The Burning Pen

A Turn for the Better
by Ruth Solomon

The story content is adult in nature and can contain graphic sex and violence.  Those under the age of 18 are asked to leave this site immediately.  You are not welcome here.  The author is not responsible for those under-aged who view these works.

Disclaimer: All recognizable characters belong to JKR. All situations are mine. No $$$ is being made from this fanfic.
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Chapter 37 ~ Time Moves Forward

Hermione and Neville got into a terrible row about what happened between her and Snape, Neville taking the position that by using that book, Hermione was dishonestly manipulating the wizard.

"Hermione, you were trying to trap him. It was like you dug a hole in the ground and threw some bushes over it and then stood on the other side and tried to lure him in. You were using magic on him, Hermione, and that's not right," Neville said to her, frowning.

"I was not, Neville!" Hermione argued. "I didn't cast a spell on him, or give him a Love potion. I just . . . just used techniques. Proven techniques."

"Hermione, I don't care if you didn't use a wand or a potion. You purposely put him in a position that he was trying to avoid . . . "

"Since when are you on his side?" Hermione demanded.

Neville frowned at her.

"I'm not on 'his side,' Hermione, I just think he was right to do what he did. It shows me he's not just trying to get into your knickers but treat you with proper respect, even if you're too blind to see it. He's not our age, Hermione. You can't lead him around by his . . . his nads," Neville said.

Hermione looked outraged.

"I . . . I wasn't trying to . . ." she started to say.

"Well, what would you call it, Hermione? Telling him you're dreaming about him and thinking about him in that kind of way? I know if a witch told me that, I wouldn't be able to keep her off my mind. I'd . . . I'd want to do something about it," the wizard said. "Snape's older than me and more experienced, but obviously it affected him and he didn't trust himself to be alone with you. Another wizard would have shagged you whenever he got the chance."

Hermione looked at bit dreamy at the idea, and Neville shook his head.

"You're willing to let him lose his job over you, Hermione. How can you be so selfish?" Neville asked her, his face sober. "You know something? I didn't like the idea of you and Snape, but since I've had to get used to it, I believe I am on his side . . . at least concerning this. You should wait until you graduate to make any moves. Even the book advised that. You can't blame anyone or anything for his reaction but yourself."

Neville put his cup down and rose from the bench. They were sitting outside again, wrapped up against the cold. It was early, breakfast time, and they had just grabbed some doughnuts and tea from the Great Hall and went outside to talk, since Neville couldn't see Hermione last night.

And the witch was so distraught, she told him about the book and everything, expecting Neville to be sympathetic and say Snape treated her abominably.

But Neville didn't. He looked down at his friend.

"Look, Hermione, if you love Snape like you say you do, you wouldn't try and do things to manipulate him. You'd be patient and wait just like he said you should do. You could really ruin him, you know. This is another reason you should go with someone your own age. To Snape, you're acting just like a baby instead of a grown witch. I'm not saying this to be mean, Hermione, but it's a wonder he's still interested in you, because it seems you don't care what you could do to him in the long run. Now, I have to go meet Luna. I promised to walk her to class. I'll see you later."

Neville walked away, hoping that Hermione wasn't too mad at him. As much as he cared about his friend, he wasn't going to pretend to agree with her when he didn't. As far as Neville was concerned, Professor Snape did the right thing, especially considering that Hermione was purposely working on him psychologically. Hermione was definitely in the wrong.

Hermione sat quietly in the cold morning air, thinking about what Neville said, and more about how she responded to the Professor last night. Leave it to Neville to go right to the meat of the matter. She had been less than honest in her dealings with the dark wizard. It wasn't very Gryffindorish of her at all.

Hermione sighed. She had reacted like a baby and she realized that if she really wanted to be with the Professor, she had to mature, truly mature. She shouldn't have stormed out of his office crying that he was cruel. He wasn't trying to be cruel. He was just being honest . . . far more than she was.

Guilt washed over her as she sat there, watching her breath curling in the coldness and looking up at the overcast sky. Waiting a few months wouldn't kill her. She was going to be his apprentice after all, and she had her whole life ahead of her to be with him if they were meant to be together. Anything good was worth waiting for.

Sitting outside alone in the cold morning light, Hermione Granger came to terms with herself and realized how to get the wizard she wanted honestly.

She simply had to wait.

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Snape had a difficult morning and was quite distracted. After Hermione left last night and he retired, he brooded over what he'd said to the witch and her reaction. Hermione was a young witch and emotional. It could be that she couldn't handle his honesty and might have changed her mind about him. She had called him cruel.

Cruel.

