Transfiguration of the Heart

Thank you so much to the reviewers. I’ve been remiss in thanking all of you for your kind comments in the past few chapters. Just know that it’s a fuel that keeps my plot bunnies burning bright.


Chapter 8- The Approved Professor Snape Grading Method

It became clear, shortly after Tonks’ unceremonious entrance, what the reason was behind no one else being up and moving around. According to a rather haggard-looking Viktor, after their desserts the previous evening, the men had gone on the wizarding equivalent of a stag night, while the women spent the evening together drinking and telling stories. Hermione was not surprised that she had not caught wind of this until now, but she had thought that Viktor might have told her what his plans were beforehand.

Not that she had thought once about him the previous night after they parted company.

His absence had allowed her some time to talk with Snape… something that was quickly becoming a favored thing to do. She had never thought she would ever be able to say she enjoyed speaking to him, taking into consideration having had to endure his constant berating while in his classes for seven straight years. But he was different now. Changed, perhaps, but he said no one ever truly changed, and she was beginning to believe that. Had she really just learned something more about him that had enlightened her to who he really was? Or perhaps it was Snape finally learning that she was an adult woman now, and one he could at least converse with, without having to be rude and arrogant about it. Not that he still did not have that tone in his voice…

But he had not gone on the stag night either.

She had never understood the concept of a stag or hen night—going out, drinking and then watching women take their clothes off. What was the purpose of it anyway? Someone was about to married, for crying out loud, and should not have been indulging his or her fantasies at a burlesque lounge. If the marriage would be successful, both the man and woman entering into the union should have been able to quell the fantasies of the other. Of course she knew that was an idealistic viewpoint, and perhaps why she was as inexperienced and standoffish as she was around men coming onto her, but she still thought stag nights an outdated institution.

Did Snape think so as well, and that was why he wandered into the library? Or had he not been invited either?

After breakfast, Hermione found herself walking about the grounds in the light of day, investigating. Those who were involved with the wedding were making ready, and she very much enjoyed the time to be alone with her thoughts. Well, that was until she came upon Remus and Tonks feeling each other up in a secluded section in the gardens. The couple had parted quickly, noticing her, a red tinge spreading across Tonks’ cheeks and Remus’ ears. They welcomed her, though, and laughed at being caught. It was not a widely confirmed fact that the couple were together, or that they shared chambers at Hogwarts, but neither had ever wished to be quite public about it. After all, the restrictions on werewolves were quite stifling and could only hinder the relationship if someone knew about them in complete certainty.

“So you came with Viktor Krum?” Tonks asked, looking down at her as a small smile played on her lips.

Hermione always pictured Tonks as the older, slightly crazier, sister she never had. Tonks had, from the very beginning of their friendly relationship, always taken to that position as well. The metamorphmagus had said more than once that she considered herself Hermione’s sister as well. They argued, they laughed, and they both looked out for the other. They really were two peas in a pod, to use the old adage, even if their personalities were on opposite sides of the spectrum.

Asking about Viktor and the possible love interest between them was only one of Tonks’ sisterly prerogatives.

“I did,” Hermione said quietly.

“You have good taste,” Tonks said, receiving a short scoff from the man walking beside her.

“As do you,” Hermione replied, glancing at Remus. He smiled. It was odd for her to say something like this to him, one of her former professors… it just felt wrong to her. But if she were to say that about someone like Snape, she was not entirely sure she would feel so strangely about it, and that was just plain weird.

“Thank you Hermione,” he said and raised a challenging brow at Tonks.

Hermione smiled, “You’re quite welcome.”

“Do you two need a room?” Tonks questioned harshly, but the smile on her own face betrayed her tone.

“No,” Hermione said, “Remus is all yours, Nymphadora.”

It was indeed odd to call herself a friend to a man who had run around with Harry’s father in his youth, but she had slowly been realizing that after twenty, age did not really matter any more as long as you were a productive adult in society.

“It’s a good thing I like you, kid,” Tonks said and chuckled. “I know you’ve been in contact with Viktor for some time outside of the Order. Are you two hiding something?”

Hermione shook her head and let her eyes drift to the light blue sky, laced with fluffy white clouds. “It’s nothing. He keeps pushing for more, but I keep pushing him away. He doesn’t take the hint.”

