Severus, Redux: Chapter Twenty-One
(In which Hermione attends Potions class and has a pointed conversation with Professor Dumbledore...)
Hermione left the Potions classroom feeling positively wretched. It had started off well enough; Professor Slughorn was an interesting teacher. He had started the class with four potions to identify, and Hermione had manage to bank twenty points for Gryffindor. In Potions class. That had been a rather lovely novelty. She'd identified the first three out of the four: the Veritaserum had given itself away with such a low albedo, despite boiling. The Polyjuice was, of course, rather obvious on sight after her second year. Even Harry and Ron had to have recognised that one. The Amortentia…
Hermione sighed a little, remembering, and felt her cheeks heat in embarrassment. She had nearly blurted out in front of the entire class that her personal brand of attraction smelled like grass, parchment and Atreus.
It had been more than just that simplified version of scents, of course. The Amortentia had been reminiscent of a thousand summer evenings, the sweet warmth of July when the air heavy with freshly mown grass and the drugged languidness that came with a good book under a tree. It had smelt of new book bindings and clean parchment straight out of the packaging, the smell so full she could almost feel the texture under her fingers.
It had smelled of him. The subtle traces of tea tree oil and mint had blended in so seamlessly she hadn't realised what she had nearly given away until it was halfway out her mouth. Hermione had snapped her jaw shut and had carefully not looked at the boy sitting to her right. The scent had drifted from him to her, and from the potion in front of them, distracting her as she had attempted to pay attention to the class.
The fourth potion, Felix Felicis, had been dangled as a prize for the best potion in class--a prize of more value in these times then she thought even Professor Slughorn realised. Here he was reminding them it couldn't be used in sporting events, when a potion like that could grant her financial security now that she no longer had the support of her parents. It could provide just the right steps, just the right spells at just the right time to be pivotal in another battle like the one in the Department of Mysteries. A potion like that could mean the difference between life and death for someone; it could change the outcome of the entire war!
Hermione had always been the best in every class, and now that she finally had a Potions instructor who wouldn't ignore her efforts, it was in the bag. Eagerly she had got to work. The Draught of the Living Death was hard. She had been doing well, splendidly even, until she got to the sopophorous bean. It slid out from under her knife multiple times, the hard curve resistant to her efforts.
A glance to her left showed Harry only squinting at his textbook with a confused expression on his face. On her right, Atreus had queued several beans up and seemed to be playing with various ways to destroy them instead of following instructions. He reminded her of Seamus in Charms class. He seemed to be trying everything from the standard instructions of simply slicing and squeezing the bean to what appeared to be a garlic press. Where had he even found a garlic press? Atreus had considered the varying stages of sticky, gooey mess in front of him, and then to her horror, idly made notations about whatever his findings were in the margins of his book.
Hermione shook her head, unable to believe it, and had returned her attention to her own potion, scraping as much of the juice into the cauldron as she could. It wasn't perfect--the shade of purple was clearly off. Frustrated, and wishing she had brought a hairband to contain her increasingly frizzy hair, Hermione had stirred as instructed, hardly noticing as Harry had borrowed her knife.
Then the lesson had been over, and the Felix Felicis had been awarded to two outstanding students...Atreus and Harry. Stunned, embarrassed and angry, Hermione had watched with barely contained upset as Professor Slughorn had measured out two small vials of the precious liquid, and neither of them to her.
Atreus, she understood. Hadn't she already admitted that he was brilliant at Potions--far better than she, herself? Professor Slughorn had given him an arrested look and questioned exactly how he was related to Snape. Atreus had compressed his lips and had reluctantly explained that he was Professor Snape's nephew, and that his father had died. Professor Slughorn had nodded, looking a bit disturbed, and had moved on to the other winner.
Harry Potter! Hermione's efforts had bloody well carried Harry through half of his Potions classes! How in the hell had he managed to make a better Draught of Living Death than she had? His pleased, smug expression as he had accepted Professor Slughorn's praise had curled her fingers into fists.
