Chapter 8: But Some Things Remain the Same

Tom Granger was keeping a close eye on his daughter since she had returned home a week ago. He would be fooling himself if he tried to pretend that he wasn't worried about her.

At first, he had been concerned when she had turned up on their doorstep with a man much older than she was... and then immensely relieved when it had turned out to be not like that. This wasn't to say that he didn't trust his daughter's judgement in choosing her friends. But it would be just like Hermione to choose a partner who – in her opinion – needed to be 'helped' or 'fixed'.

Like mother, like daughter...

Alexandra's conservative, slightly snobbish parents – her mother in particular – had not approved of their daughter marrying a cabinet maker's son. Then again, they hadn't really approved of her wanting to become a dentist, either. If she hadn't wanted to follow her father and brother into the law, the least she could have done was become a real doctor, a nice family GP and not a plumber for other people's mouths, dealing with nasty things like fillings, extractions and plaque. Dentistry had been Alexandra Fairfax's rebellion, and at university, she had met Tom Granger. At the time, Tom had been very much one of the lads, albeit that unlike most of their peers, he received a bursary. She had seen the heart beneath the unpolished surface and leapt at the chance to clean him up. Almost thirty years later, she had more or less succeeded. At least on the surface.

'What are Harry and Ron up to these days? Are you three as close as you used to be?' Alexandra asked one morning at breakfast.

'Harry and Ron are both working for the Ministry as Aurors. But as far as I know, Ron plans to quit eventually and help George at the joke shop the twins set up after leaving school.'

'The Ministry? I remember that Molly was so proud when one of her older sons got a job at the Ministry. Did Harry and Ron finish school?'

Tom could almost see Hermione roll her eyes even through his newspaper.

'No, Mum. Not many students from my year went back to Hogwarts to finish their NEWTs. The Ministry almost begged Harry and Ron to join them, and I heard that even St Mungo's relaxed their normal entry requirements for a couple of the girls in Ravenclaw who helped Madam Pomfrey a lot during their last year.'

'So, what do you think you'll do now that you're feeling better?'

'I'm not better, Mum. I still can't do magic most of the time.'

Alexandra pushed a little bit further. 'Well, what would you like to do when your magic comes back?'

Hermione frowned. 'I don't know. I thought I was about to spend the next few months of my life searching for you and Dad. I never thought I'd find you so quickly.'

'Are you still interested in campaigning for the rights of magical creatures, or do you think you'd prefer to join your friends at the Ministry?'

'Neither? Can you please leave it alone, Mum? You're beginning to sound just like Professor McGonagall.'

Although Tom could sense that his wife was absolutely itching to dig deeper and get to the bottom of Hermione's reluctance to talk about the future, Alexandra held her tongue and decided to bide her time.

Thinking about their guest, Tom was forced to acknowledge a very healthy respect for Severus Snape. Not just on the basis of what Hermione had told them about him being a hero and all that but because he was a good sort of bloke. He wasn't the easiest of houseguests; he was occasionally awkward about ordinary pleasantries and liked to keep to his room, but he was always very helpful with chores and using magic to make their lives a bit easier when he could. However, what really made Snape a good man in Tom's eyes was the patience and dedication with which he assisted Hermione.

The first time Tom had seen one of their magic sessions, he had been quite alarmed that the school he had sent his daughter to for her secondary education had seen fit to inflict this man on eleven-year-olds.

Severus had been seated in a comfortable chair in the back garden, one in which Alexandra often used to read when it got cooler in the afternoons. Hermione had been standing in the middle of the little patch of grass that passed for a 'lawn' at their place, waving her wand at various harmless pieces of garden debris that had fallen from the trees at the edges of the garden. Observing Severus' tense stance and deep frown, Tom had been certain that the man was doing nothing but taunt and criticise Hermione.

'Is that how you hold your wand? Do not waste my time by forcing me to repeat elementary wand use lessons, Miss Granger.'

'You don't have to help me, you know,' Hermione had shot back. 'I can do the exercises you've described to me very well by myself.'

'Very well, do the first one. Levitate that stick for three minutes.'

After twenty minutes of the stick half-heartedly picking itself off the ground before dropping again, even Tom was beginning to wonder what end the exercise was supposed to achieve when Hermione really lost her temper.

At her enraged half-snarl, half-shriek, the stick she had been trying to levitate burst into a fireball of blue flames, a fire far larger than the stick should reasonably have been able provide the fuel for. However, before Tom could even think about running out the kitchen door with the fire extinguisher, Severus had wordlessly whipped his own wand out and contained the fire within a sort of bubble he cast around it.

