Categories > Books > Harry Potter > The Secret Lives Of Potions Masters
(Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter, nor anything contained within these pages, no infringement is intended)
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After Dumbledore had informed Hermione of the severity of Professor Snape’s injuries, they both fell into silence as they navigated the darkened halls of Hogwarts. Professor Dumbledore was organizing his thoughts for the conversation ahead, while Hermione was lost in hers. Hermione was so preoccupied, she barely noticed where Professor Dumbledore was leading her.
‘Professor Snape can’t die. The Order can’t afford to lose anymore people, especially not Snape, he’s already suffered so much in the service of the Order. Dark mark aside, most of Snape’s suffering remained unknown, but did the adults really expect the younger generation to believe Voldemort wasn’t hurting Snape every time he was called. This just proves it once and for all,’ fumed Hermione silently, ‘Snape had risked his life for them, for Harry. I have to do everything I can to save Snape. We need him. No matter how much Harry and Ron would like to deny it, Snape is important.’ Hermione’s thoughts at last revealed their true bent. ‘If only we had thought of him last year, if only we had trusted him … Sirius might still be alive.’
"Ahem, Miss Granger," Dumbledore’s voice penetrated the din of her mind. Hermione blushed slightly when she realized they had reached the door to the Professor’s office, she wondered how long they had been standing there. "Mint humbug," Professor Dumbledore announced as his current password. The wall began to slide away revealing a hidden staircase behind it. "Please, after you, Miss Granger," offered Dumbledore politely. Hermione stepped forward through the opening and on to the stairs, Dumbledore followed. As they began their ascent, the wall closed up behind them.
"Please," Dumbledore said again, "have a seat," gesturing towards a chair by his desk. Hermione sat, unwillingly, on the very edge of the seat, both feet planted firmly on the ground and looked around. The majority of the paintings were empty she realized, and quite a few were covered, even Fawkes’ perch was abandoned. ‘It’s as if they realized he needed privacy,’ Hermione thought, though she was surprised that they’d given it, the paintings at Hogwarts had developed a reputation for being nosy. Dumbledore then walked around behind his desk, and opening one of the bottom drawers, he gingerly removed a sealed envelope which he then placed on top of his desk.
"Hermione," he spoke as he made his way over to a small cupboard, "as both a teacher and Headmaster here at Hogwarts, it has been my pleasure to encounter some of the finest minds and talents present in the wizarding world, yours included my dear." Dumbledore bestowed a small smile in Hermione’s direction before resuming his perusal of the objects contained in the cupboard. Hermione blushed in reaction to such praise from a wizard she greatly admired, glad that Harry and Ron weren’t present as they’d never stop teasing her about it. Dumbledore then removed two artifacts, and closing the cupboard, he placed them on the desk next to the envelope.
As Professor Dumbledore began his story, Hermione sat further back in her chair. Dumbledore however remained standing, occasionally pacing the breadth of his office, a sure sign of inner turmoil. "There was one student here, almost fifteen years ago now," Dumbledore shook his head slightly at the passage of time, while Hermione did a quick calculation in her head, ‘he would be twenty six now, whoever it is.’ Dumbledore continued, "this student showed impressive intelligence, talent and power, greater than my own or Voldemort’s, or even the two combined. As Mr. Ollivander is so fond of saying, we could expect great things from this boy."
Dumbledore voice grew grave as he continued, "It was later discovered that he had not come by the majority of his magic naturally, through no fault of his own, I assure you. He had had a difficult time here and at the end of his first year he witnessed the death of his parents and his as yet unborn brother. These events took place shortly after his eleventh birthday. Voldemort was later found to be responsible. Unfortunately, several days passed before the tragedy came to light. Days he had been forced to spend in an abandoned house with the corpses of his parents," Dumbledore said bluntly, trying to hammer the point home. "Oh, God," said Hermione, bile rising in her throat at the thought, she swallowed it down with a grimace. "How could that have happened?" Hermione questioned.