It was supposed to be her moment, her day to prove that she wasn't inadequate at potions, her Felix Felicis. She might not have minded so much if Harry had actually deserved to win. He had explained, of course, once they were away from prying ears. He hadn't suddenly developed a keen Potions talent overnight, as he had led the Professor to believe.
Harry had cheated. Someone had written notes in his book, and he had used them to cheat. He had trusted the random instructions of a mysterious book over the professor! Hermione's mood had gone from wretched to seething in a matter of moments. She had worked so hard for years to do something, anything to impress Professor Snape, and when they finally had a teacher who would give her a chance--after Harry had even told that teacher she was the best in their year--he had cheated and had stolen the moment away from her.
Ginny had got wind of it, and had gratifyingly taken her side. She had her own reasons to mistrust mysterious books, after all. Hermione had been given the chance to try a couple spells on the book. It had not been enchanted in the least, which was a pity. She might have been able to make a case for him putting it aside if it had been.
Then she had seen a bit more of the inside, and had nearly fallen over in shock. She wondered if Harry would be more willing to ignore the textbook's instructions if he was aware of exactly who the author was.
She recognised that cramped, spiky writing all too well. She had spent nearly the entire summer in Atreus' company, and hadn't she just seen him making similar notations in his current textbook? It would be rather interesting to see how closely the old book and the current one matched at the end of the year.
It really wasn't fair for Harry to have it, though. Even if one were to push aside Hermione's own acrimony at being showed up by a cheater, it was worse for Atreus. He put an incredible amount of thought, study and effort into improving potions. To have his work copied without his knowledge or permission, by Harry Potter, of all people, would quite possibly send him over the edge. It simply wasn't fair!
Hermione's little green monster rode her shoulder as she marched all the way up to the entrance of the Headmaster's office. Ostensibly she was going to ask the headmaster about taking charge of the Marauder's Map, but she knew she would be bringing up Harry's "new" textbook as well. If Harry Potter thought he could get away with breezing through his N.E.W.T. potions class after only getting in on a technicality, he had another think coming! Hermione wasn't usually the sort to tell tales, especially not on her friends, but he couldn't be allowed to just have a free pass like this! Not when they were covering important things he might actually need to know!
Hermione stopped short by the gargoyle on the third floor, eyeing it for a moment. Perhaps she should just mention the map. The last time she had brought up a concern to Professor Dumbledore about one of Harry's possessions--his Firebolt--the boys had refused to speak to her for months. They were already upset with her because of Defence this morning. Was she being unreasonable about Potions class?
Then she remembered the events of the day. Harry had been an absolute arse to Professor Snape, only to have his detention conveniently circumvented by Professor Dumbledore's private lessons. He had blamed her for doing what she always did--her best--and then cheated in Potions class off Professor Snape's hard work from twenty years ago. Her hurt firmed her resolve.
"Acid Pops," Hermione told the gargoyle, pushing aside any guilt she felt about using the password she'd overheard from Harry to get him in trouble. It leapt out of the way, revealing the spiral staircase. A few moments later and she was knocking on the office door itself.
To her surprise, Professor Snape was already in the headmaster's office, his expression thunderous. He gave Hermione an annoyed glance, then said tightly, "This conversation is not concluded, not on any point. I cannot do what must be done if you continue to keep secrets and strip my authority."
Professor Dumbledore smiled genially at Professor Snape. "Of course not. Perhaps after supper, if you are available, we can discuss this further? Yes? Alright then, I'll see you then."
Professor Snape gave Hermione another annoyed look, then swept from the room, his countenance glowering and his robes snapping behind him. Professor Dumbledore's twinkling gaze settled on her, and Hermione felt a moment of self-consciousness. Clearly she'd interrupted something. No doubt her Defence professor would make certain she paid for it later. Hermione sighed and took a seat in front of the headmaster, idly accepting one of proffered lemon sweets.
"Miss Granger, what a felicitous surprise. Perhaps you are here to give me an update on young Atreus, and how he is settling in?"