Tonks gave her an incredulous look, “I’ve seen you two the past week. Sometimes it seems like you’re egging him on.”

“I’m guilty of it,” she said, “but it’s something to entertain myself with. I’ve exhausted the supply of reading material in the library, so I don’t have that to entertain me.”

“You should be grading papers,” Remus remarked.

Both she and Tonks scoffed, brushing him off. Hermione shrugged, “I’m taking to the Approved Professor Snape Method of Grading.”

“And what’s that?” Remus asked.

“Give everyone a failing grade unless I particularly like them,” Hermione said. “It makes everything a bit simpler.”

“That’s unfair Hermione,” Tonks said with a short laugh. “He never really liked you and still you faired well enough.”

Hermione nodded, “True.”

Unless he liked me more than he let on.

“But I’ve found out that a lot of what those children write is quite awful and horribly researched,” she said. “Professor Snape was right. We were all once dunderheads.”

Remus and Tonks both laughed at that. Both had known the Potions Master from different eras of his life, Remus when he was a teenager, and Tonks when he was a professor, but they still both understood her observation and choice of words. Calling his incompetent students ‘dunderheads’ was one of his habits, and from the way it sounded, Snape had said the insult many times as a boy. Severus Snape apparently had not changed since his childhood.

“You would have gotten along well with Severus,” Remus said. “I know we were never really friendly with each other when we were at school together, with my associations with James and all, but I did know Severus pretty well.”

“Really?” Hermione asked. She had not once thought that she could prod for more information on Snape from Remus, until he mentioned it.

Remus laughed, “Knowing how much time he spent in the library, and how much time you spent in the library… had you been in the same years as him, you would have developed some sort of kinship even if you are a Gryffindor.”

Hermione chuckled and shook her head. “It’s possible, though it’s hard for me to think he could see me as anything other than an insufferable know-it-all, as he’s called me many times.”

Remus snorted, “Insufferable… it takes one to know one, that is all I have to say.”

She had always suspected as much, considering how the Marauders treated Snape.

“He probably sees so much of himself in you, that he can’t help but be bitter,” Remus continued.

Hermione held her hand up to stop him. “I doubt that. Snape and I are two very different people.”

“That you are,” Tonks nodded as they walked out of the alcove of high hedges and toward the large manor house again. A quiet lunch followed for them, talking about nothing spectacularly important, though it did have Hermione’s mind on overdrive.

Were she and Snape really so much alike?

-----------------------------------

Severus backed away from the tall hedge, a million thoughts going through his head. The first and foremost thought was that he was thankful for not being caught, but he also had to laugh at himself for that. After all, he had been a spy for so long, he did not know how not to sneak around and listen into conversations without being discovered.

The next grouping of thoughts were all a mishmash of things, that he could not even begin to separate for the life of him. There was one central theme to them, though, and that was Hermione Granger.

He was never one for over-sentimentality (as a matter of fact, he found such things disgusting and demeaning), but he could not help but feel somewhat stricken with the insane need to profess a love he really did not have for the girl, and only because what he had just heard. That conversation, though… that conversation would be on his mind for quite a long while.

Remus would receive a year’s supply of the finest brewed Wolfsbane Potion for no compensation whatsoever, only because of the conversation he just had with Hermione that was unknowingly overheard.

Usually he would be livid that his younger years were being discussed without him being present and without his permission—with a former student no less—but now hearing that Hermione at least understood where he was coming from as a conflicted ex-Death Eater and professor was priceless. Just the fact that she seemed to understand that everyone was indeed a dunderhead, no matter how you looked at it (though some were worse than others), was amazingly surprising in itself.

But to hear that tone of awe in her voice when she was describing her grading troubles was enough to make him…

He was mad. That’s what he was… mad! Loonier than the Obliviated Lockhart.

This was Hermione Granger. Gryffindor. Know-it-all. Potter’s friend. Little child Miss Granger. She had no breasts, or curvaceous hips and long legs. No, no, no!

He should not have let his mind wander this far, especially after last night! But that conversation at breakfast had gotten him to thinking. Perhaps they were more alike than he dared to admit? Apparently Lupin saw it.

He could not believe how flustered he had gotten earlier in the day, almost admitting aloud that he found her particularly pleasing to his eyes. He could thank Nymphadora for being such a klutz, as well. That fiasco had saved him from the potential of a very awkward situation had he needed to explain away his observation of her beauty.

