Fic: Curtain

[therealsnape]

Title: Curtain
Rating: PG-13
Word Count: 8000
Characters and/or Pairings: Severus/Hermione
Summary: An outrageous tale in which Severus isn’t dead, and Hermione isn’t going to marry Ron nor work for the Ministry. Instead, Post-Battle Hogwarts needs money for rebuilding, and one of the fundraising projects is a Hogwarts Calendar. A tragi-comedy in five scenes and some interludes.
Warnings: Improper use of Sartre, crises existentialistes, one or two instances of Smiling!Severus.
Disclaimer: All characters and the world they live in are JKR’s. She also owns an Epilogue, but we chose to ignore it.
Author's Notes: Written for hoggywartyxmas, and finally reposted here because I'm spring-cleaning my fics and reposting them all. The help of my marvellous betas kellychambliss and tetleythesecond was invaluable as always.


In the beginning, Heaven was perfect.

Then it was not bad, considering.

In the end, it was Hell. And yes, the change was brought about by Others.

*~*~*~*~*~*
In the beginning, there were just sensations. No pain. And something beyond the mere absence of pain; something actively pleasant. Softness. Floating on something wonderfully soft, that followed the lines of one’s body. Funny, that there was still a body to feel with. Heaven, clearly, was a place where that body was finally, utterly, supremely comfortable. There was crispness, too, covering him. The crispness was pleasant as well. Severus didn’t know whether he actually had a head to smile with, but some part of him smiled as he remembered the advice he’d repeated to generations of exam-wary students: “Don’t change things – the first choice is often the best.” True. So very true.

If this was Death, he could eat it. With a spoon.

*~*~*~*~*~*
Then, there was a voice. A deep, booming voice. Severus wondered briefly if this meant there was a God. The rich bass seemed to imply that it was, indeed, a God as opposed to a Goddess or a neutral Guiding Principle.

Then he recognized the voice, and he nearly smiled again. Shacklebolt would be flattered. That was a good thing. Too many recent leaders of the Wizarding World would have thought it a ”very logical misunderstanding, my dear fellow! “ And then a hearty laugh or a merry twinkle, and the dangerous conviction that they were given their due. Not Shacklebolt. He would be surprised, and a bit embarrassed. Good Minister Material, as Minerva and he had agreed before.

Only …

That he had just heard Shacklebolt meant Shacklebolt had died, too. Pity. Minerva could have done with a decent Minister. Taking over Hogwarts would be quite complicated enough. It was worrying. Surely, Heaven shouldn’t contain worries? On the other hand, whatever chap they came up with, Minerva would have him house-trained in no time. It wasn’t his concern – not really. Hogwarts was now another country. And besides, the lad was dead.

Pity about the voice, though. It was disruptive. Still, Heaven was not bad, considering …


*~*~*~*~*~*

And then, one morning, he woke up to find that it was Hell. The physical comfort was delicious as always. He had got accustomed to the voices, sometimes near, sometimes far off. He had stopped trying to recognize them. But now, they were too close to ignore. Worse, it wasn’t just voices, it was words. He was listening to what could only be described as The Dialogue from Hell.

Well, that put him in his place, then.

“… has had a very bad time, but he’s healing.”

Poppy Pomfrey. Poor Poppy – she here? She didn’t deserve to die. And Minerva – it was hard to think of Minerva in terms of ‘broken’, but if anything could achieve that, it would be losing Poppy. At least, Poppy had her idea of Heaven: a place where everyone would heal.

“Oh, dear, I doubt it. I wish you were right, of course, but I’m afraid the Inner Eye foresees a different ending. All the signs tell me quite clearly he won’t be with us for long …”

Sybill Trelawney. Merlin’s scrote, he was in the same place as Trelawney. Now, if Heaven did have a Management, he wanted to see Him, Her or It, and he’d have quite a bit to say about this.

And then the full horror dawned upon him. Sybill Trelawney had just predicted his death. That meant he was actually alive. Worse, it meant that his remaining chances of kicking the bucket were null and void. He was alive, with the full guarantee of a ripe old age that came with a Trelawney Death Sign.

Alive and in the Sick Ward.

Alive and in Hogwarts, therefore.

Alive and in the Post-War Wizarding World, as a consequence.

Now, what was his position, exactly? Once the first shock ebbed away, Severus found himself thinking analytically again. There was some relief in that. Fact: he had heard Kingsley some time ago. Therefore Kingsley had been in Hogwarts. If the Dark Lord had won, Kingsley would have been dead or in Azkaban. Ergo: Potter had made it. That was good – he supposed.

Now, his personal position. Currently prostrate in the Sick Ward. If Poppy managed to patch him up, and he wouldn’t put it past her, then what? A trial for being a known Death Eater? That would mean Azkaban. He briefly considered the Dementors. Say of them what you liked, they did keep a very clean prison – with private cells. On the other hand, Fate and its sick sense of humour would probably ensure that his imprisonment came at a time when demand outstretched availability to the point where cells would have to be shared.

The other option was that Potter would have told them all about those final moments in the Shrieking Shack. Come to think of it, if Potter hadn’t, then Minerva had. They had worked together well for most of the year – once she’d realized the truth about Albus’s death. She would want to clear his name – trust a Gryffindor. He might be a war hero.

With a groan, Severus buried his head deeper in what he now knew to be a plump pillow.

Hell is The Others. The man who wrote that, Muggle or not, had his head screwed on right.

