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Regaining by Vivien
Chapter 15: Resolution
Resolution: 2. a determining; decision as to future action

"Potter? Weasley? A word, if you please."

Harry and Ron hung back as the rest of their classmates left the Transfiguration classroom. It was a gloomy Tuesday morning, made even more so by Hermione's self-imposed exile to her room for the past few days.

Professor McGonagall regarded the boys kindly. "I wanted to inquire about Miss Granger. How is she doing? I haven't seen her at mealtimes since... the incident."

"Honestly, Professor, we're concerned about her," said Harry, "She won't leave her room."

"Ginny's been checking on her every few hours," continued Ron. "She said Hermione's not looking well at all. She stays in bed reading novels and pretty much ignores everyone who tries to talk to her."

"We've been bringing her food, but she's not eating much, either, apparently," said Harry. "We were going to talk to Madame Pomfrey this afternoon to ask her what we should do. I've never seen Hermione in such a state. She won't even talk to me."

"Thank you, boys," said Professor McGonagall, worriedly reaching for quill and parchment and hastily scribbling something down. "I'm glad you let me know. I will speak with Madame Pomfrey myself. You may go."

As the boys left, Minerva walked over to the classroom fireplace. She transfigured the flower vase on the mantle into a hinged box and took a pinch of Floo Powder from it. Flinging it into the fire, she called, "Poppy, do you have a moment?"

Poppy Pomfrey's head appeared in the fire. "What is it, Minerva?" she replied. "Make it quick, if you please."

"I've just spoken to Potter and Weasley. It doesn't sound like Hermione is improving at all. Should I order her to the Hospital Wing?"

Poppy sighed. "Did they indicate she was acting strangely, like she might hurt herself or anyone else?"

"No, not really. She's withdrawn to her room, and she isn't responding to any of her friends. Not eating well, not talking to anyone... what shall I do, Poppy? Contact Madame Valerian?"

"Write her at once. I should have done so last weekend. I don't think we need to sequester her here. I assume her friends are keeping a close eye on her?"

"Miss Weasley is checking on her frequently."

"Have them notify me immediately if they notice any unusual changes. Make sure you let Madame Valerian know the urgency of the situation. Hermione needs a trained Listener to evaluate her case. A patient needs me, Minerva, I must go."

"Thank you, Poppy," said Minerva, as Poppy's head disappeared from the fire. She transfigured the box back into the flower vase and returned to her desk. She began writing.

Hermione was filthy. She hadn't bathed and had hardly left her bed since Saturday. Crookshanks was pointedly ignoring her now, having left the bed for the less fragrant desk chair. She'd run out of novels to read on Monday night, and now she was literally aching with boredom and frustration. Damn Snape for taking her wand away. She could barely function at Hogwarts without it. The least he could have done was make sure she had matches and a bleeding candle or two in her room. She had had to ask Ginny to enchant her lamps to turn on and off with vocal commands. She felt ridiculous asking the lamps to perform.

She had spent the morning staring at the ceiling while shamelessly wallowing in self-pity. The inner dialogue taking place inside her head was pathetic and whining at times, brave and resigned at others, but never clear as to a course of action. As the sun rose fully to shine into the darkest corners of her room, the thought she had been dreading most became formed.

'If I left Hogwarts now, I could transfer to a Muggle school. It might take some doing, but I know Dumbedore would help me. Potions could stand for chemistry, Herbology for botany... we could figure out the rest. I would have time to take the A levels in the spring, and then...'

'Yes, Hermione, what then? What exactly are you going to do in the Muggle world? Be a dentist? The wizarding world is a part of you. You can't shrug it off because of a setback in your brilliant academic career. This is your life.'

'This is so unfair. I want to go home. I want Mum and Dad to make everything better again.'

'For gods sake, Granger - you're sixteen years old. They can't kiss it and make it all better anymore. You have to deal with it yourself.'

