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A Matter of Honor Book 1: The Honors Project Chapter 6: The Proposal The last three days of finals went by in a flash, and they were left with blue skies and a free week before their exam results were posted. After several hours in the library and a consultation with Snape at the end of their meeting (which had gone rather well, she thought, though they'd only had twenty minutes in between her exams), Hermione had finally picked out the two volumes she wanted to take home with her. Snape had assured her that extensive citations were not necessary for the descriptive part of her proposal, but she was still a little panicked at the thought of writing without the aid of the library. "You'll still have all of these books to help you, Hermione," Ron offered, gesturing at her textbooks. "Besides, your proposal will be the best one Snape's ever seen, library or no library." Now that they had spoken their minds and cleared the air ("and broken up," Harry thought, still a bit disappointed by it), their friendship had become easy again--though Ron was clearly working hard not to say anything derogatory about her project or Snape, so as to make up for his cruel remarks previously. ("Working a little too hard," Harry thought, and not for the first time.) "I know, but it's just that there are so many books I didn't even get a chance to look at, much less take notes from," Hermione lamented. "Oh, woe is me," Ron mimicked her, getting a laugh out of Harry, "no library for the whole summer! Whatever will I do! I simply must read every single book so dear Professor Snape will pass my proposal!" His eyes widened as he realized he might have crossed a line, but Hermione was looking at him with only her usual frustrated expression. Harry could have sworn that she was trying to stifle a smile. "Boys!" she said, rolling her eyes. "Let me guess. You're just harassing me so that I'll leave off reading and come outside with you." Harry and Ron smiled. "Fine," she agreed. "I had promised to visit Hagrid once finals were done anyway." The trio left Gryffindor tower, and Harry smiled as he saw Hermione roll her eyes again at something Ron had said, happy that they were all friends again.
The end of the semester had been another triumph for Gryffindor. Hermione had made the highest marks in all of her subjects, and Harry's Quidditch win against Slytherin had guaranteed that they won the House Cup for the sixth year running. Amazingly enough, there had been no "harrowing event" to close out the year--Ron couldn't believe that somebody hadn't at least kidnapped Neville's toad or threatened to kill them all with Fred and George's new invention: Laughing Levitation Lozenges. By the middle of the summer, Hermione was knee-deep in parchment. She'd worked on her proposal every day, except for the weekend her parents made her go with them to visit her mom's sister's family. She'd returned from the vacation only to shut herself up in her room for two days straight--"to make up the time," she'd explained to her mother. She was completely fascinated with the possibilities of her subject matter, and had to keep reminding herself of Snape's instructions ("save something for the actual project, Miss Granger") to concentrate on fashioning an efficient, well-written proposal--a limit of twenty-five feet of parchment--and not diving into the project directly. "It might not be accepted, after all," she told herself. But she didn't believe it for a minute. She'd sat, stunned, for a full five minutes when she'd first realized that she believed--absolutely, positively believed--that Snape was going to pass her proposal. That in his mind, he already had. The brief meeting she'd had with him during finals week really had gone well, and as she thought back over the details, she couldn't remember a single sarcastic remark. Well, all right, one or two, but neither was aimed at her in quite the cruel way she was used to. It was almost as though he was teasing her, rather than cutting her down…but that couldn't be right. This was, as Ron would certainly have reminded her, Snape, after all. Snape didn't like anybody, certainly not a seventh-year Gryffindor witch who'd annoyed him in every class she'd ever taken from him. But something had changed. Not in class--during the final, he had scowled at her quite menacingly across the room when she'd tried to whisper encouragement to Neville as they both bent down to pick up a vial of asphodel he'd dropped on the floor. Outside of class, though--both in their meeting and at one point when he'd nodded a perfunctory greeting to her as they passed each other in the hallway--something had changed, if only slightly. She shook her head, focusing her thoughts again. She'd have the whole year to try to figure out Snape, after all. It was a scary thought…but not as scary as she might have thought before.