In later years, when he thought back to the events of November 1998, he often smiled at the irony of his Muggle playwright comparison. The weeks following his realization that Hell was, indeed, The Others, his life seemed to turn into a play, all right. And every scene of it was etched on his mind with astonishing clarity. Was it because of the weeks of semi-consciousness that had preceded it, or was it merely that the daily routine of a sick ward had been boring in the extreme, and that, for that very reason, he had gone over the events again and again?

*~*~*~*~*~*
Scene 1, Hogwarts’s sick ward. Severus is in bed with his eyes closed – that is, he closes them as soon as he hears footsteps approaching his room. Enter Minerva McGonagall.

MINERVA: Good morning, Severus. I hear that you’re making progress. Severus? There’s no need to lie there like a dying swan. We know you would rather be dead; you made that perfectly clear. You’re not, so stop sulking.

(Slowly, Severus opens his eyes)

SEVERUS: I’m not sulking. I’m trying to recover from nearly-fatal wounds, and I need my rest.

MINERVA: Not any longer, you don’t. You needed rest when we found you. And you got it – months of it. Right now, you need to take an interest in things again. That’s why I’ve come to see you.

SEVERUS: And what am I supposed to take an interest in? The Potter-worship? The memorial services? The trials?

MINERVA: Yes, at some point you’ll have to take an interest in the trials – you are the only reliable witness of many Death Eater activities. But the Ministry fully realizes that you can’t attend court sessions yet. No, for the moment it would be best – Poppy agrees on this – that you limit your interests to some small, manageable project. I was thinking of Hogwarts.

SEVERUS: Hogwarts? I’ve no doubt you’re a highly efficient Headmistress – you’ve all but run the place for the past thirty-odd years. But Hogwarts is neither small nor manageable, and we both know it. After all, I was Headmaster for a year.

MINERVA: And you made an excellent job of it, under dreadful circumstances, too. I didn’t mean that you should take over Hogwarts. Sound job though you did, I wouldn’t say that the Headship made the best use of your talents. Let me explain myself. As you’ll realize, Hogwarts is half in ruins; rebuilding it will cost a lot of money.

SEVERUS: Surely the Ministry will provide?

MINERVA: The Ministry is practically penniless as well. They had major reconstruction to do after the Prophecy Incident, remember?

(SEVERUS smiles)

MINERVA: A smile, Severus? This is progress, indeed.

SEVERUS: No, it’s what being a weak invalid does for you. But to hear the night in which Dumbledore’s Idiots and the Flaming Phoenixes had their wandfight with the Boys in Black described as the Incident is rather irresistible.

MINERVA (smiles back): Well, what with that and various other things, the Ministry is penniless. Gringott’s used to be a rather substantial donator, but they, too, have their little difficulties.

SEVERUS: You mean, such as having the premises done over by a half-blind, half-mad dragon?

MINERVA: Exactly. So the net result for Hogwarts is that we must manage on our own. A massive effort at fundraising will be made. The effort will involve everyone in the castle, students and staff alike.

SEVERUS: Minerva, much as I dislike adding to your burdens, I must tell you that I plan to resign. No-one will force me to teach yet another load of dunderheads. If I’m to have a life sentence, I’ll spend it alone. In my own home, in my own company – and that of my books.

MINERVA: Severus, I can’t accept your resignation – not yet, at least. Firstly, because you’re not your old self yet. You might regret your decision at some point. And secondly, because you can’t manage on your own. You can just about feed and clean yourself, but everything else needs to be done for you.

SEVERUS: I had hoped that you would allow me to recover here.

MINERVA: Oh, I will! Of course I will, Severus, you can’t doubt that. But you must see that I can’t let you be idle during convalescence. It would show preference. Since you’re well enough, you’ll have to contribute like everyone else. Now, about the various fund-raising projects. They have all been chosen with the combined aims of raising money and promoting inter-house collaboration. We feel that the emphasis on House rivalry has done more bad than good. And now, especially, with the offspring of former Death Eathers and the families of their victims …

SEVERUS: You mean the Slytherins risk being lynched on account of their being Slytherin. Don’t worry. They’ll survive. They’re used to it, after all.

MINERVA: The anti-Slytherin attitude is one of the things that’ll have to change. But so does the Hufflepuff-is-the-dregs school of thought. And the all-Gryffindors-are-reckless-idiots idea. Even the every-Ravenclaw-is-a-bookworm theory could do with some new insights.

SEVERUS: And what, exactly, did you have in mind for me?

MINERVA: That was quite a difficult choice; there are several projects. The Christmas Party, for instance - lots of important people have accepted. It’s bound to be a success.

SEVERUS: But that’s nothing new –an End of Term feast…

MINERVA: Not a feast. A party. For adults – the students will serve the drinks, man the cloak room and such, but it’s to be quite a society event.

SEVERUS: Well, I can barely lift a spoon; you can’t ask me to serve nibbles. Or dance.

MINERVA: Indeed, no. Nor would you be much good on the Mixed House Sports Event that Rolanda is organizing with her team. And in your current state, you couldn’t work in the hothouses, either.

SEVERUS: The hothouses?

MINERVA: Yes, Pomona and some students grow rare plants from seed, to sell them. They’re making quite a neat profit, and they expect to do very well at the party. No, what I had in mind for you is an idea we got from Rita Skeeter – she was in your house, I think?

