Chapter 33
Hermione Granger sat in the dimly lit library, her nose buried in a thick tome on advanced magical theory. The scent of old parchment and ink filled the air, providing a comforting backdrop to her studies. Yet, her mind was anything but peaceful. The memory of her encounters with Draco Malfoy was a constant, lurking presence.
She heard the familiar swish of robes and looked up to see Professor Snape standing before her, his expression as inscrutable as ever. "Miss Granger, a word," he said, his voice low and authoritative.
Hermione closed her book and nodded, not surprised by his approach. She had been expecting this conversation. She followed Snape to a secluded corner of the library, where they could speak without being overheard.
"Professor?" she prompted, her voice calm and steady.
"I’ve heard troubling rumors about you and Mr. Malfoy," Snape began, his dark eyes searching her face. "Rumors suggesting improper interactions."
Hermione met his gaze without flinching. "And what of it, Professor?"
Snape’s expression tightened. "I need to know if these rumors are true, for your own safety. Is Malfoy coercing you in any way?"
Hermione shook her head, her demeanor confident. "What I do with Draco is my choice, Professor. It gives me an advantage in this world, one I’ve chosen to use."
Snape’s eyes widened slightly, but he quickly masked his surprise. "An advantage? Miss Granger, this is not a game. There are consequences to such... entanglements."
Hermione smiled faintly, a hint of steel in her eyes. "I’m well aware of the consequences, Professor. But I’ve weighed them against the benefits. Draco and I have an understanding. It’s mutual."
Snape studied her for a long moment, his mind racing. "Mutual or not, you must understand the risks involved. Your position, your reputation..."
"My position and reputation are my concern," Hermione interrupted, her voice firm. "I know what I’m doing. I’m not some helpless damsel."
Snape took a deep breath, his frustration evident. "Very well, Miss Granger. But if you find yourself in over your head, you must come to me. Do you understand?"
Hermione nodded, her resolve unshaken. "I understand, Professor. Thank you for your concern."
As Snape turned to leave, Hermione felt a pang of resentment flare up inside her. This man, who now expressed concern for her well-being, had done nothing when she was tormented during her first year in Slytherin. The bullying had been relentless, and Snape, her Head of House, had turned a blind eye.
"Professor," she called after him, unable to keep the bitterness from her voice.
Snape paused, looking back at her with a raised eyebrow.
"Where was your concern when I was bullied my first year?" she asked, her eyes flashing with anger. "You did nothing then. Why the sudden interest now?"
Snape’s expression hardened, a flicker of something—regret, perhaps—crossing his features. "Things were different then," he said quietly. "But that doesn’t excuse my inaction. For that, I am sorry."
Hermione stared at him, shocked by his apology. She hadn’t expected any acknowledgment, let alone an apology. The resentment simmered down slightly, replaced by a wary acceptance.
"Thank you, Professor," she said, her voice softer.
Snape nodded once, then turned to leave again. Before he could take another step, Hermione’s voice stopped him.
"Professor, remember, I’m a Slytherin," she said, her tone carrying a mix of pride and defiance. "I know how to navigate these situations. I’m not as vulnerable as you might think."
Snape looked back at her, his expression unreadable. "I do not doubt your resourcefulness, Miss Granger. But even Slytherins can find themselves ensnared."