Where Do You Go When You Feel Lost
2.1 Affirm
The next morning, Hermione sat up and stretched, feeling the heavy platinum bracelet side on her wrist. She looked at it, seeing dark lines of the intricate SS and the minute cauldron on the highly polished disk in the pale light. The detail of the engraving and the relief of the cauldron were amazing and masterfully done. The tiny stirring rod rotated slowly within the cauldron, and a shimmer of steam rose in delicate patterns from its lip, obviously charmed in some manner. She turned the disk over, looked at the address again as she wondered what being Severus Snape’s apprentice would entail and gasped in realization of exactly what it meant.
According to the Muggle historical traditions, apprenticeships in the twelfth to fourteenth centuries lasted five to nine years. In the sixteenth to eighteenth centuries, it lasted seven years. The wizarding world was seeped in old traditions, to the point of stagnation, and that meant… Hermione threw back her covers and dressed hurriedly.
“Hermione, what-where are you going?” Margaret, another returning Muggle-born she shared her room with, asked groggily.
“The library,” she replied, lacing her trainers.
“Oh, right,” Margaret mumbled, rolling over and going back to sleep.
Hermione literally ran to the library, greeting Madam Pince as she unlocked the door, and walked as quickly as she could to the section of magical traditions. She’d found her answer in the first book she checked but wasn’t satisfied until she verifyed the answer in nine more. She closed the last book with a snap and set it back on the shelf, swallowing in nervousness. Seven years. She was his apprentice for seven years-to Severus Snape. Holy mother of Merlin, what have I done?
She rested her hand on the spines of the books, relevantly seeking serenity from the smell of the books, the feel of the leather under her fingertips and the quiet solitude, trying to calm her nerves. Another seven years under his tutelage and guidance. Her gaze fell on the bracelet again, shining in the soft lights of the lamps. He must have had this on him or had it ready… But how could he have known I’d twist his words into a verbal trap… Unless he’d planned it to happen! Slytherins are known for being cunning, the Sorting Hat always said so every year.
She pulled out another book and began to read the chapter on wizard traditions of property ownership. When she left school, she’d have to find a place to live, and although Harry would allow her to live with him, she had her parents’ house to consider. She was into the chapter of feudal rights when she heard the sound of someone softly clearing their throat.
“Miss Granger, I’m closing the library for breakfast,” Madam Pince called out quietly from the end of the bookshelf.
Hermione apologized, set the book back in its place and walked to the Great Hall, her mind in turmoil, trying to anticipate what her apprenticeship would entail. Her thoughts were distracted momentarily as she scanned the tables for her friends, smiling at Harry and Ron sitting across from Dean, Neville, and Ginny. Due to damage at the Ministry of Magic, the Auror Training program had been relocated to the unused classrooms in the castle, so even though her friends had been given honorary N.E.W.T.s, they were back in their dorms in Gryffindor tower as well. Besides, their training was every bit as demanding as her final N.E.W.T. year had been. Neville had returned as well, initially following in his parents footsteps, however, even though the Aurory welcomed Neville as a trainee, he’d changed his mind midterm, focusing on a year’s study under Professor Sprout instead. Hermione sat down next to Harry and grabbed some toast.
“‘Mione?” Ron asked, swallowing a mouthful of food. “Where were you? We waited and waited.”
“The library,” she replied, scooping up a serving of eggs.
“You do know that school is over, right?” Ron asked as Harry chuckled softly. “We get to enjoy ourselves for a week before going home and… What?”
“Bet she had to check an answer she thought she missed on her exams,” Harry said, nudging Ron on the shoulder. “And we have a week before summer Stealth practicals.”
“Oh, yes, more camping,” Ron groaned.
“No tents,” Harry said, grinning, “just us, our wand, a knife, and a first aid kit.”
Suddenly, Neville looked up from across the table, his eyes huge as he jabbed his chin with his spoon full of porridge.
She sucked in her breath suddenly acutely aware that Professor Snape stood behind her. “Miss Granger, I expect you in my office promptly after breakfast,” he said smoothly.
Hermione nearly choked on her toast as she swallowed too quickly to answer him, “Er, yes, sir.”
“Blimey!” Ron and Neville said at the same time when Professor Snape turned on his heel and walked away.
“What did you do?” Ron asked as Neville said, “Hermione, what’s he want with you now?”
She turned from watching Severus Snape, her master for the next seven years stride away, and tired to steady the racing pulse of her heart. “I assume he wants to talk to me. I’ll be fine. I’ll meet you in the common room after.”