SEVERUS: You know very well that she was. I have the strongest memories of her and her ideas. I’m almost afraid to ask …

MINERVA: She has suggested we put together a Twelve Months of Hogwarts calendar. With pictures of various Hogwarts people. She’s convinced it will sell quite well, especially if the pictures are a bit … unexpected. And the theme will be “Let’s all have fun together”.

SEVERUS: Minerva, please, let me retain some shred of confidence in humanity. Tell me it wasn’t you who came up with that sickening, saccharine, sherbet-like slogan.

MINERVA (smiling): Nice alliteration. And it wasn’t my idea, but it was, in the end, the least objectionable.

SEVERUS: It can’t have been.

MINERVA: How about Hogwarts is Love and My House Cup Runneth Over? Or A Hoggy Warty Year? Sorry, Severus, I shouldn’t have sprung that last one on you without warning. Do you need … a receptacle of some sort …?

SEVERUS: No, I don’t need a bucket. I’m a Shrieking Shack survivor. And thank you for reinforcing my death wish. How am I supposed to fit in? My well-known aptitude for all things fun?

MINERVA: No, your status of war hero. You’ll be able to secure the collaboration of the people they need to photograph. And, of course, you can keep the project team on track.

SEVERUS: The project team being?

MINERVA: A Hufflepuff with great talents for drawing and graphic images. A young Ravenclaw who is a very good photographer, and …

SEVERUS: A Ravenclaw? Surely that young man from your House, whatsisname? Creevey! That’s it. He was born holding a camera.

MINERVA: He died holding a wand.

SEVERUS (genuinely shocked): Oh, Merlin. Minerva, I’m sorry. I had no idea … he was a child, dammit!

MINERVA (softly): He was. (after a brief pause, a bit more business-like) : They plan to use one of his pictures, as a tribute – one of you, in fact. He caught you while you were grinning. Rather sardonically, but a Grinning Snape picture qualifies as ‘unexpected’. But to complete the list, the Gryffindor participant will organize things, come up with ideas, do research, and write the short biographies to go with the pictures.

SEVERUS: I see. I suppose the idea is that I assist and carry part of the burden – exercise some authority, when the youngsters try to do their own thing too much?

MINERVA: Exactly. Would you? It’s a job you can do from here – you’d just have to liaise with the Gryffindor – no need to exert yourself too much.

SEVERUS: I don’t have much choice, do I?

MINERVA: No, not really. Getting involved is good for you – it’s Healer’s orders. I know that you now want to suggest that I, or the world in general, screw all Healers, but it’s my orders, too. And don’t even think the obvious retort; you should be so lucky.

SEVERUS: And who exactly is the unfortunate boy who’ll work with me? You were right to assign that task to a Gryffindor. It’ll take courage.

MINERVA: It’s Miss Granger. And she has courage in spades.

(Exit Minerva McGonagall)

*~*~*~*~*~*
When he thought back to that first scene, he chuckled. It had been good to see Minerva again. And their banter was enjoyable as always.

But he had given in far too soon. For various reasons.

Creevey was one of them. One of the most annoying children it had ever been his misfortune to teach. Perpetually bouncy and optimistic. Often, when seeing Creevey, he had thought of the old saying The child is the father of the man. A horrifying idea. Even the prospect of O.W.L.’s hadn’t subdued the child. Nor had the Carrows, which had made him think that the man Creevey might turn into something halfway decent, after all. Had he died grinning?

But more than the news about Creevey, it had been Minerva’s reaction to it. She had told him with perfect composure and a flat voice, but he had seen the look in her eyes. It had made him realize just how much the Battle and its aftermath of death had done to her.

It had changed the disappointment into a form of understanding. For he had been disappointed, oh, yes. Especially when he had heard that Miss Granger was the one running that ludicrous calendar-project.

Look at it rationally. Miss Granger didn’t need his war-hero status to get people to pose. She was one of the Golden Trio. Nor did she need help with the research or writing: she could spout O-rated essays faster than Moaning Myrtle could spout tears. And she didn’t need any help in controlling her team, either. She had steered Potter and Weasley towards victory; anyone who could keep those two on track had the makings of a General.

No, this whole ridiculous ploy was a fine specimen of half-baked Muggle psychology. They must have discussed him, Poppy and Minerva. “Poor Severus, he has simply lost the will to live. If only he could get interested in something. Isn’t there anything he could do?” That would have been Poppy. “I know, he just isn’t his old self anymore.” Minerva’s contribution.

And together they had hatched this little idea. Poppy was optimistic enough to believe that it would be the making of him, and Minerva had agreed. Physically she might have come through unscathed, but she was clearly one of the Walking Wounded, too. Severus Snape tearing up his resignation letter, with a smile, stammering, “Hogwarts Saved Me,” preferably with some violins in the background? The Minerva he knew would never have agreed to such a pitiful plan.

He’d go along with the idea for now. In due course, Minerva would realize that it was a failure. She’d back out gracefully. And then he’d resign, he’d wrangle a war-pension out of the Ministry (Shacklebolt owed him that much, at least), and he’d retire to Spinner’s End and his books.

All he asked of Heaven (and Heaven owed him quite a bit, too) was that Miss Granger wasn’t aware of the double agenda. If the self-appointed Saviour of the House-Elves would start a Snape-Out-of-Depression campaign, the fourth Wizarding War would start right here in this Sick Ward.

*~*~*~*~*~*
(Scene two. The Sick Ward. Severus sits in a wheelchair and in his now much-too-wide black robes, with the determined expression of a man who is not too weak to be up, whatever the Healer may say. There is a second chair by his bed. Hermione Granger enters, clasping a clipboard and a quill.)

