Letters & Decisions

Letters and Decisions

She had been putting it off for as long as she possibly could, but when Lucius and Narcissa had asked her if she was going to enjoy her summer in Marbh-clach, she had reluctantly admitted to not having been to the mansion. The look of surprise on their faces let her know that they had assumed that she had spent part of her Christmas in Elgol, the small coastal town where Snape’s manor was.

Feeling a little uncomfortable and worried that she would be questioned even further, Hermione excused herself and slipped out through the side door. Wrapping her arms around her body, she hurried through the corridors, hoping to hide in her office. She was glad to escape; she would not have to admit that she had yet to transfer anything from Snape’s account to hers.

She could not bring herself to claim his assets or anything else; it seemed so… final.

In her head, she could hear her former professor saying drolly, Silly, little girl. As if seven years isn’t final enough.

No matter how much she tried to make herself believe the truth—and it was the truth—it just felt so wrong. Even after seven years, she had difficultly believing he was gone; she kept waiting for him to storm through the halls and berate her for even daring to teach his classes.

As she climbed the steps from her classroom to her office, she could not help but wonder what he would think of her now. Would he still think of her as a silly know-it-all, some show-off trying to gain attention, or would he be proud of her for having the intelligence and capabilities of teaching? Would he think she was pathetic for only now doing something with her life, or praise her for going for her masters in Potions? Would he congratulate her and think of her as an equal?

As the door softly clicked to behind her, she pulled back her chair and sank into the soft leather.

It really doesn’t matter what Snape would have thought about me…

She picked up a quill and dipped the tip in the black ink, bringing it to the paper and scratching out her greeting to Gringotts. She needed to schedule a time to come in and fill out the paper work to transfer Snape’s funds and get the keys to his home.

…After all, Severus Snape is dead.

The reply had come sometime during classes, but as soon as she had seen the scroll on her desk, she opened it immediately. Her appointment was for Friday, during the time she would normally have lunch—not that she minded; she wanted to get the whole ordeal over with as soon as possible.

However, that was not what was on her mind as she stared at the powder-pink potion. Last time, stirring it after adding the final ingredient made it explode and coat her office in globs of magenta; now she just stared. She had turned the heat down on the burner, sat on her stool and gazed hopefully into the simmering cauldron. The potion seemed fine; it was not bubbling violently or turning funny colors and it had been stable for a little over two hours.

Hermione was quite sure that the potion was perfect, but there was no real way of testing the potion without sending it to her mother for a trial. So after ladling out copious amounts of the thick gel into a vial, she made her way back to her desk and shuffled through the mess on the desktop until she found some sheets of blank parchment.

Dear Mum,

Hermione

She studied the letter for a few moments, and wondered about rewriting it and telling her mother why she wanted to see her. Deciding against it, she rolled up the scroll and tied it with a black ribbon before passing it on to Phantom, the light Great Grey owl that Draco and Susan had given her for her birthday. “I promise that I will have lots of treats when you come back,” she said, giving the large bird a gentle stroke before he took off.

Closing her eyes, she leaned her head back. So far her day had not been too bad; so far was the operative term, though. She still had one more class, but she knew it could not be as bad as the earlier accident with the second year Hufflepuffs. Of course, she still had one more meal in the Great Hall left to go; after the mention of Severus at lunch, she realized that dinner could easily make this day the worst in history.

Her eyes snapped open and she tried to put the man from her mind, focusing on the forest beyond her window; a shadow could be seen rising in the distance.

She had just pushed to her feet, when the heavy door to her office flew open.

“Hermione?”

The Gryffindor witch suppressed a moan, and turned to face Susan Bones-Malfoy. “Yes, Susan?”

The redhead gave her a half pleading-half apologetic look. “Um, I’m sorry, but there has been a tiny accident in Charms with the second years. Madam Pomfrey needs some more of the Soothing Salve.”

Hermione nodded and moved toward her cauldron. “Tell her I will bring it down as soon as it is through.” She did not even glance up when her friend departed, focusing solely on the task at hand. “At least this should keep my mind off Severus.”

Far outside her window, a bellowing shriek echoed through the air, causing the witch to jump in surprise, her fingers loosening on the beaker. She winced as the glass smashed on the floor. “Bloody dragon.”