Disclaimer: I do not own any of the characters.

Word Count: 2803

Challenge: Are you Crazy Enough To Do It Challenge

Prompt: 601. (word) Excellence

Challenge: The Golden Snitch Forum - Kasai, Mahoutokoro - [Challenge] Through the Universe

Prompt: 111. Minor Planet — (word) pointless

Challenge: The Golden Snitch Forum - Kasai, Mahoutokoro - [Challenge] Dreamcatchers

Prompt: Dream: Write a story featuring a known 'light' character, such as Luna Lovegood - Hermione Granger

Challenge: The Golden Snitch Forum - Kasai, Mahoutokoro - [Challenge] Ollivander's Wand Shop

Prompt: 11 inch - Write about a Slytherin character.

Charles Granger was a learned man – he had come from a reasonably well-off family, who had ensured that he received a decent education and a good wife. He earned enough to put a roof over his family and maintain a respectable standing in his society – which was a lot to ask for in the late 19th century.

Charles Granger was a learned man, but he was no prodigy – he was just learned enough to recognize that his daughter was one.

When his construction company offered to move his family to Cambridge, he saw his chance; he took his daughter to the barber shop, had her long curly mane chopped off, and instructed that from that day forth she was to live her life as a man.

Because he knew how much more difficult it would be for his daughter to follow her dreams, if the world saw her as a woman. And he knew how much she loved mathematics – in the six years he's known her, not a day had gone by where he wouldn't find her in front of a mathematics book.

So, Hermione Granger had hidden herself away, and Herman Granger became one of the youngest members of the Cambridge University Mathematics Department; busied in Riemann's ideas of prime numbers and the complex vector spaces which could be used in number theory. No one but Charles, his wife, and Hermione, privy to the truth.

Hermione struggled with the huge stack of papers in her hands as she tried to muscle her way into her office. Despite repeated complaints, the carpenter refused to mend her door – the hinge was so tight that it seemingly required the strength of a burly sailor just to open it. Somehow, she managed to shove it open this time without dropping more than ten papers.

A student standing nearby rushed over and assisted her with the fallen papers.

"Good day, Professor Granger, sir." He uttered with a smile; before rushing back to his fellow classmates.

Hermione sighed and strode back into her office. Despite having lived with it for most of her life, she still questioned her father's decision from time to time.

The mathematician in her certainly appreciated it – she knew she would never have achieved what she had as a woman. Her talents would've been ignored, and she would've been forced to become someone's housewife – spending her days measuring how much of a cup of sugar she would need for dinner, or counting how many children she would need to birth to satisfy her husband.

She had never faced any trouble in disguising herself as a man. Her overachieving brain had derailed her from the regular path of a student "because the field of mathematics needed her", as her primary mathematics teacher had put it. Puberty had never quite graced her body – her breasts hadn't developed beyond half a handful and the contour of her hips was so slight that nobody noticed. She presented herself like an unathletic, introverted, genius who wouldn't spare a thought for anything that didn't help her field of study.

And everyone readily believed that.

But she always wondered – how would her life have turned out if she had spent more time outside her world of numbers? What would it have been like to be a maiden searching for love? How would she have lived her life as a woman?

She quelled these questions by reasoning that she would've wondered about her life choices either way. And with that, her days go by without consequence.

An hour later, Hermione was busy tackling a complex equation when her door swung open forcefully, startling her out of her reverie. She quickly jotted her thoughts in a sheet of paper so she could resume her work afterwards.

"Sorry, Professor Granger. The… door was jammed."

A young woman stumbled into the cozy room; Hermione recognized her as Daphne Greengrass, a student in one of her classes – one of the few female students enrolled in this institute. She wasn't a child prodigy like Hermione; no, she merely a girl who was lucky enough to be born to some Earl or Marquess.

Hermione couldn't decide whether to envy her because she could be herself and have the mathematical training that Hermione had; or pity her because nobody would take her seriously for it.

Instead, she just maintained her stoic composure and mumbled out. "Yes, miss Greengrass?"

Hermione watched as the younger woman took a seat in front of her. "Professor Granger, I… over the recent few months, I have been fascinated by your work in the field of Number Theory and I… would like to express my desire to continue studying under your tutelage."

Hermione was taken aback by the girl's request. Having been a professor at Cambridge for merely two years, no student had approached her for any sort of project yet. If she was being honest, she hadn't even considered that as a possibility.

Watching her professor's surprised expression, Daphne slowly arose from her seat. "Professor, I know this seems to come out of the blue, and I know I haven't necessarily been the most attentive student in your lectures. Howbeit, please consider me for the role. I promise to do my best to uphold your caliber of excellence." She excused herself and exited from the room, leaving a dumbfounded Hermione Granger in her wake.