HERMIONE: Good afternoon, Professor Snape.

SEVERUS: Good afternoon, Miss Granger. I see that you come well-prepared?

(Hermione takes the second chair, takes up the quill, and starts ticking off items as she speaks)

HERMIONE: Quite. I’ve done some preliminary research. The first step seems to me to decide who will be in this calendar. Then I’ll have to establish the order of the pictures, arrange the photo shoots, and write the background stories. Then the graphics team can start.

SEVERUS: Admirable. The Pirelli company could learn a thing or two from you. Is there anything in particular that I should – or could – do, or is this to be the shortest committee meeting in history?

HERMIONE: There are several things you could do, Professor, and one of them is refraining from remarks about the Pirelli calendar. I’ve had quite enough of that during the Projects Meeting. I’m surprised you’ve heard about it.

SEVERUS: I’m half Muggle, Miss Granger. So my revered colleagues mentioned it?

HERMIONE: Not Pirelli exactly. But several of the male Board Members suggested that “a pretty girl always sells well”. And then the male Prefects felt encouraged to pipe up, too.

SEVERUS: I see. And your response to that was?

HERMIONE: I didn’t actually say anything – I just decided that I would take on this particular project.

SEVERUS: Miss Granger, you surprise me. You said nothing?

HERMIONE: I said nothing on the topic of images, no. I felt that the best policy would be not to get mad, but to get even. So I merely suggested “Let’s all have fun together” for a theme. Given the previous ideas, Professor McGonagall was eager to accept.

SEVERUS (chuckles): I’ve heard about My House Cup Runneth Over. Who, in Merlin’s name?

HERMIONE: Professor Trelawney.

SEVERUS: Oh, dear. I should have known. You may want to consider a picture of her with a cup that does runneth over …

HERMIONE: With cooking sherry? The thought crossed my mind, but we have to aim for ‘unexpected’.

(Severus and Hermione both grin at each other. When they realize what they’re doing, they stop and look elsewhere in a somewhat embarrassed way. )

SEVERUS: Anyhow. What did you have in mind?

HERMIONE: The idea was that every group should be represented. And that’s exactly what I plan, and why I proposed the present theme.

SEVERUS: I’m afraid I don’t quite see …

HERMIONE: It’s obvious. Everyone was thinking of a calendar with three from each House. This would mean, of course, carefully selecting people because they are Hufflepuffs, or Gryffindors, or whatever, and then pretend that their House doesn’t matter at all.

SEVERUS: People are rarely more patronizing when they are carefully being unprejudiced, you mean? The some of my best friends are … attitude?

HERMIONE: Exactly!

(Severus and Hermione smile at each other, then quickly look away again)

SEVERUS: I’m really curious now what you’re planning.

HERMIONE: Oh, I’ll have one person at least from each House – but that’s not difficult: they all have fascinating people. But for the other eight pictures, I plan to include everyone at Hogwarts.

SEVERUS: You mean …

HERMIONE: I mean House-Elves. Centaurs. Merpeople. I mean to ask Hagrid and Grawp to pose together. I’d like to have Professor Flitwick, too. Not because he’s head of Ravenclaw, but …

SEVERUS: … because he’s the only one with both Goblin blood and a connection to Hogwarts? I see what you mean by getting even, Miss Granger. But you may face quite a lot of opposition.

HERMIONE: I’ve thought about that, yes. But so far, I’ve used five pictures for the different groups. That leaves seven. And I plan to use those as my male committee members in their infinite wisdom suggested. When they ask for progress reports, I’ll tell them I’m following their excellent idea in collecting suitable subjects.

SEVERUS: Girls?

HERMIONE: Women, Professor. Interesting women. For December, I plan to ask Fleur Delacour – Fleur Weasley, now.

SEVERUS: Fleur Delacour? But she’s …

HERMIONE: She was a competitor at the Hogwarts Triwizard Tournament, so she has spent a year here. She’s part Veela, which includes yet another group. She’ll also be perfect for the cover picture. I do mean to sell a lot of calendars, Professor. And if she’s the picture for December, those calendars will not be thrown out before the year is over. It means that people have eleven months to look at my interpretation of the word together. And what I’d like to ask of you, Professor, if you feel up to it, of course, is to come up with some interesting witches. Adult witches. Then, at our next meeting, we can select the final twelve – and one or two runners-up, in case someone refuses. I’ll leave you for now; Madam Pomfrey warned me not to tire you.

(Severus nods several times, with just a hint of a smile. Hermione gets up, gathers her clipboard and quill, and walks towards the door. )

SEVERUS: Miss Granger, may I ask you a somewhat personal question?

(Hermione turns around and looks at Severus, slightly surprised.)

HERMIONE: What question, Professor?

SEVERUS: Did the Hat hesitate, however briefly, before it Sorted you?

HERMIONE (surprised): No. Why?

SEVERUS: Oh, nothing. I merely thought …

HERMIONE: You thought what, Professor?

SEVERUS: That you’d have made a fine Slytherin, Miss Granger.

HERMIONE: Oh, really? Thank you, Professor. That, at least, is an original notion.

(Exit Hermione)

*~*~*~*~*~*
Severus had gone over that scene several times. There were various surprising things. First of all, the extremely business-like way in which Miss Granger had started their conversation. Without as much as a How are you doing? It had sounded as if she found the whole calendar project rather unpleasant. Yet it was right up her street, and she was setting things up in an admirably devious manner.

