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 23 ~ Hermione's Service

Myrtle was sitting in her stall, reliving her part in helping to rescue the students. It was a small role, but an important one. No one would have known Hermione, Luna and Neville were down in the chamber. She saved their lives. Now she had something other to focus on than her early death. She was a hero.

Suddenly the door opened.

"Hey thar, Myrtle! Yah in 'here?" Hagrid called. Behind him were several glum looking students with tools, buckets, mops, scrapers and more.

Myrtle stuck her head out the stall, through the closed door.

"Hagrid? What's going on?" she asked the half-giant, who gave her a whiskery smile.

"Jes' want ter warn yah tha' its goin' ter be noisy in 'ere fer a few days. We're fixin' tha place up, orders of Dumbledore," Hagrid replied.

Myrtle's eyes grew even larger as the students got to work, removing the doors on the stalls, taking down the spotted mirror, scraping down the chipped sinks, toilets and woodwork. These were students assigned detention with Hagrid and he was putting them to good use, not allowing them to use any magic pursuant to Snape's directives. He had supplied most of the workers. Naturally, most of them were from Gryffindor.

Myrtle watched as Hagrid himself caulked the piping, shouldering his bulk into the tiny stalls and under sinks, groaning and stretching.

It took several days, but when the makeover was completed, Myrtle's bathroom was beautiful. There was even a little table with lotion and fresh flowers on it, and a cushioned mahogany bench for sitting on. It was bright and airy, and Myrtle's stall was blocked off with a little blue and bronze rope. On the gleaming door was a bronze plaque that read:

"In Loving Memory of Myrtle Tuttlesberry."

Students began to use the bathroom again, and Myrtle became quite popular since she no longer moaned and groaned, feeling sorry for herself.

And, best of all, no one teased her about her glasses.

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When Neville saw Ron the next morning, he expected the redhead to be furious with him. Instead, Ron greeted him with a big smile.

"I guess you didn't really need the map for a shag," he said to Neville, who shook his head.

"I'm sorry, Ron. But I couldn't tell you what we were up to," Neville replied. "I didn't have a shag memory to give you, so I just gave you my memories of what happened with the basilisk.

"I know. It's all right. But that basilisk scared the shit out of me, until I realized I couldn't be hurt. Then, I just watched the action. Wow! You were something else . . . and Hermione . . . my gods, she was just brilliant, creating a sunrise so the rooster would crow, then saving Snape with Fawkes. Both of you are real heroes," Ron said sincerely.

"Thanks," Neville said reddening a little.

Ron sobered, then looked around the Common Room to see if anyone were listening in on them.

"Neville, you know . . . I really like Hermione," he said, "but it's like she hates me. She won't give me the time of day."

"Well, trying to blast her off her feet doesn't help," Neville said, his eyes hardening a bit.

"I know. I just got mad because she turned me down flat," Ron told him.

Neville snorted.

"You go out with Lavender, Ron. How did you expect her to react? You wanted to cheat on the witch you have. In case you didn't know, witches usually like their wizards unattached when they ask them out," Neville said to him, walking up the entrance now, heading for breakfast. Hermione had told him to go along without her. She'd be down later.

Ron stayed with him.

"Well, I don't want to be witchless. If I dump Lavender, and Hermione won't go out with me, then I'll be out of luck," the redhead said.

"Well, if you like her, Ron, you'd take that chance . . . but I don't think you have much of one. Dueling her last night was a big mistake. Hermione doesn't let things go easily," Neville replied.

"I'll apologize," Ron said. "I'll tell her I'm sorry for calling her a frigid, stuck-up cow. But she hexed first."

Neville shook his head. Ron had more of a chance of hitting the Wizard's Lottery than getting Hermione to forgive him after that remark. They took the shifting stairwells down to the second floor, took the narrow stairwell to the first, then walked down the marble staircase to the ground floor. They were approaching the Great Hall when suddenly a chorus of female voices chirped, "Hi, Neville!"

Neville looked to his right and saw a group of Hufflepuff witches smiling at him.

"Hi," he replied, reddening a bit.

They all giggled as he continued on, Ron scowling back at the witches.

"What am I? Invisible?" he grumped, then looked at Neville. "I bet you have your pick of witches now, Neville. Anyone on the to-shag list?"

"No," he said, "and even if I were interested in a witch that way, I wouldn't tell you. You'd be begging for another Pensieve."

Ron smirked as Neville pulled open the doors to the Great Hall and entered.

