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Ad Vitam	By : GryffJr Category: Harry Potter > Het - Male/Female > Snape/Hermione Views: 4889 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter, nor any of the characters from the books or movies. I do not make any money from the writing of this story.

Chapter List
- 1-1
- 2-2
- 3-3
- 4-4
- 5-5
- 6-6
- 7-7
- 6
- 7
Disclaimer: do NOT own, and newer wil..pity about that :(

A/N: Please R&R

She was bored to death.Period.

Even sitting in double History of Magic listening to Binns was far more interesting than sitting here in the Headmasters office waiting for the Order of Phoenix meeting to finally start.

“No and no, Albus! Why does it always have to be Gryffindor colors?” Filius Flitwick was pacing in circles in the middle of the room. “Make it blue and silver.”

Yes. Decoration of the Great hall for Christmas was the reason for the heated arguing while they waited for the rest of the Order members to arrive.

Hermione sat in the big leather chair near the fireplace reading a random book she took from the shelf half an hour ago.

Frank and Alice Longbottom were late, as was Alastor Moody. The old prick.

So far, she found reading A virgin in Paris by Barbara Cartland, more interesting than listening to Flitwick pining about the drape colors. Who knew the old man had such taste in muggle literature?

Minerva sided with Dumbledore on the drape question.

Boring, boring, and boring.

Hagrid was engrossed in trying to make Fawkes speak ‘like the muggle birdies do,’ but was failing miserably; Arthur Weasley was sleeping, and Molly could not come. He was still tall and thin, she noted, with a receding hairline and wire-rimmed glasses. Not much had changed there.

It was strange to see him alive and she found herself glancing at him from time to time, trying to think in the present and not the future she hoped he would never have to face.

Finally the floo opened and the last three Order members stepped into the room.

Arthur started in his chair, rubbing his eyes tiredly, and Flitwick stopped his whining mid- sentence.

Alice took a seat on the sofa next to Hermione, and Frank went for some Chocolate Frogs on Dumbledore’s desk before finding his own seat. Hermione nodded politely to Alice, and she gave a small smile in return.

“Not another one Albus!” exclaimed the grumpy old Auror, not even looking in Hermione’s direction. “I can understand Minerva, that terrible Weasley woman … no offence Arthur …” he muttered somewhat sheepishly before continuing, “I even came to terms with her presence …” he said, pointing his wand at Alice.

As he blustered and complained, Hermione noticed that Moody still had both legs and arms, his eyes were normal, and his nose was in one piece, but he was still as paranoid and cranky as she remembered.

“ … and now you’ve brought this … this … Slytherin spy among us?” he continued his rant, unaware or simply not concerned with the eye rolling going on around him. “Why, Albus? She’s a woman! Couldn’t you at least have recruited a male from that traitor’s house?”

“Never mind him, he’s always like that. Chocolate frog?” she heard a familiar voice next to her and looked up and saw Neville … not Neville … Frank, in front of her. His son will look just like him.

“Thank you.” she replied with a smile.

“Darling, sit down here.” Alice put her hand on the black leather sofa. “You should have heard what he said about me joining the all-male Auror training,” Alice said with surprising good humor, “you’ll get used to him in time.”

“I have no choice, do I,” Hermione replied back softly, before continuing in a much louder tone as she addressed the cranky Auror. “Hermione Grimaldi, Mr. Moody. It’s a pleasure to meet you as well.” She added, with a bite of sarcasm that would have made Snape proud, “And to answer your question, No, I am not a Slytherin, and I certainly am not a Spy for Riddle.”

“Albus?” Moody pointedly ignored her and continued demanding answers from the headmaster as if she had never spoken.

“Sit down, Alastor. Have a lemon drop and relax,” the Headmaster said firmly, standing up from his high backed chair. “As you have already heard, she is not a Slytherin, but is merely filling in for Horace on weekends, which, I might add, is good for the Order. Those kids are not exactly nice to Gryffindors, young or old.”

“Oh, just deal with it Moody,” Minerva finally broke her silence, “The girl is in the Order, Albus trusts her, and last, but not least, she is very good at DADA.” she sniffed angrily before taking a small sip from her cup. “You were late again, so now we need to speed things along, because I have tests tomorrow for the seventh years, and I need to get ready for them.”

“What tests, Witch, you’ve been teaching that class for how long now? Hell, you were my teacher for Transfiguration,” Moody pointed out, unfazed by her temper, “I doubt you need extra time to prepare.”

“Which reminds me,” Minerva added a bit spitefully, “you never were very good at transfiguring, still aren’t, are you?”

“Minerva ... please,” Albus threw both of his hands in the air in frustration, waiting for the squabbling members to finally settle into subdued silence so he could begin the meeting.

Hermione watched the petty exchange of words silently, but her irritation got the best of her. She had been so impatient to start this meeting, and now Moody was trying to ruin everything.

“Bloody hell, if Mr. Moody wants some proof that I am not a spy, he will get it Headmaster,” she said angrily, standing up to make her point. “And then maybe we can finally start our meeting, otherwise we are all just wasting our time here.”

Walking towards the Headmaster’s desk, she bypassed Moody, who had been standing in her way. She perused the large bookcase, filled almost to overflowing with books on almost every subject imaginable, and a moment later climbed the small ladder, which stood nearby, to retrieve the item she had been searching for.

She gingerly stepped back down and turned back towards the group, “I trust everyone knows what this is?” she held up the battered Sorting Hat in her left hand.

“Silly question girl,” Alastor sneered at her, “And I think you are a bit too old to be sorted.”

Ignoring him, she put her right hand inside the hat. Merlin, please, I need this to work …

Everyone was looking at her with questions in their eyes, except for Dumbledore. He knows what I’m going to do. She recognized his twinkle for what it was … mirth.

Her hand finally touched something cold. Steel. Hermione could not help but smile a little before silently counting to three and then pulled out her hand, now clutching the unmistakable sword, from the hat so forcefully, that it hit the Headmaster’s desk with a loud clang, and stayed half buried there even when she finally released it from her grip.

Minerva McGonagall almost chocked on her tea when she saw what Hermione had done.

Frank jumped to his feet in astonishment, “Holy mother of …”

“Merlin’s Balls!” exclaimed Arthur, wishing Molly had been there to see it.

Made from Goblin forged stainless steel, it measured thirty four inches in length, and it sparkled brighter than the flames crackling in the fireplace. The hilt was decorated with egg-sized rubies, and the name of the original owner was engraved proudly on the untarnished silver blade. Godric Gryffindor.

“Excellent, child, excellent,” Dumbledore clapped his hands, clearly enjoying what he saw.

“Alastor,” he said, to the gob smacked Auror in a voice filled with equal parts amusement and warning, “I hope you don’t think Ms. Grimaldi is a spy now, because as much as I hate to admit it, only a true Gryffindor could have pulled that out of the hat.” He looked at everyone briefly to make sure there would be no more questions about Hermione’s loyalty before returning to his chair. “Now, if you all would please have a seat, we can finally get started with the reason I have gathered you all here.”
- 6
- 7
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