A turning moment in life

Malfoy...



It had been four years since Hermione had last seen him. After Dumbledore’s death in the Astronomy Tower, Snape and Draco had appeared at the Order’s door to explain their actions and persuade Moody, Remus, the Weasleys and the others that they were still on the right side.



Draco had looked like a corpse standing by Snape in the kitchen at Grimmauld Place. His face was swollen with multiple cuts, his eyes were black and haunted, and his hair was all bloodied. His clothing was torn as a result of his resistance to the Cruciatus Curse Voldemort had cast on him time and time again because of his failure. The elder Malfoys were both dead. Voldemort had ordered Bellatrix Lestrange to kill her sister and brother-in-law in front of her nephew, and she did so without a tinge of remorse or pity.



Snape did not look much better than Draco. He had deep cuts in his chest, probably from Sectumsempra or a similar hex. His face was covered with dust and sweat, and his nose was probably broken again, as it looked a bit straighter than it had been the previous day. They did not ask for pity or compassion. They had come for revenge.



The Order members then locked Draco and Snape in the Headquarters’ basement, turning it into a prison of sorts. They stayed in captivity until Minerva showed up with some letters and memories from Albus Dumbledore proving that Snape was only acting on his orders. Snape had not wanted to do it, he was forced into it. But, even with the newfound evidence, nobody believed in him.



Surprisingly, Harry backed up Draco. The fact that he saw the blonde boy crying his heart out in Myrtle’s toilet was enough proof for him. With Snape, the general attitude was completely different. Nobody was willing to help him or give him a chance, but they could not let him go back to Voldemort. He had too many enemies, on both sides, to remain unscathed for long. But there was one person in the Order who was affected beyond reason. Hermione had always trusted Snape blindly. She admired his sharp intellect and defended him against her friends at Hogwarts. She had always seen Professor Snape as a pillar; standing steadfast against the worst enemy the world had ever seen. That pillar collapsed after killing Dumbledore.



Snape was redeemed in Harry’s and Ron’s eyes only after he helped them find two more of the Horcruxes. The rest of the Order saw this change in their hero as an indication that they could believe Snape’s innocence. Hermione had never got over her disappointment, but gave him the benefit of the doubt.



**__**__**



Ginny and Hermione stepped into the Headmistress’ office to see Draco heatedly arguing with her. He did not look like an arrogant, aristocratic teenager any more, but a man of 21 whose ice blue eyes had lost their evil edge, but not their sexiness. He was wearing a tailored shirt of forest green silk and black trousers. Hermione did not know how he did it, but he always managed to look perfect. She heard Ginny gasp beside her when Malfoy turned to them, but, not wanting to embarrass her friend, kept quiet.



Severus Snape was standing next to the fireplace with his face unreadable as ever, but his clothing surprised Hermione. He was wearing a midnight blue shirt and grey charcoal trousers instead of the black cloak she was used to seeing. She could not believe her eyes. Snape looked ten years younger, his hair was greying in a favourable way, and his eyes were not the usual deep, black holes, but bright and relaxed. This was not the man she expected to see, and her body gave a sudden shudder.



McGonagall attracted everyone’s attention by opening the conversation, ‘Welcome back, Ginny. I believe Madam Pomfrey is already waiting for you in the Hospital Wing,’ she said warmly, examining the girls closely, ‘and welcome back to you, too, Hermione. You are the one we need to speak with; your friends’ presence is not required.’



Ginny understood a dismissal when she heard one and, with a comforting look to Hermione, left.



‘Miss Granger, please be seated,’ continued McGonagall.



‘Thanks, Headmistress, but what is it we need to discuss?’ asked Hermione curiously.



‘Well, I know I offered you an apprenticeship in Transfiguration, but I was wondering if you would be willing to exchange it for Potions instead, so that Mister Malfoy can begin with Transfiguration.’



Hermione’s eyes opened wide and her jaw dropped, giving her the appearance of a fish out of water.



‘But, why? I don’t think Professor Snape would prefer having me as an apprentice over Draco.’ Hermione looked suspiciously at Snape, trying to imagine what could make them change their offer and if he was doing so willingly.



‘Miss Granger, you are correct in your assessment of my preferences.’



‘So, why the change, then?’



McGonagall intervened before they could begin arguing. ‘Hermione, I think I may address you as such now, there is a favour we need to ask of you; you don’t need to accept it if you find it unsuitable. The problem is - Professor Snape is Mister Malfoy’s godfather, and there are rumours spreading around academic circles that Mister Malfoy will only accomplish the feat of becoming a Master because of their family connection. Hogwarts is seen as a reliable institution, and this sort of favouritism is not looked on with welcome eyes. Therefore, we ask that you exchange your position with Mr Malfoy’s so both of you may remain here.’



What? Hermione thought, I have to give Draco my position and work with Snape? If I say no, I’ll seem like a complete bitch, but if I say yes, I’ll have to endure Snape’s presence for two years! Hermione remembered one of her most embarrassing memories in school: when she was hit with the Densaugeo Curse by Malfoy with Snape looking on with a smirk. “I see no difference,” he had said. How could she work with this man? True, he was not evil. He had changed after the war, but he still could not stand her presence for long. So, what to do?



‘If I agree with this, what would I gain?’ Hermione finally asked. Both Slytherins turned to her with amused grins, ‘Don’t look at me like that. I see no profit in this for me, only for Draco. As I see it, Professor Snape will make my life hell if I agree, and if I don’t, I could just stay with McGonagall and have a good time. So, what do you offer?’



Even Minerva could not believe that one of her own Gryffindors was reacting so like a Slytherin. She was expecting some resistance, yes, but not bribing.



‘Name your terms, Miss Granger.’ Snape’s deep voice gave her chills, but she remained unmoved.



‘I want my own space to work on personal projects,’ Hermione said while thinking fast and hard of what she wanted, ‘one evening off during the week along with weekends, to assist you in your classes, to get to teach the first and second years after my first year’s apprenticeship and your promise to treat me fairly and without cruelty.’



Draco’s bark of laughter was so loud and heartfelt, even Minerva started laughing. Snape, on the other hand, just glared at Hermione. The last condition was not one he wanted to grant her. He wanted her to work for his approval, and he was not going to give in easily.



‘I agree to give you Sundays off and an evening during the week, if it’s for something important. I will treat you fairly, providing you don’t neglect your duties as my apprentice, I expect your undivided attention toward your work.’



It was a fair counter-proposal, Hermione decided. She was staring at Snape, she knew, but she couldn’t help it. She had expected a harsh reply and some sarcastic comments on her behaviour, appearance or intelligence, but she received none. It was unnerving. The man behind Snape’s mask did not seem to be the same person she remembered, but she was in favour of second chances.



‘OK, I’ll take Draco’s place with the stated conditions.’



Minerva stood up and shook Hermione’s hand, ‘Thank you. I knew we could count on you, Hermione.’



Draco got to his feet, also. He did not touch her or come near her, but thanked her none the less. The only one that did not move from his standing position was Snape. He was glaring at Hermione so fiercely, he could have burnt a hole through the centre of her forehead.

Suddenly, he turned on his heel and stalked to the door. ‘My office, tomorrow, seven o’clock sharp, don’t be late.’ And with a sharp turn of his wrist, the door rattled on its hinges.



Why did I say yes?