New Beginnings, Old Wounds, Friends Old and New

Professor Sinistra was waiting in the small reception room where Harry, Hermione, Ron and Draco stepped out of the fireplace. She smiled welcomingly at them and suggested they wait to one side as she was expecting several others to be along any minute. Sure enough, it wasn't long before the flames turned the distinctive green of a Floo connection. Out stepped Justin Finch-Fletchley, who moved quickly to one side in order to step forward and steady fellow Hufflepuff Megan Jones as she stumbled through.

Draco nudged Hermione and made a tiny nod of his head towards the newcomers. Hermione took a discreet look their way to see that Justin had kept his hand somewhat possessively on Meg's elbow. She rolled her eyes; Draco was worse than her old dorm mates, Lavender and Parvati, whenever there was anything gossip worthy in the air. Instead, she attended to Crookshanks where he sat sulking in his carrier, until a cheery greeting made her look around in time to see Dean Thomas, Seamus Finnigan and Blaise Zabini come through in quick succession. Dean and Seamus chatted animatedly as they greeted the others, but Hermione was distracted by the sudden tension in her best friend's boyfriend beside her.

Draco and Blaise stood looking at each other, neither giving anything away. As the tension started to mount, Harry, Ron and Professor Sinistra became aware of the situation and watched alertly for the first sign of trouble. For a second that stretched interminably, the two Slytherins looked each other in the eye. At some invisible signal they both strode forward, grasping the wrist of the other's wand hand and slinging the free arm around the other's shoulder. From the corner of her eye, Hermione spotted both Sinistra and Harry slip their wands away as surreptitiously as they'd drawn them.

While the two young men held each other close, Ron became noticeably fidgety. Oblivious, Blaise and Draco pulled apart slightly, only to hold each other at arms length, hands on shoulders. Blaise spoke first. "You pillock! Why didn't you tell me? I thought...no, it doesn't matter what I thought, but you should have told me, trusted me, Draco."

Draco looked abashed. "I'm sorry, Blaise, so very sorry. I wanted to tell you. I needed to tell someone so badly, but I was being watched, and I didn't want you getting dragged into it too. I'm so glad to see you well, my friend, I..." A loud 'ahem' from behind Zabini interrupted Draco.

Ron watched his boyfriend as he clung to Zabini, and it was blatantly obvious he was getting jealous. Now that he had caught Draco's attention, he said, "Do you want to see where our dorms are, or are you going to be catching up out here for a while?"

Draco rolled his eyes and took a small step away from Blaise. "That's okay. There'll be plenty of time later. Let's go see what this 'Upper House' is like, shall we, love?" At this, Blaise raised his eyebrows and mouthed, 'Love?' but Draco just muttered, "Later," with a grin as he put an arm around Ron's broad shoulders and allowed himself to be dragged through a set of arched double doors into another, larger room. Zabini trailed behind, amusement plain on his face.

Ahead of them, they could hear Dean exclaiming, "Yeah, it was a surprise running into Zabini in The Leaky Cauldron like that, but we all had some time before using the Floo to get here, and he was telling us that the Patil twins are coming back too, Parvati to take her NEWTs, and Padma to do one of these new CATS, so we had a couple of butterbeers, and he was so cool, friendly like, not like when we were in school, well, I suppose we still are in school, but it's not the same... Lisa Turpin! It's good to see you again. How's the boyfriend?"

Draco leaned into Ron, perhaps a little more cosily than necessary, to ask "Does he ever take a breath?" Ron just dropped an arm around his waist and squeezed, happy to see so many of his mates still alive and thriving after everything.

Professor Sinistra called them to attention. "Students of the new Upper House, this is your common room. In the Upper house, there are no longer any divisions by Founders' Houses, so you will all socialise and study together. You will have an individual bedroom instead of the usual dormitories. There are other differences too, but it would be best to explain it to everyone together, and we expect some to arrive on the Hogwarts Express. So, go grab yourself a room, and you should ensure you are prepared to attend in the Great Hall for the Sorting and feast in about half an hour. Anything not mentioned in the start of term speech will be explained when you return here. When you are ready, the Great Hall can be accessed by going through the anteroom you arrived in, down a flight of stairs and into an antechamber. The door on the left of the chamber leads into the Great Hall from behind the staff table. Now, have you all got that? Yes? Good." With that, Sinistra left them to it.

