The Makeover - COMPLETED

Disclaimer: All recognizable characters belong to JKR. All situations are mine. No $$$ is being made from this fanfic.
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Chapter 7 ~ Breakfast

That night, Hermione had a dream about Harry. She hadn’t written him in ages. The-boy-who-lived now lived in America, taking the position of DA teacher at the Salem School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. He had wanted a change and a new beginning and believed he would find it in another country.

In the dream a great mist surrounded Hermione. She was new and improved, her hair curling, her teeth straight and her eyebrows separated and arched. She was facing Harry and looking directly at him, but he was calling her as if he couldn’t see her standing right in front of him.

“Hermione? Hermione, where are you?” the wizard called.

“I’m here, right here Harry!” she shouted at him, but he continued to look around for her.

“Harry, here I am!” she called.

Finally, the wizard’s green eyes fell on her somberly.

“You’re not the Hermione I know,” he said with a sneer and stalked off into the mist, leaving her alone.

Hermione woke up, panting.

“What the hell did that mean?” the witch said to herself.

Hermione had no idea that her deepest fears about her new look were manifesting in her subconscious. She was afraid that those she loved would no longer see her as herself, but as this new witch, her looks overshadowing who she really was. The witch wasn’t secure enough to realize that although this might be true for the casual acquaintance, those who loved her would always see beyond her appearance.

She looked at the clock. It was twenty to six. Hermione rolled out of bed to go take a shower and have an early breakfast. The witch didn’t feel like being ogled this morning by staff and students. It was going to take a bit of time to get used to being looked at in a positive manner…she was so used to being talked about and made fun of behind her back. She needed to ease her way into the new perceptions about her. No matter how she looked at it, it wasn’t going to be easy. She was used to being focused on for her intelligence, but not for her looks.

After her shower, Hermione put on a simple pair of jeans and a blue pull-over sweater. She tied back her curling hair into a pony-tail. Her skin was already noticeably less blotchy, so she passed on the cover-up. She pulled on her white trainers and headed out to breakfast. She was half-way up the dungeon corridor when Severus exited his rooms, also headed for an early breakfast. He saw the witch walking ahead of him, his dark eyes narrowing as he cut his stride so he wouldn’t catch up to her. If he did, he’d risk a conversation being started and he had no wish for conversation, particularly this early in the morning.

As he watched Hermione walk, Severus found he definitely preferred her in robes. Her clothing, while not too tight was still a bit distracting. It definitely lent a more…carnal aspect to the witch which was lacking before. He scowled.

Hermione was a witch, and witches all wanted to be perceived as attractive. Up to this point, the Spells Mistress had sort of been his counterpoint. He was perceived as the most unattractive wizard at Hogwarts and Hermione the most unattractive witch. If he gave two flying fucks, Severus could have done a few things to make himself more attractive, but why bother? This way, he was left alone…just how he liked it. Besides, he was comfortable with how he looked, dark, dangerous…unapproachable. It was just the message he wanted to give. Everyone understood this, everyone but that psycho, Sybil Trelawney.

Albus had strictly forbidden Severus to hex, obliviate or slip Sybil any potions.

“Sometimes we have to live with our mistakes,” the Headmaster said, nodding his head sagely as the Potions Master glowered at him.

Severus then tried to use the incident as an excuse not to attend any more staff parties…but Albus refused that as well citing all staff had to participate in such functions to keep employee morale up. Severus pointed out that since the incident with Sybil, his morale was practically non-existent. But the Headmaster wouldn’t budge on the issue.

Severus suspected the old wizard simply enjoyed watching him go through trial after trial with the deluded witch. There was nothing about her the Professor found the slightest bit interesting or arousing. First, she was an idiot and a fraud, two things Severus despised. Secondly, she was too tall and too blasted skinny. He had no idea how he didn’t come up injured by all her sharp joints. Again the wizard shuddered as he turned into the main hall. He’d have to stop thinking about Sybil if he wanted to keep his breakfast down.