Felicitous. It was almost as if the Headmaster already knew… Hermione shifted in her chair uncomfortably. He couldn't, could he? It had just happened. The short silence reminded Hermione she had just been asked a question, and she grimaced a little. She had honestly kind of forgotten she was supposed to be "helping" Atreus settle in. Not that he seemed to need it, really. "No, sir. I think he is doing well enough--as near as I can tell, at any rate. We are in separate houses and it's only the second day of school. If you're asking how he gets along with Harry, the answer to that is not at all. I don't see that changing a whole lot, to be honest."
Professor Dumbledore made a few humming noises, then murmured, "A pity."
"Whilst we're on the subject, though, I took the liberty of removing this from the library." Hermione dug into her bag, removed the Gold Book and placed it on the desk between them. "Atreus is new, which always inspires curiosity and gossip. What's worse, no one has ever heard of him before. It seemed inevitable that someone would attempt to look his name up."
Dumbledore gave her a pleased smile, "Once more, you prove yourself to be a very clever young lady and a credit to you house. Five points, Miss Granger."
She hadn't expected that. It felt rather...strange, accepting points for something that was both unrelated to school and obvious. Uncertain how to respond, Hermione fidgeted, and then said quietly, "Sir, I really don't like keeping secrets from Harry. It would make more sense to him if we told him, and whilst he might not be happy about it, he would at least understand--"
Professor Dumbledore blinked over his half-moon glasses. "I disagree, Miss Granger. He has a great deal on his mind this year...a very great deal. Best not to add to that burden with something trivial like this."
Hermione's felt herself gape. "But...but Professor, after last year…!"
"You really must trust that I know best, Miss Granger. I will not make the mistake I made last year with him. I will be giving him private lessons and a few important tasks this year on top of his usual schoolwork. As you know, sixth year lessons are not light, it will be quite a lot for him to manage without worrying about Mr. Prince and how he fits in with Harry's animosity toward Professor Snape."
"He's cheating, sir," Hermione blurted. She hadn't, until that moment, been positive about whether or not she would go through with telling on Harry. The words had slipped out, though, and in her frustration, she was glad.
Professor Dumbledore gave her an inscrutable look. After a moment, he seemed to make up his mind about something, and replied gravely, "That is a very serious accusation, Miss Granger. One that may affect more than just Harry, if other students are involved. Are you quite certain that he is cheating?" The threat was subtly made, but there. Clearly, Professor Dumbledore thought Harry was cheating off her, and was hoping that the possible consequences would make her drop the subject. It made Hermione's blood boil to hear. She had helped Harry and Ron with their homework in the past, but she had never let them actually copy her work. Hermione crossed her arms and nodded shortly at Professor Dumbledore in response.
Professor Dumbledore regarded her seriously and asked, "In what way is Harry cheating?"
"He's got an old textbook of Professor Snape's, sir. He's copying all of Professor Snape's potion work from when he was a sixth year." Hermione answered evenly.
"Ah, I see." Professor Dumbledore idly fiddled with one of the knickknacks on his desk. "Miss Granger, Professor Snape is an instructor at this institution, and has been for many, many years. Until this year, his subject matter was, indeed, Potions class. Whilst unconventional, surely you can see that a student using a former textbook and insights of a professor could be considered just another form of teaching. Private tutoring, perhaps? No doubt Professor Snape would only be too happy to know that another student was taking his class seriously and utilising all methods at his disposal."
Hermione scowled. "Professor Snape was not a professor when he wrote those notes. Just because he is now doesn't mean his student work can be considered course material. I certainly doubt Professor Snape would be pleased to hear that Harry of all people is copying his work. It's especially unfair to Atreus, sir! He's actually doing all that hard work and Harry is getting just as much credit for it. It's cheating."
Professor Dumbledore was silent for a long moment, and then said quietly, "Miss Granger, I would typically not burden you so, but I believe you to be a very mature and responsible young lady. You are within days of reaching your official age of majority within the Wizarding world, at which time you would be eligible to join the Order of the Phoenix should you be invited to do so by its leaders. May I count on your discretion should I entrust you with important information regarding this year?"