"It was a hectic and exciting time," Dumbledore replied, sighing, "remember our history, Miss Granger, think back," he instructed, "fifteen years ago, you would have been one year old, as would Mr. Weasley, as would Mr. Potter …" he trailed off. "Harry," Hermione thought, suddenly realizing what Dumbledore was referring to, "you mean?" she asked. "That very night," said Professor Dumbledore, sighing again. "Very few people know the specifics pertaining to that night and what happened after Voldemort encountered Harry. I am not one of them," Dumbledore said forestalling further questioning from Hermione. "As a result," Dumbledore said returning to the story at hand, "that pupil began to form an intense dislike towards magic of all kinds, both evil and good. This hatred for all things magical was compounded by the increasing difficulties the child was facing here at school."
"Why didn’t anyone do anything?" queried Hermione feeling a pang of sympathy for the unnamed boy. Hermione, too, felt out of place at Hogwarts from time to time. Remembering her first year there, before the troll encounter and her friendship with Ron and Harry, she felt a stirring of empathy as well, thinking, ‘how horrible it would be to go through seven years friendless and alone.’ "Believe me, Miss Granger," said Dumbledore interrupting her reflections, "it was only through the dedication and perseverance of one professor that the child managed to graduate at all." "Professor Snape?" Hermione guessed, thinking to herself the boy must have been Slytherin to earn Snape’s help. "Yes," said Dumbledore with a twinkle in his eye as he remembered times past, "though not without bloodshed and bruised egos, I assure you."
Dumbledore’s expression turned serious once more. "It was after his graduation ceremony that he approached me with a request," another twinkle formed and passed from Dumbledore’s eyes as he continued, "more of a demand really. He informed me that he had made his decision, he was finished with magic and wanted out of the wizarding world." Hermione gasped quietly at this twist in the tale, ‘how horrible his life must have become to run so far in an attempt to escape it.’ Dumbledore continued unheeding of the interruption, "He wanted to live out the rest of his days as a muggle, attending college, choosing a career, turning his back to our entire existence. However," Professor Dumbledore shrugged his shoulders, "to do so he needed my help; to get established in their world, and though I was reluctant, I gave it. A few days later he was gone and, to my knowledge he has never returned. I gave my word that I would protect his identity, should Voldemort return or a new evil rise, he would be left out of it."
Dumbledore squared his shoulders, "I am in the process of breaking that oath, and though it troubles me, I hold that it must be done for the greater good. You must understand Miss Granger, you cannot tell anyone, you cannot repeat a word of this to any of your friends. The content of this conversation, of you mission, must remain forever undisclosed, for safety’s sake." "Of course, Professor," said Hermione, slightly miffed that Dumbledore would suspect her of gossiping. ‘Still,’ she thought, ‘it will be hard not share this with Harry, Ron and Ginny. I hope they understand."
Dumbledore dipped a quill into the inkwell on his desk and began to write something on a spare piece of parchment. "Do not read this until you’ve arrived," he instructed, handing her the parchment. "He will require persuading, Hermione, he will not come easily. This," Dumbledore pointed to the envelope, "contains a letter from me, describing the situation, in case he doesn’t believe you; only use it as a last resort." Hermione picked up the letter, folded it and placed it in the pocket of her jeans next to the parchment. "This," Professor Dumbledore picked up a shiny metal hair pin and positioned it carefully in her hair, "is your key back to Hogwarts, you must be in physical contact with him when you touch the butterfly’s wing in order to carry you both." Dumbledore gestured towards to final item he had removed from the cupboard. Hermione looked closely at it’s familiar shape, " a pencil sharpener?" she asked. "Your port key," Dumbledore replied, "touch the blade carefully, it is still quite sharp."
"Oh, Miss Granger," Professor Dumbledore said, stopping her as she reached for the pencil sharpener, "you might also find this useful." At that he reached into the left hand pocket of his robe and pulled out a chain, at the bottom of which hung a time turner. "You never know," Dumbledore said as he put the necklace over her head, "when you will need a little more time," he finished with a half smile. "Good Luck," he said. Hermione reached again for the sharpener, closing her eyes when she felt the now familiar tug at her belly button. She vanished from Dumbledore’s office leaving a very worried headmaster in her wake.
Hermione opened her eyes and stepped back in shock. She turned full circle, unaware of how foolish she might look, in an attempt to get her bearings and take in her new surroundings. ‘The sights, the sounds, ye gods, even the temperature.' Hermione reached into her right hand pocket and pulled out the parchment Professor Dumbledore had given her, at last reading the two words written there. "You know," Hermione grumbled out loud, while taking a decisive step towards the building in front of her, "he could have been a bit more forthcoming."
