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 8 ~

Hermione spent the rest of the morning in Dumbledore’s office with Severus and Sybil. The Divination teacher was full of apologies and remorse, but it wasn’t enough.

“Sybil, you attempted to cast an unforgivable on another staff member. Most of your previous hexes were thrown with drink involved, but you made a sober, conscious effort to harm the Spells Mistress. As you know, Unforgivables are immediate grounds for serving a life sentence in Azkaban,” Albus said, his eyes dark.

Sybil let out a moaning sob.

“I will attempt to convince the Ministry to give you a lesser sentence…but it is likely you will have to spend a number of years there regardless. You should have held your temper, Sybil,” the Headmaster said.

Despite being Sybil’s intended target, Hermione felt horrible for the witch. Azkaban?

“Headmaster, I did say some things that were very hurtful to Sybil,” Hermione said, “I might have driven her to it.”

“A noble attempt at compassion, Spells Mistress, but wasted,” Severus said silkily, his eyes resting on Sybil coldly. “It could have as easily been the Killing curse. They are all considered one and the same. She deserves Azkaban.”

Sybil looked at Severus with wide eyes.

“How…how could you say such a thing, Severus…after all we’ve been through together…” the witch began.

“Sybil…we’ve been through nothing. I despise you and warned you all of your flagrant spell casting would catch up to you. You’ve overstepped your bounds on numerous occasions, and you’ve gone too far this time. You are getting what you deserve, and I for one am happy to see you go,” the Potions Master said coldly.

There was a knock on the door. Sybil let out another sob.

“Come in,” Albus said.

Two Aurors walked in.

“We are here for Sybil Trelawney,” one of the Aurors said soberly, looking from Hermione to Sybil. He looked back at Hermione, eyeing her for a moment before his eyes fell back on Dumbledore. Quite a pretty little witch there.

Albus nodded toward Sybil.

“This is Professor Trelawney,” he said, his voice sounding old and tired as he turned over his Divination teacher of many years to the Aurors.

Albus wondered if he shouldn’t have let her go years ago. But the witch had no one. He didn’t want to turn her out into the world alone. Now he realized he had made a mistake.

The Aurors walked over and helped the sobbing witch to her feet. One Auror pulled out his wand and placed shackles on her hands and feet.

“Oh, is that really necessary?” Hermione asked, her eyes glistening at Sybil’s plight.

“Standard procedure,” the Auror replied as Severus handed him Sybil’s wand.

The Auror snapped it in half, Sybil crying out as she saw it.

“Can you at least disillusion her, so the students won’t see her leaving in chains?” Hermione implored.

Severus looked at her narrow-eyed. Typical Gryffindor.

The Auror looked at Hermione for a long moment.

“All right,” he said, casting a disillusionment spell on the witch. Sybil disappeared, a slight shimmer the only proof she was still there. “But only because you asked me so sweetly.”

Severus rolled his eyes.

“Thank you,” Hermione replied, blushing a little.

“Sybil, I will be at the Ministry this afternoon to see if I can influence them. I can’t promise you anything, my dear. I am so sorry to see you come to this,” Albus said, his blue eyes dark with sadness.

Sybil sobbed in answer, then the Aurors led her out.

Severus let out a sigh and leaned back in his chair, a very smug and satisfied look on his face. Finally Sybil Trelawney was out of his life for good.

Hermione, on the other hand, looked stricken. She had someone sent to Azkaban, possibly for life. Why hadn’t she just kept her mouth shut? Then Sybil wouldn’t have tried to cast the curse on her.

Albus looked at the witch sympathetically.

“It’s not your fault, Hermione. Sybil knew Unforgivables meant Azkaban,” he said to the Spells Mistress.

“Yes, but if I hadn’t goaded her…” Hermione began.

Severus let out an exasperated sigh. He didn’t want to hear all this senseless self-incrimination.

“Miss Granger…I was there. Sybil goaded you and when you told her what you thought, rather than respond in like manner she chose to try and hex you when your back was turned. With an Unforgivable no less. You are not at fault so shut up about it,” he said coldly. “It’s over with.”

Hermione frowned at the pale wizard.

“You’re just happy she’s gone,” she said to the wizard.

“Happy isn’t the word. Ecstatic is a more fitting description, Miss Granger,” Severus replied with a dark smirk. “I must say it is an emotion I haven’t felt for a very long time, and I have you to thank for it.”