The next morning, Hermione sat up and stretched, feeling the heavy platinum bracelet side on her wrist. She looked at it, seeing dark lines of the intricate SS and the minute cauldron on the highly polished disk in the pale light. The detail of the engraving and the relief of the cauldron were amazing and masterfully done. The tiny stirring rod rotated slowly within the cauldron, and a shimmer of steam rose in delicate patterns from its lip, obviously charmed in some manner. She turned the disk over, looked at the address again as she wondered what being Severus Snape’s apprentice would entail and gasped in realization of exactly what it meant.
According to the Muggle historical traditions, apprenticeships in the twelfth to fourteenth centuries lasted five to nine years. In the sixteenth to eighteenth centuries, it lasted seven years. The wizarding world was seeped in old traditions, to the point of stagnation, and that meant… Hermione threw back her covers and dressed hurriedly.
“Hermione, what-where are you going?” Margaret, another returning Muggle-born she shared her room with, asked groggily.
“The library,” she replied, lacing her trainers.
“Oh, right,” Margaret mumbled, rolling over and going back to sleep.
Hermione literally ran to the library, greeting Madam Pince as she unlocked the door, and walked as quickly as she could to the section of magical traditions. She’d found her answer in the first book she checked but wasn’t satisfied until she verifyed the answer in nine more. She closed the last book with a snap and set it back on the shelf, swallowing in nervousness. Seven years. She was his apprentice for seven years-to Severus Snape. Holy mother of Merlin, what have I done?
She rested her hand on the spines of the books, relevantly seeking serenity from the smell of the books, the feel of the leather under her fingertips and the quiet solitude, trying to calm her nerves. Another seven years under his tutelage and guidance. Her gaze fell on the bracelet again, shining in the soft lights of the lamps. He must have had this on him or had it ready… But how could he have known I’d twist his words into a verbal trap… Unless he’d planned it to happen! Slytherins are known for being cunning, the Sorting Hat always said so every year.
She pulled out another book and began to read the chapter on wizard traditions of property ownership. When she left school, she’d have to find a place to live, and although Harry would allow her to live with him, she had her parents’ house to consider. She was into the chapter of feudal rights when she heard the sound of someone softly clearing their throat.
“Miss Granger, I’m closing the library for breakfast,” Madam Pince called out quietly from the end of the bookshelf.
Hermione apologized, set the book back in its place and walked to the Great Hall, her mind in turmoil, trying to anticipate what her apprenticeship would entail. Her thoughts were distracted momentarily as she scanned the tables for her friends, smiling at Harry and Ron sitting across from Dean, Neville, and Ginny. Due to damage at the Ministry of Magic, the Auror Training program had been relocated to the unused classrooms in the castle, so even though her friends had been given honorary N.E.W.T.s, they were back in their dorms in Gryffindor tower as well. Besides, their training was every bit as demanding as her final N.E.W.T. year had been. Neville had returned as well, initially following in his parents footsteps, however, even though the Aurory welcomed Neville as a trainee, he’d changed his mind midterm, focusing on a year’s study under Professor Sprout instead. Hermione sat down next to Harry and grabbed some toast.
“‘Mione?” Ron asked, swallowing a mouthful of food. “Where were you? We waited and waited.”
“The library,” she replied, scooping up a serving of eggs.
“You do know that school is over, right?” Ron asked as Harry chuckled softly. “We get to enjoy ourselves for a week before going home and… What?”
“Bet she had to check an answer she thought she missed on her exams,” Harry said, nudging Ron on the shoulder. “And we have a week before summer Stealth practicals.”
“Oh, yes, more camping,” Ron groaned.
“No tents,” Harry said, grinning, “just us, our wand, a knife, and a first aid kit.”
Suddenly, Neville looked up from across the table, his eyes huge as he jabbed his chin with his spoon full of porridge.
She sucked in her breath suddenly acutely aware that Professor Snape stood behind her. “Miss Granger, I expect you in my office promptly after breakfast,” he said smoothly.
Hermione nearly choked on her toast as she swallowed too quickly to answer him, “Er, yes, sir.”
“Blimey!” Ron and Neville said at the same time when Professor Snape turned on his heel and walked away.
“What did you do?” Ron asked as Neville said, “Hermione, what’s he want with you now?”
She turned from watching Severus Snape, her master for the next seven years stride away, and tired to steady the racing pulse of her heart. “I assume he wants to talk to me. I’ll be fine. I’ll meet you in the common room after.”