He entered the Great Hall to find Hermione seated and waiting for her breakfast. With a billow of robes he took his own seat and ordered his meal. They sat there silently waiting for their meals to appear. Severus couldn’t help but notice Hermione made no attempt to greet him this morning. That was distinctly out of character for the witch. He never answered her greetings but had become accustomed to them just the same.

Their meals arrived. Severus was surprised to see there was no big greasy sausage on the witch’s plate. She had scrambled eggs, toast and jam and one thin slice of lean ham. Not that he was ever really interested in what Hermione ate, but watching her sink those buck teeth into the sausage casing used to give him the heebie jeebies from time to time, and his legs would reflexively clench together. It might have been interesting to watch her consume the sausage now that her teeth were fixed.

Suddenly the double doors opened and Sybil walked in, all gauze, bangles and glare as she looked up at the dais and saw Severus and Hermione sitting there eating. They were almost at opposite ends of the High Table, but still…they were there together. Her Potions Master and that succubus-in-the-making.

She mounted the dais and walked slowly past Severus, letting her finger trail across his shoulder seductively.

“Good morning, Severus,” she purred.

“Blast it, woman! How many times do I have to tell you NOT to touch me!” the Potions Master bellowed.

Hermione was startled by the wizard yelling and dropped the eggs she was about to bring to her mouth. Sybil looked quite unaffected by his screaming at her.

“Misplaced aggression,” she said to herself, and scowled as she approached Hermione.

The witch looked very good and was dressed quite casually, her curly hair drawn back in a rather fetching pony-tail and her clothing accentuating every curve. The Potions Master had to notice how curvy the young witch was. Sybil sat down in her seat and ordered breakfast, then she looked at Hermione for a moment before addressing her in her hollow “seer” voice, which heralded a prediction.

“Hermione Granger, I see you in the next few months pregnant and abandoned after a lewd and lustful night with a dark wizard,” Sybil intoned. “He will be one of many, many wizards you have taken to your bed of naughtiness.”

“My…my bed of naughtiness?” Hermione replied, bursting into laughter at the very idea.

“Do not laugh, witch…you'll only anger the Fates!” Sybil said, her hollow voice taking on an edge.

Hermione gulped down her laughter long enough to ask Sybil who the dark wizard was. For a moment, Severus was tempted to say to both witches, “Me.”

Hermione would have been shocked but Sybil would have gone into conniptions of wrath. He would have enjoyed seeing it. But the Potions Master said nothing. Instead he slowed his eating. This was relatively entertaining.

“I cannot see who he is, but he is of unsuitable character…of course,” the witch said, making her voice rise and fall. “The lowest of the low. Despicable.”

Hermione leveled her eyes at the witch.

“Sybil, why do you dislike me so much? What have I ever done to you?” Hermione asked the Divination teacher.

Hell, that went back to her third year at Hogwarts when she dropped divination in front of the entire class. Even then Sybil was jealous of the witch’s intelligence. Sybil was one of those witches who was dissatisfied with everything about her life, feeling her own accomplishments and person were overshadowed unfairly by others. When Hermione returned to Hogwarts, her unattractiveness was like a balm to the witch. An innocent target for her bitterness. Putting Hermione down was Sybil’s favorite pastime…it kept the witch’s negative features at the fore, rather than her brilliance. In other words, Sybil felt able to take the witch down a peg in other’s eyes, and it made her feel powerful and important to be able to do so. Hermione had no one to defend her from the teacher, although one would have thought Minerva would do or say something instead of remaining silent, or tittering along with the others.

Minerva, for all her sharpness and bite, was considered an old spinster, though she was the lover of Albus Dumbledore for more than thirty years. They never married because that would make the witch the target of Albus’ enemies. She had cared deeply for Hermione when she was in her charge, but she was a grown witch now, and had to deal with life for herself. Plus, Minerva as strong as she appeared, wanted to be accepted and part of the clique. Standing up for Hermione would most likely get her ostracized from the other staff members, and her own shortcomings become fodder for their mean-spirited comments. No one wanted to be without friends, after all…even friends as flighty and gossipy as Sybil and the rest of the staff.

