The Reason Why
PROLOGUE
Minerva McGonagall had a once-in-a-lifetime chance to study and instruct at the Ellinikó Panepistímio Mageías, the oldest school of magic in Greece, and Headmaster Snape was fervently hoping that his last-minute request of the DoM would garner positive results. He would genuinely hate to be the one to disappoint his Transfiguration professor, but finding a replacement had become an abysmal challenge. The seven interviews he’d already had were enough to give him migraines for days. Damn that Minerva for setting the bar so high—it had now been proven that she was nigh on irreplaceable. Not that he hadn’t been aware of that previously.
It was now beyond question that he should offer her a pay raise, he sighed.
So here he was, at the Department of Mysteries on a Friday night, hoping to find a solution to his conundrum by Tuesday at the latest—it was already late July, and a temp would need some time to adjust their lesson plans, among other things. He nodded to his hostess, gratefully accepting the offered cup of her personally blended tea, as they continued their conversation.
“I am incredibly aware that this is a very last-minute request, Amelia, but I must say, the interviews thus far have been appalling. None of them came close to being able to handle the superior standards of a Hogwarts education or Minerva’s own level of expertise.”
“I can certainly understand your frustration, Severus,” Amelia replied, “But the person who would be the most useful to you is embroiled in a project that could end in the next five minutes or the next five months… The rest are either currently entangled in an Aurory mission, older than Dumbledore’s grandfather or couldn’t teach a niffler to steal something shiny. If there was--”
A small chime interrupted them, and they both turned towards the sound. Severus glanced curiously at what appeared to be a small whiteboard on the wall behind Amelia’s desk. She excused herself and, at Severus’ nod, spun her chair to the right to face the board.
As Severus noted a row of pictographs across the top of the whiteboard, a small symbol of crossed bones in the lower-left corner glowed blue. The chime sounded again, and another icon along the top lit up; it appeared to be a sleeping animal curled into a ball. Amelia traced a complicated finger gesture of runes on the board, and with a nod towards the board at Severus, she invited him to watch. Shortly, excited writing began to scribble across the once-blank space.
HJG: “Amelia!! I did it! It’s working perfectly, WONDERFULLY, in fact, and I’ve tested it on more than 27 subjects—and it WORKS!! It’s precisely what we are looking for, and I can’t wait for you to try it! The project, including paperwork, is being sent to the Assessment & Standards Department for the requisite pre-patent rigamarole, but you’ll have a copy of my report on your desk by the end of the hour. Whew! What a day!”
New words were scribbled across the board as the excited ramble faded.
“So. What’s next???”
Severus raised a brow along with one corner of his mouth as Amelia barked out a laugh. “That young woman loves a challenge,” Amelia said to Severus with a chuckle. Turning back to the message board, she began speaking after touching the crossed bones in the lower corner, turning it green.
AGB: "Congratulations, my dear, I knew you could do it! Now… How would you like to reschedule your vacation and do some temporary teaching at Hogwarts?”
HJG: “Truly? I’d LOVE to! And, OF COURSE, I can cancel that vacation you were strenuously compelling me to take; teaching would be SO much more fun than a forced vacation, Amelia. Starting when and for how long?”
AGB: “Is August 1st too soon? And it would be anywhere from six months to the full year.”
HJG: “Perfect. Excellent; I accept.”
AGB: “Good. Why don’t you take the rest of the day off and drop that report off on your way out? You can have tea with Severus and me and review the Hogwarts contract.”
There was a significant pause before a reply appeared.
HJG: “Alright, I’ll see you in a few. Ta.”
Severus snorted as the Head of the DoM turned to face him. “Teaching at Hogwarts fun? The woman has no idea what trouble she is walking into.” He took another sip of tea before settling back into his seat. “Are you sure she can handle this, Amelia? Teaching Transfiguration to first through seventh years?” He froze after those words passed his lips, realising something rather imperative. “She never even bothered to ask which subject!” he spluttered.