The glare Severus had shot in Hermione's direction after the fire had burned itself out was truly chilling. 'That is enough for today, I think,' he had said coldly. 'Until you can prove to me that you possess the control – over both your magic and your emotions – not to burn down your parents' home and worldly possessions, I believe I will continue to supervise your exercises. Your wand?' He had held out his hand, and even from his vantage point in the kitchen, Tom had seen that his expression brooked no disobedience.

Hermione had thrust her wand in his outstretched hand without a single word of complaint. After she had stormed inside and gone to her room to sulk in peace, Tom had noticed that Severus had sat outside for a long time playing with Hermione's wand, occasionally giving it an experimental wave himself and shaking his head.

He had looked so focused, as if he was trying to solve a puzzle and the last step, before it all fell into place, was just beyond his reach. After returning to the house, Severus had briefly informed Tom that he was going out for a spot of shopping in the magical world. He had seemed restless; Tom got a strong impression that Hermione's teacher was just as frustrated as she was.

That very afternoon while Severus had been gone, Tom had overheard Hermione approach Alexandra and ask about working in the Muggle world. Perhaps she could be a receptionist at the new clinic? Alexandra hesitated, not really giving an answer either way. They already had enough receptionists, and the ones they had were mostly bilingual to best serve the ethnically diverse clientele of their practice in Sydney's west. Later in the evening, Alexandra had admitted to her husband that she wasn't sure what to do about Hermione's idea that she could rejoin the Muggle world.

Tom himself was in two minds about it.

On the one hand, it would be wonderful to have his daughter back, doing things he knew how to teach her. However, the other side of that coin was that Hermione was different. She had taken a very permanent step into a new world the moment she had opened her Hogwarts letter. She should be doing fantastic things like making letters fly and blowing things up, not answering phone calls and scheduling appointments.

It might be different if she had any skills that would enable her to undertake a more stimulating occupation in the Muggle world, but Hermione didn't always realise how very magical she had become over the last seven years. It was simply part of her. One minute, she'd be telling her mother that she wanted to learn to cook the ordinary way, but in the next breath she would be engaging in a heated debate with Severus about what herbs and goodness knew what other exotic substances would be best to deter the strange pixies in the garden. Eventually, unable to really come to any satisfactory conclusion about how they could help, Tom and Alexandra had determined that they would not talk about the future until Hermione did, but that they would try to dissuade her from denying her magic and burying herself in a menial Muggle job, if possible.

Dissuading Hermione, once she had made up her mind on something, proved as difficult as it had been when she was five and she had wanted to wear the pink dress to shops, not the yellow one. When Hermione had brought up the receptionist idea again over breakfast one morning and Alexandra had gently explained that this would not be possible, Hermione hadn't protested, but she had withdrawn into herself and hadn't talked to her parents again until dinner time.

By mid-week, Hermione obviously made some progress in regaining her magic. Tom watched as she successfully managed to keep the stick floating in the air for three, four, five minutes, and her radiant smile when she succeeded. But he also witnessed how her face fell the minute the feather dropped or combusted. In spite of her magical progress, however, Hermione did not stop badgering her parents about re-entering the Muggle world in various ways and guises.

'Dad, can you teach me to drive?'

'You want to learn to drive a car?'

She nodded.

Tom was stumped. 'But that time you went to the Weasley's, you told me that you could just teleport there! Why would you want to drive if you can teleport?'

'It's not teleportation, Dad, it's called Apparation, and right now I'm not supposed to do it. I've lost my magic, remember?'

'But, you will be able to do it again, won't you?' Tom asked slowly. He wasn't against teaching her to drive. Far from it, in fact, but he wanted to know if her heart was really in it, or whether it was just another way that she had found to wilfully ignore her magic. 'I don't really know how it works down here, but I know that I can't just teach you to drive if you don't have a learner's licence; I see those yellow L-plates on people's cars everywhere. Does the Muggle government even know you're here?'

She shrugged. 'I have a magical ID they'll accept. So, if I get the licence, you'll teach me to drive?'

Tom grunted. Her flippant tone as she ensured him that the authorities would accept her unusual identification card rubbed him the wrong way. He had forgiven his daughter, but he had by no means forgotten just what magic could make Muggles accept. 'Make some enquiries into whether you can legitimately get a licence, and we'll talk about it then.'