And by the way she left, he believed that she meant it. What witch would want to be with a wizard she considered cruel? The possibility that he had ruined his chances with the witch haunted him, and he was off his game in his classes. He started a lecture and lost his train of thought mid-sentence. His pupils looked at him expectantly, and he stared back at them for several moments, then snarkily assigned them reading, returning to his desk and making up a quick quiz instead.

When Hermione came to class, he managed to keep his head on straight and give the lecture he fudged in his earlier class in his usual manner as the students took notes. At the end of class, he dismissed them, expecting Hermione to leave with everyone else. She was angry with him after all.

But Hermione didn't leave. She waited for the classroom to clear and walked up to his desk. Snape had been shifting through a few parchments and wasn't aware she was there until she softly addressed him.

"Professor Snape," the witch said, standing before his desk.

Snape felt a knot form in his belly as large as a dragon. Was Hermione about to tell him to forget about everything? That she decided it would be better if she didn't take the apprenticeship . . . better if they didn't get involved?

"Yes, Miss Granger?" he responded, his black eyes drinking her in.

"I just want to say I'm sorry about last night. I realize you were only doing what you believed was proper to do. I understand. I really do. I . . . I just wanted to let you know that. You're not cruel. You're just . . . honest," she told him softly.

Snape let out a sigh. He had been holding his breath without knowing it.

"Thank you . . . Hermione," he replied softly. "I'm glad to see you are mature enough to understand why things have to be the way they are, for now."

Hermione nodded, hesitating for a moment.

"I'm, I'm just going to go now. You don't have to worry about me . . . I'm going to throw myself into studying and focusing on the NEWTS and my classes, so I get the marks I need for your offer to be made. I'll be the perfect student," she said to him.

Snape almost smiled at her.

"I'm sure you'll make the perfect apprentice as well," he replied.

Hermione smiled at him.

"See you in class, Professor," she said softly, withdrawing.

"Indeed you will, Miss Granger," Snape replied, watching as she exited his classroom, then letting out another sigh of relief when the door closed.

She understood.

Thank the gods.

She really was an exceptional young woman. Exceptional.

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The days, weeks and months flew by quickly, both Snape and Hermione acting as proper student and teacher, with Snape still showing his obvious favoritism. Luna, Neville and Hermione studied together now, although Luna irked Hermione constantly with her ability to answer every question textbook verbatim. But . . . she did figure out Luna's secret.

"You have a photographic memory!" Hermione said, somewhat accusingly, as Neville looked at Luna wide-eyed. She hadn't told him.

"Guilty," Luna replied with a soft smile, "but do me a favor and don't tell anyone. They'll be constantly asking me questions as if I was a walking trivia book, trying to stump me. I don't want to go through that."

Hermione could understand it, and felt a little better concerning her competitiveness with Luna, and even a little superior, although she didn't say it. After all, Hermione retained knowledge, while Luna simply remembered it. Still, it was a very cool ability, and once Hermione knew Luna had this gift, anytime she needed to reference something that she knew Luna had taken a class on, instead of running for a book, she simply asked the witch.

Luna was an excellent study aid. Neville cashed in on her ability as well.

"I swear Luna, you're the best girlfriend in the world," he gushed after she gave him the formula for a difficult potion.

"The very best."

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The NEWTS came and went, and Hermione did excellent, scoring extremely high marks in every subject, including, of course, potions. Actually, she scored the highest marks Hogwarts had seen in fifty years. Neville did very well, too, scoring high enough to get an honorable mention at graduation.

After the diplomas were handed out, Albus Dumbledore approached the podium, waiting patiently as all the hubbub died down and the graduation caps were collected and reapplied to the proper heads. He tapped it with his wand, and everyone settled in, looking at him expectantly.

"Now, we come to the part of the ceremony where awards are handed out, and extra points are given to students of exceptional merit. Naturally, this could affect who earns the House Cup this year, although currently Slytherin has possession of it.

The Slytherins all cheered. Snape sat quietly. He knew that this year, the House Cup was beyond his house. But he found he didn't mind it at all.

There was always next year.

Albus named several students who received points for services rendered to the school, granting Hermione and Neville a total of three hundred and fifty points for locating the chambers and destroying the basilisk. Luna received two hundred points for her part in the adventure and developing the Silhouette mask. Slytherin fell silent as the House Cup passed from the Serpent's Lair to the Lion's Den. There was no grumbling however. The Gryffindors deserved it.

Next Albus handed out awards for academic excellence as well as service to the school. Hermione hit the dais five times, and Neville twice. When everyone was settled again and expecting the Headmaster to dismiss them, Albus raised his voice one more time.