And a second thing: when Miss Granger had mentioned Minerva, she had sounded almost irritated, which was very odd. At one time, his Slytherin girls had referred to her as Miss PMS. He had been surprised at the moniker; Miss Granger was often irritated, but not irrationally or periodically so. Then he had found out that PMS stood for Professor McGonagall Says, and he had realized that Miss Granger had quite a schoolgirl crush on her Head of House. He could understand that. But why the change? What had happened?

A further ground for thoughts was that he now had to come up with some clever and surprising ideas for suitable witches. It was very important he’d get them just right. Not that Miss Granger couldn’t manage on her own; he just wanted to … to keep up the good name of Slytherin. That was all.

These things were enough to occupy a man’s mind. Not that he was taking an interest, it was just better than laying wagers with himself as to whether lunch would arrive on the dot of twelve or (as had happened once) five minutes late.

So there was absolutely no need to think of Miss Granger’s delightful sense of humour, or of scenarios for unexpected photographs of her.

No need at all.

*~*~*~*~*~*
(Scene three. The Sick Ward. Severus sits in a normal, high-backed chair and looks less tired. He has a scroll of parchment and a quill ready to hand on a little bedside table. Hermione enters, clasping the same clipboard and quill as before.)

SEVERUS: Good afternoon, Miss Granger. I hope the project is going well?

HERMIONE: It is, Professor. So far, all the people on my list have accepted. Kreacher is willing to pose; I’m very pleased about that.

SEVERUS: Great news, no doubt. Only, if you’ll forgive my ignorance, who’s Kreacher?

HERMIONE: One of the Elves. He used to work for the Black family, and we came to know him quite well – Ron, Harry and I, that is – when we stayed in Grimmauld Place last year. He’s quite enthusiastic about my take on ‘unexpected’.

SEVERUS: And your take is?

HERMIONE: Everyone will be photographed at their very favourite place at Hogwarts, and the background stories will explain the special meaning of that place. Kreacher wants to pose under the Quidditch stands, because Regulus Black, his former … erm … master, told him that was his favourite place – he used to hide there, to be alone sometimes. Kreacher wants to tell about Regulus’s endeavours to destroy one of the Horcruxes – it’s a wonderful story about a Slytherin who gave his life to stop You-Know-Who.

SEVERUS: I see. Unexpected, indeed, and exactly the kind of thing you were looking for. And do you have other names already?

HERMIONE: Some, Professor, but I’d like to hear your ideas first.

SEVERUS: I’d thought of Muriel Prewett. She’s on the Hogwarts Board of Directors, has been forever, and she’s quite a personality.

(As Severus speaks, he takes up his parchment and ticks of an item on the list. Hermione grins, and ticks off an item on her own clipboard. Severus grins back. This time, they don’t look away.)

HERMIONE: Snap! I had her down, too. She’ll be brilliant. The only thing I regret it that the story will have to fit the back side of a calendar page. She’ll have so much to tell.

SEVERUS: I have also thought of Madam Hilary Carmichael, the Rectrix Magnifica of Bridgeford Wizarding University. You’ve heard of her, I presume?

HERMIONE: Yes, of course. Her nephew was at Hogwarts one year ahead of us – Eddie. He got nine Outstanding’s for his O.W.L.’s! But I don’t think … I mean … I couldn’t possibly ask her.

SEVERUS: Why not, Miss Granger? She seems eminently suitable.

HERMIONE: She is! Of course! It’s just … you see … (Hermione looks down at her clipboard and fiddles with her quill)

SEVERUS: Tell me what the problem is, Miss Granger. I’m supposed to make a useful contribution, after all.

HERMIONE: Well, you see, I’m … I’m planning to apply for a place at Bridgeford next year. I want to read History of Magic, and, if I’m good enough, I’d like to try for a Master’s Degree – and get a place to … to teach at … not at Bridgeford, perhaps, but at some university.

SEVERUS: History of Magic? I didn’t know that to be such a favourite of yours. You did very well in it, of course, but in your case that’s hardly a clear sign of preference. And if you care for my opinion, I think Bridgeford would be just the place for you. You could go far there, Miss Granger. But what’s the problem in asking Madam Carmichael, then?

HERMIONE: Don’t you see? If I get in, if I get a place at all, I want it to be because of my results, not just because I’m Harry Potter’s friend. Or because of this whole calendar-thing.

SEVERUS: Miss Granger, that’s nonsense. You know as well as I do that students list special projects on their application. This is a special project. You’re running it. You’ll have to put it in your letter, and the fact that you happen to meet Madam Carmichael on the strength of it won’t make a bit of difference to her or to the Admission Board.

HERMIONE: Yes, but … still … Professor, couldn’t you write to …. No, of course not. That would be far too fatiguing.

SEVERUS: Please. I’m still capable of holding a quill, and if you insist, I’ll most certainly write to Madam Carmichael. I think she’ll be glad to accept – if only because it’s a chance to visit Professor McGonagall. They’re very good friends.

(Hermione looks up and nods gratefully)

HERMIONE: If you would? That would be great. It means that I don’t have … well…

(Severus smiles and picks up his parchment.)

SEVERUS: That’s settled, then. Now, for the next person on my list. Do you think including Rosmerta would be stretching ‘Hogwarts Person’ too far?

HERMIONE: Rosmerta? But she’s the one who … with the necklace …

SEVERUS: She was unfortunate enough to have suffered an Imperius, yes. That makes her a victim of Voldemort – I trust you have no special grounds to exclude them?