It was always nice to receive an owl from Harry and Ron. Harry wrote most of the time, with Ron adding in bits here and there. Harry was staying the whole summer with the Weasleys. For some reason, Dumbledore had agreed. Hermione wondered if it had anything to do with her. This time, the letter arrived well after dark, borne by Percy's owl, and it took Hermione a few minutes to realize that there was something tapping at her window, wanting to come in. She had fallen asleep at her desk while putting the finishing touches on her proposal. Finally, Crookshanks jumped to the desktop, put both paws on her face, and meow-ed, waking her up enough to hear the beat of owl wings against the glass. Dear Hermione, the letter read, once she'd managed to find the owl a tidbit and rub the sleep out of her eyes, Things are great here, wish you could come stay. Bill and Charlie are in to visit, and we've been having great fun practicing Quidditch. "Great fun for you maybe," she thought with a smirk. But Bill was rather cute…she turned back to the letter, thinking that would be a fine fix, if she wound up dating Ron's brother. Mrs. Weasley wants to know if you want to head up to London with us to shop for school. We're off the day after tomorrow to beat the rush. She glanced at the calendar: Friday, August 15th. The day proposals were due; she'd planned to send it on Thursday so it would be sure to arrive in time. She smiled, certain that Harry was counting on her punctuality. If you've got your proposal done, we hope you'll come--I'll buy you a butterbeer to celebrate! Love, Harry. P.S. Ron says "please come" too. Hermione smiled. She reached for a piece of parchment and wrote out a quick note, saying she'd meet them in Diagon Alley around ten o'clock that morning. Afterwards, she looked at her proposal--twenty-five feet of parchment, almost exactly. Exactly, it was twenty-four feet, eleven inches. She hadn't wanted to risk running over. She could just see the look on Snape's face; she knew he'd measure. She unrolled it, wished she could have brought at least one more library book home with her, then re-rolled and sealed it with wax. It was done. It was the best she could do, and she was proud of it. She placed it in a mailing tube for safety--made of a lightweight metal alloy and magically sealed--then took out another sheet of parchment. After thinking for a long moment, she wrote quickly:
She looked back over the note, then decided to recopy it, changing the middle phrase to read "your comments on and criticism of it…"--she didn't want to encourage him to criticize her more generally if she could help it--and leaving off the last sentence. She also didn't want to seem like she was too pretentious, or as though she were brown-nosing in order to affect his decision--even if she did believe he already planned to accept the proposal. She didn't think he'd appreciate it. Adding the letter to the tube, she set it aside to wait for tomorrow; she'd arranged for a Hogwarts owl to retrieve it. Percy's owl had finished its snack, and she tied her note to Harry and Ron on its leg. She stroked its head and said, "You could, of course, wait until morning to go, if you're tired." The owl hooted softly, nipped congenially at her fingers, and turned to the window. "All right then. See you later," she said, opening the window and watching the owl fly out into the night sky. She sighed and returned to bed.
As she walked along Diagon Alley with Ron and Harry, all three carrying packages, Hermione wasn't paying close attention, as the boys' talk had turned to Quidditch. She couldn't help wondering if her proposal had arrived safely. "C'mon, Hermione, lighten up," Harry said. "If your proposal hadn't arrived, at least six of our professors would have owled you to find out where it was." Hermione smiled, reassured. "You're right. Look, can we stop for lunch? I could stand to put these packages down for a bit." They chose sidewalk seats at the ice cream shop ("They also have sandwiches," Hermione noted as Ron immediately turned to the dessert section of the menu), and had just placed their orders when a large, black owl swooped down to rest on the back of the empty seat at their table. "That is one mean looking owl," Ron observed. "Wonder who sent it?" Hermione reached over to untie the envelope from the owl's leg. It flew off before she could offer it anything. The envelope was sealed with a dark green wax, embossed with the seal of Slytherin House. "Oh good grief, you mean he's sending you mail now?" Ron complained. Hermione was too surprised to answer. She broke the seal and opened the letter. After glancing over it, she read it aloud:
"You can almost hear the smirk," Harry said. Ron looked over her shoulder, "Oh, look, he's signed his first name. Should we be worried?" He grinned at Hermione. She placed the letter inside one of her boxes and didn't answer. When Ron got a nervous look on his face, however, she smiled a mischievous grin of her own. "I don't know, Ron," she raised an eyebrow at him, "Should you be worried?" Ron didn't have an answer. Harry tried in vain not to smile.
Hermione hadn't said two words to them on the train. She had returned home after their shopping expedition; her mother and father had realized that this would be her last summer at home ("while at Hogwarts," she had reminded them; she would be there next summer as usual), and they wanted to spend as much time with her as possible. Hermione was so anxious over the announcements that would be made at the Sorting Feast that she had barely spoken to them for those two weeks. Her mother had muttered, "You're just no good at good-byes," as Hermione left them to enter Platform 9 ¾, distracted to the point that she had almost gone through the barrier without saying a word. She had turned, tears in her eyes, and hugged her mother, hard. "I'm sorry mum. I didn't mean it. I love you." Hugging her father, then, while her mother dug in her purse for a handkerchief, he had said, "We know, dear. And good luck. Write when you've heard the news. We know it'll be good." She had rejoined Harry and Ron, who were both pretending that they hadn't heard anything, and the three had walked through the barricade. Now that they were nearing Hogsmeade, Hermione looked like she was going to come out of her seat. Or her skin. The news concerning Head Boy and Girl, as well as the accepted honors project proposals, would come at the end of the banquet after the first years were Sorted. Harry hoped that Hermione could walk to the castle on her own; he didn't expect that she'd want to be levitated in by Madam Pomfrey. Though perhaps it wouldn't be a bad idea to sedate her…. Hermione managed under her own steam, and they took their seats. Harry glanced up at the head table, where the professors were already seated--all except for Professor McGonagall, who was greeting the first years as they arrived by boat with Hagrid, down below. He couldn't catch Remus's eye, but Professor Sprout smiled at him and he waved in response before Snape raised an eyebrow in his direction. Harry quickly turned back to the table.