"Well, I wouldn't need a Pensieve you know. All you'd have to do is put in a good word and I'd get a little myself. Everyone loves a hero, and I'm sure a witch or two would take your recommendation to heart," Ron said as Neville sat down at the table, pulling a plate of bacon toward him.

Ron sat down next to him, grabbing a doughnut off the closest plate.

"Ron, you're a pig, you know that? In one breath, you're telling me how much you like Hermione . . . in your next breath, you're telling me you want me to put in a word for you for a shag with some other witch. You're absolutely mental."

"It's hormones," Ron said, biting into the doughnut. "I think I'm producing too much testosterone or something."

"I don't doubt it," Neville said, scraping some eggs into his plate. "You have to have a huge set of balls to act the way you do."

Ron was about to reply in the affirmative when a pair of arms wrapped around his neck from behind, pulling his head back into a warm body.

"Hi, Won-Won," Lavender gushed, kissing his cheek. "I missed you on the way down to breakfast. You know I like to walk with you."

"Sorry. I was talking with Neville," Ron said.

Lavender smiled at Neville.

"Hi, Neville, " she said, releasing Ron and sitting beside him. She picked up a napkin and tucked it under his chin, then started collecting food for him.

Small portions.

Lavender didn't let Ron eat like he liked when she was around. She was afraid he'd choke to death, and claimed to have seen his demise by food "in the stars."

She was a great Trelawney fan, and was one of the few students who actually took the teacher's Advance Divination course.

Ron frowned slightly as she began to cut his food into smaller pieces with a knife. When she finished, she speared a bit of egg with a fork and held it up before his face.

"Open up, Won-Won," she said.

Ron obediently opened his mouth, a resigned look on his face. He took it because Lavender would put out sometimes. He didn't want to mess that up.

Neville shook his head slightly. Lavender would drive him absolutely mad.

Lavender's appearance effectively ended their conversation. Neville finished his food and headed for class.

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Hermione caught up on her studies while Neville worked with Professor Snape. She also caught up on the old timeline via her dreams, details coming in more clarity. It was hard to believe that Harry was so different, so much kinder and friendlier in the other past. It was harder to believe that she had loved him so much as a friend.

If not for Hermione, both he and his parents would be dead now. Harry James Potter owed her and Professor Snape so much, but would never know it. Ron was very much like he was in this timeline, but he was a loyal friend and Hermione was shocked to learn that they liked each other, and had a fight when she went to the ball with Victor Krum because he was jealous. He was also very brave in the other timeline, someone who could be counted on when the chips were down.

Maybe she was too hard on him. She'd never given him a real chance in this timeline. But gah! He was such a randy little bastard. Hermione had a sneaking suspicion her former self had no idea about this side of Ronald Weasley. Of course he would hide it from her.

Dumbledore was much friendlier too, and doted on Harry. In this timeline, they only spoke in passing. And Draco, well, he was a dick in any timeline, but in the old one he was changed into a ferret by a very different and rather broken Auror, Alastor Moody.

Snape. Dear gods, he was a bastard in the other timeline. He seemed angry all the time, and never smiled like he did in this timeline. Nor did he speak much and seemed to spend much of his time lurking in the shadows, watching, waiting to catch them doing wrong. She had even set his robes on fire when she was a first year, thinking he was trying to kill Harry during a Quidditch game. One thing was clear, in the alternate past he treated her with disdain, if not downright hatred.

Everything had been so different. Professor Quirrel had died, Harry's godfather was imprisoned Ginny Weasley had been taken to the chamber by the basilisk and nearly died. Dementors had nearly killed Harry, and someone named Remus Lupin was a werewolf. Susan Bones' relatives had been killed and the Hufflepuff Cedric Diggory as well. There was a house elf named Dobby who belonged to the Malfoys, but she had never seen the creature in this present. Actually, she didn't give house elves much thought at all. But in the other timeline, she had tried to free them, and they didn't like it.

What came back to her with the most clarity, was her night with young Snape seen through her own eyes, rather than the Pensieve. He had been seventeen when they shagged, younger than she was. But he was definitely experienced.

"I robbed the cradle," Hermione thought as she turned over in the bed and lay on her stomach. She hadn't once taken the Dreamless draught.

Her dream memories didn't take over her present life, they were more like a story that never happened, with the exception of her encounter with the young Snape. Still, Hermione couldn't help feeling a twinge of sadness when she saw Harry now, so arrogant and stuck on himself, and remembered how close they had been. Maybe there was still something of that old Harry in him, but she doubted if it would ever come to the fore. His life was so different now. He was a Slytherin, had a different circle of friends, and a different history. No, he was who he was now.