'I know I do. I know. It's hard. I'm not a quitter, even though quitting is the only thing I can think of to do.'

'Think of having a bath. Let's take this one step at a time. Get out of bed and do something.'

Hermione wasn't sure if this kind of heated inner debate was a good thing or not. It would be just her luck to go insane on top of everything else. However, the idea of going back to the Muggle world was not without its good points. She needed to consider all of her options. She swung her legs over the bed, slid into her fuzzy slippers, and headed for the Prefect's bathroom. She hoped the password hadn't changed yet. She knew that technically she shouldn't use it, but she needed a hot, lavender-scented soak like no one else in the castle could possibly need one.

Luckily the bathroom had been deserted, and the password had worked. When Hermione returned to her room an hour later, she saw that the House Elves had replaced her bedding, made the bed, and thoroughly aired out the room. Crookshanks glanced at her from his customary place on her pillow. Hermione smiled, feeling the muscles stretch her face. How could she have stayed in that bed so long? It felt so good to be out of it.

She dressed in her jeans and her favorite sweater, threw on her robes, and then sat down at her desk. What to do now? It was too late for breakfast, but Hermione thought she'd stop in the kitchens on the way to the library. She wasn't in the mood to do any schoolwork, but she did want to check the Muggle studies section. She thought there might be some novels to check out. It had been so long since she'd had a chance to catch up on fiction. She might be out of bed and out of the worst of the wallowing, but she wasn't quite ready to face either of her worlds just yet.

Hermione managed to leave the kitchens thoroughly stuffed with her favorite kind of quiche and a few different pastries. While the state of the House Elves enforced labor still concerned her greatly, she couldn't deny that they enjoyed serving humans. At least at Hogwarts they were treated as well as slaves could be treated. She was grateful for them, since her appetite, which had been dormant for the past few days, had suddenly come roaring to life.

In much better spirits, she checked out a few books from the library, including the complete works of Shakespeare in one light, magically compressed volume.

Madame Pince had eyed her suspiciously. "Why aren't you in class, young lady?"

"I'm recovering from a tragic malady. I have the whole week off," she said, a bit cheekily. Hermione had never cared much for the librarian. Seeing Madame Pince's eyebrow shoot up even further, she added, "Ask Madame Pomfrey if you don't believe me."

"You ought to be resting then. Back to your dormitory, Miss Granger. You shan't be recovering from your 'malady' in my library."

Not for the first time Hermione wondered if Madame Pince was any relation to Professor Snape. She huffily took her books and left the library. This placed her in a quandary. Having finally left her room, she didn't want to go back to it just yet. She wanted to avoid the other students and teachers as much as possible, and she couldn't stay in the library. Where to go, then? She looked up and down the hallway in the hope she might find the Tranquillity Parlor, but no such luck.

'Right then, Granger - let's go exploring.'

Hermione headed off to the only part of the castle she knew of that didn't have many classes in regular session. The East Tower wing contained classrooms for a few upper level courses, but to Hermione's knowledge, not much else. She was hoping to find a comfortable nook to while away the time. If she saw anyone coming towards her in the mostly deserted hallways, she quickly stepped into shadows to avoid them. In this way, she managed to get to the East Tower undisturbed.

The hallway here was deathly quiet. She couldn't even hear the murmuring of lectures from behind closed doors as she had passing through the rest of the castle. She peeked into a few empty rooms as she walked. They didn't look conducive for a comfortable reading spot. Most of them were stacked with old desks and antiquated school equipment or dusty, large boxes of mysterious shapes. Under normal circumstances, she would have wanted to stop and investigate, but she was quickly running out of steam. She hoped she would find a place to sit soon, or she would be forced to go back to the dormitory for a rest.

'Stupid Leeching Elixir, stupid Voldemort, stupid magic,' she grumbled, as she began the ascent up the spiral staircase of the East Tower. She wished more than ever for her wand, if only because she was accustomed to having it when she was prowling about Hogwarts.

