, she smiled at Dumbledore gratefully.

"Thank you, sir. I haven't had many meals in the last few days, and that was absolutely delicious. I apologize for my bad manners."

"I believe it is I who owe you an apology, Ms. Granger," Dumbledore said, setting his hot chocolate down and somberly looking her in the eye. "Despite appearances, I am not omniscient, but in cases like this, I wish I were. I am sorry your trust in me has put you in an unhappy situation."

Hermione stared at Dumbledore wondering what she should do. It wasn't the apology she wanted, but it was probably as good as she was going to get, and being on friendly terms with the headmaster would almost certainly be a good idea, especially if they were living in the same castle.

"Apology accepted, sir."

Dumbledore's grave expression softened.

"Thank you, my dear." He paused to take another sip of his cocoa. "There is another matter I wished to speak with you about," he continued. "It has occurred to me that it might be seen as inappropriate for you to be Severus' pupil, especially as it is known he is slightly less than objective when it comes to you."

Hermione snorted at the understatement. "The same could be said of Harry, sir, though for different reasons, of course."

Dumbledore twinkled. "Yes, you are correct there, except of course, Severus' opinion on Harry isn't likely to result in Harry getting better grades." Hermione chuckled in agreement. "I doubt Severus would ever consider grading you differently, but propriety must be observed, so I have removed you from the seventh year Potions schedule."

Hermione bit her lip, but nodded; it was only fair. It was possible she could still manage to pass her NEWTs without the extra few months of in-class review, and she might even be able to convince Severus to help her as a private tutor. She didn't relish the idea, but it was better than failing her Potions NEWT.

"However, seeing as it was my machinations that has put you in this position," Dumbledore continued, "I feel it only right if I am the one to help rectify the situation. Therefore, I offer you my services as a tutor, if you wish."

Hermione stared at him completely gobsmacked. "Sir?"

Dumbledore smiled kindly. "If you wish, I can arrange my time so that your class schedule will remain the same. Two classes a week, is it not?"

Hermione nodded, dumbfounded.

Dumbledore took advantage of her silence to add more to his offer. "Before you accept or decline, however, there is something else I wish to speak with you about. Your display, last night..."

Hermione blushed and interrupted. "I'm so sorry about that, sir. I was a bit, erm, overwhelmed with everything. I just... I thought it was just the paradoxical reaction to the Sleeping Draught, but McGonagall says... Well, it doesn't matter. I'm terribly sorry about that, and I will try my hardest to never let that happen again."

Dumbledore sat back with an amused look on his face.

"A paradoxical reaction, you say?" She could hear the laughter beneath his voice. "I have seen potions go awry, madam, but never have I seen a counter-reaction quite that powerful."

He paused to observe her critically for a moment. "You said Professor McGonagall corrected your assumption?"

Hermione nodded hesitantly. "Yes. She told me a tale her father had told her about 'the Force' and the basic premise of a popular Muggle movie series. I'm not quite sure how her dad could have known about it so long before the film's writer was even conceived, but she outlined the philosophy of the movies quite accurately."

Hermione stopped talking, realizing she was starting to babble. Dumbledore was laughing, and she wasn't sure that was a good thing in this case.

"She remembered that?" he chuckled to himself. "Oh, dear. Well, that does explain the glares she was giving me over dinner, as I assume you told her about the movies?"

Hermione nodded, a little overwhelmed by the information she was inferring. Was he the one who had told McGonagall the tale? If so, that meant... Minerva was Dumbledore's daughter? Her expression must have belied her thoughts, for Dumbledore looked at her and chuckled yet more.

"Yes, Minerva is my daughter. She's my youngest of four."

"But... How does everyone not know this? They... I never came across that information in your biographies. I haven't even seen reference to you being married!"

He chuckled yet again. "Grear, my wife, insisted she be erased from the records. She didn't want the children to be caught up in the war..." He paused, suddenly looking sad and very old. "And by the time I was done fighting, she was no longer around to reverse the erasure."

"But," Hermione persisted, "wouldn't your children have shown up? And that seems an awfully drastic measure to take..."

"Grear was right in hiding our relationship, Ms. Granger. My firstborn, my only son, went by the name Dumbledore, and he had barely begun school before he was targeted. After that, Grear insisted we change the girls' names to protect them. It wounded my pride, but I found wounded pride to be much more bearable than suffering three more broken hearts." He offered her a soft smile she found heart-wrenching. "And in the long run, it has proved beneficial for my daughters not to be linked to me. Minerva would never have achieved her position here had our relationship been widely known, for example."

Hermione nodded, though she couldn't refrain from frowning sadly. "I gather your son was erased, as well?"

Dumbledore nodded sagely. "Only from public records, though. He will never be erased from my memory.

"But enough about me, my dear. I believe we have deviated from the subject," Dumbledore continued, his voice regaining its earlier cheer. "Your little display last night indicates you are on the threshold of great things. If you choose to, I can train you in managing your new path."

"What is this 'path' exactly?"

He smiled. "It is not unlike the "Force" I told Minerva about, although it is a bit simpler, and a bit more complex, than that. To give a quick summary – you have unlocked the power of your soul."