Snape was looming in the Entrance Hall. He did not, as others supposed, get a perverse joy out of watching the faces of children lose their high-spirited grins as they crossed the threshold and spotted him. Well, perhaps a small thrill of satisfaction, but not joy. No, the reason he was stationed here was that Minerva had requested he gather the new Upper House students who had elected to arrive on the Express and show them to their quarters. As each one appeared, he gestured curtly over the milling crowd for them to join him at the bottom of the staircase. As the last one arrived, he strode down through the students, who parted before him, shrinking back so that they didn't come into contact with his billowing robes. His charges followed quickly in his wake.

As they entered into the relative peace of the Great Hall, Snape called back over his shoulder. "I'm taking you to your new quarters. As members of the Upper House, you will no longer be sorted by your old Houses, but share a tower that can be accessed via the antechamber behind the High Table. There will be various other privileges and duties that apply, but you will be informed of these later." He led them into the antechamber. "For the moment, please gather upstairs with those that have already arrived and...aah!" Snape struggled to keep his balance as an orange blur shot out of the shadowed archway at the foot of the staircase and used his shoulder as a springboard on its way to a door opposite the one the gaping students were crowded in. Just as it disappeared through an almost indistinguishable flap in the woodwork, a wail of 'Croooooks!' marginally preceded a hurtling body that ran pell-mell straight into the already unbalanced wizard to land in a tangle of limbs and billowing robes.

Snape struggled to maintain his grip on his wand as he curled forward into his assailant. Although there was a wooden floor rather than a stone one in this room, he would still rather not crack his head on it. He attempted to extricate himself, but what with the way both sets of robes tangled around his legs and a mane of hair assaulted his face while the other person writhed around on top of him, he wasn't having much success. Finally, he managed to reach up and clear the hair to look at the other's face. "Miss Granger, please stop struggling and we might get out of this situation much more quickly." Hermione looked horrified to see who it was she had landed on, but ceased her wriggling immediately. Snape tugged the robes loose from the tangle. "Now, if you could get up and off of me?" Snape drawled icily, and Hermione jerked into motion in a fresh attempt to get up. Snape gasped in pain and grabbed her by the hips to prevent further damage. "Don't! Just... roll to the side." he hissed through gritted teeth. She quickly complied, stood, and offered her hand to help him rise. Surprisingly, he took it.

Snape glared at the onlookers. "This is not a sideshow. Everyone upstairs, now! You will be required to attend the Sorting in approximately fifteen minutes. Not you, Miss Granger." Hermione stood nervously as everyone else quickly climbed upstairs. As the last one disappeared from view, Snape limped over to a window seat that was hidden behind a tapestry and sat down. He closed his eyes and gripped tightly to his thighs, uncharacteristically showing his pain.

Hermione stepped closer and held out her hand as if she was going to place it on his shoulder, but stopped short. "Are you hurt? Let me see. There might be something I can do." He snorted in an undefined way, so she reviewed the tumble to try and surmise what the problem was. He had seemed fine at first. She replayed the event in her mind – Snape grabbing at her hair, pulling the robes free, telling her to get up. Suddenly, she saw herself pulling her knees up sharply to get into a crouch, and she realised the problem. Ouch. "Um, Professor, I'm dreadfully sorry. Would you like me to get Madam Pomfrey?"

Snape had recovered enough to stand once more. He straightened his robes. "No, thank you, Miss Granger. Whilst it is the kind of injury I would rather not have had to get used to, I regret to say that I frequently suffered it during meetings in the not-distant-enough past."

Hermione gasped and whispered, "Death Eaters."

Snape answered, with a rueful quirk of the lips that might have been a smile, "No, Miss Granger. I was too well thought of there to be inflicted with such treatment. I was referring to Order meetings. Let us just say that Tonks' clumsiness is sometimes a little too convenient when I'm around."

Hermione hid her smile behind her hand. Knowing the cheeky Auror, he was probably right. Snape cleared his throat. "Miss Granger, on a more serious note, it behoves you as not only a 'hero of the Wizarding World' but one of the Upper House, to set a good example to others. Why were you hurtling down the stairs in that dangerous fashion, howling like a banshee? Could it have been anything to do with that flying fur ball that assaulted me shortly before you did?"

Hermione's eyes grew big. "Crookshanks! Where did he...I mean, I'm sorry for my behaviour, and I shall endeavour to act with a little more decorum in future. But can you tell me, sir, which way did he go? I'm worried he went off to pick a fight with Mrs Norris."