A slight chill shivered down Hermione's spine and warred with her indignation and pride. It was an effort not to blurt out immediately that of course she was trustworthy. It was flattering that he thought she was worth treating as an adult, but even so, she felt strangely reluctant to make promises that she might regret later. Professor Snape's frustrated words from earlier came back to her.
"I cannot do what must be done if you continue to keep secrets and strip my authority."
Surely it would be better to know than not? Hermione answered slowly, "I believe so, sir. It would depend upon the nature of what I am told. I'll not put people in danger with my silence."
Professor Dumbledore nodded gravely. "Well said, Miss Granger. If you believe that someone is in true danger, you may of course inform your House Head of anything you hear today. There are many things happening this year--things of paramount importance." Professor Dumbledore paused, as if to be sure she understood, and continued, "I am going to be giving Harry a task that no other could do. If he succeeds, it will be a monumental step closer in defeating Voldemort.
"However, in order for Harry to succeed in his ultimate goal, I need--we need--Harry to be Professor Slughorn's favourite student. Professor Slughorn has some very important information and he refuses to share it, or to even admit that he knows it. However, he has shown a weakness in the past for particular pupils of his, and Harry has the advantage of already being someone that Professor Slughorn would like to take under his wing in particular. I have been informed that he has already started to gather a select few students as his personal protégés, that they were invited to sit with him on the train, is that not so?"
Hermione nodded as she understood, and the uneasy feeling in her stomach seemed to calcify into a hard rock. Professor Dumbledore was not going to keep Harry from cheating. He was going to turn a blind eye, or even encourage him to cheat for the sake of Harry's secret mission.
Her fists clenched and unclenched under the desk where the headmaster couldn't see. "You're telling me that Harry's education and the unfair advantage he's getting over other students is worth the cost of getting this information that the professor is otherwise refusing to give. Information, I might add, that you can't even prove he actually has!"
"Yes, Hermione. A fairly cheap price, considering the return--allowing Harry to continue to use Professor Snape's previous textbook does not put anyone in danger--no students are being clubbed by trolls or stone chess pieces, or petrified, no one is being chased by werewolves or dementors. No one is being pitted against magical monsters, Death Eaters or facing Voldemort themselves. No one's wand is being snapped and no one is dying, Hermione, as Mr. Diggory and Mr. Black have already. There are many in the Order who have paid and are paying a far higher price in order to lend their assistance.
"I am sorry this situation disappoints you." His voice made it clear that he was disappointed in her for being upset. "But we all must sacrifice in order to win this war, and this is a small price to pay. Now, I must ask you again for your discretion concerning these events."
Her throat tight, Hermione nodded. "I won't say anything, if it's really that important."
Professor Dumbledore smiled at her and said with surprising lightness, "Thank you, Miss Granger."
Unable to keep herself from asking, Hermione blurted, "Sir? Did you arrange for Harry to get Professor Snape's old textbook?"
Professor Dumbledore's smiled benignly again, the twinkle returning to his pale blue eyes. "No, indeed, Miss Granger. I did not even realise Professor Snape's previous textbook was still about, or that he was prone to keeping his secrets in it. I certainly did not arrange for Harry to come into possession of it. That is merely wonderful good fortune for us, isn't it?"
Good fortune. Yes, Hermione understood all too well. It was difficult not to understand, as unsubtle as the headmaster was being; he had all but smacked his lips.
Hermione smiled tightly, and stood. "Might I have an excuse note for Professor Flitwick, sir? I'm late for N.E.W.T. Charms."
"Of course, of course. Just be sure not to be late for Magical Theory tomorrow, Miss Granger. Professor Saxena's N.E.W.T.-level classes include some ideas that I think you might find fascinating." Professor Dumbledore said idly, writing out a note for her.
Hermione nodded, her feelings a strange mixture of anger, curiosity and resignation. What sort of information could Professor Slughorn have that Professor Dumbledore believed Harry could retrieve when he couldn't?