Hermione opened her mouth to speak, but found she hadn't a clue as to what to say. "Sir?"

"I do not know what exactly you went through during your absence, Ms. Granger, but my guess is that at some point you made a decision that required a great amount of faith and a great amount of love."

"If that's what's required, then wouldn't most of the Order..." She trailed away as Dumbledore shook his head.

"No. Although war does breed courage, very rarely does it foster pure love."

"But, if it's based on love, why does my power increase when I'm angry? I haven't felt it surge at any other time."

Dumbledore looked at her kindly. "Anger is not unrelated to love or faith, child. However, the reason it is only apparent with your anger at this stage is because your reigning emotion of the moment is probably anger, as you are entitled for it to be. However, allowing yourself to harness and use this energy only through anger would be limiting your horizons tremendously."

Hermione continued looking at the headmaster, but this new tidbit of information was overwhelming her.

"I still don't understand, sir. Why me? Am I the only one? What will happen, and how is it going to affect my schooling?"

He chuckled at the last question, gathering what her priorities really were. "You are not the only one to find yourself in this situation. I would not even dream of mentioning it to you if I did not have some experience in it myself. There are a few others throughout the world as well, and I believe that Harry has the potential."

"Why only potential? He was willing to sacrifice his life for everyone else's."

Dumbledore shook his head. "Harry's decision was forced upon him. He made a noble choice, but it wasn't made for love alone."

Hermione wanted to refute that but reviewing his role in the war, she found that Harry's insecurities were as much a part of his decisions as his heart was. She nodded, halfheartedly accepting Dumbledore's claim.

"To return to your questions," Dumbledore continued, "what will happen and how it is going to affect your life, those are for you to decide. If you choose to let me guide you, you will have the chance to slowly gain mastery over yet another aspect of your magic. If you decide you'd rather not have the responsibility that comes with great power, then..." He spread his hands, indicating he didn't know.

"And as for why, I do not know for certain, but my guess is that everyone has this potential within them. I doubt you have been singled out by some cosmic being, despite how everything may feel at the moment. You have simply stumbled upon a door and its key that most never see, let alone dream of opening."

Hermione bobbed her head, thinking about the feel of the energy that surrounded her the previous night. She hadn't felt alarmed at the power. It had been comfortable wielding and tapping into the power. It had made her feel surer of herself than she had felt for a long time, while it was happening.

If what Dumbledore was suggesting was true, then there was more power to be gained. The thought simultaneously elated and terrified her. She was thrilled that there was yet more to learn, and the possibility of mastering wandless magic and beyond was very exciting. But the thought of having such power... She gulped at the image of Voldemort as he had been on the battlefield. There was no denying he had been very, very powerful, and he'd made such a mess of things by abusing that power.

She looked up at Dumbledore with trepidation and was surprised when he beamed at her.

"Ah, I see the ramifications are beginning to occur to you. Good, good."

"Good?" Hermione asked. "Correct me if I'm wrong, sir, but you've just told me that I could be as powerful as Voldemort, and that's good?"

"With training you could be far more powerful than Tom, my dear," Dumbledore calmly corrected.

"More powerful than Voldemort? How can... Power corrupts, doesn't it?"

Dumbledore smiled benevolently. "That is what your training is for. You wouldn't be learning how to expand your powers for many years. At first you would be learning how to control yourself. But beyond that, there is a protective edge to this magic, once invoked. You called it through love, and through love it is most powerful."

"But the road to Hell is paved with good intentions," Hermione murmured.

"And if that is the case, then the ends most certainly do not justify the means," Dumbledore replied. "Do not mistake me, Ms. Granger. The danger of abusing the power you now wield is great; you will always have the choice to use it indiscriminately, but it is a choice."

Hermione's stomach clenched as she thought. How good was she at resisting temptation? How good was she at remaining in control of herself. She snorted at that, thinking about the past few months. All she knew was that she needed more time to think about it.

"May I give you my answer on Friday, sir? Or is the Potions tutoring dependent upon my accepting the other training?"

Dumbledore twinkled. "The tutoring offer stands with or without your acceptance of the other training. And there is no need to rush your decision. I dare say this is a far more important decision than who to marry, and I would like you to be positive of the course you want to choose."

He got up and waved his hand, banishing the dirty dishes. "Now, I believe it is past my bedtime, so I will bid you goodnight and see you Friday morning."

Hermione walked him to the door. As he was leaving, he turned to her and said with a serious undertone, "May I offer you one piece of advice, whether you decide to train or not?" Hermione nodded. "Allow yourself to feel everything as it happens, but do not revel in any one emotion. You will find it easier to control yourself and your magic that way."

Hermione nodded again, taking the advice to heart. "Thank you, sir. I will try my best."

Dumbledore's eyes lit up, and he grinned mischievously. "Do or do not. There is no try."

Hermione gaped after him as he left with a chuckle echoing throughout the corridor.

Avery's Notes: Sorry for the lack of Severus, but the next chapter will be rather Severus intensive. I hope you'll forgive me.

Southern's Notes: It's not very often that I see AD and MM placed in a father/daughter situation. It's refreshing. As far as everything else, I'm joining the mob with my pitchfork and chanting, "Severus. Severus."