Headmaster's Secret

Cup of Tea

Severus met with Hermione the next morning before his first class with first years. They were arguing about whether she should take on more than two classes a week or not. "You are not only a Potions Master brewing potions for nearly all of magical Britain, but a professor teaching potions to a school full of students, and a headmaster to the same school." Hermione was pacing the length of the classroom in anger. They had been arguing for over an hour. 

He watched her pace angrily, teeth gritted. He knew she was an overachiever, but this would be too much for her. She was Head Girl, taking NEWTS, overseeing a new program, teaching as a participant in that same program, and helping organize a ceremony on the grounds in celebration of all the people that was lost in the war. He wanted her to just do one class a week, however she made a good point that her doing at least two classes a week would help him out more. It made no sense for her to do more than two classes a week, though. He had no idea why she would want to do it. 

"Why do you want to do three a week?" Severus asked, utterly confused. He was leaning back in his chair in the classroom, studying her actions. 

She huffed. "The more data we have the better chances at a successful program. Also I know you need help," she said, avoiding eye contact. 

Severus highly doubted that she just wanted to help him. "How is your relationship with Weasley going?" He decided to ask. 

She turned around to stare at him, uneasy. "Fine." 

Severus has taught her for seven years, he knew when she wasn't telling the truth. He raised his eyebrow at her. "Miss Granger, I've known you since you were eleven years old. I know when you aren't truthful." 

She was still attempting to pace angrily, but loosing her anger. It was getting replaced with awkwardness and avoidance. Severus was starting to smirk at her attempt to avoid his questions. "Miss Granger, I'll make you a deal. Tell me what's going on with you and Ron, or you will not be doing this program and I will teach all classes myself."

Hermione looked at him, shockingly. He smirked, pleased that he was causing her pain. She sighed and went to sit in the first seat by his desk. "Alright," she agreed. "Ron and I are doing fine, honestly. However, I fear that us being apart will cause us to drift apart." 

Severus nodded. He conjured up a tea set and sent one to her. "I've never knew why you chose Potter and Weasley as your friends. They remind me an awful lot of Black and Potter's father." He took a sip of his tea. 

Taking a long slow sip from her own, she shrugged. "Honestly, I'm not sure, either. I suppose when I was a child in muggle school, I never felt like I belonged. When I came here, I wanted to prove myself, but still didn't feel like I fit in. After Ron made fun of me after Flitwick's class I hid in the bathroom crying until the troll came in and nearly killed me. They saved my life, so I sort of felt like it was my obligation." 

Raising an eyebrow, Severus sat up and leaned on the desk. "So, you stuck with Potter and Weasley because they saved you one time in first year? While the other seven years you constantly saved them?" 

He could hardly believe it. She just stayed friends with the two dunderheads because they saved her once. She nodded, taking another drink of her tea. "What do you see in Weasley?" He asked, daringly. 

"I don't know," Hermione stated. It was quiet for a moment, then she straightened her back and cleared her throat. "Now, I'll be doing Monday Wednesday and Friday classes for you. Kinglsey mentioned when I met with him over the summer that those are the days he would schedule meetings on those days." She stood up to leave. 

After Hermione left, Severus cleaned up the tea and started preparing for the first years. He kept thinking back to her worries. It didn't make sense. He knew there was more to it than just what Hermione said. She wasn't just scared that her and Weasley would drift apart. There was something else she was scared of. 

The day went by fast for Severus. Only four cauldrons blew up, two students got detention, and one close call that Severus nearly cursed a fourth year. He was finally back in his office, going over some proposals that Kinglsey had owled at lunch. He didn't have time to read them then, but now...he still didn't. He had to go over the lesson plans that Hermione wanted to do, he had to grade the papers he assigned during class and had to hand in at the end. 

He sighed deeply and took out the stack of papers that his students had to do in one class period. It was the third years papers on the Pepper Up Potion. He told them to write how to brew the Pepper Up potion by memory. It was a second year potion, so they should do well on it. Should was the key word. 

Before he started, someone knocked at the door. He sighed, but called, "Enter."

It was Hermione. She walked in with her arms full of books and parchment rolls, a quill stuck out of her bun. "Professor Snape, hi. I'm here to help write the lesson plans." She set her books and parchment on his desk and pulled the armchair up closer to the desk. 

She pulled out a detailed paper of the lesson plans for the first term and looked it over. She then handed it to Severus who took a glance at it. It was very detailed. He was impressed. Tomorrow was Wednesday, her first lesson. It was with the second years. She was going to teach them the Pepper Up potion first. Then the fourth years were going to learn Elixir to Enduce Euphoria. Then Third years were going to learn all about the wolfsbane potion. Sixth years were to brew a potion that they've learned in previous years. She even had an emergency plan for the years she didn't teach, first and fifth years. 

"Miss Granger, this is very detailed. Very impressive," he complimented. 

Hermione stopped looking through the stack of papers of the third year essays she summoned from where he set them and froze. He didn't take it to heart. It was the first time he really ever complimented her work ever in the seven years they've known each other. "Uh, thank you, sir," she said hesitantly. 

He tried to act as if it wasn't a big deal that he just complimented her. In truth, he's never really given a complete compliment without sarcasm or heavy eye rolling and sneers. He studied the exam papers attached at the end of the two week period. It was as tough as what he would give. 

"Have you talked with the others about their lessons?" Severus asked casually, setting aside the lesson plans and going back to the stack of essays he still had to grade. Then he remembered that she had the stack. 

"Yes, Draco and Professor McGonagall were talking about their lessons as I was leaving class. Draco seemed fairly interested. Ginny said that Luna was pleased to work with Flitwick, Neville and Sprout were arguing whether second years should be doing mandrakes or not, and Ginny herself was rather happy to have a chance to teach younger students like Harry taught us in fifth year. Tomorrow morning the teachers should bring a copy of the lesson plans." Hermione was focused on grading one of the third year essays.  Her red ink well was open and she was scribbling furiously over a certain line. 

Her eyebrows were furrowed and she had a look on her face that reminded Severus of himself. She was muttering to herself about something the kid wrote. "Everything alright?" he asked, picking up the letter that Kingsley sent. 

It was about the ceremony dedicated to all the people that died in the war. They wanted him to speak about how he survived. He sneered and balled up the letter. "Dunderheaded fool," he muttered as he started to send a reply. 

Hermione looked up from her grading. "Everything alright?"

"Don't worry about it?" he said in a harsh tone. For a while there were only the scratching of quills against parchment. "I can't believe they want me to speak at the ceremony!" 

The sudden yell caused Hermione to jump and spill the red ink all over the essay she was grading. She quickly started siphoning the ink into her wand with a clinched jaw. After the essay was cleaned, she set it aside and put the stopper in the well. "Why not speak at the ceremony?" she asked a little angrily. 

Severus set his quill down with a huff. "Firstly, I don't want to even speak to half the people in this school. Second," he hesitated. He didn't know if he should reveal it or not. "Secondly," he started again, "I don't even know how I was saved."