Despite the constant small setbacks, it only became clear that Hermione's magical progress came at a price when, one morning, Hermione failed to make it downstairs for breakfast. Since their daughter was usually a morning person, Alexandra went upstairs at about half nine to see what was the matter. Her panicked shouting brought Tom up the stairs at a run.

'Tom! Come quick! Hermione's not well!'

Running up the stairs as fast as he could, Tom understood Alexandra's distress when he saw Hermione. She was lying in bed, but from the expression on her face, even turning her head to look at her father was excruciatingly painful. Tears ran down her face, and slight tremors shuddered through her body every few moments.

'What can we do for you, darling? Would taking your medicine early help?'

Hermione tried to shake her head but winced in pain halfway through the small movement. Alexandra was at a loss. She turned to her husband.

'She says she's feeling really hot, Tom, but I touched her forehead, and I can't feel anything unusual. Severus isn't back yet.'

As Alexandra moved away, Tom gently touched his hand to his daughter's forehead. He, too, couldn't feel anything unusual, but he kept his hand there in the hope that Hermione might derive some comfort from it.

'Dad?' She was practically whispering. 'Where's Professor Snape?'

Snape had gone to visit a friend in town immediately after breakfast. Said he'd only be gone for half an hour.

That had been an hour ago.

Just at that moment, all three Grangers heard the door open downstairs.

'Is anyone home?'

Alexandra was out on the landing as soon as she heard the key scrape in the lock. 'Severus? Is that you? Hermione's not well. We don't know what to do.'

In no time at all, Severus was kneeling at Hermione's bedside while Alexandra and Tom looked on. While Tom stayed quiet, observing, Alexandra babbled on about everything she had seen since she went up to check on Hermione fifteen minutes ago.

'...Said she was hot, but neither Tom or I could feel any heat. If anything, she's a bit cool to the touch given how warm it is up here, and she says taking her medicine won't do a thing. Is there anyone else we could ask for help? A magical doctor, perhaps?'

'I see,' Snape murmured. He had initially pulled his wand out, but now he carefully touched the back of his hand to Hermione's forehead, immediately pulling away as though stung.

'Are you all right? What did you feel?' Alexandra asked.

Another time, Tom might have been amused at his wife's clear conflict between hoping that her guest was unharmed and wanting to know what was wrong with her daughter now.

Severus ignored her. He had started waving his wand, muttering unintelligible things under his breath. After what felt like an age, he put his wand away and addressed Hermione.

'I did not think that the exercises were draining you so quickly.'

It was not a question.

Hermione's voice, still very soft, was dull as she explained. 'I went to the motor registry with Mum yesterday afternoon and had to Confund the woman so that she would register me for a driver's licence. Turns out there's a requirement that you have to have been here six months to apply.'

'You have another wand?' Snape's tone was sharp now, but Tom took no issue with it. He had watched his daughter hand her wand back to her teacher after every magic practice session this week, ostensibly for her own good so that she wouldn't be tempted to practice magic without supervision before she was ready. On her own head be it if she had broken the rules which were supposed to protect her.

Surprisingly, Hermione smiled slightly in response. 'No, I did it wandless.'

Whatever Hermione's thoughts on this accomplishment, Snape looked far from impressed. In fact, Tom rather thought that the only thing stopping the man – still very much a schoolmaster in manner, no matter what he said about having given it up – from giving his temper free rein was the fact that her parents were in the room and so he was trying very, very hard to be civil. A few moments later, after Severus had managed to smooth the glare on his face, though his jaw was still rather tightly set, he explained the situation to Tom and Alexandra.

'It appears that Hermione's illness has flared up as a result of a completely unnecessary use of advanced magic yesterday afternoon. While she shows the same symptoms of magical exhaustion that I saw in her the last time she did such a foolish thing, she is also running a magical fever. I should call on a Healer to check on her and confirm my assessment.'

Without another word, he turned on his heel. The moment he was outside the room, he turned on the spot and disappeared with a small pop!

All things considered, Tom was in the mood to be rather forgiving of Severus' curtness.

Enough was enough.

Chronically ill or not, the moment Hermione was feeling well enough to go about her business as usual, she would be hearing a few choice words from her father, too.

Several hours later, after John Sanders had very kindly come to check on Hermione and prescribed her a couple of potions to boost her strength, Severus collapsed back into one of the Granger's garden chairs with a groan. He hadn't brewed the potions himself, trusting John's word that those sold by an apothecary in the Lowest Basement were of excellent quality, but he still felt completely drained.

What a day.

