Doubts and Severus

Doubts and Severus

Hogwarts afforded enough money to their professors to buy their teaching supplies, but anything else she might need or want to begin her year had to come out of her pocket. Luckily, the Ministry had paid her well, so now she could buy the standard pewter cauldron, as well as a large pewter cauldron, and a large and standard-size cast iron cauldron for her own personal experiments that she needed for her practicum—according to guidelines for acquiring a license, she needed to have a minimum of ten potions of her own creation, and her own personal variations of potions already in existence.

Of course, she had three years to practice and create, because she needed three years of hands-on experience. Luckily, teaching at Hogwarts would qualify.

As Hermione made her way into Flourish and Blotts to look at the choices for a curriculum, it suddenly dawned on her that she truly had no idea of how to teach. She had never dealt with instructing students. Sure, she had lectured Ron and Harry all through school, but that wasn’t teaching so much as motherly badgering.

Almost immediately, thoughts of her former Potions professor came to her mind.

She had respected Severus Snape immensely as a teacher; he had high expectations and despite his callous approach, he demanded nothing but the best from his students.

She could not help but wonder if he would have been a better teacher, had he not been a spy for the Order. After all, he did have a brilliant mind and was thoroughly capable of holding the students’ attention, despite the fact that he held their focus out of fear. He had an intoxicating grasp on language, and his articulation, every nuance of his voice, could keep students spellbound. Maybe if he had not put the fear of Merlin into his students with his first year speech…

She began thinking about that speech. It really was not a bad speech; it was just recited in a harsh manner. Perhaps she could use it, in her own mild way, to inspire the students, instead of terrifying them.

With that thought, she went in search for the books she might want to use, but in the end, she became frustrated at the lack of variety for young students and ended up settling on the same material that Snape had used. She also thought about buying her own books for her experiments, but remembered Minerva telling her that the Potions master had kept a personal library that had made every other teacher at Hogwarts envious. Apparently, it was to Snape that all the teachers had gone, when they wanted a book on further material in the subject; something that Madam Pince had not been too thrilled about.

As she pulled open the door of the bookshop, it fleetingly occurred to her that she had somehow finished her shopping on “auto-pilot”, and before she knew it, she was in and out of Madam Malkin’s shop with several robes in various shades of blue, purple and green. She also made sure to get a couple of sets of black robes—one informal, the other in beautiful black velvet, lined with gold rope.

By the end of the day, her pockets were filled with shrunken books, robes, quills, cauldrons, parchment, bottles of ink, and other various items that she intended to take with her. All in all, it had been a productive afternoon, and she was quite pleased with her purchases.

With a glance at her watch to confirm the time, she made her way out of Diagon Alley and into the Leaky Cauldron. She had about an hour before she had to be at King’s Cross to catch the train, and since she had not had lunch yet, decided to take this opportunity to do so. At least it would give her a chance to mull over her situation, and teaching.

She knew that she would never be the teacher that Severus Snape had been, for more than one reason. Not only was she planning on not terrifying the students, she did not think she had the… well, charisma was not exactly the word that would be appropriate in Snape’s case… She did not have the presence that Severus had possessed.

Severus.

Hermione snorted daintily on thinking his first name.

Despite the fact that she was no longer a student and a grown woman, she knew that if he were alive and they had both taught at Hogwarts, he would not approve of her calling him Severus, even if they were colleagues. Snape, more than likely, would insist upon still being called ‘Professor Snape’. That had just been the bastard’s way.

As soon at the last thought flickered through her mind, she regretted it. That’s what he had called himself when arguing with the Headmaster, his father.

That announcement had been one of the biggest surprises of her life. Indeed, it was one of the biggest shocks to ever hit the wizarding world, right up there with Voldemort’s return and final demise.

The witch had always respected her professor for his brilliance and bravery, something she was sure he would deny. After all, bravery was a “trait of every stupid Gryffindor”. It was a shame that none of the students had looked past that cold exterior, and it was an even bigger shame that they did not know the risks he had taken to spy for the Order.

Hermione knew that if it were not for him and his intense drive to protect the boy, Harry would have been killed a long time ago.

There were times that she wished things had ended differently. She wished with all her heart that she could have had the chance to know him better. She had known since her second year, and the Polyjuice incident, that she had wanted to work with the brooding professor. And while she knew that Snape had not been the type to keep “friends”, she was certain that they could have gotten along amiably… if they had had the chance.

She knew in her heart that there were other reasons that she had wanted to know him, reasons that she did not really like admitting. Admitting it would be even more depressing in her mind; knowing that you would never have the chance to love someone you cared for was quite heartbreaking.

Of course, even if he had lived, she doubted that he would have even given her the chance; he would never have let anyone break through that thick armour he had placed around his heart.

Hermione felt her eyes stinging and pushed them away furiously as a waitress came to take her order. There was no need to upset herself over something that could not change. There was no spell, potion, or anything else in the world that could bring back the dead, and she knew that. However, she could not help but think about what might have been.

Everyone had them, did they not? It was a question that plagued every being that had ever existed, that and ‘the meaning of life’.

And while she was not certain of her or Severus’ what might have been, she did know what his life’s meaning was: to play the protector and saviour to the wizarding world. It was a pity that it had cost him that life, a life that she would never get the chance to know and experience.

She smiled faintly, ignoring the burning pain in her eyes. Maybe that was why she’d finally decided to take this position. Maybe it was her way of being close to Severus. Yes, it was a strange way, but it was the only one she had now. Maybe now she would stop think about the ‘what might have beens’.

Hermione laughed to herself. She doubted that would happen. It never did, right?

*