Chapter 3
“Miss Granger.”
Hermione jumped at Snape’s voice behind her. She turned around and met the appraising gaze of the potions professor.
“P-professor Snape,” Hermione shakily greeted.
“Come with me.” Professor Snape turned around and walked away without preamble, black robes billowing behind him.
Hermione scrambled up from the Slytherin table and scurried after him. She chanced a glance over to the Gryffindor table. She met the accusing glare of Ron. Her heart sank. Turning her gaze to Harry, she was met with the half-concerned, half-confused gaze of her other best friend; based on Ron’s expression, though, she might be down to one best friend, if she was lucky enough to still have Harry after everyone got over their shock and tried to work out how this could happen, that is.
Hermione wasn’t short–average height at about five foot six–but she had to jog slightly to keep up with Snape’s purposeful gliding down to the dungeons. They arrived at Snape’s office and he led her in, holding the door for her, then slamming it shut, making her jump again.
Snape slowly walked around behind his desk and sat down. He leaned forward to rest his elbows on his desk, steepling his hands under his chin, fingers intertwined together. He stared at Hermione. After a couple seconds, she started squirming under his assessing gaze.
“Professor–” Hermione started to say, but Snape held up a hand to silence her. He returned his hand to under his chin.
Hermione stood there awkwardly, trying to distract herself from her confusion and anxiety by looking around Snape’s office. Finally, after several minutes and a heavy sigh, Snape spoke. Hermione returned her attention to him.
“Miss Granger, I do not believe I need to tell you how… unprecedented your resorting is?” he asked.
Hermione shook her head. “No sir.”
He raised an eyebrow at her. “I will be frank, Miss Granger…I’m not entirely sure what to do with you.”
“Sir?”
“What I mean, Miss Granger, is that you are a muggleborn witch who has recently been resorted into Slytherin House, a House that is known for consisting mainly of purebloods, with the odd half-blood here and there. I think we can both agree that, unfortunately, you will be in social and possibly physical danger in your new…designation.”
Hermione gulped. She took a shaky breath. “Professor, might you have any idea why this has happened to me?”
Snape looked at her, making Hermione feel as if he was staring into her soul.
“I wish I knew,” he drawled.
“Do you think the headmaster might? He didn’t look too pleased, but also like he might know something and be able to help?”
Snape narrowed his eyes almost imperceptibly. “Perhaps. I will look into it.” He stood and motioned for Hermione to follow him. “Come, Miss Granger, let us get you to your room.”
Hermione followed Snape out of his office and into the common room. He led her into a corridor on the right side of the common room. He was able to go up the half a dozen stairs to the hallway with the girls’ dorms, which surprised Hermione; the stairs to the girls’ dorms in Gryffindor turned into a slide if boys tried to sneak in there, but she supposed that, since he was a professor and head of house, that Snape would be able to enter the hall with no problems.
They walked halfway down the hallway until they came to a door with a plaque with the number 5 on it. Snape knocked on the door, but Hermione wasn’t paying attention, for at the end of the hall, a door was slowly coming into existence.