A/N: Thank you for reading! :-) Please review.
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Hermione left the Potions classroom feeling positively wretched. It had started off well enough; Professor Slughorn was an interesting teacher. He had started the class with four potions to identify, and Hermione had manage to bank twenty points for Gryffindor. In Potions class. That had been a rather lovely novelty. She'd identified the first three out of the four: the Veritaserum had given itself away with such a low albedo, despite boiling. The Polyjuice was, of course, rather obvious on sight after her second year. Even Harry and Ron had to have recognised that one. The Amortentia…
Hermione sighed a little, remembering, and felt her cheeks heat in embarrassment. She had nearly blurted out in front of the entire class that her personal brand of attraction smelled like grass, parchment and Atreus.
It had been more than just that simplified version of scents, of course. The Amortentia had been reminiscent of a thousand summer evenings, the sweet warmth of July when the air heavy with freshly mown grass and the drugged languidness that came with a good book under a tree. It had smelt of new book bindings and clean parchment straight out of the packaging, the smell so full she could almost feel the texture under her fingers.
It had smelled of him. The subtle traces of tea tree oil and mint had blended in so seamlessly she hadn't realised what she had nearly given away until it was halfway out her mouth. Hermione had snapped her jaw shut and had carefully not looked at the boy sitting to her right. The scent had drifted from him to her, and from the potion in front of them, distracting her as she had attempted to pay attention to the class.
The fourth potion, Felix Felicis, had been dangled as a prize for the best potion in class--a prize of more value in these times then she thought even Professor Slughorn realised. Here he was reminding them it couldn't be used in sporting events, when a potion like that could grant her financial security now that she no longer had the support of her parents. It could provide just the right steps, just the right spells at just the right time to be pivotal in another battle like the one in the Department of Mysteries. A potion like that could mean the difference between life and death for someone; it could change the outcome of the entire war!
Hermione had always been the best in every class, and now that she finally had a Potions instructor who wouldn't ignore her efforts, it was in the bag. Eagerly she had got to work. The Draught of the Living Death was hard. She had been doing well, splendidly even, until she got to the sopophorous bean. It slid out from under her knife multiple times, the hard curve resistant to her efforts.
A glance to her left showed Harry only squinting at his textbook with a confused expression on his face. On her right, Atreus had queued several beans up and seemed to be playing with various ways to destroy them instead of following instructions. He reminded her of Seamus in Charms class. He seemed to be trying everything from the standard instructions of simply slicing and squeezing the bean to what appeared to be a garlic press. Where had he even found a garlic press? Atreus had considered the varying stages of sticky, gooey mess in front of him, and then to her horror, idly made notations about whatever his findings were in the margins of his book.
Hermione shook her head, unable to believe it, and had returned her attention to her own potion, scraping as much of the juice into the cauldron as she could. It wasn't perfect--the shade of purple was clearly off. Frustrated, and wishing she had brought a hairband to contain her increasingly frizzy hair, Hermione had stirred as instructed, hardly noticing as Harry had borrowed her knife.
Then the lesson had been over, and the Felix Felicis had been awarded to two outstanding students...Atreus and Harry. Stunned, embarrassed and angry, Hermione had watched with barely contained upset as Professor Slughorn had measured out two small vials of the precious liquid, and neither of them to her.
Atreus, she understood. Hadn't she already admitted that he was brilliant at Potions--far better than she, herself? Professor Slughorn had given him an arrested look and questioned exactly how he was related to Snape. Atreus had compressed his lips and had reluctantly explained that he was Professor Snape's nephew, and that his father had died. Professor Slughorn had nodded, looking a bit disturbed, and had moved on to the other winner.
Harry Potter! Hermione's efforts had bloody well carried Harry through half of his Potions classes! How in the hell had he managed to make a better Draught of Living Death than she had? His pleased, smug expression as he had accepted Professor Slughorn's praise had curled her fingers into fists.