The Potions Master stood up and gave Hermione a little bow, the witch scowling at him. He then turned to face the Headmaster.

“I take it you have no further need of me, Headmaster?” he said to Albus, who waved him off.

The wizard cut his eyes toward Hermione once more then exited Albus’ office.

When the door closed, Hermione looked at the Headmaster.

“Professor Snape really is a piece of work,” the witch said, still scowling. “He’s really glad Sybil’s gone to Azkaban.”

“Yes, he is,” the Headmaster agreed. “Sybil was an aggravation to the wizard to be sure. I did my best to keep him from doing her harm. I never thought the witch would end up causing her own downfall.”

Hermione looked thoughtful.

“Well, he did protect me from her,” the witch said, “So he can’t be all bad.”

The Headmaster looked at the witch.

“Most likely his response was reactionary, rather than noble, Hermione,” the Headmaster said. “Severus rarely extends himself for anyone, unless there is some benefit in doing so.”

Hermione considered this. The Headmaster was probably right. No need trying to attach anything noble to Professor Snape since his spying days were over. He had done nothing for anyone since. Then Hermione realized something. She hadn’t thanked the wizard for stopping Sybil.

Well, she’d do it later. He probably would just grunt at her anyway, if that. Hermione looked at Albus.

“If that’s all, Headmaster, I need to go. Have to visit my parents for lunch. Mum hates it when I’m late,” the witch said.

“Yes, that is all, Hermione. I only hope you don’t blame yourself for this. As Severus said so bluntly, Sybil brought this all on herself,” he said softly.

Hermione nodded.

“Yes, sir,” she replied, exiting the office.

It was going to take a little while to let all of this sink in. Sybil getting sacked would be one thing…but going to prison…that was what was so hard to take in all this. Hermione was more of the mind that Sybil needed psychological help rather than Azkaban, but there were no wizarding psychoanalysts. A muggle psychiatrist would have her on drugs the minute the witch started talking about the magical world.

Hermione sighed at all the drama of the day. As she made her way down the shifting staircases, she knew there would be even more drama went she saw her parents. She headed back to her rooms to get her traveling cloak.

“Well mum, this is it,” the witch said to herself as she headed up the corridor into the main hall and out the main doors to the grounds.

She felt a bit as if she were heading for sentencing.

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”Where is she? It’s five minutes after twelve and I told her lunch was to be served at precisely twelve noon. I swear, Hermione is just so thoughtless,” Jane Granger seethed, pacing back and forth in front of the dining room table.

Hermione’s mother was short and chestnut-haired just like Hermione, but she had blue eyes. She was also rather stout in middle age, just the way John Granger liked her. Hermione’s father was a big, broad man, six-foot in height, with thick blonde-grayish hair, amber eyes and a big, slightly hooked nose. He was seated at the table, watching his wife stalk back and forth, working herself up as normal.

John was a rather quiet man. He had to be, otherwise Jane would be all over him. He found out over the years it was better to let his wife rampage then try to reason with her. Jane believed she knew the answers to all the world’s ills, if people would just listen to her advice and follow through. She was an excellent dentist, however. Her patients knew to listen to her…or else.

Suddenly the front door opened and Hermione walked in, her hood up.

Jane stopped pacing and immediately put her hands on her hips.

“Oh, so you finally made it, young lady. The food is lukewarm now, thanks to your tardiness,” Jane said, frowning at her daughter. “Now get over here and sit down. I’m starving.”

Hermione lowered her hood and her mother gasped.

“Hermione Jane Granger! What did you do to your teeth?” her mother demanded, appalled. “I thought we agreed that you would not use magic to straighten them.”

Hermione sighed and looked at her mother before crossing the flat and sitting down at the table. Jane sat down across from the witch, studying her face and hair.

“What have you done to yourself?” her mother asked her.

“I got tired of looking like a one-browed, bucked-toothed troll, mum. I got a makeover,” Hermione said, looking down at the greasy fish and chips. She couldn’t eat that.

“A troll? A makeover? Hermione, what has gotten into you? Nothing was wrong with the way you looked. You looked fine. Now you look like some kind of …well…hot little piece,” her mother said. “How will men respect you for your mind, looking like that?”

Hermione didn’t say anything, and she didn’t eat. John Granger was looking at his daughter. Personally, he thought Hermione had done admirably following their directives for all these years without much visible improvement in her teeth. He also thought she looked good, damned good. He cut his eyes at his wife for a moment, then looked down at his food.