Hermione sat rigidly in her seat for what felt like fifteen minutes; fortunately, Daphne had approached her in the evening – Hermione needn't worry about missing her lectures.

She knew she could refuse to tutor Daphne and the institute would understand. She was a new professor and far younger than most others. The institute would allow some laxity in their rules for her. Furthermore, Hermione had overheard from her fellow coworkers that the institute usually overlooks refusals to female students; they were expected to be married off to some other nobleman's son when they come of age.

But she also knew she couldn't dispel her duties entirely; she knew a day would come where she had to take in a protégé.

And she felt a pang in her heart at the thought of refusing Daphne. She couldn't feel pity for the girl, and then ignore it when she has a chance to make right of the situation.

She spent a few more hours contemplating her decision, her complex equations forgotten as she weighed the positives and negatives of taking in Daphne time and time again. Most importantly, she worried about her true identity. She had never been in a situation where she had to work in close quarters with a person for a long time, besides her parents. To this day, her father was the only one who maintained a regular communication with her; despite having moved away since she joined the institute. Her mother had passed away eleven years ago, when she was fourteen.

After a good night's sleep and a morning of lectures and seminars; Hermione had come to a decision. And after her last lecture of the day, she requested Daphne to stay behind.

Once the rest of the students had dispersed, Hermione led the younger woman to her office.

"Sit down."

Daphne nervously settled into the seat, never quite relaxing into it either as she rippled in anticipation.

Hermione took a deep breath and exhaled. "After much consideration, I've decided to allow you to… contribute to my research. B-"

"Thank You! Thank you so much! I was so worried when I heard that Professors do not undertake women. I…" Daphne's words petered out as her eyes met Hermione's unimpressed stare. "I'm sorry, Professor." She murmured as Hermione continued.

Hermione tried her best to seem as stern and professor-like as she could manage. "Miss Greengrass, I empathize with the issues you might face with some other professors; but I have no intention to uphold such practices. Like anyone else who might wish to contribute, you must prove that you are truly willing to work with utmost dedication. I will be observing you for the following few months."

Daphne's voice now held a certain zeal that was missing in all her previous interactions, but she managed to keep herself from getting too excited. "I will, Professor Granger. Thank you."

"I will instruct you to research certain topics in the coming days. Please present any ideas you might have about anything related to Number Theory; my door is open on most evenings." Hermione concluded. "You may leave now, Miss Greengrass."

Hermione felt a weight lift off her shoulders as the girl exited from her office; though she didn't understand why she tensed up to begin with.

When she sent a telegram to her father telling him of her decision; her father spent most of the telegram back warning her to remain careful with her identity, not to disclose her secret to the world. Finally, at the very bottom, he added in a small note of congratulations for the achievement.

Daphne visited Hermione in her office nearly twice a week. At first, most of the problems she presented to Hermione were quite simple; predominantly hypotheses of slightly lesser known theories that had already been proved. Despite the lack of results, Hermione could see her intent to work for the field. Daphne put forth a decent effort to bettering herself, and Hermione knew enough to appreciate effort over talent, despite having a lot of talent herself.

As time passed, she had heard whispers of her male name and Daphne being mentioned in the same sentence; especially outside her office immediately following a discussion session. She chose to ignore them as they served no purpose, and instructed Daphne to do the same.

A few weeks after they started working together, one of the younger professors – Ronald Weasley from the Physics department, approached her on the courtyard outside the library.

"Good day, Professor Granger."

"Good day, Professor Weasley. Anything I can do for you?" Hermione mumbled.

"Professor Williamson was saying something odd – that you've taken that Earl's daughter, Daphne under your tutelage." He questioned.

"Yes, I have."

"Did she have her father threaten you?"

Hermione's brow furrowed. "I beg your pardon, Professor."

"I harbor no ill-intent, Herman. It just seems a little odd that you would pick such a student as your protégé. In two years' time, she will be married to some rich bloke and become the Marchioness of some state. Why waste your time with her? It is a pointless exercise. Unless…"

Hermione eyed him with a confused glare. She did not appreciate his views on this topic already, but she kept quiet as she wanted to figure out what else people thought of her decision.

When Hermione didn't seem to pick up on what he was insinuating, Ronald continued. "Unless you are interested in her… romantically."

"Preposterous! The nerve of you to suggest such a thing, Mr. Weasley. I have nothing but the most noble of intentions towards all of my students; men or women. One of my student approached me with pure educational intentions, and I chose to accommodate her after I witnessed her growing interest in the subject. How dare you taint that with blasphemous accusations such as this?" Hermione roared.