It was supposed to be her moment, her day to prove that she wasn't inadequate at potions, her Felix Felicis. She might not have minded so much if Harry had actually deserved to win. He had explained, of course, once they were away from prying ears. He hadn't suddenly developed a keen Potions talent overnight, as he had led the Professor to believe.
Harry had cheated. Someone had written notes in his book, and he had used them to cheat. He had trusted the random instructions of a mysterious book over the professor! Hermione's mood had gone from wretched to seething in a matter of moments. She had worked so hard for years to do something, anything to impress Professor Snape, and when they finally had a teacher who would give her a chance--after Harry had even told that teacher she was the best in their year--he had cheated and had stolen the moment away from her.
Ginny had got wind of it, and had gratifyingly taken her side. She had her own reasons to mistrust mysterious books, after all. Hermione had been given the chance to try a couple spells on the book. It had not been enchanted in the least, which was a pity. She might have been able to make a case for him putting it aside if it had been.
Then she had seen a bit more of the inside, and had nearly fallen over in shock. She wondered if Harry would be more willing to ignore the textbook's instructions if he was aware of exactly who the author was.
She recognised that cramped, spiky writing all too well. She had spent nearly the entire summer in Atreus' company, and hadn't she just seen him making similar notations in his current textbook? It would be rather interesting to see how closely the old book and the current one matched at the end of the year.
It really wasn't fair for Harry to have it, though. Even if one were to push aside Hermione's own acrimony at being showed up by a cheater, it was worse for Atreus. He put an incredible amount of thought, study and effort into improving potions. To have his work copied without his knowledge or permission, by Harry Potter, of all people, would quite possibly send him over the edge. It simply wasn't fair!
Hermione's little green monster rode her shoulder as she marched all the way up to the entrance of the Headmaster's office. Ostensibly she was going to ask the headmaster about taking charge of the Marauder's Map, but she knew she would be bringing up Harry's "new" textbook as well. If Harry Potter thought he could get away with breezing through his N.E.W.T. potions class after only getting in on a technicality, he had another think coming! Hermione wasn't usually the sort to tell tales, especially not on her friends, but he couldn't be allowed to just have a free pass like this! Not when they were covering important things he might actually need to know!
Hermione stopped short by the gargoyle on the third floor, eyeing it for a moment. Perhaps she should just mention the map. The last time she had brought up a concern to Professor Dumbledore about one of Harry's possessions--his Firebolt--the boys had refused to speak to her for months. They were already upset with her because of Defence this morning. Was she being unreasonable about Potions class?
Then she remembered the events of the day. Harry had been an absolute arse to Professor Snape, only to have his detention conveniently circumvented by Professor Dumbledore's private lessons. He had blamed her for doing what she always did--her best--and then cheated in Potions class off Professor Snape's hard work from twenty years ago. Her hurt firmed her resolve.
"Acid Pops," Hermione told the gargoyle, pushing aside any guilt she felt about using the password she'd overheard from Harry to get him in trouble. It leapt out of the way, revealing the spiral staircase. A few moments later and she was knocking on the office door itself.
To her surprise, Professor Snape was already in the headmaster's office, his expression thunderous. He gave Hermione an annoyed glance, then said tightly, "This conversation is not concluded, not on any point. I cannot do what must be done if you continue to keep secrets and strip my authority."
Professor Dumbledore smiled genially at Professor Snape. "Of course not. Perhaps after supper, if you are available, we can discuss this further? Yes? Alright then, I'll see you then."
Professor Snape gave Hermione another annoyed look, then swept from the room, his countenance glowering and his robes snapping behind him. Professor Dumbledore's twinkling gaze settled on her, and Hermione felt a moment of self-consciousness. Clearly she'd interrupted something. No doubt her Defence professor would make certain she paid for it later. Hermione sighed and took a seat in front of the headmaster, idly accepting one of proffered lemon sweets.
"Miss Granger, what a felicitous surprise. Perhaps you are here to give me an update on young Atreus, and how he is settling in?"
