The Diary

Hermione was looking forward to seeing Hagrid; none of them had had much time to see him the first week of school, especially Hermione, since she had decided against specializing in magical creatures, and had taken extra hours of Ancient Runes, instead. Still she had to admit to a certain curiosity as to what new and dangerous creatures he had brought in for the start of the new year.

Hagrid was waiting for them outside his hut. “Hi there, Ron an’ ‘Arry, and ‘Ermione. Good ‘ter see ya three. Fang’s missed ya too! And just wait ‘til ya see what I just picked u Hag Hagrid let them out to a large trough at the side of his hut. The trough was filled with green, murky looking water, with bits of dead wood floating in it.

Ron looked at it quizzically. “What are they then? Deadly sticks?” Withouttingting for Hagrid’s response, Ron reached over and prodded one. He was rewarded with a sharp nip on his finger. “Them’s dugbogs. Ye want ‘er be real careful wi’ them. They got sharp teeth an’ claws, they do.” Ron had nodded and quickly pulled his hand back. “But c’mon inside you three, and I’ll put th’ kettle on.”

The rest of the morning was spent pleasantly enough, although it was still a challenge to pretend to eat Hagrid’s rock cakes while trying to surreptitiously feed bits to Fang, who was curled at Ron’s feet. The conversation eventually turned to what the three of them were going to do when they were done with school. Harry had shaken his head, but muttered something about how he thought he might want to be an Auror. Ron had smiled, though. “I’d like to try to be an Auror, too, but I have a feeling that I’m going to end up working in some dank office in the Ministry of Magic, fixing errant wands or something.” He smiled self-deprecatingly.

“An’ what about you, Miss ‘Ermione?”

She looked that the three men at the table, trying to quell a brief bolt of panic that had shot through her. “Umm. Well, I really hadn’t quite nailed it down yet. There are so many things that I’d like to study, and to learn. I don’t know.”

Harry patted her comfortingly on the arm. “Don’t worry Herm – you’ve got lots of time to figure out what you’re going to do. And you’re so good at everything, that you could be whatever you wanted.” She nodded dumbly in response. Yeah. She really was going to have to start thinking about what she was going to do when school ended. She had been putting off thinking about it.

“Oh hell, Hermione,” the small voice in her head began, “You’re just in denial. You don’t want school to ever end.” Seeing her tune out of the conversation, Ron reached over and handed her another rock cake.

“Here,” he whispered, “This’ll keep your mind off it…” She smiled. Good old Ron. It was true; she could figure out how to destroy the rock cake while the other three moved on to talk about Quidditch.


****
Snape had settled himself in the ‘Restricted’ section of the library. There was less chance of getting bothered by anyone. Not he had seen anyone in the library anyway – the students never seemed to get serious about school until major assignments were due, and then they’d all cluster around tables, trying to share their paltry knowledge with one another, in the hopes of getting a passing grade. Besides, with it being the first weekend of the term, and with the sun shining, there was no chance of any students finding themselves in the library today, unless they got lost.

Which was just fine with him.

Several hours later, Snape was interrupted from his intellectual stupor as Hermione opened her book bag on a table just outside the restricted section. He noticed that she glanced over at him briefly, and then went to the stacks to retrieve a book. When she returned to her table, he watched her over the top of his book, as she pulled her hair back into a pony tail, and began to read.

Of course. She would be the one student in the library on a Saturday afternoon. Clearly whatever Harry and the Weasley boy had tried to talk her into earlier had ended. One of the few students who actually had the potential to contribute something meaningful to the body of wizarding knowledge. Not that he’d tell her that, either, of course. But, he mused, she might, just might, be someone who would be worth taking on as an apprentice, after she graduated… Perhaps he might mention something to Albus about her. She did have the drive, and the talent to be a scientist; it would be a shame to see her go into some ‘fluff’ area, like charms, and you didn’t need much imagination to become an arithmancer.

He didn’t even realize that she had noticed his attention on her, until he focused his eyes, and saw that she had looked over at him, glared fiercely, and turned back to her text with a sharp determination.

“On the other hand,” he thought, “would you really want to spend that much time with her? Besides Potter and Weasley would probably be coming around, distracting her, and it would be too difficult to train someone who was so easily distracted… And a Gryffindor, besides. Really, what are you thinking? Clearly you’ve been in the library too long today”

With an inward grin that was equal parts malice and pleasure, he got up from his chair and headed back into the Potions section of the Restricted area. Time to find some more arcane pieces of knowledge with which to test Miss Granger’s mental acuity. Or take more points away from Griffyndor, which was more likely.