Snape smirked. "Yes, I believe Filch had a few things to say about your familiar when he heard you were coming back. Don't worry, Mrs Norris rarely leaves the walls of the castle, and your cat availed himself of the cat flap into the grounds." Hermione looked surprised. "Don't tell me that there is something you don't know about Hogwarts, Miss Granger." He gestured to the door opposite the one that was open to the Great Hall. "That door leads to the grounds, and it has a charmed cat flap that recognises familiars that belong to pupils or staff. It was put in by D...it was put in for the convenience of Professor McGonagall in her Animagus form. By his actions, Crookshanks must remember it from his time here previously. Now, if you and yours are done assaulting me, I must prepare for the Sorting. Remember what I've said about being a good example. Good day, Miss Granger." With a nod he swept out without a trace of his previous discomfort, leaving Hermione to wonder at the teasing, almost friendly, conversation they had just had, if not the professor's hesitation to mention Albus Dumbledore.

The Upper House exited the antechamber into the Great Hall, then stood around, uncertain as to where they were to be seated. Fortunately, Headmistress McGonagall spotted them and called them forward. "Hello, it is good to see so many of you taking your education so seriously. There is much yet to explain, but for now I will just tell you that you should take a seat at your new table. Have a good feast." The Headmistress gestured to where a long table had been placed in front of the raised platform where the staff table was. It was, like the High Table, set at a 90 degree angle to the four House tables. They sat themselves around it. Draco and Blaise sat with their backs to the High Table, and Ron sat on Draco's other side. Harry and Hermione opted to sit opposite them.

The tables were settling down when Hagrid came bustling in, carrying the smell of rain and wet grass with him. He gave Harry and Hermione a wink before taking his place at the staff table. A couple of seats remained empty, one between Madam Pomfrey and the Muggle Studies professor, the other closer to the middle between Professors Flitwick and Sprout. Hermione didn't realise the significance of this placing until Professor Snape sank into the chair. She blushed slightly, thinking of pain she had inadvertently caused him. Draco spotted the tinge of colour, and glanced over his shoulder to catch Snape looking down at Hermione before he turned his attention to something Professor Sprout had to say. Draco grinned evilly. "Ooo, Granger's got the hots for Tall, Dark and Snarky then? Who would have guessed?" As Ron looked back and forth between her and Snape, an incredulous look on his face, Hermione's colour rose further. Draco tried to keep a straight face, but chuckled and reached over to push Ron's dropped jaw up and close his mouth when Blaise snorked at everyone's expressions.

Harry spotted the warning signs as Hermione bristled. He hid his quick grin and took off his glasses, pretending to clean them with his napkin. As he hoped, she ignored him and unleashed a hissed torrent of indignant denial at the hapless fellows opposite her. "It's not like that! I happened to run into the man as I chased down the stairs after Crooks, that's all."

This time it was Blaise who spoke. "Yes, I heard about that." He turned to Draco and Ron with a straight face. "She might deny it, but we haven't been here an hour yet and she's throwing herself into the man's arms and climbing all over him." He raised his eyebrows significantly, and the other boys all nodded solemnly. As a strangled squeal of frustration burst from Hermione, all four young men burst into laughter, and she allowed herself to be cajoled into joining in the joke.

Although they couldn't hear what the commotion was about, the staff looked on indulgently, amusement and curiosity evident on every face except Snape's. He sat with his head forward enough for the curtains of his hair to fall and obscure most of his expression. Anyone glancing his way would have assumed he was wearing one of his customary sneers, but his expression was neutral. His thoughts, however, were far from calm. He had watched the exchange with a strange feeling of satisfaction and pride. Whatever their backgrounds, these young people were forging a new life and friendships despite everything. If this was the outcome, he could finally see the merit in his past efforts and sacrifices.

It was a bittersweet feeling. Snape had never expected to live through Voldemort's second-coming, especially after his part in his mentor's sacrifice. Dumbledore would have been proud to see the seeds he planted taking root. Snape only wished things could have worked out differently so he'd been here to see it. He pushed such maudlin musings to the back of his mind as the doors opened and Madam Hooch brought in the new crop of first years to be Sorted. He smirked. Something else Dumbledore had been right about; the players may change, but Hogwarts went on the same.

It was much later. The Sorting and feast had ended hours ago, and everyone was tucked safely into bed. Snape's late round of the Slytherin dormitories had revealed the usual amount of lost and unhappy children. Whatever the cause, he subtly cast a mild Cheering charm or the like on each of them so they could settle down. He made a mental note to check back on them to see how they were coping, then moved on unnoticed. He might not molly-coddle, but he didn't like to see them suffer unnecessarily.