Stopping to catch her breath by a turret window, she finally spied what she had been looking for. An unlocked wooden door opened with a creak onto a tiny room. It looked almost like a guard's room, although she could only imagine what would need to be guarded in the tower. All that the room contained was a small fireplace, a threadbare armchair, and a large window. As Hermione walked into the room, the fireplace automatically flamed to life.

"Well, that's convenient," Hermione said aloud, glad for the warmth.

She made her way to the armchair and plopped down onto it, causing a great cloud of dust to puff into the air. Coughing and waving the dust away, she walked over to the window. She gazed at the expansive view of the rugged Scottish countryside beyond the lake and the forest. The gray sky somehow made the colors of the landscape more deep and pronounced.

Hermione hopped up onto the window ledge, which was large enough to sit upon. She looked down. This room was higher up than she had thought. At the base of the tower were the jagged rocks of the cliff which rose above the lake's waters. Curiosity satisfied, and the dust clouds settled, Hermione returned to the armchair, sitting down carefully this time. She opened the volume of Shakespeare, turned to Hamlet, which she had always meant to get around to reading.

The Common Room of Gryffindor Tower was bustling by late afternoon. Harry and Ron should have been doing their Defense Against the Dark Arts homework, but neither of them were in the mood. A game of Exploding Snap seemed much more relaxing. Ginny wasn't back from classes yet, and since boys were not allowed in the girls dormitory without an escort, they hadn't checked in on Hermione. Both had been relieved when Professor McGonagall had said she'd take care of what was happening.

As such, they weren't too surprised when they saw Professor McGonagall enter through the Fat Lady's portrait hole. "Good afternoon," she said, addressing the startled room. Usually their Head of House only came to the Common Room in matters of urgency or excessively loud noise. Apparently neither situation was the cause of her arrival, and the chatter of the room resumed as McGonagall went towards the stairs to the girls dormitory. Lavender heaved a sigh of relief that her duties as a Prefect were apparently not needed. When Professor McGonagall returned to the room with a worried frown, the room hushed again. Striding over to Harry and Ron, she said, "Where is Miss Granger?"

"She's not in her room?" asked Harry.

"Obviously not, Mr. Potter," she said.

"Ginny's not back yet, and Hermione only opens the door to her," said Ron.

"Lavender, go immediately and check the girls bathrooms. Check the Prefects, as well," McGonagall ordered. "Has anyone seen Miss Granger today?"

The rest of the students shook their heads no. Harry stared in bewilderment. Surely if Hermione was feeling well enough to leave her room, she would feel well enough to tell her best friends.

Ron said, "Maybe she's in the library."

Ginny walked into the room at that moment. She glanced about, registering the presence of Professor McGonagall and the faces of her peers. "What's wrong? Is it Hermione?"

"When was the last time you saw Miss Granger?" said Professor McGonagall.

"This morning, before class," replied Ginny, "I checked on her right after lunch, but she wasn't in her room. I didn't have time to check, but I figured she was in the bathroom."

Lavender hurried down the dormitory steps. "She wasn't anywhere in the dorms," she said, breathlessly.

"Do you think something's wrong, Professor?" asked Harry, concerned. It wasn't like Hermione to disappear on her own. But then again she hadn't been acting like herself for a few days.

"I'm sure there is a good explanation as to where Miss Granger has gone," she said soothingly. "I'm going to check a few places myself. I would ask you to stay in the dormitory, but since I know you won't, why don't you three go speak with Hagrid and take a look about the grounds. Perhaps Miss Granger needed some fresh air."

Ron, Harry, and Ginny headed out the portrait hole immediately. Professor McGonagall nodded to the rest of the children and left the room. Her living quarters were skillfully hidden in what seemed to be a dead end corridor past the Fat Lady's portrait. She transfigured the still life painting of a bowl of fruit into a door, unlocked the warding charms, and stepped inside.