HERMIONE: No. No, of course not. And you’re right. She was a victim, as much as poor Katie. But …

SEVERUS: She’s also very much a part of Hogwarts Life. Lots of old students will love to see her in that calendar. Because of all the fond memories they have of the Three Broomsticks, or …

HERMIONE: Or because they love to see Madam Rosmerta on a calendar. You’re right. She might do very well for the month of …

SEVERUS and HERMIONE together: June.

(Severus and Hermione both laugh.)

SEVERUS: Our great minds thinking alike. Now, who else did you have in mind?

HERMIONE: Madam Hooch. And Professor McGonagall, of course. Now that Hogwarts finally has a female Headmistress.

SEVERUS: Quite. So that makes …

HERMIONE: Eleven. (in a very surprised voice) You know, I think you were right.

SEVERUS: I can well imagine your surprise, Miss Granger. I’m dumbfounded myself – in what, exactly, was I right?

HERMIONE: You’re right that not everyone who … collaborated in some way was completely evil. Rosmerta was forced. Even if the consequences of what she did were terrible, it wasn’t really her fault – or her choice. But somehow, one tends to forget that. When we heard what had really happened to Katie, we just said “It was Rosmerta, then – she did it!” Only, she didn’t. Not really. And in the Ministry, there were people who hated what they were doing, but who were afraid for their families, or … Perhaps we should give a voice to someone whose trial isn’t finished yet.

SEVERUS: Since such a person would be innocent until proven guilty? Quite. Better make it someone whose trial hasn’t started yet – you can’t write about someone whose case is sub judice. That’s why I thought that …

HERMIONE: Yes, Professor?

SEVERUS: Narcissa Malfoy. She most certainly isn’t an angel – but you’ll find she isn’t a devil, either.

HERMIONE: Narcissa Malfoy! That’s an interesting thought! Yes, Professor, I think that may be a very good idea. I’ll try to contact her. You’ve really been most helpful.

(Hermione makes a note on her clipboard, gets up, and quickly walks towards the door. Half-way she turns around.)

HERMIONE: Could I … That is, would you mind proofreading the first stories? If it’s not too much work? I’d like your opinion on them. (Slightly surprised, and almost as an afterthought) I’d really like that.

SEVERUS: Miss Granger, It’ll be my pleasure. I’ll look forward to it. And it’s not too much at all; after all, life here is a bit …

(Hermione’s eyes circle the impeccably neat sick room). Boring?

SEVERUS: Very.

HERMIONE: I’ll bring the first one tomorrow, Professor.

(They smile at each other. Exit Hermione)

*~*~*~*~*~*
Severus didn’t recall their next meetings verbatim, much as he enjoyed them. To his surprise, he found himself rather busy. There were the background stories to proofread. Hermione - Miss Granger, that was, although he found it more and more difficult to think of her as Miss Granger, was very much on top of her subject. He had few comments to make, and most of them were complimentary.

And he spent quite a bit of time on finding the right way to comment. He had reached automatically for his marking quill. Then he reconsidered. There were two disadvantages. Scribbling red notes in the margin of a student’s essay might be read as a sign that he was getting back to his old self. Which he wasn’t, of course.

And there was a second problem. Herm- Miss Granger might see his red ink comments as professorial criticism, which wasn’t his intention. He didn’t want to discourage her from seeking his opinion on the rest of her work. They had worked together almost like colleagues. He just had to be careful, not only in calling her Miss Granger, but in calling his colleagues Professor, rather than by their given names. But his was a case of “Once Bitten, Twice Spy”, and it took more than a young thing to unsettle Severus Snape, Double Agent.

So he commented in green ink, since a contrasting colour was practical, and it was Slytherin enough to avoid the suspicion that he was going soft in his convalescence.

And then there was Professor Carmichael. She had accepted the invitation to Hogwarts. To his surprise, she had visited him as well. After some small talk that elevated procrastination to a form of art, she had made him an offer. An offer that left him thinking long and hard.

It was what some would call an offer you couldn’t refuse. Which showed they had no idea what they were talking about. Severus knew what an unrefusable offer was – and what accepting it, if that was the word, did to your soul.

He had spent several hours listing the pros and cons of Professor Carmichael’s idea and had finally decided that it was viable. And, in due time, it might even turn out to be … not unpleasant.

Yes, he had been quite busy.

*~*~*~*~*~*

(Scene four. The Sick Ward. Severus sits in a normal, high-backed chair and looks his usual, impeccably-robed self. There is a rolled parchment on the bedside table. Next to the table is a small, rather battered suitcase. Hermione enters, holding the clipboard and quill.)

SEVERUS: Miss Granger, good morning.

HERMIONE: Good morning, Professor. (Hermione points at the suitcase) You are leaving?

SEVERUS: Yes. I’ll spend a week or two at home, to sort things out, and then I’ll ...

HERMIONE: It’s true, then? You’ve accepted Professor Carmichael’s offer?

SEVERUS: How did you know?

HERMIONE: Professor Carmichael mentioned it during the interview. She asked what my plans were, and I told her I wanted to go to Bridgeford. Then she said that might be two good additions in one day. I asked what she meant, and, well …

SEVERUS: I see. You’ll certainly be a good addition.

HERMIONE: Oh, I don’t have a place yet, but if my marks are good enough, I’ll get an interview.