Hermione managed to eat something, and Harry refrained from teasing her as she stared blankly at Ron and Seamus, who were already discussing Quidditch. He felt almost as nervous as she did, he thought. In her mind, Hermione was running over the options over and over. If Snape didn't approve her project ("but he had," she told herself), she knew that Professor Flitwick would gladly do an independent study with her in Charms, and she could then do Transfiguration in the spring with McGonagall. ("He approved it; I know he did.") She hadn't risked looking up towards the head table once; she knew that none of her professors ("least of all Snape," she thought) would give anything away, and she couldn't stand to see them and know that they knew…they knew, and she didn't…wouldn't for another half-hour, at least. By the time the Sorting began, Hermione looked as though she was going to be sick. As the first new Gryffindor joined the table, Ron heard Colin Creevey, seated down the row a bit, say, "Don't mind her; she's just nervous about being named Head Girl." Ron reached across the table and took Hermione's hand; she started, as if she hadn't realized he was still there. "It'll be all right, Hermione. Don't worry." She smiled and squeezed his hand, then forced herself to applaud as the next first year was Sorted.
By the time Dumbledore rose to make his announcements ("Let me guess," said Ron, "we shouldn't go into the Forbidden Forest?"), Hermione seemed calmer, and Harry was a nervous wreck. "Harry, did you hear me?" Ron poked him in the arm. "I heard you. Now be quiet; we're getting to it…" he leaned out into the aisle to get a better view, casting a quick glance at Hermione to make sure she wasn't going to fall out of her seat. She seemed all right. "Now, there are only two more announcements, and then you'll all be free to return to your common rooms and greet your new housemates properly." Ron noticed that Hermione shifted, but her expression didn't change; her eyes were glued to Dumbledore. "First, I am pleased to announce this year's Head Boy and Head Girl: Ralph Innes, of Ravenclaw…" The Ravenclaw table exploded with cheers, and the rest of the hall (except for Slytherin, who only politely--if you could call it politely--clapped) joined in; Ralph was the most popular Prefect by far, and a Chaser for the Ravenclaw Quidditch team. Dumbledore waited for the noise to die down, and then finished, "…and Hermione Granger, of Gryffindor." The noise was no less for Hermione; while she might not have the popular following of Quidditch fans, Gryffindor House was not one to skimp when it came to celebrating the success of one of their own. "Yes, yes, congratulations Mr. Innes, Miss Granger." Hermione managed a smile as Dumbledore nodded in her direction, and Harry glanced at Remus in time to see him grin at Professor McGonagall. A good sign. He was about to lean across and tell Hermione when Dumbledore continued. "And, finally, this year the faculty is very pleased to announce that we have not one, but two students who will be completing honors projects this year. Their proposals were outstanding, and the supervising professors tell me that we should expect great things from both students." Ron whispered to Harry, "I heard McGonagall tell Sprout at the end of last year that they were expecting five proposals." Harry nodded, suddenly nervous. He watched Hermione's face as Dumbledore finally announced, "Oddly enough, these names will seem quite familiar to all of you. I assure you, this is not a case of déjà vu. Our honors students for this year are Mr. Ralph Innes, who will be working with Professor Lupin on a Defense Against the Dark Arts project, and Miss Hermione Granger, who will be working with Professor Snape on the subject of Potions." If the first years had thought the noise was loud before, it was nothing compared to this. Ron smiled broadly, Harry couldn't help but let out a loud whoop, and the entire Gryffindor table was on its feet. As the melee died down, Ron cast a glance around the room. "The Slytherins don't look at all happy about the news, do they? Guess they realize they're going to have to share their Potions Master with a Gryffindor." Harry nodded in agreement, but couldn't take his eyes off Hermione. She was luminous, smiling and shaking hands, and when he saw her look up towards the head table and give a little smile, he thought he finally understood what Ron meant when he'd said sometime early in their fifth year, "She's just…just beautiful, Harry. Can't you see it?" He turned to look at Remus, thinking that he was the recipient of the smile, but saw him patting Madam Hooch on the shoulder as they both leaned over to congratulate Professors McGonagall and Flitwick. He was just in time to see Snape, as somber-faced as ever, nod in their direction. Surprised, he turned back to Hermione, who had lowered her eyes and was blushing as Ginny Weasley arrived at her side and hugged her. "I knew she could do it," Ron said, still grinning. "I bloody well knew it."
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