While she doubted Hermione was in any kind of danger, she was considerably worried about her state of mind. The Hermione she knew would never do anything drastic - at least, not on her own - but the fact that her closest friends did not know her whereabouts sent up a warning flag. She waved her wand towards her hearth and commanded "Incendio!" She reached for the Floo powder.

First she checked with Madame Pince, who sourly informed her that Miss Granger had been in the library earlier that day, but was not there presently. Then she interrupted Madame Pomfrey once more that day and received another negative response. Well, she supposed it was a good thing that Hermione wasn't in the infirmary. Still, she needed to find her. Madame Valerian had promptly responded and wanted to meet with the child that evening. Minerva had never known Celeste Valerian to be dramatic or overblown, so she assumed she found Hermione's case worthy of haste.

She flung one more handful of Floo powder into the fire. "Severus? I need to speak with you."

Severus appeared in the fire looking put out. "What is it, Minerva? I'm very busy."

"Is Miss Granger with you?"

"What?" His face went a shade paler than his usual pallor. "Why? Is something wrong?"

"Madame Valerian wishes to speak with her tonight, and no one knows where she is," said Minerva, working hard to keep her voice calm.

"Shall I perform a Locating spell?" said Severus. If a Listener said she needed to speak with a troubled person, it usually meant there was concern about the person. Most appointments were scheduled less hurriedly.

"Why don't we both try one," said Minerva, "You know how difficult the shifting structure of Hogwarts makes any kind of Locating spell."

"I'll take a dose of Clarifying potion beforehand. Maybe that will help. I assume her friends are looking for her? And why, pray tell, haven't they been keeping a better eye on her?"

Minerva rolled her eyes. "They're looking for her on the grounds. Quickly now, stop finding blame and go do the spell. Floo me when you finish."

Hermione had read Hamlet, Henry the V, and the first half of The Merry Wives of Windsor before the "sirrahs", "thous", and "anons" began cluttering up her brain. She then turned to Wuthering Heights, but didn't make it far before she started getting restless. She used to think that having all the time in the world just to read would be a dream come true. Having all the time in the world was not all it was cracked up to be.

Throughout the afternoon she had been opening and closing the window because the automatic fire in the fireplace had no temperature control without a wand. It would blast like a furnace, and then Hermione would crank the rusty handle to open the window. The frigid air would seep in and cool the room considerably, which would then require Hermione to crank it close once more. She was starting to sweat again, so she stepped over to the window and wrestled it open.

The sight of the lake and the forest darkening with twilight was beautiful. Hermione sat on the ledge, feeling the brisk air cooling her heated body from the wide open pane. She'd have to go back soon. Ginny would have checked on her by now and discovered she was missing. She began going over the checklist of pros and cons of staying at Hogwarts again. Maybe she'd feel better about the wizarding world once she got her wand back. But if she couldn't use it, what was the point. She looked down at the forbidding rocks below her. A cold, unpleasant thought entered her mind. "A quick leap and you wouldn't have to worry about anything anymore. One must consider all the options."

Her eyes opened wide, and she spoke out loud. "Hermione Granger, stop being melodramatic. That is not an option." How could she even contemplate such a cowardly thing? Still the darkness at the base of tower held the possibility. If things were ever too bad...

"No. Stop that right now. To sleep perchance to dream - aye there's the rub. I'd go through the trouble of flinging myself out a window to find I landed myself in an even worse state. Let's think about the real alternatives." She remained at the window, deep in thought, cataloguing the things she would miss in the wizarding world. She knew deep down that she couldn't leave this world lightly.

She started when she heard the door behind her shriek open.

Severus had had some luck with the Locating spell. Minerva's spell indicated that Hermione was somewhere near the eastern section of the castle, but Severus's pinpointed her as being in the East Tower. He knew that part of the castle fairly well. He had a small greenhouse at the top of the tower where he grew some of the more rare and dangerous plants he needed for potions. Primula Sprout occasionally visited this secret garden, but no one else on staff besides Minerva and the Headmaster even knew about it. He had an idea she might be in the old Watcher's Room.