With the rounds finished, he had been unable to settle. He hadn't found returning to the castle as bad as he had expected; even the return of the pupils had not affected him. The Sorting had been uneventful, the hat being quite circumspect in its song, then Minerva had stood to speak. After welcoming everyone, the Headmistress introduced first the new Upper House, then the appointment of himself and Professor Vector as Heads of Slytherin and Gryffindor respectively. The food had been served as lavishly and unimaginatively as ever, and then everyone filed off to their respective Houses and rooms. It was in the lull that followed it had finally hit him hard; Dumbledore wasn't coming back.

He'd always been there, almost a part of the castle itself. From the first time he'd stumbled forward, big-eyed and lanky-limbed, to sit under the Sorting Hat through to the thrice-damned time on the top of the Astronomy Tower, Dumbledore had always been there. And now... he wasn't. Snape couldn't settle down to read, and he was beginning to feel like the caged beast his constant pacing back and forth mimicked. He grabbed his cloak and headed off into the grounds, to clear his head.

Hermione Granger sat in the window seat of the lower antechamber. She gazed at the window, deep in thought. It was not until all the excitement had died down and everyone had started to drift off into their own rooms that it had hit her. On an intellectual level, she realised that it would be very different coming back to Hogwarts this time, but somehow she hadn't been expecting just how much things had changed. She could see it was, on the whole, much the same as when she had walked through the doors and seen the enchanted ceiling of the Great Hall for the first time. However, now her perceptions had altered. She was a young woman, a veteran of conflict, a fighter, a lover. She had felt great loss and joy, had her beliefs, trust, love, hopes and desires all tested in the conflagration. She wasn't that little girl anymore, and she couldn't help but mourn the loss.

Unwilling to imprint her mood onto her new room on the first night, Hermione remembered the seat Professor Snape had revealed earlier in the evening after their unfortunate encounter and slipped down to mull over her mixed feelings. She was sure that, once she was in the new routine, she would be fine. In the meanwhile, she watched the rivulets run down the window pane as they formed from the fine rain.

Snape strode across the lawn towards the castle, clutching his cloak close to him. He had been planning on walking along the shore of the lake for a while, but the weather was so dismal as to drive him back indoors. It wasn't that it was raining. To be honest, his mood was such that fighting along in a windswept torrent, his hair and clothes soaked through and plastered to his skin, would suit him nicely. No, it was rain typical of the season: light and persistent, hardly noticeable until you felt damp and uncomfortable. Insipid. Grey. Unable to clear his head or his mood in such drab elements, he headed back to the nearest entrance.

As Snape pushed the door open, the breeze caused the fire to flare and the lone candle to flicker. Something moved behind the half-drawn curtain, and as he latched the door, Hermione Granger leaned out to see who had entered. "Hello again, Professor. I'd ask what brings you back here, but I'm sure you would tell me it was none of my business." A small smile took any bite from her words. Snape looked back at her. After the Final Battle she had been one of the ones who brought forward evidence in his favour. He had never thanked her for that, and she had never sought him out; she had never avoided him either, he suddenly realised. He might regret it later, but just for tonight he felt the need for a little human contact.

"Indeed, Miss Granger, it is none of your business, but from your own, unexpected, presence here I'm sure you can surmise why I am... restless. May I sit?" A look of surprise crossed her face, but she quickly moved up towards the window. The seat was formed in the traditional way, low benches of stone projecting from the deep walls as they cut in to a tall narrow window. A long flat cushion pad was provided for each seat, another along the wall to lean back onto. The space narrowed as it neared the window, and so it was that Hermione found herself hemmed in when Snape sat on the end of the opposite seat and stretched his long legs out. She had never sat this close to the man before, and she studied him as she wondered at his changed demeanour.

He looked up to find her staring and shifted a little nervously. "What is it?" Snape asked. "Have I got a smut on my nose or something?"

Hermione shook her head with a gentle smile. "No, it's nothing like that. It's just... you seem different; you've changed."

He looked towards the window for a while and, not looking at her, he said, "So have you. We all have." When he said nothing more, she too turned her face to the window in silence.

