Same Morning.
Friday, Sept. 13
Harry hadn’t been lying about his bathroom when he’d said it was kickass, and even though Hermione didn’t appreciate his language, she did have to admit that the bathroom was quite impressive. Especially when one took into account the fact that all of this was in a tiny tent sitting in The Forbidden Forest.
She enjoyed a long soak in the nearly pool-sized bathtub, then donned her magically cleaned clothes. After that, she brushed her teeth with one of Harry’s spare (unused) toothbrushes, then scowled through the required quarter-hour it took to beat her hair down from struck-by-lightning messy to just-enough-to-go-out-in-public messy, before exiting the bathroom.
Harry was waiting for her in the palour. Well, actually he was trying to convince Hedwig to get up from her pillow, but the owl didn’t seem to care very much about what Harry had to say.
“She still won’t get up?” Hermione asked in surprise. They’d both been at this since before she went into the bathroom.
“Oh, you’re done?” Harry asked, and when Hermione nodded, he said to Hedwig: “There, Hedwig, you see? Hermione’s done. Now get off that pillow or else I’ll collapse the tent with you still inside.”
The owl, completely unfazed by the threat, simply snuggled deeper into the ever vibrating pillow.
According to Harry, he’d bought that pillow for himself, but Hedwig had lain on it once and summarily claimed it as hers. It was so bad that Harry got pecked whenever he tried to touch it.
“What would happen if you collapse the tent with her in it?” Hermione asked curiously.
“Oh, nothing. She just won’t be able to leave,” Harry said, before frowning at the owl in suspicion. “But you would probably love that, wouldn’t you?”
Hermione looked at her watch, it was 11:05 a.m. Lunch was already five minutes in, and Potions class began in less than an hour.
After missing Astronomy the night before, Hermione had no intention of missing any more classes. Even if it was Potions.
Walking forward, she knelt beside Hedwig.
“Hedwig, we have to go now,” Hermione said gently, “or we might be late to Potions. And you know what Snape might do if we’re late to his class.”
Hedwig popped an eye open at Hermione’s words, and the girl felt a spark of hope.
“I know,” Hermione said excitedly, as she got an idea, “why don’t Harry and I make you something nice to put the pillow on? That way you’ll be able to use it even in the dorms if we set it up next to Harry’s bed.”
Hedwig’s other eye opened as she seemed to give that offer a long, hard think.
Right as it seemed like she was about to come to a decision, however, Harry said, “Oh, just take the offer already, you bloody diva.”
Hermione sighed, and it had been going so well too.
On the bright side, Hedwig left the pillow.
*****
The closer they got to the castle, the more Hermione’s worry over the inevitable punishment they would receive flared up again.
Sure, maybe she believed Harry when he said they wouldn’t get expelled, but there were many other punishments they could receive for their truancy; detention, deduction of points, even a suspension, to name a few. Heck, Prof. McGonagall might even—Hermione swallowed—even send a letter to her parents.
Harry took her hand. “Calm down, Hermione. Jesus, you’re making me nervous.”
Hermione tried to follow Harry’s advice, she really did.
When they walked into The Great Hall, it was already 11:25, meaning that most of the students and faculty who would be showing up for lunch already had. Or, in other words, the hall was already full of students.
Hermione didn’t notice any of that though, what she noticed was how Prof. McGonagall’s eyes trained on them the moment they walked in, and the witch almost immediately got up and began to approach them.
She did not look happy.
“Okay, maybe we should worry a little bit,” Harry said nervously.
Interestingly enough, now that she could see the worst coming, Hermione didn’t feel so scared anymore, she simply wanted to take her punishment, whatever it may be, and put this whole thing behind her. So, grabbing Harry’s hand, she pulled him forward resolutely, subconsciously aiming for where she could see their friends at the Gryffindor table.
Whether by design or happenstance, they and Prof. McGonagall met almost exactly where the Gryffindor first-years were seating.
Before the witch could even get a word out, Harry said, “Why professor, you’re looking lovely this morning. Say, did you do something with your hair?”
The look Prof. McGonagall gave Harry would probably make babies cry.