Hermione watched him walk back into the stacks. What the devil was he doing staring at her like that earlier? She did a quick look at herself and everything scattered out on the table, looking to see if there was anything amiss that he would be able to berate her for at some later time when she was unsuspecting. Not seeing anything, she turned back to her work, but had a hard time concentrating.

Hagrid’s question to her earlier had stirred up a lot of thoughts. She remembered talking to Professor McGonagall in her 5th year about her future plans. But she hadn’t really put much thought into the discussion; at that time, so much of the discussion with the the students focused on having to do well on the O.W.L.s if you wanted to go into certain careers. But that hadn’t been an issue; she knew she was going to study hard, and that she was going to do well on the O.W.L.s. And she had. So, at the start of her 6th year, she had had a lot of choices. She had decided to stick with some of the classic subjects, including Potions, Charms, Arithmancy, History of Magic, Herbology, and, of course, Defense Against the Dark Arts.

All of which made her fairly well-rounded, but not prepared for anything specific. She sighed. If she really wanted to specialize in any of the sciences, like Potions, Arithmancy, Charms or Herbology, she’d have to work out an apprenticeship of some sort. Which would be fine, except for the money thing. An apprenticeship wasn’t cheap. But Professor McGonagall had mentioned that there were some private funding sources available to students who had financial need. So, maybe that wouldn’t be a possibility. But, before she could apply for a scholarship, she’d have to actually pick a field to specialize in.

Glancing over at Snape’s now-empty chair, she ran through her main subjects in her head. “Herbology: interesting, and useful, but do I really want to spend all of my life raising mandrakes? Probably not. Cross that one off the list. Charms: well, that could be interesting. There would be lots of work in that field, and pbly bly some research positions, if I was good enough. I don’t know if I am, but it’s a thought. Arithmancy: Well. Hmm. It really is a great subject – it’s fascinating, and interesting, and I like the logical process that goes into it. But you don’t ever really get a solid answer. You get lots of ‘either-or’ results. Nothing concrete. Potions: Gulp. Snape knew so much, and the subject is interesting – there is a lot of great work being done, and it’s got that ‘hard science’ appeal – you know whether you’ve done it right or not. And it does require some knowledge of herbology, and of magical creatures, so it sort is a cross over. But damn. But do I really want to spend 5 more years with Snape? And does he want to spend 5 years with me? Doubtful. Maybe there’s someone else I could study with….”

Deciding that she was going to get no further with her homework, she gathered up her books, and resolved to make an appointment with Professor McGonagall. She might have some suggestions about how to decide what to do with her life.

****

Sitting in Potions on Monday, Hermione began to question whatever made her think that she might want to apprentice herself to a Potions Master – any Potions Master. The class had started off poorly, and only continued to get worse.

Snape had stood at the front of the classroom, lecturing on the preparation of the Deflating Potion. “I imagine that none of you will actually make a useful batch on your first try, and some of you,” he paused meaningfully, and sneered at Neville Longbottom, “will likely waste ingredients needlessly. However, because I am forced to attempt to drill some modicum of knowledge into your unresponsive brains, I am required to allow you to attempt this. Get started.”

Neville looked nervously at Hermione. She began to explain the process again, under her breath, in the hopes that Snape wouldn’t notice that she was helping Neville yet again.

“Miss Granger.” The silky voice bore into her. “This is getting tiresome. Since you continue to disobey my direct orders to not help Mr. Longbottom, I must assume that you are either deaf, or that your brain is not capable of processing direct statements. 15 points from Gryffindor, and detention.” Snape then continued to pace the classroom. The Slytherins snickered as Hermione’s face flushed.

As the class moved to the stage in the potion where the eyes of 3 puffer-fish were to be added. Snape stopped in front of Hermione. He glanced around the room briefly, and then turned his attention back to her. “Can any of you name the secondary uses of puffer fish eyes?” The class was silent, other than for the burbling of cauldrons, and a little rustling among the Slytherins. “Anyone?” Another pause. “Mr. Long—“

Snape stopped as Hermione raised her hand, saving Neville from further embarrassment. “Yes, Miss Granger?”

“Professor, secondary use of puffer fish eyes include preservation of shrivelfig, and as a substitute for frog eyes. The substitution is one puffer fish eye for every 3 frog eyes.” Hermione held her breath, waiting to see what the reaction would be.

Snape paused for a moment, giving the appearance that he was waiting for her to continue. When she did not, he started, “Those are the only secondary uses you can think of? Miss Granger, clearly you have been spending too much time coaching Mr. Longbottom in rudimentary ingredients, and have not spent enough time on your own lessons. A foot of parchment on secondary uses of puffer fish eyes. On my desk by tomorrow afternoon. 15 points from Gryffindor.”