Ronald Weasley backed away slowly while apologizing; clearly afraid of her despite being far taller and stronger than her. After another harsh glare, Hermione stormed back to her office, leaving a terrified Ronald Weasley and a bunch of stunned onlookers in her wake.

The whispers of 'Herman and Daphne' disappeared after that day; instead being replaced by harrowing tales of how one should never anger Professor Granger. Having never felt any more ferocious than a newborn kitten her whole life, Hermione couldn't bring herself to correct these whispers. She also couldn't bring herself to wipe the smile off her face every time she heard them.

Slowly, the amount of time they spent together increased as Daphne started getting better at her work. Hermione hadn't realized how much time they spent together until one week where the girl had spent every evening in her office, even over the weekend. And while she could've justified it from her side as progress in mathematics; she couldn't think of any justification from Daphne's perspective.

One day, she decided to question the girl about it.

"Daphne?"

"Yes, prof?" Daphne turned her eyes away from the chalkboard covered in calculations.

"Pardon me for asking you this in this manner, do you not have… friends? You spend an absurd amount of time in my office, for a student." Hermione prodded.

Daphne stood up slowly with a troubled expression on her face. "A-Am I unwanted here, sir?"

"No, of course not, Daphne; you are very much welcome here. I was merely asking a question. It just seemed surprising since you did hang around with your mates when you had approached me; and you do not seem to do that anymore. I hope I had nothing to do with that."

"I-I…" Daphne stuttered.

"Daphne, am I the reason you do not speak to your friends anymore?" Hermione asked nervously.

"Yes." Daphne mumbled out softly.

"Why?"

"They were not respectful towards you." Daphne complained.

"As a professor, I have come to terms with the fact that there will always be a small group of my students who will detest me despite my best efforts to appease them. And you have to as well." Hermione reasoned.

"They didn't attack your teaching methods, they attacked your identity; calling you girly and awkward looking."

Hermione's heart started racing when she heard this; and she only managed to get it under control when she reasoned to herself that they referred to her mannerisms as 'girly', and didn't imply that she was actually a girl.

"As I said – there will be some people who detest me."

"That does not imply that I should be friends with them."

Hermione couldn't retort to that; and they dropped the discussion there.

With neither of them having any friends, Hermione and Daphne spent almost all of their time together – even eating meals together, usually involved in a discussion about some problem they were tackling earlier that day.

Daphne's efforts were slowly gaining recognition with the mathematics department as well; and finally, nine months into their arrangement, the Cambridge mathematics department offered her to continue working with Hermione after her studies as a regular student have ended. Eventually she would become a professor like Hermione.

Of course, all of this was offered under the condition that she could convince her father.

Daphne chose to ignore that condition for the evening, as Hermione decided they could celebrate the evening with some quality wine.

They trudged up to Hermione's relatively small house just outside the campus premises and popped the bottle open.

They spent the whole evening talking about everything but mathematics – from the passing of Hermione's mother to Daphne's life as an Earl's daughter. But Hermione always made sure she never allowed her most guarded secret to escape her; no matter how much wine she drank.

They had a short dinner and then settled back into a comfortable silence. Suddenly, Daphne turned to Hermione and stared at her.

"I like you, Professor." Daphne muttered in her drunken stupor, immediately causing Hermione to sober up.

Daphne continued, unshaken by her drinking partner's reaction. "I was always attracted to your intelligence, so I decided to become closer to you by becoming your protégé. Somewhere along the way, I started to enjoy your work as much as I enjoyed being with you. But, I still like you, more than anyone else; more than ever before."

Hermione remained frozen in her seat, giving Daphne the opportunity to lean over and plant a smooch on her cheek.

"I'll sleep on the couch for the night, Professor. I do not think I will be able to safely make my way back to my room." Daphne rose up from her spot on the floor, strode over to Hermione's couch, and collapsed onto it in a drunken mess.

Hermione still hadn't moved since she felt Daphne's soft lips on her cheek. Slowly, she raised her hand up to her cheek and caressed it; as if to preserve the warmth left behind.

Unable to comprehend what to do about the kiss, Hermione crawled into her bed and attempted to fall asleep. But thoughts of the kiss and its implications invaded her mind. She worried about Daphne's reaction when she came to know of her secret; about Ronald Weasley's comments many months ago; about how Daphne's father – the Earl of Kimberley, would react; about how her own father would react; and about the fact that she may or may not have liked the kiss.

As sleep finally took over her mind nearly an hour later, she realized that she had completely overlooked the detail that they both were women.

Chapter 2 (the final chapter) will be up within the next few days.

Please let me know what you think in a review. I really appreciate those.