Chapter 3
Something about walking into the grand entrance hall of Hogwarts felt like home. It felt like she was eleven being ferried across the waters in guideless boats, being introduced to a world that she had only known existed for a few months.
It was July 1st, and she was almost positive other teachers hadn't arrived yet, was almost positive McGonagall would not have expected her to arrive yet, but she hadn't been able to resist. When it felt like her entire world was collapsing, when it felt like she had no purpose, it felt wonderful to come to the halls that had shaped her future.
The first thing she did, before even putting her bags down, was visit the great hall where she had shared so many meals with Ron, Harry, Neville, Ginny, and so many other friends. In the shadows of the flickering lights, she could practically see their younger selves sitting and laughing, enjoying the food, enjoying each other's company.
That image faded to one of dead bodies lined up row by row, unseeing eyes being closed, grieving sobs and panting breaths the only sounds she was able to hear. She could see Fred laying there, as Molly grieved, clutching his body, begging for him to come back to life.
Shaking her head, Hermione brought herself out of the memories, back to the present, where not even a blood splatter remained from that day.
It felt so right to be back, to return to where every drastic, life altering moment had happened. But it also felt like a weight crushing down on her chest and she struggled to breathe from the weight of it.
Unwilling to spend any more time in great hall remembering the past, she picked up her luggage and made her way to the headmasters office. McGonagall had kept up with Dumbledore’s passwords, She said “ice mice” and watched as the entrance opened, the stair case being revealed. Leaving her luggage unattended, she made her way up the stairs.
McGonagall was behind her desk, busily going through paperwork. Around her, all kinds of things were sorting themselves into stacks, McGonagall's head only shifting when something came slightly to close to her. Hermione stood and watched, breathing in the moment, enjoying the awe she still felt at seeing magic used so casually in a day to day setting. for the first time in a long time, she felt a genuine smile cross her face.
“Hello professor.”
McGonagall’s head shot up at the greeting, a smile lighting up her face when she saw who was standing before her. “Ms. Granger. It is always so lovely to see you.” She stood and walked forward, wrapping Hermione in a tight hug that lasted for only a few seconds.
“Thank you for letting me know about the position professor. it sounds exactly like what i need.” she hadn't meant to let her wistfulness show in the words, but her tone was heavy with it, something McGonagall did not miss.
“You of all people do not need a reason to come back to Hogwarts Ms. Granger. You are one of the reasons this building still stands, one of the reasons these young minds continue to be educated. You are always welcome here.” McGonagall was stiff as she said it, the words as much a reprimand as they were a comfort.
“I know that. but it feels nice to be here with a purpose, something to do.” she tried to explain herself, hoped her favorite professor would understand.
“You never did come back to finish your seventh year.” They weren't half mooned spectacles that she peered down like Dumbledore would have, but the effect was the same. it felt like she was being x-rayed, her mind being sorted through like the flipping of a page in a book. Hermoine couldn't help but wonder if this was something they learned as being a headmaster of a wizarding school.
McGonagall was waiting for an explanation, was waiting for a reason as to why Hermione, a witch who had loved school, had loved learning, hadn't come back to finish her seventh year. There were so many reasons, each of them stepping forward on her tongue before she swallowed them down, unable to say them. she ended up settling on “i just couldn't. i couldn't be back here after what had happened, not that soon.” Those piercing eyes continued to stare at her, and then they were accompanied with a nod.
“I understand. It wasn't easy for me to be here either, but there was a difference between the two of us. I wasn't a child, and you were.” Hermione's head shot up, eyes widening at the words. “I wonder, did we ever apologize to you Ms. Granger, for taking yours, Mr. Weasley’s, and Mr. Potters childhood away? Or did the three of you bear the burden without an expectation of thanks, simply doing it because it needed to be done.”
Hermione's mouth gaped open, lips trembling, as she tried to find something to say, something to respond with that wouldn't have her crying. McGonagall held up a hand, halting her attempts. “If no one did say it, I am sorry for that as well. the three of you, as well as all of the other children that were forced to grow up too fast, deserve and apology from all of us.” Then she waved her hand as though waving the words and the conversation away.
“I am glad you are here MS. Granger. our library has been out of sorts since Professor Prince left a few years ago, and I have been hoping the position could be filled by someone who loves not only Hogwarts, but books just as much as she did.”
“I am eager to get started Professor. Hogwarts Library is the place I feel closest to home, and most comfortable at.” Hermione smiled again, thinking about all of the trouble she and Harry and Ron had gotten into while in the library.
“I got an interesting owl from Shackbolt.” Those words jolted her out of the joy she was feeling, and she turned suspicious eyes back to her favorite professor, current headmistress of Hogwarts, and now her boss. “About you wanting to go on some silly adventure digitizing the books in the wizarding world. His words, not mind Ms. Grangers, to be very clear before the arguments I can already see materializing come out.”