“Relax, Severus. When she said teaching at Hogwarts would be fun,” Amelia explained, “For her, it probably will be. She is quite used to teaching the neurotic know-it-alls at the DoM—I’m sure she can handle Hogwarts Transfiguration with no problems.” Amelia raised her hand at the sight of his open mouth and waved him into silence. “And Minerva will be extremely pleased with her substitute. Master Granger could teach any level of any subject you offer at Hogwarts, Severus; she has a mastery or journeyman rating in all of Hogwart's mandatory subjects and a few extras. The woman is unstoppable,” she replied with a raised brow, then raised a finger and quickly corrected herself. “Excluding Flying and Divination, those she would refuse to teach.”
“Excuse me, Amelia… Did you say Master Granger?! As in Hermione Granger?”
“I did, Severus,” she replied calmly, refreshing her cup, “And don't give me that old ‘hand-waving, know-it-all’ shite; have you even talked to the woman in the last seven years?”
Severus Snape opened his mouth, shut it, and recalled the last time he’d seen Hermione Granger.
Three years ago, Severus had been finagled into attending one of Draco’s orphanage fundraisers and was watching whilst Draco had deposited a portly, twittering patron back at her table with a polite bow. As he limped away, his arm flicked out to snaffle a beautiful young woman in green velvet, tucking her arm under his as they approached the refreshment table.
“I know you promised me the next dance, Drake, but you really ought to sneak off to the kitchens and soak your poor feet in something…maybe that hideous soup they served earlier—your poor, mangled toes would probably love that,” she smirked.
“Tactless as ever, Mia,” he said haughtily, causing a trill of her laughter to fill the air. “Besides, I chose the next song for you personally; you must dance to it.”
“Well, not with you, gimpy-boy,” she smiled, glancing down at his hobbling stride. He grinned at her as they reached the refreshment table.
“And here is my saviour…Severus! Terribly good to see you, but could you do me a small favour?” Hermione’s head spun around, and she stared at the tall man in black, a faint blush colouring her cheeks only to make its way down her shoulders. The Headmaster snapped his eyes away, only to get a smirk from Draco, who’d caught him staring. He knew her; where did he know her from? He must’ve taught her… It was right on the tip of his tongue, but he realised that Draco had kept talking, “…need to go soak my aching feet in gazpacho, and I requested a special song for Mia; would you take this last waltz with her? If you dance with her, I’ll allow you both to leave when the song is over—that’s, ah, forty-five minutes earlier than I was going to force you to stay, right?”
Severus and Hermione simultaneously turned on Draco, eyebrows arched. He drew back, eyes wide. “Aah! Dual eyebrows?! What did I say?”
“I’m sure the young woman does NOT appreciate being pawned off with a weak bribe to the first ugly sod you run into, Draco. All because you failed to apply a cushioning charm to your shoes and a shield charm on your feet! A beautiful woman like this cancertainly find herself a willing dance partner…”
“Thank you, Master Snape,” Hermione replied politely, acknowledging him with a blushing smile, “And you are not an ugly sod. But you,” she said, stepping into Draco’s personal space to poke him hard in the chest. “I’m sure the Headmaster doesn’t welcome your high-handed plotting or attempts to bribe or guilt him into dancing with someone he doesn’t even remember.” She thrust her hands on her hips. “I have a mind to drag you onto that dance floor myself and stomp your feet into a wheelchair, you berk.”
“Sorry, Granger, sorry!” Draco replied, holding up his hands and backing away.
“Hmmph,” she growled.
Granger? Shite, she’d gotten lovely—and was still fierce as the day was long. Thinking quickly, Severus gave a small bow and held out his hand.
“Miss Granger…may I have the pleasure of this last dance?”
She smirked and flicked her fingers in Draco’s face, motioning him away. “Begone, you.” She smiled up at Severus as she slid her hand into his, “Yes, I believe so; I would love to share this very last dance with you, Headmaster.”
“Severus, please,” he murmured, leading her towards the dance floor. Her smile was radiant as the music started, and he pulled her into his arms.
He watched her eyes drift closed as the waltz commenced, and his dance partner sighed, “Oh, I do love this song,” she whispered.
Severus Snape cleared his throat. "Alright, Amelia, I concede—Master Granger would most likely be an exemplary temporary replacement for Minerva. And you are further correct in postulating that Minerva will absolutely approve."
Severus sighed—this would either be the second biggest mistake of his life or…
He freshened his cup of tea and shook his head, afraid to reflect upon the unspoken alternative.