At graduation, everyone at Hogwarts was in attendance, even the house elves and ghosts, all politely applauding the students as they accepted their diplomas and awards. Myrtle was there, bobbing next to Hagrid, watching the graduation wistfully.

"We have one more diploma to hand out," Albus said, "and a few house points as well as a Medal of Merit. Would Myrtle Tuttlesberry please come to the dais?"

Gasps rose, followed by applause as a stunned Myrtle stared up at the Headmaster, unable to move. Hagrid smiled at her.

"Go on, Myrtle. I'll come wit' yah ter collect yer diploma," the half-giant said.

Myrtle looked at him, her eyes glazed behind her pearly glasses as the applause continued. She self-consciously smoothed her ghostly robes floated out into the aisle and up to the dais, Hagrid following her. She floated up to Dumbledore.

"Myrtle Tuttlesberry, this has been a long time coming. You had completed your classes at Hogwarts at the time of your demise. Congratulations on completing a successful tenure at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry," he said to the ghost with a smile and passing the diploma to Hagrid, who unrolled it so Myrtle could see her name and Dumbledore's signature. Pearly tears fell from her eyes.

"In addition," Dumbledore said, "I wish to present you with the Medal of Exceptional Service for your part in assisting in the protection of three of our students who were in dire danger. Without your timely action, we might have lost them. We are in your debt."

Again, applause rang out as Dumbledore passed Hagrid a beautiful gold medal. Myrtle was beyond words, but managed to whisper, "Thank you, Headmaster."

"You're welcome, Miss Tuttlesberry," Albus replied, "but there is one more thing. Because of your assistance in the chambers, you have earned Ravenclaw house three hundred points, thus awarding them the House Cup this year."

The Ravenclaw table went wild, screaming and clapping and shouting Myrtle's name. And even though the Eagle took the cup from the Lion, every house, even Slytherin, joined in the applause as Myrtle floated there, seemingly unable to fathom all of the attention and . . . the love. At last, at last she was truly acknowledged.

"Thar yah go, Myrtle," Hagrid said to her softly as the ghost cried, silverish tears splashing the floor then disappearing. "Yah deserves it, yah know. All of it."

Myrtle was about to reply, when suddenly a bright beam of light shot through the sky-illusioned ceiling of the Great Hall and fell on her, the ghost's pearly glow becoming brighter and dazzling as everyone fell silent in shock.

"It's the Light," Sir Nicholas breathed, awed.

Myrtle was earthbound not because she chose to be, but because of the violence with which she died, and her misery. Most of the ghosts at Hogwarts made a conscious decision not to move on, denying the Light. Myrtle had never had a choice . . . until now. Now, she was free of her misery, her soul open to the world beyond this one. All she had to do was accept her death and cross over.

"It says . . . I can go now," Myrtle breathed, beautiful in the dazzling light, appearing older, her visage now of the witch she would have become. She turned to Hagrid.

"I can go now, Hagrid," she said to the half-giant softly. "I'm free."

Tears fell from Hagrid's eyes, the droplets caught in his brushy beard as he looked at his friend.

"Then yah should go, Myrtle," he said to her, his voice catching.

Myrtle blinked at him a moment, then floated forward and kissed him on the lips. It was like a small blast of freezing cold, but made Hagrid feel warm all over.

"I'll remember you always, Hagrid," she said softly as he wiped his eyes.

"I'll put yer medal in tha' trophy case, an' keep yer diploma, ifn yah don' mind," he told her.

"That's fine, Hagrid. Just fine," she replied with a smile. Then she turned to the silent audience.

"Thank you all, so very much," she said to the students, many of whom had wet eyes as they looked back at her, murmuring their goodbyes. Minerva was dabbing at her eyes with her sleeve, and Albus' blue eyes watered behind his half-moon glasses. Myrtle looked up.

"Mother?" she said, then, "Mother! Oh, mother!"

She started to ascend into the light, then paused for a moment. An expression of joyful malice crossed her shining face.

"And Olive Hornsby!" she hissed. "Oh, I've been waiting to see you again, you bitch!"

With that, Myrtle zipped forward and disappeared like a flash into the light and presumably, the next world. Someone was going to receive her just rewards, you could be sure of that.

Albus addressed the stunned audience.

"This ceremony is officially over. We will see you all tonight at the Graduation Dance!"

That broke them from their silence. Cheers rang out and caps flew as the new graduates celebrated their release from Hogwarts and entrance into the adult world.

From the dais, Snape watched Hermione embrace Neville and several other students with joy.

Finally, she was free.

And . . . so was he.

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A/N: Thanks for reading. ****

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