“Silly? Silly idea?” Now she was standing, pacing around the office. “Is it so silly to want to be able to access any book we have from anywhere. to be able to reference a journal from 500 years ago that Nicolas Flamel wrote? That is silly? of all the ridiculous, ideas.”
“Ms. Granger, calm down.” she picked up a tin and shook it. “Have a biscuit to keep your mouth while I speak.”
She was twenty-seven years old, and yet McGonagall's words made her feel like a first year student being reprimanded for the first time. she took the biscuit, blueberry, and sat back down in her seat, waiting to hear what McGonagall would say.
“As I said, Shackbolt himself, thinks it is silly. But he, as the Minister of Magic, has many things going on and cannot always see the potential of an idea before it is realized. I however, do not think it is a silly idea Ms. Granger. I think it could be truly beneficial and helpful to the wizarding world. Especially for the magical folks in the America's who do not have the history we do to pull from. As such, this is something that is not only a passion project for you, but something that has been written into your contract to achieve. I will expect regular updates on it, and how it is going.”
There were tears in her eyes, literal tears as she stared at McGonagall with an open mouth. There was so much hope inside of her, so much pleasure at knowing someone, even if it was only one person, who agreed with her. “Obviously, this is not to interfere with your duties as a librarian, but given your history, I am sure you can make it work. Do you understand Ms. Granger.”
“Yes professor.” the words came out as a whisper, her throat to clogged with tears to speak loudly or clearly. it took Hermione a few minutes to clear her throat of tears so she could speak. “Thank you.”
“Brightest witch of your age, and Shackbolt didn't see the good idea in front of him.” McGonagall shook her head. “Now, as you are here early, I am assuming it is to set up residence, and get reacquainted with the library, is that correct?”
“Yes professor. I left my bags at the entrance to your office...”
“And i would assume the House Elves have already whisked them away to your rooms. If you follow me, I will show you where your rooms are.” She started walking, and Hermione followed her in a happy daze. This was it, her hopes, her desires, her dreams, they were coming true.
They stepped out of the headmasters office, Hermione looking to her left, and suddenly there was a bloodstain on the wall, a body on the ground. Seeing it jolted her, had her backing up flat against a wall, eyes wide with terror staring at the spot.
Then she blinked and it was gone, nothing more than a bad memory she couldnt quite shake. “I see Ms. Granger, that you also still have problems with remembering what happened here.” When McGonagall looked at her, there was no age difference between them, no experience difference between them. Just shared trauma of one of the worst days of their lives. “I would like to say it gets better, and it does. But it never completely goes away. I would recommend speaking to Pomfrey, if it gets worse. she will be able to help.”
Hermione nodded her head, before falling into step with McGonagall. They walked in silence, neither wanting to disrupt the peace for the moment.
Once they arrived at the library, McGonagall put a hand on her arm. “Ms. Granger, there is something i would like to ask of you. Not something you need to decide on today, but a request I would like to put to you today.”
Hermione's brow furrowed as she looked back at McGonagall, the silent question of what was the favor being asked loud and clear.
Not hurried to speak, the library doors were opened, and they walked inside. The scent of books hit her like an aphrodisiac, her fingers already itching to touch all of the books she hadn't managed to read in her time in these castles.
Distracted, she only partially paid attention to McGonagall speaking. “As you know Ms. Granger, the offer to finish the final year of schooling was open to any and all students after that year. We have a previous student that would like to finally finish his seventh year. It is a matter of pride for him to have it finished.”
Hermione turned to give her full attention to McGonagall. “I commend them for the effort.”
“I was hoping you would be willing to help him study and learn what he needs to, before the N.E.W.T.S. are taken this year. All he needs is a passing grade, and he will have completed.”
“Will he be traveling here to learn and study?” Hermione asked, confused as to how this was going to work.
“He is already a professor at the school, has been for a few years now. He never showed interest before this year, but would finally like it to be finished, to say he finished it. As you are incredibly intelligent and somehow managed to help Mr. Weasley and Mr. Potter pass their classes, i was hoping you would be willing to help this individual as a personal favor to me.”
Hermione gnawed at her lower lip, debating. McGonagall wouldn't have asked if it wasn't important to her, and helping someone study wouldn't take up that much of her time would it? And maybe, talking to someone the same age as herself that had been through the same things would help her heal and stop having flashbacks. She was nodding her head in agreement before she could fully think it through.
McGonagall beamed at her. “Thank you Ms. Granger. I know this is a sacrifice for you and your time, and know that I am indeed appreciative.” there was a pause and then she was gesturing up a small flight of stairs. “your residence is through that door there. I will leave you to get settled.”
McGonagall turned to walk away, and Hermione was halfway up the stairs before she turned and called out. “Professor, who is that I will be helping?” she wanted to see if she recognized the name, or if she would need to send letters to her friends to try and stir up a memory.
“Mr. Malfoy, Ms. Granger. he is our potions master.” McGonagall swept away in a flow of black robes, out of the library before Hermione could fully comprehend who she had agreed to help.