Felicitous. It was almost as if the Headmaster already knew… Hermione shifted in her chair uncomfortably. He couldn't, could he? It had just happened. The short silence reminded Hermione she had just been asked a question, and she grimaced a little. She had honestly kind of forgotten she was supposed to be "helping" Atreus settle in. Not that he seemed to need it, really. "No, sir. I think he is doing well enough--as near as I can tell, at any rate. We are in separate houses and it's only the second day of school. If you're asking how he gets along with Harry, the answer to that is not at all. I don't see that changing a whole lot, to be honest."
Professor Dumbledore made a few humming noises, then murmured, "A pity."
"Whilst we're on the subject, though, I took the liberty of removing this from the library." Hermione dug into her bag, removed the Gold Book and placed it on the desk between them. "Atreus is new, which always inspires curiosity and gossip. What's worse, no one has ever heard of him before. It seemed inevitable that someone would attempt to look his name up."
Dumbledore gave her a pleased smile, "Once more, you prove yourself to be a very clever young lady and a credit to you house. Five points, Miss Granger."
She hadn't expected that. It felt rather...strange, accepting points for something that was both unrelated to school and obvious. Uncertain how to respond, Hermione fidgeted, and then said quietly, "Sir, I really don't like keeping secrets from Harry. It would make more sense to him if we told him, and whilst he might not be happy about it, he would at least understand--"
Professor Dumbledore blinked over his half-moon glasses. "I disagree, Miss Granger. He has a great deal on his mind this year...a very great deal. Best not to add to that burden with something trivial like this."
Hermione's felt herself gape. "But...but Professor, after last year…!"
"You really must trust that I know best, Miss Granger. I will not make the mistake I made last year with him. I will be giving him private lessons and a few important tasks this year on top of his usual schoolwork. As you know, sixth year lessons are not light, it will be quite a lot for him to manage without worrying about Mr. Prince and how he fits in with Harry's animosity toward Professor Snape."
"He's cheating, sir," Hermione blurted. She hadn't, until that moment, been positive about whether or not she would go through with telling on Harry. The words had slipped out, though, and in her frustration, she was glad.
Professor Dumbledore gave her an inscrutable look. After a moment, he seemed to make up his mind about something, and replied gravely, "That is a very serious accusation, Miss Granger. One that may affect more than just Harry, if other students are involved. Are you quite certain that he is cheating?" The threat was subtly made, but there. Clearly, Professor Dumbledore thought Harry was cheating off her, and was hoping that the possible consequences would make her drop the subject. It made Hermione's blood boil to hear. She had helped Harry and Ron with their homework in the past, but she had never let them actually copy her work. Hermione crossed her arms and nodded shortly at Professor Dumbledore in response.
Professor Dumbledore regarded her seriously and asked, "In what way is Harry cheating?"
"He's got an old textbook of Professor Snape's, sir. He's copying all of Professor Snape's potion work from when he was a sixth year." Hermione answered evenly.
"Ah, I see." Professor Dumbledore idly fiddled with one of the knickknacks on his desk. "Miss Granger, Professor Snape is an instructor at this institution, and has been for many, many years. Until this year, his subject matter was, indeed, Potions class. Whilst unconventional, surely you can see that a student using a former textbook and insights of a professor could be considered just another form of teaching. Private tutoring, perhaps? No doubt Professor Snape would only be too happy to know that another student was taking his class seriously and utilising all methods at his disposal."
Hermione scowled. "Professor Snape was not a professor when he wrote those notes. Just because he is now doesn't mean his student work can be considered course material. I certainly doubt Professor Snape would be pleased to hear that Harry of all people is copying his work. It's especially unfair to Atreus, sir! He's actually doing all that hard work and Harry is getting just as much credit for it. It's cheating."
Professor Dumbledore was silent for a long moment, and then said quietly, "Miss Granger, I would typically not burden you so, but I believe you to be a very mature and responsible young lady. You are within days of reaching your official age of majority within the Wizarding world, at which time you would be eligible to join the Order of the Phoenix should you be invited to do so by its leaders. May I count on your discretion should I entrust you with important information regarding this year?"