“Mum, everyone respects me for my mind, but laughed at me because of how I looked. You have to admit I was a fright,” Hermione said, still not eating.

“You were…natural,” her mother said.

“I’m natural now, mum. I just had my teeth fixed and my unibrow separated. My hair is all natural as well,” Hermione replied.

“You call using magic natural?” her mother spat at her.

“For me? Yes, mother…being that I am a witch, magic IS natural. It’s about time I took advantage of it. I look good and I feel good now. You should be happy for me,” Hermione said, then she looked down at her plate. “I can’t eat this mum.”

Jane glowered at her.

“What do you mean you can’t eat it? You’ve always eaten my fish and chips. What, now that you’ve prettied yourself up you’re too good to eat my cooking?” her mother asked her, frowning blackly.

“No, mum. It’s not that. It’s just that it’s too greasy. Greasy foods make my skin blotchy,” Hermione said, “See the improvement? That’s because I’ve cut back on it.”

Jane sniffed.

“After I’ve gone through all this trouble,” she said, sounding hurt and trying to make Hermione feel guilty. The witch didn’t.

“I can’t eat it, mum,” Hermione said again.

“Fine,” her mother said, jumping up and snatching the plate of food from Hermione and storming off into the kitchen. Hermione looked at her father, who sighed.

“If it’s any consolation, I think you look wonderful. I don’t blame you for fixing your teeth, kitten. You tried to do it our way for years. Smile for me,” he said.

Hermione gave him a smile.

“Whoever did it did a fine job,” her father said, smiling at his daughter.

Hermione stood up and walked over to him and gave him a kiss on the cheek. Her father blushed.

“Thanks, dad,” the witch said, love shining in her eyes. “I wish mum was more supportive.”

“Your mum just has a hard time letting go, Hermione. She loves you but doesn’t want to admit you’re all grown up. Every independent move you make takes you farther and farther away in her opinion. This is her way of trying to keep you close,” her father said as Hermione returned to her seat.

Jane Granger returned, carrying a bowl of lettuce, tomato, cheese and ham. She slid it in front of Hermione.

“Here. This won’t ruin your complexion,” her mother said, sitting down and scowling at her. “I only added a touch of vinegar and oil along with some herbs.”

“Thanks mum,” Hermione said, smiling at her mother.

She might not like the changes Hermione made, but at least she was being supportive in a snarky kind of way.

Jane looked at her hair.

“Your hair is so curly. Maybe you should straighten it a bit,” she suggested.

“Maybe,” Hermione said, digging into her salad.

Hermione wasn’t going to touch her hair. It was fine as it was.

“I still wish you would have continued using the retainer,” Jane said, looking at her mouth.

“Mum, eight years is long enough, really,” Hermione said, “You say you want grandchildren. How am I supposed to give them to you when no wizard would come anywhere near me? They probably thought I’d bite their lips off if they kissed me.”

John brought a napkin to his mouth to hide his grin. But his eyes were smiling and Jane scowled at him.

“Don’t encourage her, John,” Jane said.

“All right dear,” John replied, mirth in his voice.

Jane sighed. Her husband was no help. She looked back at her daughter, who was smiling at her father. She really did have quite a pretty smile. Hermione didn’t smile often when her teeth were bucked. Maybe it was good she had it done. She seemed happier.

“Ah well, it’s done now. I suppose it’s irreversible,” Jane said wistfully.

“Definitely,” Hermione responded.

Like she’d ever change back.

Jane studied her daughter for a moment, then shrugged.

“It’ll take a little while, but I suppose I can get used to it. Anything that moves me closer to becoming a grandmother can’t be all bad,” Jane said, smirking a bit as she cut a piece of fish and ate it.

Hermione felt all warm inside. Her mum had accepted the change with a minimum of fuss. Thank the gods. Happily she tucked into her salad, thinking this was the best visit she had with her parents in a long, long time.

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A/N: All right. Severus practically said he was in Hermione’s debt for getting Sybil to go into meltdown. She has yet to thank him for stopping the witch. Her mum was a bit bitchy but acquiesced quickly enough. She must realize her daughter has her own life to live. John Granger seems like a big, hen-pecked teddy bear, but it is easy to see he loves his daughter. More than likely he goes along with his wife to keep peace in the house. Now that Hermione’s dealt with Hogwarts, Sybil and her parents, we can move the story along. Please review this chapter. And I haven’t said it lately, but I really appreciate all of your reviews ***