Correspondence

As the school year progressed, each week a new note would appear somewhere in the library. One was in her chair, another in a returned book, and another in her bag. Each one a different sentiment, each one sweeter than the last:

In thy face I see honor, truth and loyalty. -Shakespeare

When you do dance, I wish you
A wave o' th' sea, that you might ever do
Nothing but that – Shakespeare

I give away myself for you and dote upon the exchange –Shakespeare

He must have been reading Shakespeare during this time because all three quotes were from the renowned playwright. But the repetition didn’t matter; each one meant something.

She had wracked her brain, thinking about who in the world it could possibly be. She feared it was a student. She honestly didn’t know how she would handle the situation if that were the case. The logical conclusion was that it was another member of the staff. She had run through the list of all the staff members in the school. Flitwick was too old, Firenze was another species, Hagrid was a half giant, Slughorn, well, did she really need to say it, and Filch… she gave an involuntary shiver.

The only option that even made any sense was Severus Snape. Although the idea of him leaving her romantic little notes was almost laughable, she wouldn’t be completely opposed to the idea. They had slowly begun to talk more over the past weeks. She was starting to learn about the man behind the bat. He had a wicked sense of humor and a wit that was as sharp as a knife. But she knew that it was an option that would never be realized.

During her sixth week of working as the librarian, instead of the customary note, she found a surprise when she entered the library. Sitting on her desk was a vase filled with deep purple irises. She smiled softly at the thought behind the flowers.

Hermione pushed the vase to the side of her desk and spread out her work. The flowers, sitting where they were, kept drawing her eye, and she was unable to ignore them. She worked for a while and then looked up. The flowers were still there, as pretty as ever. She gently brushed the tips of her fingers over the delicate petals of the beautiful irises. The petals tickled her fingers, and when she pulled back her hand, they bounced with the loss of her weight.

“Oh, my, Hermione! Who are those from?” Minerva asked as she walked into the library.

“I have no idea. I have been getting sweet messages for the past few weeks, and today I got these,” she said as she waved her hand towards the flowers.

“You have a secret admirer, Hermione,” Minerva said with a big smile on her face. “Do you know who it could be?”

“I honestly have no idea. I have thought on it and thought on it, and I have come up with nothing. Do you have any ideas?” she asked, looking up at the woman she had always respected.

“No, but as Headmistress I have spies all over the castle. I can see what I can dig up if you want?”

“Minerva, I do believe Dumbledore rubbed off on you,” Hermione said with a smirk on her face.

“You just might be right. Well, I’m going to see what I can learn; I’ll see you at dinner.”

“Wait, Minerva. Did you want something?”

“I just wanted to see how you were doing up here and if you needed anything.”

“Oh, I’m fine. I don’t really need anything right now, but I will let you know when I do.”

“All right. I will see you at dinner.“

She left Hermione at her desk with a smile on her face. The irises still sat there, their color vibrant and illuminating.

She glanced up when she heard the rustle of clothing. A dark shadow fell over her desk, and she smiled at the looming figure of Severus Snape. He placed a book down on her desk.

“My, my, what do we have here?” he asked, touching the irises.

“I seem to have picked up a secret admirer. He sent - well, not technically sent since they were here when I got here- but I received them this morning. They are beautiful.” She reached over and smelled one.

“Do you know what they mean?” he asked quizzically.

“No, although I’ve always found flower meanings fascinating.”

“Irises typically symbolize inspiration. So you must inspire your admirer. Simply charming,” he said with a slight curl to his lip.

“Wow, Severus. You almost said that with no disdain in your voice. Good job, you are making progress,” she said with a laugh as she straightened a stack of papers on her desk.

“Yes, well, I have a class to teach. I just came to drop this off. Good day, Miss Granger.” He left with a flick of his cloak, and she chuckled at his typical bat of the dungeons demeanor.

*

The next week, they were yellow roses. Hermione smiled when she saw them on her desk. She knew what yellow roses meant, friendship. She loved roses, but they could easily be overrated, at least the red ones. The yellow roses had a certain happy quality about them. They seemed to be smiling at her, smiling with a secret, one she was just itching to know.

She was a hit with the students. They took to her much faster and easier than to Madame Pince. Whether it was because she was younger and much more relatable or a nicer personality. The library had taken on a much more friendly glow to it, becoming a place more students went to.

“Hermione, have you thought that maybe this secret admirer may be dangerous?” Minerva asked her that night at dinner.

“It crossed my mind, but it just doesn’t seem that way. The notes weren’t declarations of mad, passionate love. Nothing creepy like descriptions of what I do at night, or locks of my hair, or pictures of me in private. They have just been sweet little snippets, including lines from Shakespeare. It just doesn’t seem dangerous. It seems more like a friendly admirer who could become more - if he ever shows himself, that is.”

“I just don’t want you to be one of those foolish, innocent girls who has a “secret admirer” and ends up with her throat slit, floating in a lake, and a block of cement tied to her ankle.” A soft snort was the response to this, causing both Hermione and Minerva to look over at Severus, who gave both of them a look of pure innocence, something he wasn’t able to pull off easily.

“Do you have something to say, Severus?” Minerva asked him, a familiar twinkle in her eyes.

“No, nothing important, simply that you may be overlooking the simplest possible explanation.”

“And what might that be?” Hermione questioned, intrigued about where he was going with his line of thought.

“He may simply want to get into your knickers,” Severus said bluntly with a shrug of his shoulders. Hermione erupted in laughter, and Minerva sputtered at the shocking response he had given. Hermione turned towards the shocked headmistress.

“You know, he might actually have a point there,” she stated through her laughter, pointing her thumb at the dark man behind her, who was hiding the smirk covering his face.