“Mr. Potter, Miss Granger, do you mind explaining to me why you missed dinner, Astronomy, and failed to return to your dorms last night?” the stern witch asked in a deceptively calm voice that was only belied by the storm in her eyes.
It was only after Prof. McGonagall finished her question that Hermione realised that they couldn’t tell her the truth, and neither herself nor Harry had even considered that they might need to lie about their whereabouts all this time, so, naturally, Hermione reached for the easiest lie available.
“We were studying.”
Even Harry looked at her in disbelief, and the less said about Prof. McGonagall’s reaction the better.
“You were studying?” the professor asked tightly.
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Unfortunately, the lie had already been told, so they had to stick with it.
“Yes, professor,” Harry said. “in one of the empty classrooms on the sixth floor.”
“Hmm. And what were you studying that you couldn’t do in the library like everyone else?” Prof. McGonagall asked.
Hermione’s brain went into overdrive trying to find something believable, and, like a miracle, something actually came to her; something that wasn’t just believable but would also easily explain their absence.
“Stunning Spells,” Hermione said. “We were practicing Stunning Spells.”
Prof. McGonagall was so taken aback by the answer that she blinked for several seconds before she rallied. “So you expect me to believe that the both of you somehow stunned each other at the same time, and did it so well that it kept you asleep the entire night?” She still sounded disbelieving, but now less in the ‘I know you’re lying to me’ way, and more in the ‘you have to be lying to me’ way.
Harry laughed sheepishly and scratched his head. “Yeah, not our finest moment,” he said.
“We’re so sorry, professor,” Hermione apologized, not even needing to fake the sincerity of it. “We promise to be much more careful in the future.”
Prof. McGonagall’s eyes flitted from one to the other for several seconds, trying to spot a lie.
Eventually however, she gave up and said, “See that you do,” before walking back to the staff table.
Hermione almost collapsed with relief; she could hardly believe that they’d actually gotten away with that.
“Nice work,” Harry whispered as they sat down with their friends. And when their fellow first-years asked, in surprise and amusement, if they’d actually knocked themselves out overnight, well, nothing to do but die with the lie.
*****
“Going to get you and your girlfriend thrown out again, Potter?” Draco asked mockingly as the first-years neared the Potions lab after lunch.
His clique tittered at his joke, and Pansy said, “Maybe if we’re lucky Snape will kick out their entire house. The classroom will smell less.”
This was of course the funniest thing ever, and the Slytherins laughed even harder.
Hermione ignored them (as did Harry, to her surprise), though some of the other Gryffindors were not so pacifistic.
While Hermione ignored Draco however, his words did pull at a worry she had, causing her to ask Harry in a whisper, “You don’t think Snape will really throw us out again, do you?”
“Not if he knows what’s good for him,” Harry replied.
The boy’s words only caused Hermione’s worry to grow. “You’re not going to start a fight with him, are you?” she asked, and Harry shook his head.
“That’s the thing,” he said, “with Snape I don’t think I’ll have to.”
And the knowledge that Harry was right did not make Hermione worry any less.
*****
Hermione and Harry sat together in Potions, both of them nervous as they waited for Prof. Snape to come out of his office and both of them trying to hide it.
They were not the only ones who were nervous, practically everyone, including the Slytherins, were. Prof. Snape’s display last week had scared everybody.
While Hermione and Harry had been the focus of his ire, they’d at least had the dubious good fortune to be kicked out, because after that happened, Snape had stormed into his office and slammed the door behind himself. And then everyone still in the class had sat and listened tensely as the man screamed and blew stuff up in his office.
It had only been half an hour after he went quiet that the students had found the courage to leave the classroom.
And now they were all back here, waiting for that same— the door to the classroom swung shut and everyone jumped. Then the door to Snape’s office opened with a slow, loud creak and the man stepped out like Dracula himself rising from his coffin.
Prof. Snape walked into the room slowly, his cape folded around him like the wings of a giant bat. As he walked his eyes surveyed the room keenly, passing over everyone and everything.
Hermione felt her heart stop when those dark, seemingly pupilless eyes met hers, but they moved on before she even had the time to think about it.
After almost a minute of silent staring, Snape finally spoke, his voice flat almost to the point of lacking inflection: “Anyone who disrupts my class will be thrown out.”
