Those Who Favor Fire

Title: Those Who Favor Fire
Author:SiriuslySevered
Rating: This is pretty tame. No more than PG-13, I\'d say.
Pairings: HG/SS
Feedback: Reviews are great. Leave one.
Beta’s: Just me.
Author Notes: Yeah, yeah. I know this type of scenario has been done a million times before by twice as many people, but I don’t really care. I felt the urge to write Hermione/Snape, so write I shall.
Disclaimer: JKR owns Harry Potter. I\'m not any richer for writing this fanfic.

“Those Who Favor Fire”
By SiriuslySevered



“Fire and Ice”

Some say the world will end in fire,
Some say in ice.
From what I\'ve tasted of desire
I hold with those who favor fire.
But if it had to perish twice,
I think I know enough of hate
To say that for destruction ice
Is also great
And would suffice.

-Robert Frost-



‘And… exhale.’ Hermione breathed deeply as she stretched. Ever since the Final Battle, she’d found that doing Yoga when she woke up in the morning helped not only to wake her up quicker, thus rendering coffee completely pointless, but also helped her to clear her mind and to focus on her day. That was how she lived her life now; each day was its own battle against her inner demons.

She exhaled, shifting from the Cobra asana to the Downward Dog. Luxuriating in the feel of her muscles loosening and warming up after lying dormant during her sleep, she felt at peace with herself.

That was soon about to change.

Just when she\'d reached her peak level of relaxation, a sharp tapping sound came from her kitchen.

“Shit,” she muttered. If that’s the Boy-Who-Lived-To-Be-Dependant-Upon-His-Friends owling in another favor, she‘d have his skin for the floor in front of her fireplace. Nevermind the fact that Voldemort himself couldn’t even accomplish that.

She grudgingly opened up the kitchen window for the poor bird, never one to begrudge the messenger. Suddenly noticing that the owl wasn’t Hedwig, she became curious. Giving the bird a treat to distract it, Hermione untied the tiny parchment from the bird’s leg. Carefully breaking the Hogwarts seal and unrolling the letter, she read:

Dear Miss Hermione Granger,

As you may or may not know, we’ve lost another Defense Against the Dark Arts professor in a very unfortunate accident involving Hagrid’s newest pet. Although he has managed to survive, Professor Lectern has been scared out of the job. Knowing how you managed to scrape by after all sorts of adventures with Harry while in school, and knowing your infinite knowledge in any subject, it would be an honor to myself and the rest of the staff at Hogwarts if you would accept the position, if only for the remainder of the year.

I understand that you’ve only just completed your studies in Transfiguration at University, and do not have a Mastery in Defense Against the Dark Arts, but I am fully confident in your abilities, Hermione. Perhaps you could be the first Professor to maintain the position for longer than two years?

I hope to hear a reply soon from you, Miss Granger. Minerva would be most pleased if you’d accept, though I assure you we’d understand if you did not. You may use Mordred to send back an answer. He will hang around your apartment until you do, so get to it!

Respectfully,

Albus Dumbledore
Headmaster of Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry

So. Dumbledore wanted her to teach at Hogwarts under the DADA position? With absolutely no training in that specific field aside from the education she’d received at Hogwarts and in only two classes at University? The man definitely had gone off his rocker, but that didn’t mean that Hermione wouldn’t consider it. With no other job offers awaiting her, there being so few in the field of Transfiguration, Hermione’s major, to begin with, the idea of going back to Hogwarts was more than tempting.

She opened her bottle of ink and picked up her quill to jot down a response. Quickly rolling the parchment around Mordred’s leg, she gave him a last bit of her leftover toast and opened the window for him to fly back to his master.

* * * *


“Wonderful!” Dumbledore exclaimed, passing Hermione’s note to his left, where McGonagall sat.

She quickly scanned the note, her face breaking out of its usual rigidity into a widespread grin. “Fabulous!” She turned to her other side where Severus Snape was sitting. “Would you like to read this?”

Severus looked up from his breakfast, his fork halfway to his mouth. He returned it to his plate, looking suddenly green. “Don’t tell me she’s accepted?”

Dumbledore gave him the most serious look he could, considering how much Severus despised The Trio. “I’m afraid she has, Severus. And, to make your day even worse, she’ll be here before dinner.”