Sure enough, the door to the small room felt warm from the fire blazing inside. But he also felt a wisp of freezing air coming from under the door. Why would Hermione have the window open? Why would she even be in this deserted part of the castle? His heart pounding with a surge of adrenaline rich fear, he flung the door open and stepped inside.

He had no idea what had been running through Hermione's mind today, but he remembered how depressed she had seemed the night she woke up. When he saw her perched on the window ledge, his worst fears seemed realized. "What in Hades are you doing?" he screamed with a mix of fury and fright. "Get down from there this instant!"

"What? I'm n-not doing anything," Hermione stammered, shocked by his appearance and tone of voice. She made to get up from where she was sitting on her knees, but her right leg tangled in her robes throwing her off balance just as she tried to stand up. With a shriek, she felt herself fall towards the open window. "Oh my God!" she gasped as she lost her balance entirely and teetered off the ledge.

She saw green energy envelope her and felt it tug her into the room again. Faced with the actual prospect of careening to her death on the rocks below, any lingering fantasies of suicide as escape were banished completely from her thoughts. Shaking while she stood on the solid floor by the fireplace, she yelled, "Why did you scare me like that? I could have... Why did you do that?"

"Scared you? Weren't you planning to...?" Severus was incredulous. Surely she meant to jump. Why else would she have been here in this desolate part of the castle after days of brooding?

"No! I was sitting by the window enjoying the cool air. The fire makes the room too hot, and I have no wand to regulate it. Remember? What are you doing here anyway?"

"You've caused quite an uproar, Miss Granger," said Severus, slowly regaining his composure. "The entire staff and most of Gryffindor Tower has been looking for you this evening. Why did you choose this place to hide?"

Hermione almost said "I'm not hiding" but since that was a bald-faced lie, she decided not to say anything. She was still breathing hard, and her muscles were clenched with tension. She plopped down onto the armchair again, ignoring the dust cloud. "I needed a place to think, and I didn't want anyone around to bother me," she finally said.

Severus's heartbeat was slowing to a normal pace. He believed her. She looked too frightened to be lying about her intentions. He imagined if he had to do any serious thinking anywhere in Gryffindor Tower, he would be quick to seek a different environment as well. Sweet Circe, the child was shaking so hard. He knelt down beside her chair.

"And what were you thinking about?" he said in a gentle voice. Hermione looked at him. How could he be so nice one moment and so horrid the next? "About my life. And what I'm going to do with it. And whether... and whether I'm going to leave Hogwarts or not. It might be time for me to return to my world. The Muggle world."

Alarmed, Severus quickly replied, "You can't leave, Hermione. You are too gifted. Your talent is needed." He almost winced at his slip of calling her by her given name, but she didn't seem to notice.

"Oh please, you know that's not true anymore," she said. "Besides, what am I going to do in the wizarding world? I won't be much better than a Squib, and I've seen how well they fit in. If I cut my losses now, I can still make something of myself in the Muggle world."

"Or so you're convincing yourself. I won't waste my breath by telling you again that this latest injury will probably not cause any additional lasting damage. Nor will I repeat that highly skilled people, myself included, are working daily on finding an antidote to the Leeching Elixir. I will ask you, Miss Granger, what is it exactly that you wanted to do when you left Hogwarts? Before you were poisoned, what were your goals?"

Hermione didn't reply at once. With a yearning look on her face, she finally said, "I wanted to be an Auror. I wanted to be an Animagus and be one of the leading experts in Transfiguration in the world. Most of all, I wanted to battle Voldemort. I wanted to be respected as a powerful witch who was important in the struggle against evil."

"Well, that would look nice on a resume, Miss Granger," said Severus, "Although, besides the Auror bit, being Minerva McGonagall is a job that has already been taken. I am sorry, truly sorry, that these goals might not be reachable at the present. There are other things you could do in our world, things that you do well now. Is there nothing you enjoy learning here besides Transfiguration?"