Hermione could feel the sweat prickle up on the back of her neck as the Slytherins tittered. On her other side, Harry muttered, “How the hell does he expect you to get that done, when he’s just given you detention?” Not wanting to attract any more bad attention, Hermione merely shook her head.

The silky voice came from behind her this time, “Dodging fairies, Miss Granger? 15 points from Gryffindor for these incessant interruptions of my class.” Her face burning, Hermione did nothing.

Focusing on not causing a further loss of points to Gryffindor, Hermione struggled through the rest of the class, exaggerating her motions, so that Neville could watch and mimic her actions. Luckily, he didn’t melt his cauldron, and his final result looked close enough to the expected result that it was possible to escape class mostly unscathed.

****

After dinner, Hermione headed back to the potions classroom. Detention. Great. When, exactly, was she supposed to work on the ‘secondary uses of puffer fish eyes’ assignment that she had been given? And really, who care about the secondary uses of the damn things, anyway, when there were so many other things that worked better, and were more abundant. It’s not like Hogwarts had a readily-available supply of puffer fish, anyway.

She sighed, and then knocked on the door.

“Ah. Miss Granger. I’m glad to see that you’re on time. I’d hate to have to take away more points from Gryffindor simply because you were tardy. Now, for your detention. “I need three vials of Flobberworm mucus. I have the vials, and the Flobberworms,” he pointed to a box on one of the laboratory tables, “and you, well, you have the time to extract the mucus. You may leave when you are done.” Snape moved to his desk on the far side of the room and began to grade papers.

Yick. Not a difficult job, or a dangerous job. Just disgusting. Hermione went over to the box of Flobberworms, silently cursing Snape.

A few hours later, her hands sticky, and her robes stained, she silently left three immaculate vials of Flobberworm mucus on Snape’s desk. He didn’t even look up from his papers as she turned and left the classroom.

After she had left, he stood up and stretched. It was amazing how stubborn the girl was. Not a word to him – not about the task he had given her, not even a snide remark when she finished the task. Nothing. He smiled. Maybe she wouldn’t be a horrible apprentice, after all.

****
Black-hearted-bastard. Flobberworm mucus. What a bastard. Hagrid would have given him all the Flobberworm mucus he wanted without batting an eye. But no. I get stuck with the nasty job. I don’t know what the hell I was thinking when I was considering a Potions apprenticeship. I can’t imagine that any other Potions Master would be any better – I mean, they all live in their dungeons, becoming – what was it Ron said? – ‘pasty and greasy’. Arithmancy would provide a solid career…

****

“Well, dear, I think it is good that you have started to think seriously about your future. You have a wide range of talents, and I think that you would do well to pursue any of them. An apprenticeship would be an excellent opportunity for you. I can talk to Professor Dumbledore about some funding options – he seems to know a great deal about money sources, and the like. You’ve just got to decide what area you are interested in. Have you given much thought to what you would like to do?”

More than you can imagine, Hermione thought, morosely. “Well, I am interested in so many different areas, but I have been thinking that something where I can combine some of the things I have learned – like Potions, but with a specialization in historical potions, or antidotes, or something like that. But, well…” Her voice faltered.

“Yes? But what?”

“Well, um, I am not sure that I want to apprentice myself to Professor Snape. I’m not sure I could handle that. So I was thinking that Arithmancy might be a better way to go.”

Professor McGonagall laughed. “Oh, my dear. I am sure that you could handle Professor Snape, personality quirks and all. However, if you wanted to consider other Potions Masters, I am sure that that could be doable. Don’t let my esteemed colleague scare you off from a field you enjoy – if you enjoy it, stick with it. Do a little research, and see who is doing Potions work that interests you – Professor Dumbledore is familiar with many of the Potions Masters, and may be able to set up an interview.”

Hermione nodded her thanks, and left the office, her mind buzzing with ideas.

****

“Albus, I don’t think she’s interested in staying and working with Severus. She even mentioned Arithmancy as a possibility. I mean,” she paused, and then added, “Severus is not the most welcoming person, but to not go into a field just because of him… I don’t see it.”

“Now, Minerva. You know just as well as I do that the two of them would be good for eacher-“er-“

“Albus – what are you suggesting?” The shock in Minerva Mc Gonagall’s voice was apparent. “She is only a student.”

“For now she is, yes. But she won’t be always. The two of them don’t get along, because they see too much of themselves in each other. But I’m not going to force the issue. I think we might be able to find her a suitable Potions Master for her apprenticeship.” Albus Dumbledore smiled. “Besides, when she is done with her apprenticeship, we may be able to entice her to come back here.”

Minerva shook her head, but a smile crossed her lips. “Albus, I would have never thought you to play cupid.”

He smiled, and took a lemon drop before continuing. “My dear Minerva – you know that I have always been concerned for the total welfare of my faculty and my students.”

****