As much as he had been disinclined to meet with Julius Hardwicke, the friend of John's who had sent him the letter, Severus thanked Merlin, Morgana and every great wizard and witch he could think of that he had agreed. Julius had turned out to be as genuine and unthreatening as his letter, even if it had taken Severus a good three-quarters of an hour to relax in the older man's company. It turned out that while Julius had asked a few rather abstract political questions about the war and his friends in England who had been involved in it, halfway through their time together, Julius had revealed that he had been to school with Severus' mother and spoken fondly of his school days and the work he was doing at the university for the rest of the meeting.

Severus exhaled slowly. If nothing else, that small favour had also made it easier to summon John to check on Hermione. The Grangers had been very helpful there. As soon as Alexandra had grasped the situation, she had insisted that John and his wife come around for dinner the next week. The date was set for Tuesday.

'We almost called her Elizabeth Rose.'

Severus almost jumped out of his skin when he heard Tom's voice.

'What?'

'Hermione. Before she was born, Alexandra had picked out a name. She was going to be Elizabeth Rose Granger.'

Severus realised that he must have inadvertently pulled a face when Tom chuckled.

'Yes, it wouldn't have suited her, would it?'

Severus nodded, relaxing back into his chair as Tom did the same on the other one. The other man obviously had something to say, and Severus supposed that listening was the least he could do.

After a few moments, during which both men just lay in the shade and stared at clouds, sure enough, Tom continued. 'Point is, as soon as we met Hermione properly, we knew that she wasn't going to be an Elizabeth, or a Louisa, or a Susan.'

Severus had half a mind to point out that not all witches born of magical families were Mildreds and Etheldredas, but he understood what Tom meant. Hermione was not the daughter the Grangers had expected, and from the start, they had obviously made a real effort to try to embrace that.

'We did our best when she was a child, despite all the rather odd things she did when she was given anything besides books to play with – it was almost a relief to us when she got her Hogwarts letter. Magic, once we believed in it, seemed to be a perfect explanation for it all, and judging by the letters she sent home, she loved every minute she spent at that school. For once in her life, she was where she belonged. And even if there were... well, difficulties for her fitting in sometimes, she really liked all the things she was learning and seemed to really excel.'

Severus found himself nodding along, quite sure he knew where this was going. It was something he had been thinking a lot about himself, lately.

'The problem is, now that Hermione is back here with us and she's having problems with her magic, she seems to actually want to turn herself into a Muggle. Alex and I are trying to be supportive, but we just... We are not in a position, I suppose, to get her to see reason and give her a push back into the wizarding world. We can't even have a conversation on any magical topic without revealing our glaring ignorance. I'm not asking for your help, as such; you've already helped us so much by bringing her here and doing those lessons with her. It's just that we're at our wits end about what to do with her from here. I know she's an adult now and can making her own decisions, but she seems to have lost her way a bit... It's hard that we can't even help point her in the right direction...' Tom trailed off, obviously unsure what exactly he was asking.

'And you wish you didn't have to ask me for advice, but you don't really have a choice,' Severus finished quietly.

Both men sat in silence for a long moment after that – Tom rather glum and Severus wondering whether the idea he had been toying with might just work...

He decided that it was worth a try.

'As it happens, I do have an idea.'

'Where are we?'

Hermione puffed a little as she struggled to keep up with Professor Snape's long-legged stride. He had insisted that she accompany him to a meeting today with whom he had termed 'an associate'. She had a strong suspicion that her parents were in on his plan as well. Her mother had made a point of buying her a new blouse and skirt for this meeting 'so at least you won't look like you've been traipsing around the countryside for a year, sweetheart'.

At exactly ten minutes to eleven on the morning of this mysterious meeting, Severus Apparated them both into the middle of a dense a clump of bushes. He appeared totally unconcerned as he brushed the leaves off their clothes with a spell before pulling Hermione out through the bushes to a small fountain, then further down a path to the edge of a very wide, sweeping driveway. When she saw what lay at the end of the road, Hermione's mouth opened in a small 'o' of surprise.

Whereas most of the greenery that she had seen in Australia looked a bit washed out to her eyes, used as she was to the lush English countryside, rising up before her was an immaculately kept lawn, split exactly in two by a wide path. However, what really intrigued Hermione was what lay at the end of that lawn.

A castle.

Not a castle of the Hogwarts variety; it was much smaller and more regular in shape. In truth, it probably wasn't even a castle. It was, however, a big Tudor Gothic-style building, made of huge blocks of golden sandstone. The whole place was rather eerily quiet, Hermione thought, looking around to find clues as to whom this building belonged to.