"I do like Arithmancy," she said, thoughtfully, "And when you're not being horrid, I even enjoy Potions."

He ignored that last comment and continued. "You have such potential, Miss Granger. I would hate to see your intelligence and your drive wasted. As for battling Voldemort, I can't think of any reason you couldn't. The Ministry is filled with witches and wizards who never attained the magical ability you have even now, but they work against the Dark Lord just the same. Answer me this, would going back to the Muggle world be the easiest choice for you? Or would it be the right choice?"

Hermione scowled. "Does anyone besides the Headmaster get quoted in the wizarding world?"

Severus tried another approach. "In the Muggle world, when a person loses sight or hearing or the use of the limb, what happens?"

Hermione knew instantly where he was going with this query. "They find their other senses or muscles compensate. They have to make accommodations, but many go on to lead a normal life."

"Why should it be any different for you?" He paused for a moment. "The reason I was looking for you is that you've been scheduled to meet with a Listener, which I believe is, in Muggle terms, a psychologist or a counselor. She wants to speak with you right away. I must apologize to you once more, Miss Granger. You should have met with her before now. I was very callous to assume you would do well with only extra help in your course work. I never have been good with helping people in need."

"You've helped me a great deal, Sir. What's this person's name?" said Hermione cautiously.

"Madame Celeste Valerian. She is highly respected and one of the best in her field. We should make our way back to civilization, Miss Granger. She'll be waiting for you." He stood and opened the door for her.

As they walked down the spiral stairs, Hermione glanced at Professor Snape. "Professor, I couldn't help notice you called me Hermione."

"I beg your pardon, Miss Granger. That was an improper slip into familiarity."

Hermione laughed. "You know, Sir, every other teacher calls me Hermione when in private. I dare say it's not that improper. Do just call me Hermione."

"Perhaps, I shall, in time," Severus said with a deferential nod. "

So does everyone think I've gone mental, then, what with bringing in a Listener?" said Hermione.

"Not at all. We've simply realized we can't give you all you need to overcome what you face."

"Hmm. If you say so. If she'll help me decide what I should do, then I shall be grateful."

They walked the rest of the way in silence. Once they reached the main floor, Severus guided Hermione to an antechamber near the Great Hall.

Professor McGonagall was waiting with a stunning woman dressed in silk robes. Her skin was the color of mahogany with warm brown eyes. Her black hair was done in plaits which were twisted atop her head in an intricate design. The smile on her face made Hermione feel so comfortable and peaceful that she wanted nothing more than to sit down and tell this woman everything that troubled her. She knew this was Madame Valerian before they were introduced.

As the months went by, Hermione gradually recovered, both mentally and physically. Between her independent studies with Professor McGonagall and Professor Flitwick and her continued sessions with Professor Snape, Hermione progressed in her abilities, although little by little she came to terms with the fact she might not ever regain her full powers. If it weren't for Madame Valerian's weekly wisdom and guidance in the grieving process, Hermione knew she would never have gotten as far as she had.

She found that her friendships with Harry and Ron became stronger once she felt better about herself. She was also pleased to discover that Ginny was becoming a closer friend than ever before. She had always liked the younger girl, and now she found it nice to have a female friend.

Professor Snape had started instructing Hermione on the brewing of her Magnifying potion, as well as other advanced Potion work, by the Easter holiday break. He found her brilliance breathtaking. She could master potions that even he had found difficult at her age. She delighted in his approval, although she never quite let him know how much.

By the end of term, Hermione received a summons to Dumbledore's office. She figured decisions were needed to be made regarding her seventh year. When she entered, she saw that Professor Snape and Professor McGonagall were already in attendance.

"Good afternoon, Hermione," said Dumbledore. "How are you feeling, my dear?"

"Well, Sir. I'm finding myself stronger every day."

