Disclaimer:
Anything you recognise is Ms Rowling’s, no money is being made with this.
Rating:
PG-13
A/N:
This is my response to the Time Loop Challenge on WIKTT. The title of this
story is borrowed from John Williams’ wonderful original score of HP III.
by
Claudia
One
The
day dawned bright and filled with cheerful birdsong. The air was heavy with
the scent of damp earth, a reminder of the night’s thunderstorm. The sun glistened
on the black, patched pavement down in the street, and was reflected by the
drops that still clung to every leave and petal. The sky was a clear blue,
and even the city’s air seemed cleansed, less dusty than it had been the previous
evening.
Hermione
inhaled all this deeply as she stood by the open window, cradling yet another
mug of tea. Today was her big day. She would present her Master’s Thesis to
the Potions Research Board at the Ministry. Nicholas Flamel University of
York had already granted her the degree, but what awaited her today was its
recognition by the government, which alone would grant her the permission
to teach – at Hogwarts or at any other place of education. Ever since the
ongoing problems caused by frequent change of personnel at Hogwarts, the new
Ministry had passed a law that required minimal standards and teaching skills
for the teaching personnel at any school in the wizarding world.
But
it was Hogwarts that she wanted to go to and teach. Dumbledore had retired
a year after her graduation, and Minerva McGonagall had become Headmistress
of Hogwarts with Remus Lupin as her deputy. And since Severus Snape would
leave the school, Hermione was to replace him as the new Potions Mistress.
Again,
Hermione checked her watch, but even without doing so, she knew that it was
still too early. Too early, even, to go out to the baker’s around the corner
to get some fresh rolls, let alone to go to the bookbindery to pick up the
octavo into which her Master’s Thesis had been bound. Her impatience changed
into nervousness. Her appointment wasn’t until late into the morning, and
even with all these chores before her, and the journey to London, there was
still plenty of time.
She
had been like this since the night before, when she had met with McGonagall
and a couple of friends in a York pub for a drink or two to wish her well
for her big day. Although her mentor, Severus Snape had not joined them. He
probably deemed it unnecessary since her would accompany her to the Ministry
this morning. He had been her mentor ever since the previous year when they
had run – quite literally – into each other at the British Library (Wizarding
Section). Somehow, Snape’s interest in her research had overcome his usual
nastiness and bad opinion of her as an odious know-it-all. In turn, her eagerness
to really talk to someone outside the faculty had had her forget most of his
shortcomings as her former teacher. Her thesis – then hardly ripe enough to
be called so – grew with the help of his constructive criticism and help regarding
her reading list. As always, he had very generously offered her the former,
the latter he had used sparingly – to encourage her to work even harder. His
demands had goaded on her ambition, as always, but he had done without getting
personal. At times, there was even a friendly air about their discussions,
which never failed to make Hermione wonder.
Several
months into her work, McGonagall had offered her Snape’s job. It was a great
relief and honour for Hermione. Research was all very well, but she had realised
that studying alone did not satisfy her. A teaching position, although not
her first and only idea of her career, at second gaze offered all that which
she wanted from life. She was in touch with people, working with them, passing
on her knowledge, and at the same time had the chance to further it. She would
not have to whither away in some dusty Ministry office and had the opportunity
to actually do something.
Most
amazing, her predecessor seemed to support the Headmistress’ choice. The appointment
with the Ministry was but a technicality. In a day from tomorrow, she would
go on holiday for two weeks. After that, she had a week to move her belongings
to Hogwarts; August she would spend at Hogwarts and hiking in the Scottish
Highlands.
Again,
she drew the cool, clear air in deeply, enjoying the earthy smell. It was
going to be a wonderful day. If only it were time to Apparate to London yet!
Hermione
decided to take a walk around the city walls and then treat herself to some
pastry and strong coffee at one of the Muggle cafés. She loved walking around
the city on the well-preserved mediaeval walls, particularly because of the
view it offered of the magnificent Minster. It was simply awe-inspiring. Since
it was early in the morning, she might even see its towers bathed in the morning
sun, and undisturbed by the foreign crowds that populated the narrow streets
of the city at this time of the year.
~*~
Snape
was already waiting for her when she Apparated at a safe point in an alley
in Muggle London. He did not comment, however, on her punctuality which was
impeccable; she had arrived early. From appearances, Snape was nervous, too,
but he wouldn’t let that on in her presence, of course. Hermione saw that
clearly, and smiled.
“Good
morning, Professor.”
“Miss
Granger.” Even on a day as this, Snape could not do without his usual, curt
politeness. He retrieved his watch from one of his pockets. “We are early.”
“Quite,”
Hermione nodded. “Why don’t we walk to the Ministry?” They had planned on
taking the Tube and walk the rest of the way, but it was only one stop from
here to there.
Grateful
for not having to squeeze into the narrow carriage, Severus agreed. “I trust
you have everything you need with you?”
Hermione
produced the smart octavo from her handbag and held it out for him. He merely
nodded. Then they set off down the alley in a silence that Hermione would
have liked to label companionable, but she couldn’t. There was an almost tangible
tension between them in the air, which she couldn’t quite grasp.
“Thank
you for accompanying me,” she eventually said.
“It
is entirely my pleasure, Miss Granger,” he replied.
Was
that a compliment?
“It
is a great relief to know my successor this well, Miss Granger,” he continued,
“to know that my venerable Art is in good care when I leave Hogwarts.”
Hermione
blushed, more from surprise than from modesty. She knew she was good, and
she had wanted nothing more than have him tell her that she was. “Thank you,
sir.”
Severus
smiled. He had finally been able to express his feelings about her abilities.
He had got to know Hermione Granger a lot better in the past twelvemonth,
well enough to appreciate her intellect – and to admit to himself that she
was more like him than he had cared to even think about. Next to Minerva,
she was a woman whose company he enjoyed without feeling seized up or pitied
or … whatever. He enjoyed talking shop with her, and some of her thoughts
were quite stimulating. It was a pity that they would not see each other often
in the future. Maybe they could continue their friendship – if you could call
it that – via owl post. He would send her a letter and see how things would
develop from then on.
He
was aware of the fact that Granger had noticed his smile. He looked at her
askance.
She
smiled in return.
They
stopped to cross the street. Both directions were clear.
Severus
noticed the car that speeded around the corner too late to grab Granger by
the arm and pull her back on the pavement.
There
wasn’t even time for a scream before the car hit her and she was hurled over
the car’s bonnet, against the windscreen and hence rolled off onto the street.
Tyres had screeched and the thud of her body hitting the beast of metal was
a sickly sound. Then again, tyres screeched as the driver realised what had
happened, and fled the scene, once again at top speed. It was over – quite
literally – in a flash.
Severus
was by her side with four long strides. She lay sprawled on the wet, tarred
surface, and she was very still. Except for some angry bruises that started
to bloom on her skin, and a couple of scratches she seemed unharmed. But Severus
knew that appearances were deceiving in a case like this.
“Miss
Granger?” He touched her arm. “Hermione? Can you hear me?”
When
she didn’t respond, he carefully scooped her up into his arms, and Apparated
them to St Mungo’s.