And with that the teaching began. Well, Hermione hesitated to call it teaching, seeing as Snape simply told them to open to page 5 of their textbooks and follow the instructions within to make the Boil Removing Potion. Then he retreated to a dark corner of the class and (there was no better way to say this) perched for almost the entirety of the lesson.
Prof. Snape ended up not kicking anyone out of class that day, but that was only because, no one, not even the Slytherins, had the courage to do anything that might be considered a disruption.
By the end, Hermione was sure that she and Harry had gotten their potions right. They looked and smelled as their textbooks said they should at the very least. She would have preferred to get Prof. Snape’s opinion on them, but she just knew that calling on him for anything would be asking for trouble.
Per Snape’s instruction, Hermione and Harry set aside some of the potion they made in little vials before cleaning up the rest, and Hermione frowned as she considered for the first time, how much waste would be incurred in this one class alone.
Thirty odd students throwing out potions, week after week, and that was before one accounted for the six other years worth of students.
The girl shook her head in wonder.
By the time the last person was done, the class was only two hours through, but Prof. Snape asked them to submit their samples all the same, and for those who had done so to leave.
The students obeyed, stepping forward single file. When Hermione submitted hers, going after Harry, Prof. Snape said, “Go back to your seat, Miss Granger. I’ll see you after I’m done.”
Hermione almost asked why, but in the end, she simply muttered a “yes, sir,” and returned to her seat as asked.
Harry was not happy, but there wasn’t really anything he could do about it, a fact that seemed to frustrate him more.
In the end, he promised to wait for her outside and then sat with her until everyone else had left.
When it was just the three of them in the classroom, Prof. Snape gave Harry a dark look, it was the first time the man had even acknowledged the boy’s presence since class started.
The staredown carried on for some time, until Hermione elbowed Harry lightly.
“I’ll be fine,” she whispered.
Finally, grudgingly, Harry got up and left, and Hermione almost regretted her decision when the door closed behind the boy and she realized that she was now alone in the dim classroom with Prof. Snape.
The air felt oppressive, cloying, and in the cavernous silence of the room, Hermione heard every swish of Prof. Snape’s robes as he rose from his seat and approached her.
For a moment, Hermione’s eyes met his dark ones, and the girl quickly looked away when she remembered why she and Harry were practicing occlumency.
At her desk now Prof. Snape didn’t stand still, instead he stalked around her with smooth, silent steps, like a bird of prey does a little mouse.
Hermione swallowed, her heart beginning to pound in her chest. He wasn’t going to hurt her, was he? He wouldn’t dare. Right?
When Prof. Snape finally spoke, Hermione nearly squeaked.
“I imagine he’s told you all sorts of tales about me,” Snape began. “All sorts of lies.”
Hermione swallowed again; it didn’t do much, not with her throat feeling like it had balls of cotton wool in it.
“I—I don’t—”
“Don’t lie to me, girl,” Snape said, his voice a barely restrained snarl. “It’s what Potters do; they lie and deceive, with their big smiles and stupid jokes.
“Always the hero, always the champion.” Hermione heard the man’s teeth grind. “Always making someone else the villain.”
Snape completed another revolution around Hermione, then stopped in front of her. The girl kept her eyes down.
“But here is something Potter will never tell you; your life will not be better with him in it.
“It will only get worse, until, one day, he will get you killed. Just like Lily.”
Hermione froze, then slowly, she stood, shouldered her bag, and began to walk out of the classroom.
Snape was so confused by her actions that he was at a loss for words even as he watched her walk out.
At the door, Hermione stopped, then turned and looked the potions master in the eyes as she said, “You’re a very bad person, Professor. Please, stay away from us.”
Harry was on the other side of the door when Hermione opened it.
His worried eyes took her in as he asked, “Are you okay?”
Hermione nodded quietly.
With her well-being confirmed, Harry moved on to other matters.
“What did he want?” the boy asked, trying to peek past her into the room.
Hermione shut the door softly behind her.
“Nothing,” Hermione said, taking his hand. “Let’s go.”
Harry was reluctant and looked like he really wanted some answers, but eventually, he capitulated and let Hermione drag him along, and the farther they got from the potions classroom, the easier Hermione could breathe again.