A Matter of Honor
by Amy McWilliams (McAmy)

Book 3: Love and Honor

Chapter 1: Arrival at Hogwarts

Hermione Granger Apparated onto the platform at Hogsmeade. It seemed appropriate; this was where she arrived her first year of school, getting off the Hogwarts Express with Ron and Harry and the others. Behind her lay the wizarding town itself, almost fully recovered from the damage it had suffered that winter; down that way was the path to the boats that carried the first years across the lake for their first view of the castle; this way was the road the coaches took up to the front gates.

She remembered as though it were yesterday the first time that she had seen Hogwarts--something from a storybook, twinkling against the night. It had been like coming home--as though a part of her had been missing, and she hadn't even known it. Here she had met the most important people in her life--her two best friends, the professors that helped her channel her energy and focus her intellect, the mentors who showed her the life she wanted.

The life she had chosen. Hermione Granger had come back to Hogwarts.

She would be teaching Arithmancy; her own teacher, Professor Vector, was leaving the school to work at the Ministry offices in London full time. All of her other professors remained. It would be familiar, and yet completely different at the same time. She was no longer their student, and so much had happened in the two years that she had been at Mywoods University…

A booming voice interrupted her reverie. "There ya are, 'Mione! I meant teh be 'ere sooner, but I had teh take care of somethin' for Dumbledore."

Hermione beamed, then ran to Hagrid and hugged him. "Oh, Hagrid, it's so good to see you!" Letting go, she smiled up at him.

He had a tear in his eye, and wiped it away as he said, "I 'member the first time you an' 'arry an' Ron got 'ere. Jus' like ol' times, it is…almost."

She patted his arm and changed the subject. Her own emotions would be barely under the surface for a while, and she didn't want to deal with a weeping Hagrid just then. "Hagrid, you didn't have to come; I could have managed on my own."

"Nonsense!" he bellowed. "'Course I had teh. The new teacher shouldn't have teh carry her own bags!" She smiled.

As Hagrid gathered her things and Hermione picked up Crookshanks's cage, someone said her name from the opposite end of the platform.

She turned to see Harry and Sirius approaching. She sat Crookshanks back down (he gave a meow of protest) and went to greet them.

As she hugged Harry, Hagrid said to Sirius, "Yeh know, it really is just like ol' times, after all…" He wiped away another tear as Sirius patted him on the back.

It was late July, and Harry had come down from Glasgow, where he was training to be an Auror, to be there when Hermione arrived. He could only stay the night before he had to get back, and Hermione happily agreed to come to the house he shared with Sirius for dinner.

She and Hagrid walked up to the castle together, and Hagrid refused to let her levitate her bags ("I'm the one who's teh be worryin' over you," he insisted). When they arrived in the entry hall, Hermione was a little disappointed to see that nobody was there to greet her.

"I 'spect they'll be in the staff room," Hagrid noted, "the few of 'em who stayed the summer. They gen'rally wind up there this time of the afternoon." She nodded. "Tell yeh what. Let's leave your stuff here, for the House-Elves to take up, and we'll go and find 'em."

She agreed, and they headed up to the staff room. As they reached the corridor, Hermione could tell that Hagrid was trying his best not to smile. "Hagrid, what's going on?"

"Nothin', nothin' 'tall…" he replied, giving her an innocent look. Hermione decided not to press him.

Hagrid opened the staff room door for her. At first she didn't see anybody there, but as she entered, there was a POOF and Professor Flitwick removed his Veiling Charm to reveal himself and Professors McGonagall, Dumbledore, Lupin, and Sprout. Madam Hooch was there as well, and Madam Pomfrey. "Surprise!" they all cheered. As she greeted them all, she heard Dumbledore say to Lupin, "I've always wanted to do that!" And when Minerva McGonagall couldn't resist giving her a hug, over her shoulder Hermione saw Snape, seated calmly behind them in a chair by the fire, one eyebrow raised and a smile tugging at his lips. He nodded, and she raised her hand to wave at him, smiling back.

"I've put you in rooms in Gryffindor Tower," Minerva said as she led the way. "Professor Vector's quarters were in Ravenclaw, but I thought you might prefer to be in a more familiar section of the castle." Something in Hermione's face made her stop. "If you'd rather, I can of course have your things moved…"

"No, Hermione interrupted, "this will be fine. It's just a little strange, is all."

Minerva smiled as they started walking again. "I understand completely. Now, you'll be just down the way from me, so should you need anything, you know where to find me."

The entrance to Hermione's rooms was through a large painting of a cottage by the sea. The waves crashed softly against the rocky shore, and the breeze blew the grey clouds across the sky.

"The painting has no occupant, but occasionally the others will come to visit," explained Minerva. "You may, of course, reset the Locking Charm to whatever password you like. Currently, it's set for 'ginger root'--I think that's in honor of Crookshanks, in a roundabout sort of way."

The painting was large enough, and low enough to the ground (above it hung a still life of flowers and fruit, though the flies from the nearby farm scene buzzed through it regularly, and it was anything but still), that Hermione could step easily into her new sitting room. There was a small table with two chairs to the left of the door, but the room was dominated by the fireplace against the opposite wall. It was flanked by a large window on the left, and on the right--starting near the fireplace and running along the entire right wall--bookcases. There was a desk underneath the window, and the door to the bedroom was centered on the left wall. Before the fireplace was a large rug and two comfortable looking wing chairs on either side of a small table, one in a dark navy with small cream-colored checks, and one in forest green and cream stripes with a matching ottoman.

"We couldn't find two to match, but feel free to change one to match the other, or change them both if you like," McGonagall noted.

But Hermione was enchanted. "Oh, Minerva, it's wonderful!"