“Good Lord…” Severus muttered, shoving his chair back from the table. He quickly stood and exited the Great Hall, leaving McGonagall and Dumbledore smirking at his back as he retreated back to the safety of his dungeons.

“How long do you think it’ll be before he forgives you, Albus?”

“Oh, this time he surely won’t, Minerva.”

“It’s fortunate for him that he has blind fury on his side.”

“Quite fortunate, indeed. However, I do believe he won’t stand a chance against Miss Granger’s sheer determination.”

“Would you like to make a little wager on that, Albus? Say, a year‘s supply of lemon drops?”

Dumbledore’s blue eyes twinkled as he looked over at McGonagall. “I wouldn’t think that you would be one to bet against one of your very own Gryffindors!”

“Keep it quiet and I’ll throw in three dozen chocolate frogs.”

“Deal.”

* * * *


Hermione glanced around the room, checking to make sure that all of her absolute necessities were in her trunk. Satisfied everything was present and accounted for, her belongings became the size of a thimble and were whisked away into her pocket for safekeeping.

Hermione took one last look around her flat. Oddly enough, she wasn’t that sad to be leaving.

“Come on, Crookshanks.” Gathering up the half-Kneazle in her arms, she Disapparated with a loud crack, leaving her flat bare and empty.

* * * *


Severus was in his dungeons pouring over his research when Professor McGonagall came crashing into his private rooms.

“Oh, Severus, I see you’re busy. I’ll just come back later…” she trailed off, hoping to bait him. She turned as if to walk back out the door, yet hesitated.

“Minerva, you’ve already disturbed me. Judging from the way that you’re hanging about, I already know you’ve got something you’re just dying to tell me,” he drawled.

McGonagall smirked. He knew her too well.

“I just came to check up on your research…” his eyebrow arched, “… and to let you know that Miss Granger has arrived.” The other eyebrow joined its brother somewhere near Severus’ hairline.

“She’s HERE?!” he cried. ‘Oh gods… So… soon?’

“She has just Apparated outside of the front gates. Albus was hoping you’d escort her up to the main entry hall.” McGonagall grinned inwardly; this was her first chance to prove to herself, and to brag to Albus about later, that Severus most certainly did not fancy Hermione ‘Know-It-All’ Granger.

Severus frowned. “Why is she just waiting down there? I’ll go retrieve the girl.” He quickly took a door to his left, leaving Professor McGonagall standing in the middle of his living room, mouth agape.


* * * *


“Miss Granger!”

‘Wait. Wait a minute. I know that voice…’

“Miss GRANGER!”

Hermione turned back towards the gate and was surprised to see Professor Snape, billowing black robes and all, strolling down the pathway.

“P-professor Snape!” She felt her cheeks heat up. ‘Gods, the agony of being English…’

“Miss Granger. Though it amuses me to think that you came unprepared for once, I must say that Albus will not be please to hear that you think that his hospitality includes borrowing his clothes?” Snape smirked at Hermione, who blushed even redder.

She brought her hand out of her front pocket to reveal her tiny trunk. “And it amuses me to think that you’ve forgotten that foolish wand waving has a few good uses, shrinking trunks included.”

Holding an arm out to her in a chivalrous manner, Snape gestured up the path. “Shall we? Albus is waiting for you in the main hall.”

Hermione, though surprised momentarily at Snape’s gentlemanly gesture, quickly recovered and took his arm, letting herself be led up to Hogwarts.

From a window in his office, Dumbledore saw Severus offer his arm to Hermione and lead her up the winding path to the front entrance to the school. A mischievous smile spread over the old wizard’s face at Hermione’s blush and Severus’ obvious attempts to impress her.

“Merlin, how I love sweets.”




A/N: I promise this isn’t the end of the story. Unless I get terrible reviews, a poisonous dart to my forehead, or the plague, I’ll be adding a chapter to this story pretty soon. I know that, as of right now, it doesn’t have a very original plot, but I’m working on it! Any outrageous suggestions are appreciated in reviews. (As are adoration and words of praise... :D)

-SS-

*Thanks. renata! I can\'t believe I did that... My excuse for that was I was more than a little tired, and I also was considering using a poem by William Blake as an opener... But you\'re right. They\'re really nothing alike. *Smacks Forehead*