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After Dumbledore had informed Hermione of the severity of Professor Snape’s injuries, they both fell into silence as they navigated the darkened halls of Hogwarts. Professor Dumbledore was organizing his thoughts for the conversation ahead, while Hermione was lost in hers. Hermione was so preoccupied, she barely noticed where Professor Dumbledore was leading her.
‘Professor Snape can’t die. The Order can’t afford to lose anymore people, especially not Snape, he’s already suffered so much in the service of the Order. Dark mark aside, most of Snape’s suffering remained unknown, but did the adults really expect the younger generation to believe Voldemort wasn’t hurting Snape every time he was called. This just proves it once and for all,’ fumed Hermione silently, ‘Snape had risked his life for them, for Harry. I have to do everything I can to save Snape. We need him. No matter how much Harry and Ron would like to deny it, Snape is important.’ Hermione’s thoughts at last revealed their true bent. ‘If only we had thought of him last year, if only we had trusted him … Sirius might still be alive.’
"Ahem, Miss Granger," Dumbledore’s voice penetrated the din of her mind. Hermione blushed slightly when she realized they had reached the door to the Professor’s office, she wondered how long they had been standing there. "Mint humbug," Professor Dumbledore announced as his current password. The wall began to slide away revealing a hidden staircase behind it. "Please, after you, Miss Granger," offered Dumbledore politely. Hermione stepped forward through the opening and on to the stairs, Dumbledore followed. As they began their ascent, the wall closed up behind them.
"Please," Dumbledore said again, "have a seat," gesturing towards a chair by his desk. Hermione sat, unwillingly, on the very edge of the seat, both feet planted firmly on the ground and looked around. The majority of the paintings were empty she realized, and quite a few were covered, even Fawkes’ perch was abandoned. ‘It’s as if they realized he needed privacy,’ Hermione thought, though she was surprised that they’d given it, the paintings at Hogwarts had developed a reputation for being nosy. Dumbledore then walked around behind his desk, and opening one of the bottom drawers, he gingerly removed a sealed envelope which he then placed on top of his desk.
"Hermione," he spoke as he made his way over to a small cupboard, "as both a teacher and Headmaster here at Hogwarts, it has been my pleasure to encounter some of the finest minds and talents present in the wizarding world, yours included my dear." Dumbledore bestowed a small smile in Hermione’s direction before resuming his perusal of the objects contained in the cupboard. Hermione blushed in reaction to such praise from a wizard she greatly admired, glad that Harry and Ron weren’t present as they’d never stop teasing her about it. Dumbledore then removed two artifacts, and closing the cupboard, he placed them on the desk next to the envelope.
As Professor Dumbledore began his story, Hermione sat further back in her chair. Dumbledore however remained standing, occasionally pacing the breadth of his office, a sure sign of inner turmoil. "There was one student here, almost fifteen years ago now," Dumbledore shook his head slightly at the passage of time, while Hermione did a quick calculation in her head, ‘he would be twenty six now, whoever it is.’ Dumbledore continued, "this student showed impressive intelligence, talent and power, greater than my own or Voldemort’s, or even the two combined. As Mr. Ollivander is so fond of saying, we could expect great things from this boy."
Dumbledore voice grew grave as he continued, "It was later discovered that he had not come by the majority of his magic naturally, through no fault of his own, I assure you. He had had a difficult time here and at the end of his first year he witnessed the death of his parents and his as yet unborn brother. These events took place shortly after his eleventh birthday. Voldemort was later found to be responsible. Unfortunately, several days passed before the tragedy came to light. Days he had been forced to spend in an abandoned house with the corpses of his parents," Dumbledore said bluntly, trying to hammer the point home. "Oh, God," said Hermione, bile rising in her throat at the thought, she swallowed it down with a grimace. "How could that have happened?" Hermione questioned.
"It was a hectic and exciting time," Dumbledore replied, sighing, "remember our history, Miss Granger, think back," he instructed, "fifteen years ago, you would have been one year old, as would Mr. Weasley, as would Mr. Potter …" he trailed off. "Harry," Hermione thought, suddenly realizing what Dumbledore was referring to, "you mean?" she asked. "That very night," said Professor Dumbledore, sighing again. "Very few people know the specifics pertaining to that night and what happened after Voldemort encountered Harry. I am not one of them," Dumbledore said forestalling further questioning from Hermione. "As a result," Dumbledore said returning to the story at hand, "that pupil began to form an intense dislike towards magic of all kinds, both evil and good. This hatred for all things magical was compounded by the increasing difficulties the child was facing here at school."