His stomach growled. He had nothing to eat at breakfast, only his tea, and his body was screaming for sustenance. Did he dare follow them to the dining room? Did he trust himself enough to not let his tongue slip and get himself into trouble for eavesdropping, or for much more damning things? He could employ his sarcastic defenses again, but he just did not feel up to maintaining them at the moment. Not now and with all this happening.

He felt like a lust-driven teen again, on his way to rendezvous with…

Lily.

Now that did it. The decidedly happy, incredibly flimsy, little bubble that had built up around him, burst instantly as the thought of the beautiful, intelligent, red-haired witch reared in his mind. True, there was no Potter to contend with, but Krum was no better. He had seen the exact same things happen and heard the same when he was a teenager. Lily had never been really enamored with Potter in the beginning, and only entertained the arrogant prat because she had nothing better to do. At night or in the library, Lily would see him and they would talk. He had always known her better than Potter ever did, and still she chose him.

Look at how that turned out…

But Hermione was not Lily.

He hated confliction like this, more than anything else.

Now that he truly took a moment to think about it, that tone in Hermione’s voice was most likely just one of admiration she felt for him as a professor, not as a person or anything more. There was no need to jump to conclusions with only a tone of voice as evidence. He knew better than that.

Before he knew it, he found himself sweeping into the dining room and gathering food on a plate before settling into a seat at the furthest end of the long table away from Hermione, Tonks and Lupin. They must have sensed his mood and gave him a wide berth for a few moments. That was until he heard her voice.

“Must you sit so far away, Professor?” she asked. “Really, we won’t bite…”

He met her eyes.

“Well,” she giggled, “one of us might on a full moon…”

And that was what finally sent him over the edge. If she only knew how close he had come to being bitten by the werewolf sitting beside her. Had it not been for that damned Potter saving him…

“You find that amusing, do you Miss Granger?” His voice would have wilted the most hearty flower.

She did not shy away one bit and only gave him a disinterested look before turning back to her friends and her meal.

If his mood could get any worse, it did when Krum walked into the room and dropped heavily into a seat beside Granger. Hermione looked at her paramour and smiled slightly, “Aren’t you supposed to be with Draco?”

“Lucius is giving him his last bits of fatherly wisdom,” Krum said.

Severus tried not to snort at that comment, but it was too hard to hold in. He noticed Hermione’s glance at him and the quirk of her brow before looking at Viktor. “Fatherly wisdom? Be a snob, carry a big stick, beat your house-elves… and above all else, maintain the pure Malfoy name or so help him he will ‘take Draco out of the world’, just as he brought him in?”

“Cissy would never let that happen,” Severus said before he could stop himself.

And Viktor had the audacity to agree with a nod of his head and a chuckle. “Lucius vould be gelded if that happened.”

The thought quieted the room a bit, and he noticed both Remus and Viktor shudder at the thought. Severus rolled his eyes and turned back to his meal, trying not to pay attention to low talking and little giggles Granger was affording Krum. Really, that boy could have anything his heart so desired, why did he have to have Hermione?

Because she’s the last thing that has withstood his charm, Severus.

For that matter, what did the girl see in the overgrown brute anyway? He was not smart, he was not exceptionally handsome, but he did have gobs of money and was admired by many, many women around the world. No doubt that Granger’s insatiable need for being recognized was being filled whenever she went anywhere on Krum’s arm. And they would have reasonably attractive children. Viktor had so much to offer her, as she was concerned, but Severus knew that Krum was not right for the insufferable girl.

Though, Severus knew he had none of those things to personally offer to someone like her. No looks, no notoriety, no life outside of Hogwarts. His funds were sparse and he certainly would not produce attractive children with her. Oh, but how intelligent and powerful they would be.

Merlin’s balls.

Why was he thinking like this? He did not like her and he most certainly did not envy Krum. Severus Snape was not an envious person. He was a spiteful, lonely man who wanted nothing more than to never have to plead with someone to love him again. He would not, and could not, do it, especially in such similar circumstances.

One thing was for certain, though. Hermione would be receiving a large stack of old books from his personal collection so that she would not have to spend her free time affording Krum the attention she gave him, born out of an idle mind.