Jogging a bit to catch up with the professor, Hermione pulled on his sleeve.

'Where are we?'

'The University of Sydney.'

'A Muggle university? Where are all the students? Whom are we here to see?'

'I believe the students are off enjoying their summer holidays, so wherever they are, it isn't here. As for whom we are here to see, his name is Professor Hardwicke, and we actually have to Apparate directly to his study. I merely brought you this way because I thought you would appreciate a look at the buildings. Think of it as a small reminder of home.'

While they had been talking, they had made their way across the lawn and into one of the blessedly cool stone archways. The sun in this part of the world was really very harsh.

Just as she caught a glimpse of more grass on the other side of the arch, in the middle what looked like shady cloisters, Hermione found herself held tightly as Severus promptly Apparated them both to meet Professor Hardwicke.

'Welcome!'

Hermione blinked and struggled against a strong urge to cover her ears.

The man who greeted them did not speak particularly loudly, but Hermione's skull was ringing with the sound of bells clanging very nearby. Clanging was perhaps too strong a word. Another person might have described it as melodic, well-timed chiming, but still, it seemed to come from all around them, echoing off the walls in such a way that every new ring! was piercing.

'Ah, the bells are a bit much, aren't they? They just started. I forgot that I would have visitors today. I quite like the sound, but those not accustomed to them often find them too loud.'

The man waved his wand and the room fell quiet.

'Severus! Welcome back, my good fellow. And this must be Miss Hermione Granger! Very pleased to meet you. I am Professor Julius Hardwicke. As no doubt Severus told you, I teach Magical History and Wizarding Relations here at the university. Please, take a seat while I get a pot of tea on the boil.'

Hermione smiled at this warm welcome. Her hand was firmly grasped as she was ushered forward to one of the chairs in front of Professor Hardwicke's desk. It was a very odd-shaped room, now that she was at leisure to examine it. The study was triangular and filled with very large rolls of parchment. Maps, perhaps.

Her mind whirred with questions. The first one that popped out was, 'I didn't realise that wizards could go to university.' When both men turned to look at her, she blushed and tried to explain. 'University wasn't something we discussed during career interviews at Hogwarts. I was under the impression that for the vast majority of magical professions, training happens on the job.'

It was Professor Hardwicke who answered. 'Ah, you're right of course, my dear. Most witches and wizards don't bother with university. OWLs are ordinary wizarding level, after all, and everything beyond that is just icing on the cake.'

Why he was smiling so broadly, Hermione couldn't say.

'Professor Hardwicke and his associates take only a handful of students every year,' Severus explained. He picked a crystal paperweight off Hardwicke's desk and peered at it intently. In Hermione's opinion, he wasn't doing a very good impression of casual indifference, but she was more interested in why he was trying. He continued, 'A few students study by correspondence, but for the most part, the university is simply a research hub for a variety of independent projects. The Australian Ministry regularly consults with the various academics who study here. It's not dissimilar to Oxbridge back home.'

Hermione's eyes bulged as she took in this new information. 'They teach magic at Oxford and Cambridge?'

Surely he was having her on.

Professor Hardwicke shook his head. 'Not Oxford and Cambridge, Miss Granger. Despite the problems I hear you've been having lately, you aren't a Muggle. Witches and wizards study at Oxbridge.' He cleared his throat rather awkwardly. 'Of course, I didn't get in, so I can't tell you much about it...'

At the reference to her 'problems', Hermione's confidence shrank. Smaller and smaller, she almost wished she hadn't asked.

'...But then, other rumours say the campus is situated in Wales, so no one except the scholars really knows...'

Why had she asked? She had no hope of getting in. Not anymore.

Professor Hardwicke noticed her withdrawal. 'Come now, my girl! Not going straight up to Oxbridge isn't the end of the world, and you needn't be ashamed of your illness, you know. Courage in adversity! Weren't you a Gryffindor?'

Hermione tried her utmost not to look pathetic and woeful. She didn't need to try too hard. Hardwicke was now pacing around the room, still speaking.

'As Severus might have told you, I was quite anxious to meet you when I heard that you were here, Hermione. I've heard so much about you from my friend John Sanders. Now, tell me, what do you plan to do while you are here in Sydney?'

Hermione blinked. 'I'm afraid I don't really have a plan, Professor.'