Sybil leveled her large eyes at Hermione, and adjusted her glasses.

“You think too much of yourself, that’s why. Not having to teach classes. Piling up honor after honor. Getting public recognition for your work. You make others look bad,” the witch sneered, “That’s why I don’t like you. You’re a show-off.”

Severus looked over at Sybil. The jealous, covetous old bitch. He shook his head, hoping Hermione would show some backbone and light into the witch.

Hermione stared at Sybil.

“I am not a show-off, Sybil. I simply do the work I was trained to do and do it well. I can’t teach Spell Creation to Hogwarts students. It is a university course and every student has to be licensed to participate. As far as the honors go, that can’t be helped if I am successful with the work I do. I don’t understand how you think my success in some way affects you or makes you look bad. It has nothing to do with you, Sybil. You are a Divinations teacher…you shouldn’t feel any way about my Spells work,” Hermione said, frowning at the witch. “I work in order to bring extra income to Hogwarts, income that allows our school to keep giving our students a quality education as well as pay your salary. Not to mention to find solutions to the magical problems that plague the wizarding world. How can you be jealous about that? This isn’t about personal glory or gain, Sybil. It is my life’s work. I studied very hard to work in this field.”

Sybil frowned at her.

“I don’t care. To me you are and will always be a pompous, ugly little show-off,” the witch sniffed.

“And you will always be a fraud,” Hermione spat back, angry now. “A bangled, scrawny, delusional fraud who has nothing but jealousy boiling inside you. You’ll never be happy, Sybil until you accept life on its own terms and realize it doesn’t work the way you think it should.”

Sybil’s mouth went into a round “O” at the younger witch’s comment.

“How…how dare you speak to me in such a manner!” Sybil said indignantly. But Hermione wasn’t finished yet. She wanted to hurt the witch.

“The perfect example of how delusional you are is sitting right at the end of this table,” the witch continued.

Severus, who had been lifting a spoonful of oatmeal to his mouth, froze.

“You think just because of one drunken tryst, the Professor belongs to you, even though he’s told you publicly and I imagine privately that he wants NOTHING to do with you. Instead of accepting him at his word, you constantly plague him, try to cast love spells on him and generally make a pain in the ass of yourself, not to mention subject the rest of us to your mad delusions. You refuse to see the truth right in front of your face, Sybil. How do you expect me to take anything you say to me seriously? I’ve worked on myself Sybil, you need to do the same…inside. Find some peace for gods' sake and stop blaming everyone else for your shortcomings!”

Hermione pushed her plate away, rose and started walking swiftly from the dais, her back turned toward Sybil. She didn’t see the witch draw her wand.

But Severus did.

Her eyes glittering madly, Sybil rose and started to cast a truly unforgivable curse. Severus’ eyes widened and he drew out his own wand, startling Hermione who turned around to see Sybil standing up, her face contorted with hatred.

“Take this, you little bitch!” the witch screamed, pointing her wand at Hermione.

“Cruc…”

That was as far as she got.

“Expelliamus!” Severus shouted, blasting Sybil across the dais and into the wall, just as several students entered.

Hermione hugged herself, trembling. Sybil had been about to cast the Cruciatus curse on her.

And Professor Snape had saved her.

The wizard pocketed his wand, stood up and walked down the dais to the fallen witch, checking her vitals. She was still alive. He picked up her wand.

Well, Hermione had effectively solved his Sybil Trelawney problem. The witch was out of Hogwarts and destined for Azkaban. It was her own fault. He looked at Hermione.

“Go get Poppy and Albus,” Severus said to the witch.

Hermione nodded and hurried out of the Great Hall and to the nearest floo. She couldn’t believe what had just happened. The witch had tried to really, physically hurt her.

What a morning this turned out to be.

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A/N: Wow. Sybil went off the deep end, but Severus came to the rescue. Whew. Please review.