"Excellent. That is very good news to hear," he said, offering her a cup of tea. "Hermione, we called you here to discuss some matters concerning your last year at Hogwarts."

Hermione nodded her head, chancing a quick look at the serious faces surrounding her. Surely they weren't going to leave her back a year. She gulped and felt her pulse quicken.

"You have made extraordinary progress in your studies," said Professor McGonagall, "especially considering what you've been through. I am concerned, however, that it would be a mistake to allow you to take Advanced Transfiguration next year, even as an independent study. I would propose instead that you continue your study with me, focusing on N.E.W.T. requirements and life skill transfiguration."

"You mean Remedial Transfiguration?" said Hermione sadly. "Neville told me he was advised to take the class as well."

"No, Miss Granger, not exactly," said Professor McGonagall. "We would advance with your abilities, and we needn't stick to the curriculum of the remedial class. Your case is unique, and I would keep your training likewise."

"Professor Flitwick seems to think you would do fine in the regular Charms class, but he does not recommend the advanced course either," said Dumbledore gently. "Hermione, I know that this is a blow, but we only have your welfare in our minds when we make these decisions."

"I understand, Sir," said Hermione downcast. "It is disappointing, but I'm learning how to better cope with disappointment these days."

"On the other hand, Professor Figg feels you could take Advanced Defense Against the Dark Arts with perhaps some minor accommodations," continued Dumbledore. "Advanced Arithmancy should pose no difficulty, and Professor Snape is certain that you will not only excel in Advanced Potions, but you will need greater challenges in that area. Severus?"

"Occasionally, when the need is present, classes will be offered that are not usually available on a year by year basis. I have decided to offer a class called The Application of Ancient Texts in Potions Brewing. It will be an intensive course which will involve the non-magical translation of texts in a variety of languages, from Ancient Latin to Sanskrit. Be assured, Miss Granger, this class will take a great deal of effort and time, and I will, as usual, not give any student preferential treatment."

"It sounds wonderful, Sir," said Hermione. "Do you have a text I could start studying? Or suggestions on languages to begin learning?"

"Well, I take that is a yes to the course, then, Miss Granger," said Dumbledore, his eyes twinkling. Professor McGonagall looked proud, and Professor Snape looked smug. Or maybe that was just how he looked happy, thought Hermione.

"One more thing, Miss Granger," said Dumbledore, reaching for a roll of parchment on his desk. "Professor Snape came to me some time ago with concerns about your summer holidays. He was worried that going without practicing magic for an extended time might have a detrimental effect when you started again. This is a special dispensation from the Ministry of Magic that allows you to practice magic over the holidays. The only provision is that no Muggle, not even your parents, may see or be told about your magic. Do you think you can abide by that one rule?"

"Of course, Sir, I shall keep to the privacy of my room. This is most wonderful news." Hermione was beaming. A whole summer of legal magic lay before her.

"However no brewing of Magnifying potions, Miss Granger," said Severus wryly, "You aren't approved for that by the Ministry yet." "I promise, though I reckon that should be my next achievement," she said, seriously.

Severus smiled. He was intensely proud of Hermione, but he didn't feel comfortable in blurting such a personal thing like that out. Next year would be a grand year. Translation of ancient texts was a passion of his, and he had the feeling she would take to it as well as she did Arithmancy and Potions.

"Unless you have any questions, that is all we needed to discuss," said Professor McGonagall fondly. "I must say Hermione, we are all very proud of you. You are a credit to Hogwarts, and indeed, to the wizarding world. Have a lovely summer."

"I will. Thank you very much." Hermione picked up her parchment, smiled widely one last time, and made her way out.

"She is an amazing young woman," said Minerva.

"Quite," said Dumbledore, "She will play an important role in the years to come."

Severus said nothing. He realized how accustomed he'd grown to Hermione's presence in his life. How strange to find he would actually miss a student over the holidays. He sipped his tea and wished Hermione a pain-free, splendid holiday.

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