SEVERUS: That’s excellent news. About my own position, could I ask you not to mention it to anyone yet? I’ll see Min… that is, Professor McGonagall this afternoon, and she should hear it from me, not on the grapevine.

HERMIONE: Oh, absolutely. But she may know already. When Professor Carmichael mentioned you, she said that Professor McGonagall would be pleased.

SEVERUS: Not about me, surely. I know she had other ideas. No, she’ll be pleased to hear that you’re going to Bridgeford – she went there herself, you know.

HERMIONE: (very surprised, and in a puzzled voice) No, it can’t be about me. She was definitely talking about you – Professor McGonagall thinks I should be an Auror. That’s why she started that whole silly … (Hermione stops, looks embarrassed, and scribbles some meaningless lines on her clipboard.)

SEVERUS: Miss Granger, this needs sorting out. I’m perfectly convinced that any hidden agenda on the Calendar Project is to do with me. But I did notice a certain reluctance on your part concerning this whole job. What are your ideas, then?

HERMIONE: Well, it’s like this. Everyone expected me to go and work for the Ministry, either as an Auror, or in a place where I could further S.P.E.W. You know about S.P.E.W.?

SEVERUS: I do. Please, go on. You weren’t interested?

HERMIONE: No. I’ve never wanted to be an Auror, and after last year … It’s the last thing I’d want. And S.P.E.W. … it’s not that I don’t care about House-Elf rights. I do care, a lot. It’s just … Oh, I don’t know how to explain it. Everyone goes on about me not being my old self. And how being Crucio’ed has traumatised me. Well, it hasn’t, at least, I don’t think so. What happened at Malfoy Manor shouldn’t define my life, and I’m not letting it. But … oh …

SEVERUS: I think I know what you mean. You have changed. Not in a negative, poor victim manner. But because of … everything you’ve done, everything you’ve seen … it does change people. This is perfectly normal. No-one is the same person at eighty as at eighteen. Although, now I think of it, that notion is perhaps a tad optimistic. An unfortunate amount of people seem to reach their peak of intellectual maturity when their seventeenth birthday changes them from underage little sods into adult sods. As you will realise when you meet your former classmates later in life.

HERMIONE: Speaking from personal experience? I mean … sorry, Professor, that was …

SEVERUS: That was a logical deduction, Miss Granger, no need to apologize for it. Yes, speaking from personal experience. And I know there’s nothing more annoying than getting advice – except, perhaps, getting good advice – but do avoid school reunions. There’s no need to add to the sum of human misery by inflicting that particular ordeal on yourself. Instead, build up a new life at Bridgeford. You’re old enough to know what you want; there’s no need to remain stuck at twelve-year-old-Hermione for ever.

HERMIONE: That’s just it! (surprised) You do understand. Why can’t the rest?

SEVERUS: They’re afraid, I think. They’ve lived through terrible things. But they started with the idea that, after the War, life would be normal again. That was what they were fighting for: their ordinary, pleasant lives. And that’s what they want, hence the insistence on all of us being our old selves. Did you ever think about the kind of normal life you’d go back to?

HERMIONE: No! No … I didn’t. I didn’t see any kind of life. Everything just went on and on, and I had no idea of what would come next … I didn’t think there would be a ‘next’. (Hermione pauses to look intently at Severus. Then, rather hesitatingly) Is that what it was like for you, too? Is that why …

SEVERUS: Yes. I was convinced there would be no next. I didn’t particularly care, so there’s no need to look upset. And perhaps that’s why I understand. For what my opinion is worth, I think you’ve made an excellent choice. The academic life will suit you very well. And while I’m afraid you’ll have to live with a certain amount of –shall we call it Pottermania? – you’ll manage to find a … new life for yourself.

HERMIONE: Thank you, Professor. I’m glad there’s at least one person who feels I’m doing the right thing. And you know what most annoys me? When I was still at Hogwarts, everyone told me S.P.E.W. was silly, and I would grow out of it. And now they all say, “but what about your plans?” as if it was the best idea they’d ever heard.

SEVERUS: Quite. Several of my Order colleagues want to see my old self back, and, given their lack of enthusiasm when it was there to enjoy, I utterly fail to see why.

(They both grin briefly.)

HERMIONE: Well, we’ll both start a new life then. But … you said there was a hidden agenda in the Calendar project? You may be right …

SEVERUS: ( interrupts quickly) Oh, I am!

HERMIONE: As I said, you may be right, but it was about me. I asked Professor McGonagall to be left out of the fundraising in order to prepare for Bridgeford, and she said I’d do well enough, and being on the project would do me all sorts of good. It would give me an interest, she said, it would take me out of the library now and then. She stopped just short of trotting out all work and no play, but it was perfectly clear what she meant. And besides, Professor Carmichael was definitely talking about you.

SEVERUS: But – why, of course, that’s it! Professor Carmichael really thinks Minerva will be pleased – and she’s wrong. Professor McGonagall wanted me to take on this project because I’d handed in my resignation. She wanted me to reconsider, said I wasn’t my old self – as you see, I was less fortunate with the clichés I got – and she thought it would give me an interest.

HERMIONE: What – you too?

SEVERUS: Yes. It’ll be a bit of a blow for her. It’s not often that two of her best-laid plans go awry. And it’s ironic we both start a new life in Bridgeford. Not that you have to worry about running into me – I understand that this collaboration can’t have been all joy for you.

HERMIONE: Oh, but it was! Really, I enjoyed myself.

