Chapters 31-40

All Sorted!

He woke drenched in sweat, his right hand curled painfully around his left forearm. For a while he lay motionless in the darkness. Then he reached for his wand and cast a quick Lumos.

Snape inhaled deeply. Then he forced himself to look. Nothing. Just faded black lines. Voldemort was gone. He would not come back. It was just a tattoo now, not a Mark.

He stared at the ribbed vault of the ceiling. His subconscious had a plethora of nightmares to draw from. Why need it be this one? He knew that dream so well. For more than nine years it had tortured him in the past—before it had become reality once more.

One thing was sure: he wouldn’t endure this nightmare for three years. The dream had to go. And if other options failed, he would move up his plans. Damn. He would have enjoyed three peaceful years. He would have liked to provide Hermione Granger with the apprenticeship the bright young witch deserved. He frowned. ‘Like’ was the wrong word; he did not ‘like’ having that Gryffindor as his apprentice. She was merely useful.

But for some reason no better term would come to him.

oooOooo

‘So they’ll put an old hat on Alina and it will look into her mind and then it will talk and tell everyone what her House is?’

Hermione smiled. ‘I know that sounds weird, but yes, that’s it.’

‘Hmm.’ Lois looked frankly dubious. ‘Tell me about the Houses again.’

‘Well, there are four. Gryffindor—that was my House—Hufflepuff, Ravenclaw and Slytherin. Each House has a noble history, and the members of each House are supposed to have certain traits of character and talents. Hufflepuffs are patient and loyal, Ravenclaws are smart and disciplined, Gryffindors are brave and honest and Slytherins are powerful and cunning. Of course that’s a bit of rubbish, really. There are brave Slytherins and patient Ravenclaws.

‘Your House is like a home away from home, almost like a second family.’

‘And a bit of competition increases that feeling,’ Lois suggested. ‘It knits the community closer together.’

Hermione nodded. ‘Yes, I guess it does.’

‘Your Professor Snape, what was his House?’

‘Slytherin.’ Hermione sighed.

‘Is that bad?’

Hermione contemplated the question for a moment. Then she shook her head, remembering what Healer Mugwort had told her.

‘No,’ she replied. ‘Only some of my friends haven’t quite grown beyond the stage of inter-house rivalry yet. They don’t really understand why I should want to be his apprentice.’

‘Or how you’d come to care about him?’

‘What?!’

‘Hermione, I am not blind!’

oooOooo

Hermione never dreamed the same nightmare twice. Her subconscious was much more creative than her waking mind. Endless variations of horror crept into her slumber almost every night.

She didn’t dare to use Dreamless Sleep often. No more than once a month, when she had to be extra-alert in the morning—for example when a double brewing session featured Gryffindors and Slytherins in the same dungeon.

The other nights Hermione kept a comforting witchlight in a glass on her nightstand and tried out various Muggle herbal remedies.

Awake once more, she mentally went over the ingredients of the calming tea she had brewed that evening: aniseed, balm, calendula, caraway, fennel, passion flowers, peppermint, peels of rose hips, rosemary, valerian roots.

Drawing on what she had memorized from Culpeper’s herbal and a fat Muggle tome about homeopathy, Hermione tried to recall everything she knew about each ingredient. Professor Snape had stated clearly that she would only be allowed near a cauldron for experimental purposes again when she knew every little detail about every ingredient, be it Muggle or magical.

… Valerian.…different active compounds, including essential oils…Sedating properties that may bind to receptors in the brain that regulate central nervous system…Magical usage: sleeping potions, love potions, purifying philtres…protection charms…Linked with Mercury…more potent when Mercury is in conjunction with the moon…Corresponding element: water…

Hermione yawned, her eyelids growing heavy once more. She smirked wearily. So those herbs could have an effect on her, after all.

oooOooo

The Sorting Hat ended its song and its wrinkled countenance seemed to scrutinize the trembling First Years carefully. Then Professor Weasley began to call the names of the new students so they could be sorted and Professor Sprout placed the old hat on each little head.

Hermione was staring at the row of children in front of the High Table’s dais.

They were so…small. So very, very young.

She stared at their happy round cheeks and their perky snub noses and remembered how scared she’d been. She’d been utterly convinced that the Sorting Hat would send her home, that it would explain how everything was a horrible mistake, that she, Hermione Granger, daughter of dentists and Muggles, could not possibly be special enough, magical enough, to stay at Hogwarts.

And now here she was, not a student anymore, but an apprentice and assistant teacher.

oooOooo

‘Alina Petrel.’

Hermione leant forwards so she could watch as Alina skipped onto the dais, chocolate-coloured hair flying, dark eyes glittering.

Alina looked very much like her friendly, calm mother. And she was a kind girl, Hermione knew that. But Alina was also a little imp. Mischief sparkled in her eyes and she appeared to positively brim with energy.

Alina sat down. Her small face disappeared under the flap.

Respectful silence filled the hall.

Lengthened.

Alina kicked her feet, completely unconcerned.

‘Well, well,’ the Sorting Hat laughed at last. ‘Who would have thought? Slytherin House, beware! Here’s one for you who will be a real challenge!’

Hermione clapped like mad. ‘I wish Lois could have been here to see that!’

But Professor Snape groaned.

‘There,’ he muttered. ‘Didn’t I tell you about the law of every other class having an equivalent to the Weasley twins? Here’s the next generation, no doubt about that. And in Slytherin house, too. Whatever did I do to deserve this?’