El Jamila

Chapter 1

Hermione apparated to just outside the house's main gate and right into the middle of a herd of goats. There was no shepherd to obliviate, so she made her way up the path to the front door. She had known the family for whom she was to teach English this summer was wealthy, but she was still surprised to see the apparent size of the estate and the size of the, for lack of a better word, house.

The family name was Soumali and the children were 10 and 12 years old, both girls. Their father, Ayoob, was the Moroccan equivalent of the Director of the Department of Mysteries and their mother was a professor of Advanced Muggle Studies at the Moroccan School of Magic, El Jami'a. Aside from that she didn't know much about them except they were good friends of Minerva McGonagall's.

She had decided to leave her job at the Ministry and take the next few years off to travel and just savor life. Her parents were anxious that she keep her job and settle down- they had not known the day to day dangers of the war, but they knew that now she was safe they wanted to keep her that way. At 25 she would have expected to be well-employed or busy in a rewarding apprenticeship but the toll of the war had forced her to slow down, first by delaying her completion at Hogwarts, the demands of the war against Voldemort, and then, with a new set of priorities. Her desire to leave England and her friends had taken her by surprise but the curiosity of what else the world held was overwhelming and for a curious creature like Hermione it promised to be the next great challenge. She could not wait another day to begin.

Her former Head of House, now the Headmistress of Hogwarts and a close friend whom she called "Minerva," had recommended her friends the Soumali's who had been hosting English students in their home during the summer to teach their children English. Hermione at first had balked at the idea, she was seeking freedom and adventure after all, not the responsibility of teaching two children. Pragmatism won out, though, and she realized that spending the summer in Morocco would prepare her French for the journey into Africa and wherever else that might lead.

She knocked on the ornate wooden door. It had appeared much better kept from a distance, as she waited for an answer she took the time to look at the building. The door was very beautiful but was very old. The stone of the building looked even older and some of the smooth façade had crumbled off; whole blocks had disintegrated with age and left pock marks on the tan surface. The sun was so bright it cast blacker than black shadows in the holes. She stood very close to the door in a futile effort to stand in what little shade was available at noon just south of Casablanca in June.

The door opened suddenly, releasing a gust of cool air but she gasped instead at whom she saw.

"Miss Granger."

She stumbled backwards in a shocked attempt to let him pass.

"Pr… Pro…Professor Snape?"

He was already far enough down the walk to pretend he couldn't hear her. She continued to gape open-mouthed for about a minute watching the tall figure dressed entirely in black walk down a path beside the house. She watched his silhouette until it blinked in the glare off the ocean and he disappeared over the hill.

She knew that he had been cleared of his apparent murder of her beloved headmaster, but she hadn't been this near to him since she was in her sixth year at Hogwarts. He had, with evidence left by Dumbledore, been able to convince the remaining leaders of the Order that he was still working with them, and his placement in Voldemort's network had been invaluable, but Harry still hated him and his contact with the Order had been limited to communications with Remus, Minerva, Hagrid, and Draco, until he was killed. She still felt an irrational bitterness towards him, for both his role in Dumbledore's death and his treatment of herself and her friends as their teacher. But she also felt very clearly, awe and admiration. He had risked his life to destroy Voldemort, with devotion none but Harry could claim and she selfishly wanted to hear the stories he had to tell. He had received in private his Order of Merlin, First Class and disappeared into seclusion. All information about what he had experienced and accomplished came from the three members of the Order who could still reach him and Death Eaters as they were brought for trial. She shivered, inexplicably in the hot sun, when she thought of Narcissa's account of the death of her brother-in-law by Snape's wand. And she wondered why Minerva did not tell her Snape was here. Surely she knew?

"Miss Granger?"

Hermione's hand had been taken and she looked down into the glittering black eyes of the beautiful young girl who had taken it. They smiled at each other and the girl continued in melodic, accented English. "My Uncle Severus said that he knows you and that we are very lucky that you come to teach us. My name is Souhair. My sister and Fatima make lunch so I help you to your room."

To Hermione's surprise the girl produced a wand and uttered a spell in Arabic. Hermione's bag levitated off the ground and the girl led, first Hermione by the hand, followed by the bag, bouncing with the same gait as the girl.

Hermione's mind raced with questions for the young girl and decided on the simplest.

"You are allowed to do magic? Out of school?"

Souhair laughed, a tinkling, delighted laugh that made Hermione laugh herself.

"Yes! All of our English teachers ask the same thing first! I am so glad to grow up in this country, I think. We are not, how do you say? We should not?" She looked at Hermione before she continued. Hermione nodded. "We should not do magic before we are in school but our parents want us to be the best. Firdaus finished her first year. I will start in September."

At the top of the large stair they made a left and continued. They made a few more turns and Hermione got the feeling that she should have been paying closer attention to the route they were taking to her room.

"Erm, this is such a lovely house, but it is awfully big. Is your room nearby?"

"Oh no! This side of the house is for guests. A left there," Souhair gestured to the right turn they had just made, "would take you to where Uncle Severus stays. He said you want to be in our part of the house. But I think he does not like to share." She giggled again and Hermione wondered at the tiny girl giggling at her "Uncle Severus'" expense. It seemed awfully dangerous to Hermione, but she couldn't help smiling back.

They entered a huge room with large windows magically shaded against the sun and softly billowing curtains. There was a huge four-poster bed she would need a stair to crawl into and she could see a swimming pool sized bath in the next room, flooded with soft light. Her balcony looked out over a precipice to the beach below and she saw a figure in black reclined in the shade of the cliffs, looking out at the water.

"Come meet my family!"