However, when Ron came to her and apologized, Hermione accepted it, to Neville's open-mouthed surprise.

"What was that all about?" he asked Hermione as he walked her down to the dungeons. His part of the detentions with Snape was over, and he had learned quite a bit about basilisk anatomy in the process. Now it was Hermione's turn to enter the serpent's den.

"You forgave him?"

"Yes, I did. Because . . . well, because we were friends in the other timeline. He was an idiot then too, but a loyal friend and we cared about each other," she replied.

Neville shook his head.

"He's sweet on you, you know," Neville said quietly. "I believe he really means it, too."

Hermione knew it as well, but her heart belonged to a certain older wizard.

"It wouldn't work out, Neville. We're too different," she responded.

Neville took a deep breath.

"Hermione, you really need to get out here and find someone, at least test the waters," he said to her.

Hermione snorted.

"You should talk," she muttered at him as they walked down the narrow staircase to the dungeon level. "You're gah-gah over Luna and won't even ask her out."

Neville reddened.

"I've decided I'm going to do it the next time I see her," he said resolutely.

The influx of interested witches had given Neville a bit more courage, although he didn't take much advantage of them. He still wanted Luna, and didn't need any complications such as angry witches he played around with ruining his chances.

"But at least I like someone, Hermione. You've never expressed an interest in anyone. Have you even been kissed?" he asked her.

Neville had experienced a few chaste kisses playing "Spin the Wand" a couple of times. They had been very nice.

"Yes, I've been kissed. Victor Krum kissed me," she shot back at Neville.

"That doesn't count. That was a ball and anyway, Victor lives too far away to have a relationship with," he told her.

"And there's too many witches interested in him," Hermione added.

She didn't doubt the Bulgarian seeker plowed through them all like water. He was very physical after all, and had hands whose slippery gripping power could only be rivaled by the Giant Squid's tentacles. He had quite the handprint on his cheek at the end of that night.

"But do you see what I mean, Hermione? And . . . and I'm concerned about you. We're graduating and I'm going to be pursuing my studies in Herbology and we're not going to see each other as much. I hate the idea of you not having anyone . . . close," the Gryffindor said, his eyes full of concern as he looked at his friend.

Hermione stopped and looked up at Neville.

"Oh, Neville. That's so sweet. But you don't have to worry. I'm going to take an apprenticeship with Professor Snape, so I'll be very busy," she assured him.

"Working with Snape isn't having a social life, Hermione," Neville said to her. "Actually, Snape doesn't seem to have one either, so he's certainly not going to be . . ."

"That's Professor Snape, Mr. Longbottom," a silken voice said.

Both Hermione and Neville looked up to see Snape standing in the corridor, his dark eyes resting on them. Neville went ashen.

"Ten points from Gryffindor for discussing a life you know nothing about, Mr. Longbottom," the Potions master added. "My life. Now, come along, Miss Granger."

Snape turned and with a billow of robes, entered his office.

Hermione turned to Neville.

"I'd better go," she said to him softly. "Sorry about that."

"I'm lucky that's all he took," Neville replied. "I'll see you later."

Neville turned and hurried up the corridor.

Hermione took a deep breath, then walked down the damp dungeon corridor, turning into Snape's office. The wizard was standing in front of his desk with his arms folded, waiting for her.

"Close the door behind you," he said softly.

Hermione did so, her heart fluttering a bit at the command in his voice. They were alone and would be undisturbed.

"Follow me," he said, turning and walking through a short corridor that linked to the classroom, past the Potions store and into a lab, in which several cauldrons boiled and bubbled.

Hermione instantly brought her robes to her nose, trying to cover it from the stench. She coughed and Snape looked back at her with a smirk.

"You'll get used to the smell, Miss Granger. It would be best to take it in fully rather than prolong the inevitable," he told her. "Rendering basilisk flesh is a smelly business."

Hermione lowered her robes, her eyes tearing.

Snape studied her for a moment, then said, "I need you to strip down to your bra and knickers, Miss Granger."

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A/N: Ah, we make it to "detention." Yay for Myrtle. They fixed up her bathroom and gave her a plaque. Nice. Thanks for reading.

PLEASE REVIEW "A Turn for the Better"  >>>> NEXT CHAPTER

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