"I'm glad you like it, dear," McGonagall smiled. "Now come, see the other room."

They passed through the open door into the bedroom. It was slightly smaller than the front room, with a double, four-poster bed in the center of the room made up with a moss green duvet and matching drapes--Crookshanks was already sitting in the middle of it, basking in the sunlight that streamed through the window.

"Chest of drawers, closet there, another small bookcase, lavatory over there…" Minerva pointed to things as she named them. "The desk in the front room isn't very large, so you might want to move it in here under this window and have a bigger one brought in," she noted. "Though you may prefer to do most of your work in your office. It should be ready for you tomorrow morning."

"Yes, that might be a good idea…but it's perfect. Really it is."

McGonagall beamed. "I see that they've brought all of your things up already, so I'll let you have the rest of the afternoon to get unpacked." Hermione walked with her to the portrait hole. "Now, you're having dinner with Harry and Mr. Black in Hogsmeade, correct?"

"Yes."

"Then we won't expect you at dinner. But do tell Harry that he should walk you back to the castle and say hello, won't you?"

Hermione nodded. "I'll tell him," she replied.

With most of her things unpacked, Hermione decided that there was time to make one stop before she headed to dinner with Sirius and Harry.

As reached the dungeons, she felt her face flush. She had only exchanged one or two letters with Snape since their discussion of poetry, and she still didn't know quite what to make of the fact that he had been so open with her.

She also couldn't help thinking of the last time she had visited him in the dungeons--the feel of his cheek against hers. While at the time she had been surprised not to feel awkward, she felt awkward now, and paused for a moment to catch her breath. For so long she had told herself that he was her teacher, that they were colleagues, that…any number of excuses not to feel what she was feeling. This was, after all, Snape--the sarcastic, mean spirited, by all accounts unattractive teacher whom they'd once suspected of wanting Harry dead. After all the time they'd spent together, however, she had decided that it would be nice to count him as a friend. When returning to Hogwarts became a reality, she realized that he was not her teacher anymore--realized what that could mean. Though she remained wary of the word "love," she had to admit that she cared about him a great deal.

Of course, she told herself repeatedly, Snape would never feel the same way, so she needed to act normally. Gods, what would he do if he ever found out…

All of which made her stomach flutter as she knocked on the classroom door.

"Enter." Snape's voice had a hard edge to it, but this time she knew better than to be scared. She opened the door, smiling, and was greeted with his smile in return. "Well, Miss Granger--or should I say, Professor Granger?" he raised an eyebrow, and she smiled more broadly.

"Yes, I think 'Professor Granger' would be appropriate." She couldn't believe that she was teasing him. But he smiled again.

"I assume that Minerva has you all settled in by now?" he asked, turning back to his work.

"Yes," she answered, "I've almost finished unpacking." She had compiled a mental list of the questions she could ask, the comments she could make about work or her reading or the upcoming term, but none of those subjects seemed to fit this conversation.

He didn't seem to notice her pause as he poured another vial of liquid into the cauldron. "I wanted to thank you, Professor," his lips twitched as he emphasized the word, "for the poem you sent me in the spring." Now she really didn't know what to say. "It was, as you said, too optimistic by half, but it did convince me to re-read some Tennyson, which I have been enjoying."

"I'm glad," she said, a little lamely. Automatically she reached to hand him the container of fish scales she could see he needed; he took it as though she had never been gone. She decided to ask her real question. "Since you've had time to read Tennyson, does that mean you've had less…outside work…than you did before?"

He shot her a glance, but there was no cruelty in it. "I am still…doing work outside the school. But you are right; there is less of it now." He paused, looking her in the eye. "I will not lie to you, Miss Granger, though there are things I cannot--will not--tell you about my work. I am still in danger, so this topic of conversation requires the greatest amount of discretion."

She nodded, waiting for him to continue.

"Just before Voldemort was defeated, it became clear that he no longer trusted me. I assumed that I would be…taken care of. With his death, the immediate threat on my life was gone. I chose to continue my work…and so the danger remains. This time, however, I feel that it is more my choice than my fault that has led to it. If there is a difference.

"Dumbledore worries about me, as do some of the others. I'm sure Minerva has told you. And I have been…more reserved, more withdrawn, than usual since the start of the year, I admit, though I have gradually felt more at ease with the new…situation. My thoughts, as I believe I wrote to you, have been distracted. And because I have moved into such uncharted territory, I must depend solely on myself--more than ever before."

Hermione sat in stunned silence. She had not expected him to answer so fully.

Her surprise must have registered on her face, because Snape added, "I know that it is…unusual…for me to speak so frankly on this subject with you. But now that you are a member of the faculty, a situation might arise where it would be helpful for you to know some of what is going on. My work is not a secret--not completely. I assumed that Professor Lupin would have told you something of it already."

"He did," she admitted. "No details, and nothing much, really. I think he told me enough so that I…wouldn't worry quite so much." Another twitch of his lip. "Professor Snape?"

"Yes?"

"If there's…anything I can do to help…" Another sharp glance. "I don't mean…that is, what I mean is, if there's anything I can do to help with your classes, or your research, if you are ever gone…"

His face softened a little. "I will certainly let you know. Thank you for the offer. I believe you also had some things about which you wanted my opinion in your own work? I would be glad to assist you, of course, any time I am able."

"Thank you," she replied.

After a pause and another addition to the mixture, he looked at her again. "Martin Rochester wrote me last week with a question about a piece he was considering for the winter issue. He mentioned that you included my name in your endnotes--thanking me for my help." She nodded.

"You didn't have to do that," Snape said.

"Yes I did," Hermione answered.

A/N: A note repeated from a previous section: Mywoods University is on loan from Lilith Morgana's No Angel.

On to Chapter 2