As he turned to face her, Hardwicke's eyebrows twitched with excitement. Hermione hated the fact that whatever he was leading up to, she would have to disappoint him. She thought she may as well try to head him off before he even got to the point. 'I don't know what you've been told about me, Professor, but since my illness...' Even speaking the words made her chest constrict in sadness and shame. '... Since my illness, I haven't really been fit to live in the magical world. I couldn't even have come here today if Professor Snape hadn't brought me Side-Along.'

Hardwicke frowned, but it appeared to be a frown of deep thought rather than defeat. He opened and closed his mouth a few times, obviously searching for the right words.

Severus chose this time to cut in. 'I have spoken to Professor Hardwicke about your condition.' In stark contrast to the kindly Hardwicke, he was more than usually curt. 'We believe that with a few alterations to your coursework and schedule, there is no reason why you could not study here. As a student at the university, you could also gain access to the vast array of student services. Professor Hardwicke has a few colleagues who may be able to help you regain control over your magic.'

Hardwicke's frown cleared. He nodded enthusiastically. 'Oh, yes. I haven't actually spoken to anyone yet, but Professor Chang in the East Asian Magics department is very knowledgeable in magical energy blocks, and he loves a challenge. It's all very difficult to understand what he does using the classic Greco-Roman magical theory we were taught,' he shrugged, 'but I can't deny that whatever it is seems to work for many people.'

Hermione struggled to breathe. She was torn between outrage that they had so obviously concocted this plan without consulting her and ecstatic joy that they had thought of a plan that would allow her to study. At a university!

She could already see so many advantages to studying in Australia. No one here seemed to know who she was. No one she met had any expectations regarding her ability or intellect. Studying magic, even if it was only theory, would also give her something to do while her parents were at work. Hermione also knew that just being able to tell herself and her friends back home that she was doing something in Australia would make her feel better. Almost normal. She hadn't wanted to go back to Hogwarts; the memories of the battle were still too fresh. She wasn't even sure that she wanted to visit, let alone live in the castle again, but here was a chance for something similar, yet completely different, at the same time. If only there weren't also many disadvantages to studying abroad...

She refused to look at either man but concentrated very hard on her hands tightly clasped in her lap. 'Thank you for all your trouble, but I don't think I can study here,' she stated quietly. 'Even if you can get around the fact that I can't really use magic right now, I never sat my NEWTs, so I'm not even theoretically proficient in a lot of subjects, and I'd need to talk to my parents about the fees...'

She was interrupted by Snape.

'Miss Granger, we could spend hours here discussing the details, but suffice it to say that none of those things are as insurmountable a problem as you seem to think. The question is, do you want to take up Professor Hardwicke's kind offer?'

His challenging tone caused Hermione to bristle with indignation. Was he trying to guilt her into acceptance her by stressing the kindness of Professor Hardwicke's offer? Why hadn't he warned her that this was coming?

She hands clenched tightly in her lap. None of this had been her idea, but now that it had fallen her way, this decision was hers. Her life, her choice. And she was not going to sit and let an intimidating ex-teacher back her into a corner!

Hermione was just about to let loose a scathing retort when she looked up and saw Hardwicke's expression. The man looked totally bewildered by her surprise and discomfort. No doubt he had expected her to be a bit more prepared to hear his kind offer. In an obvious attempt to close this gap in expectations, he took advantage of Hermione's pause to ask a question of his own.

'Is there anything at all you would especially like to study with us while you are here in Sydney, Hermione? When I spoke to Severus a few days ago, he gave me the impression that you enjoyed learning, but he seemed quite concerned that you hadn't shown interest in any particular topic lately. We would love to have you here, you know. Even if only for a little while.'

Successfully distracted from her anger at being made to feel manipulated and foolish in her ignorance, Hermione processed the information that she had been given. Professor Snape wouldn't lie, so it really must be possible for her to study here, if she so wished.

Did she wish to?

A slow smile spread over her face.

'If you could give me an idea of the courses I would be able to take, Professor Hardwicke, I would like to think it over a little before accepting. Perhaps we could meet again in a week's time? Will that leave long enough to make any preparations before term starts? I'm sure Professor Snape wouldn't mind bringing me back here.'

Even before she had finished speaking, Hermione felt something deep within her settle into place. It wasn't her magic, exactly, but she felt more alive, more in control, and more powerful than she had been since the beginning of her illness. And, as soon as they were out of earshot of Hardwicke's study, along with conveying her gratitude, she was going to give a certain meddling, utterly infuriating ex-professor a piece of her mind.

AN: Thank you for all your kind comments – I apologise for the delay in getting the chapters up. Many thanks also to my beta, Juno Magic.