A slight chill shivered down Hermione's spine and warred with her indignation and pride. It was an effort not to blurt out immediately that of course she was trustworthy. It was flattering that he thought she was worth treating as an adult, but even so, she felt strangely reluctant to make promises that she might regret later. Professor Snape's frustrated words from earlier came back to her.
"I cannot do what must be done if you continue to keep secrets and strip my authority."
Surely it would be better to know than not? Hermione answered slowly, "I believe so, sir. It would depend upon the nature of what I am told. I'll not put people in danger with my silence."
Professor Dumbledore nodded gravely. "Well said, Miss Granger. If you believe that someone is in true danger, you may of course inform your House Head of anything you hear today. There are many things happening this year--things of paramount importance." Professor Dumbledore paused, as if to be sure she understood, and continued, "I am going to be giving Harry a task that no other could do. If he succeeds, it will be a monumental step closer in defeating Voldemort.
"However, in order for Harry to succeed in his ultimate goal, I need--we need--Harry to be Professor Slughorn's favourite student. Professor Slughorn has some very important information and he refuses to share it, or to even admit that he knows it. However, he has shown a weakness in the past for particular pupils of his, and Harry has the advantage of already being someone that Professor Slughorn would like to take under his wing in particular. I have been informed that he has already started to gather a select few students as his personal protégés, that they were invited to sit with him on the train, is that not so?"
Hermione nodded as she understood, and the uneasy feeling in her stomach seemed to calcify into a hard rock. Professor Dumbledore was not going to keep Harry from cheating. He was going to turn a blind eye, or even encourage him to cheat for the sake of Harry's secret mission.
Her fists clenched and unclenched under the desk where the headmaster couldn't see. "You're telling me that Harry's education and the unfair advantage he's getting over other students is worth the cost of getting this information that the professor is otherwise refusing to give. Information, I might add, that you can't even prove he actually has!"
"Yes, Hermione. A fairly cheap price, considering the return--allowing Harry to continue to use Professor Snape's previous textbook does not put anyone in danger--no students are being clubbed by trolls or stone chess pieces, or petrified, no one is being chased by werewolves or dementors. No one is being pitted against magical monsters, Death Eaters or facing Voldemort themselves. No one's wand is being snapped and no one is dying, Hermione, as Mr. Diggory and Mr. Black have already. There are many in the Order who have paid and are paying a far higher price in order to lend their assistance.
"I am sorry this situation disappoints you." His voice made it clear that he was disappointed in her for being upset. "But we all must sacrifice in order to win this war, and this is a small price to pay. Now, I must ask you again for your discretion concerning these events."
Her throat tight, Hermione nodded. "I won't say anything, if it's really that important."
Professor Dumbledore smiled at her and said with surprising lightness, "Thank you, Miss Granger."
Unable to keep herself from asking, Hermione blurted, "Sir? Did you arrange for Harry to get Professor Snape's old textbook?"
Professor Dumbledore's smiled benignly again, the twinkle returning to his pale blue eyes. "No, indeed, Miss Granger. I did not even realise Professor Snape's previous textbook was still about, or that he was prone to keeping his secrets in it. I certainly did not arrange for Harry to come into possession of it. That is merely wonderful good fortune for us, isn't it?"
Good fortune. Yes, Hermione understood all too well. It was difficult not to understand, as unsubtle as the headmaster was being; he had all but smacked his lips.
Hermione smiled tightly, and stood. "Might I have an excuse note for Professor Flitwick, sir? I'm late for N.E.W.T. Charms."
"Of course, of course. Just be sure not to be late for Magical Theory tomorrow, Miss Granger. Professor Saxena's N.E.W.T.-level classes include some ideas that I think you might find fascinating." Professor Dumbledore said idly, writing out a note for her.
Hermione nodded, her feelings a strange mixture of anger, curiosity and resignation. What sort of information could Professor Slughorn have that Professor Dumbledore believed Harry could retrieve when he couldn't?
A/N: Thank you for reading! :-) Please review.
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