A log snapped in the fireplace, and they both jumped slightly and pulled themselves out of their reverie. Unable to casually rise without asking him to move, Hermione chose to engage in some polite conversation to lighten the mood. "I must say I'm surprised to see you back here, Professor. I can't see what Prof–Headmistress McGonagall could have offered to induce you to leave your life of leisure as a war hero to suffer us 'dunderheads' again." Snape knew she meant no harm by it, but her ignorance of his situation stung and he bit back.

"Miss Granger, I must admit, I'm a little curious as to why you are here, also. You have taken your NEWTs and passed them with flying colours. It seems to me that you would be better off finding yourself a proper position, an apprenticeship even. Instead you have cloistered yourself here for another two years to gain the Ministry's sorry excuse of an alternative to a properly indentured placement. Could it be you are procrastinating, putting off your entry into the real world?" He leaned in and dropped his voice as he continued, "Do you still fear failure like you did in your third year?"

He stared into her eyes, expecting her to break into an indignant refutal. Instead, a small line appeared between her brows as she drew them in. "It seems that, although you have only just returned to Hogwarts, it is you that leads the cloistered existence, sir." Snape raised an eyebrow, but otherwise made no reaction to her comment, so Hermione went on. "Apprentice, tyro, neophyte; call it what you will, there just aren't enough suitable and genuine placements out there at the moment. A lot of Masters have been... lost, and many of the older ones remaining are unwilling to take on someone fresh out of school. On the other hand, employers are crying out for competent people – people with the ability to put book learning into practice. Again, there are losses to be covered." Snape gave a sharp nod of understanding. Not all losses happened through conflict. There had been more after Voldemort's defeat as collaborators both with and without The Mark were detained, leaving still more gaps to be filled.

Hermione sat up a little straighter, and he was reminded of how she would do this before upbraiding miscreants when she was a prefect. He suspected it was a posture Messrs Potter and Weasley were more than familiar with. Probably the young Mr Malfoy as well, now he spent so much time hanging onto – sorry, around – Weasley. When she began to speak again, her tone was a little sharper, too. "I agreed to take this new qualification for several reasons. For one thing, there is the need to show I'm not just a know-it-all bookworm, but a competent if not skilled practitioner as well." She had fixed him with a challenging look as she said this, and he inclined his head to both acknowledge his culpability for labelling her a know-it-all, and to hide the smile that threatened to breakout at her comment. "Then there is the aforementioned lack of apprenticeship opportunities – specially for Muggle-borns. What is more, two years is the maximum length of study and assessment; it can be completed in six months if necessary. Finally..." Hermione's voice dropped, and she twisted the fabric of her robe nervously before she continued, talking into her lap, "I suppose there is some truth in your suggestion that I'm putting things off."

Snape snorted in surprise at her admission and, misunderstanding his reaction, she rose to defend herself. "Don't you think that, with everything that has happened over the last couple of years, I should be able to take the chance to step away from the pressures of becoming part of the 'real world'? A chance to stay cloistered here with my friends and try to grab a little of what we lost through the actions of Voldemort and his ilk?" Her hands were gripping tightly to her robes now, and Snape leaned forward to loosen her fingers and smooth the abused fabric. If she was surprised by his actions, she didn't show it, but looked at him questioningly.

Picking up one of her unprotesting hands in his, he held it between his palms as he spoke gently to her. "No, Miss Granger. I would be the last person to deny you this respite. Just don't let it become a form of self-immuration like... some people have." A moment of quiet understanding passed between them, ending when she gave a slight squeeze of her hand in his. He carefully released it back into her lap, then lightened the mood. "So, are you telling me that a determined young woman, friend of the Boy-Who-Lived-To-Annoy-Me, has had no offers of an apprenticeship?"

Hermione smiled. "I did say genuine, Professor. Surely you know me well enough that I'd not take a placement that wouldn't offer me less than a full opportunity to prove how much of an overachiever I am, rather than the easy ride of a celebrity?"

Neither noticed the dark figure that had been standing on the stairway slip silently back up the stairs as they continued to banter lightly for a while before parting.

AN:Okay, I will admit right now, my brain was hijacked. Firstly, Snape-in-my-head had a few issues he wanted to air (he didn't think I made him deep and meaningful enough, but at least I managed to subvert that brooding-in-the-pouring-rain thing :D). Secondly, he got Granger-in-my-head to join him and try to set this up as something more than a friendship between them - wait and see is all I can say.

Thank you Tempest of Dreams for leaping in to help with the beta work, and to Brian for lightening my mood with 'I didn't know Voldemort had an ilk. Does it have antlers?'