SEVERUS: You’re too kind, Miss Granger. But given that we’ll be in different departments, you’ll hardly see me. Not till you’re a fully-fledged member of staff. You’ll find that even in a new life, staff parties are unavoidable.

HERMIONE: ( smiles) Were they as bad as that?

SEVERUS: Not always. Professor McGonagall and I quite enjoyed being sarcastic together. I’ll miss that. Of course, there’s the time you’ll be a colleague to look forward too. It’ll improve those gatherings no end.

HERMIONE: (sounding somewhat depressed) Thank you. You’re right, of course. I don’t think we’ll see each other before. The place is so big, you’d have to make an appointment to meet up.

SEVERUS: (hesitatingly) Yes, you might feel a bit lost, at first. If you think you might enjoy …

HERMIONE: Yes!

SEVERUS: … dinner, I thought – or just drinks, perhaps…

HERMIONE: I’d love to. Either. Dinner.

SEVERUS: Well… that’s … erm … (Severus grabs a quill and starts making notes) I’ll give you my address. Then you can send your address when you know it, and I’ll … I’ll Owl you. (he hands the parchment with the address to Hermione) I … I have to get packed now. And to speak with Professor Minerva … I mean … Professor McGonagall.

HERMIONE: Yes. Yes, of course. I’ll send you my address, Professor.

SEVERUS: I’m not your Professor any more … Perhaps you could start the new life by dropping the title, Miss Granger … I mean …

HERMIONE: (laughing) You mean we’ll call each other Miss Granger and Mr Snape?

SEVERUS: Hermione, please. I know I just relinquished professorial authority, but must you strike at once? One last order, then: Owl me. Soon.

HERMIONE: I will. Severus.

(Hermione grabs her clipboard and hurries out)

*~*~*~*~*~*

(Scene five. The Sick Ward. Severus packs the last items on his bed into the suitcase. Minerva enters)

MINERVA: Severus! Poppy told me you’re well enough to leave. You’re going home?

SEVERUS: Yes. But … Minerva, I’m sorry. I know you thought I’d change my mind … (Severus picks up the roll of parchment from the bedside table)

MINERVA: You’re handing me your resignation? I see. Well, Hilary Carmichael owes me a dinner for that – pinching my staff.

SEVERUS: She told you, then?

MINERVA: No, I’m merely putting two and two together. And did you hear the other news? Miss Granger is going to Bridgeford, too.

SEVERUS: Yes, she told me – if her marks were good enough, she said. (They both smile.)

MINERVA: Typical. University will suit her.

SEVERUS: Do you really think so? It’s not the impression you gave Miss Granger.

MINERVA: I don’t wear my heart on my sleeve, Severus. Of course I think she’ll be happy at Bridgeford. More so, even, than at Hogwarts. Her love of learning won’t set her apart there. And now that she already knows someone – you, I mean – she won’t feel as lonely as she did during her first months here. I’ve had her marked for Bridgeford ever since she managed to solve that conundrum of yours. Remember? When we had to protect the Philosopher’s Stone? A student clever enough to outsmart you …

SEVERUS: (laughs at the memory)You’re right, I’d almost forgotten. It was very clever of her. I didn’t think anyone would get past. But Mr Weasley did well, too, winning from your Giant Chess.

MINERVA: He didn’t. He played a marvellous game, true, but he didn’t win. He didn’t get past. He had to sacrifice himself. And, as you recall, the aim was to stop the player from reaching the Stone.

SEVERUS: (nods, and grins appreciatively) You’re right. I never thought of that before – check mate wasn’t the end: the final move was getting past.

MINERVA: Did I just destroy your happy bubble of smugness at my imagined defeat? Oh, dear. Chess really is a matter of thinking ahead – you have to plan your moves from the start all the way to the very end of the game, and sometimes beyond that.

SEVERUS: I really must find time to study it. Perhaps, one day, you’ll care to play with me?

MINERVA: I think you’ll be better off playing with Miss Granger.

SEVERUS: She’s a chess player, then? I didn’t know. And I don’t think I’ll see much of her. Bridgeford is a very large place.

MINERVA: She doesn’t play yet, which is what makes her suitable. You can learn together. And Bridgeford can be exceedingly small – if you want it to be.

(Minerva smiles and heads for the door. Then she turns round and looks back at Severus.)

MINERVA: Now, you know I’m the last person to claim an Inner Eye, but I can see the two of you spending some pleasurable moments together. As you did on the Calendar Project.

SEVERUS: (thoughtful) Ah, yes. The Calendar Project.

MINERVA: ( settles herself against the door post) I’m so pleased with both your efforts. The calendar looks brilliant, the stories are beautiful, and the selection of subjects … whose idea was it to put Fleur Delacour on December?

SEVERUS: Miss Granger’s.

MINERVA: As I thought – she’ll make a decent chess player. Thinks ahead. And Rosmerta is an excellent choice for June – your idea to include her, I think? Did you see the finished picture?

SEVERUS: I did. Her dress defies gravity. It’ll bring back a lot of happy memories for the alumni.

MINERVA: You see? Miss Granger and you are eminently suited. For chess, I mean. You’ll both enjoy it. Not that you’ll be anywhere near top player status, not for a very long time. Believe me, it takes years and years of practice to …

SEVERUS: … to learn how to think a game through properly? Getting your pieces just where you want them, for every single move, from the start to the very end – and beyond? I see. Yes, I really begin to see what you mean, Minerva.

*~*~*~*~*~*