"Why didn’t anyone do anything?" queried Hermione feeling a pang of sympathy for the unnamed boy. Hermione, too, felt out of place at Hogwarts from time to time. Remembering her first year there, before the troll encounter and her friendship with Ron and Harry, she felt a stirring of empathy as well, thinking, ‘how horrible it would be to go through seven years friendless and alone.’ "Believe me, Miss Granger," said Dumbledore interrupting her reflections, "it was only through the dedication and perseverance of one professor that the child managed to graduate at all." "Professor Snape?" Hermione guessed, thinking to herself the boy must have been Slytherin to earn Snape’s help. "Yes," said Dumbledore with a twinkle in his eye as he remembered times past, "though not without bloodshed and bruised egos, I assure you."
Dumbledore’s expression turned serious once more. "It was after his graduation ceremony that he approached me with a request," another twinkle formed and passed from Dumbledore’s eyes as he continued, "more of a demand really. He informed me that he had made his decision, he was finished with magic and wanted out of the wizarding world." Hermione gasped quietly at this twist in the tale, ‘how horrible his life must have become to run so far in an attempt to escape it.’ Dumbledore continued unheeding of the interruption, "He wanted to live out the rest of his days as a muggle, attending college, choosing a career, turning his back to our entire existence. However," Professor Dumbledore shrugged his shoulders, "to do so he needed my help; to get established in their world, and though I was reluctant, I gave it. A few days later he was gone and, to my knowledge he has never returned. I gave my word that I would protect his identity, should Voldemort return or a new evil rise, he would be left out of it."
Dumbledore squared his shoulders, "I am in the process of breaking that oath, and though it troubles me, I hold that it must be done for the greater good. You must understand Miss Granger, you cannot tell anyone, you cannot repeat a word of this to any of your friends. The content of this conversation, of you mission, must remain forever undisclosed, for safety’s sake." "Of course, Professor," said Hermione, slightly miffed that Dumbledore would suspect her of gossiping. ‘Still,’ she thought, ‘it will be hard not share this with Harry, Ron and Ginny. I hope they understand."
Dumbledore dipped a quill into the inkwell on his desk and began to write something on a spare piece of parchment. "Do not read this until you’ve arrived," he instructed, handing her the parchment. "He will require persuading, Hermione, he will not come easily. This," Dumbledore pointed to the envelope, "contains a letter from me, describing the situation, in case he doesn’t believe you; only use it as a last resort." Hermione picked up the letter, folded it and placed it in the pocket of her jeans next to the parchment. "This," Professor Dumbledore picked up a shiny metal hair pin and positioned it carefully in her hair, "is your key back to Hogwarts, you must be in physical contact with him when you touch the butterfly’s wing in order to carry you both." Dumbledore gestured towards to final item he had removed from the cupboard. Hermione looked closely at it’s familiar shape, " a pencil sharpener?" she asked. "Your port key," Dumbledore replied, "touch the blade carefully, it is still quite sharp."
"Oh, Miss Granger," Professor Dumbledore said, stopping her as she reached for the pencil sharpener, "you might also find this useful." At that he reached into the left hand pocket of his robe and pulled out a chain, at the bottom of which hung a time turner. "You never know," Dumbledore said as he put the necklace over her head, "when you will need a little more time," he finished with a half smile. "Good Luck," he said. Hermione reached again for the sharpener, closing her eyes when she felt the now familiar tug at her belly button. She vanished from Dumbledore’s office leaving a very worried headmaster in her wake.
Hermione opened her eyes and stepped back in shock. She turned full circle, unaware of how foolish she might look, in an attempt to get her bearings and take in her new surroundings. ‘The sights, the sounds, ye gods, even the temperature.' Hermione reached into her right hand pocket and pulled out the parchment Professor Dumbledore had given her, at last reading the two words written there. "You know," Hermione grumbled out loud, while taking a decisive step towards the building in front of her, "he could have been a bit more forthcoming."
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