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Chapter Text

"Hermione Granger." called Professor McGonagall.

Hermione hurried up to the Sorting Hat, and placed it on her head, careful not to ruin her curls. She had used a special spell to tame them and look acceptable.

Hmmm. Very unique. A mind quite unlike any muggleborns. You seem to have a hatred for your parents! That's new. But where to place you? I know! SLYTHERIN!

Hermione walked down primly and took her seat next to a blonde boy and a pretty black haired girl. Across from her was a dark boy, and next to him was a blonde girl and a black haired boy.

"I'm Draco." the blonde boy said.

"Blaise." said the dark boy.

The black haired girl was Pansy, the blonde girl was Daphne, and the black haired boy was Theo.

"I'm Hermione." she smiled.

"That's a nice name." said Pansy.

Two brutish looking boys joined them.

"This is Crabbe," said Draco gesturing to the one on the left, "and Goyle."

Albus Dumbledore had gotten to his feet. He was beaming at the students, his arms opened wide, as if nothing could have pleased him more than to see them all there.

"Welcome," he said. "Welcome to a new year at Hogwarts! Before we begin our banquet, I would like to say a few words. And here they are: Nitwit! Blubber! Oddment! Tweak!

"Thank you!"

He sat back down. Everybody clapped and cheered except for the Slytherins, and Hermione looked at him uncertainly.

"Is he mad?" she inquired.

"No, just odd. Potatoes?" said Blaise.

Hermione's mouth fell open. The dishes in front of her were now piled with food. She had never seen so many things she liked to eat on one table: roast beef, roast chicken, pork chops and lamb chops, sausages, bacon and steak, boiled potatoes, roast potatoes, fries, Yorkshire pudding, peas, carrots, gravy, ketchup, and, for some strange reason, peppermint humbugs.

"Why are peppermint humbugs on the table?" she asked.

"Dumbledore likes them." said Daphne, taking a dainty bite of her beef.

A pearly ghost covered in blood and chains rose next to them.

"Welcome to Slytherin." he stated in a mournful tune before floating away, and Hermione stared.

"Never seen a ghost?" Theo teased.

"No actually, never." she fidgeted, looking down and taking a bite of her pork chops.

When everyone had eaten as much as they could, the remains of the food faded from the plates, leaving them sparkling clean as before. A moment later the desserts appeared. Blocks of ice cream in every flavor you could think of, apple pies, treacle tarts, chocolate eclairs and jam doughnuts, trifle, strawberries, Jell-O, rice pudding…

Hermione took a treacle tart and turned to the conversation, which was about Draco's family. Apparently they breeded rare creatures, and his father owned the world's only albino peacocks.

At last, the desserts too disappeared, and Professor Dumbledore got to his feet again. The hall fell silent.

"Ahem - just a few more words now that we are all fed and watered. I have a few start-of-term notices to give you.

"First years should note that the forest on the grounds is forbidden to all pupils. And a few of our older students would do well to remember that as well."

Dumbledore's twinkling eyes flashed in the direction of two redheads at the Gryffindor table.

"I have also been asked by Mr. Filch, the caretaker, to remind you all that no magic should be used between classes in the corridors.

"Quidditch trials will be held in the second week of the term. Anyone interested in playing for their house teams should contact Madam Hooch.

"And finally, I must tell you that this year, the third-floor corridor on the right-hand side is out of bounds to everyone who does not wish to die a very painful death."

"And now, before we go to bed, let us sing the school song!" cried Dumbledore. Hermione noticed that the other teachers' smiles had become rather fixed.

Dumbledore gave his wand a little flick, as if he was trying to get a fly off the end, and a long golden ribbon flew out of it, which rose high above the tables and twisted itself, snakelike, into words.

"Everyone pick their favorite tune," said Dumbledore, "and off we go!"

And the school bellowed:

"Hogwarts, Hogwarts, Hoggy Warty Hogwarts,

Teach us something please,

Whether we be old and bald

Or young with scabby knees,

Our heads could do with filling

With some interesting stuff,

For now they're bare and full of air,

Dead flies and bits of fluff,

So teach us things worth knowing,

Bring back what we've forgot, just do your best, we'll do the rest,

And learn until our brains all rot."

Everybody finished the song at different times. At last, only the two redheads, who Hermione had learned were the Weasley Twins, were left singing along to a very slow funeral march. Dumbledore conducted their last few lines with his wand and when they had finished, he was one of those who clapped loudest.

"Ah, music," he said, wiping his eyes. "A magic beyond all we do here! And now, bedtime. Off you trot!"

"Are we horses?" Daphne muttered, and Hermione giggled.

The Slytherin First Years followed a boy named Elan Parkinson down the winding staircases to the dungeons, where he stopped in front of a plain wall.

"Serpens." he said, and the wall slid open, revealing the dungeons.

The Slytherin common room was a long, low underground room with rough stone walls and ceiling from which round, greenish lamps were hanging on chains. A fire was crackling under an elaborately carved mantelpiece ahead of them, and several Slytherins were silhouetted around it in high-backed chairs.

"Hello." said Parkinson. "I'm Elan Parkinson, the fifth year prefect. Next to me is my counterpart, Jessie Hooper. Our sixth years are Camelia Fudge and Harrison Carrow. Our seventh year prefects are Kayla Mulciber and Antony Stevens."

Kayla picked up. "I want everyone to say their name for me."

"Draco Malfoy."

"Blaise Zabini."

"Pansy Parkinson."

"Daphne Greengrass."

"Theodore Nott."

"Tracy Davis." said a petite brunette.

"Crabbe"

"Goyle"

"Millicent Bulstrode." grunted a girl who resembled Crabbe and Goyle.

"Hermione Granger."

"Granger?" frowned a 3rd year. "That's not a name I've heard."

"It's not." said Hermione, taking a deep breath. "I'm a muggleborn."

Instead of the outburst she expected, there was silence.

"Well now you're Slytherin's muggleborn." said Antony. "Rule 1 of Slytherin is we protect our own. I'll call Professor Snape just to be sure."

Five minutes later a dark haired pale man with sallow skin and greasy hair walked in.

"I hear we have a muggleborn in our house." he said in a silky tone. "Tell me why you deserve to be in our house."

Hermione frowned. "You want me to tell you my private life and feelings?"

Snape looked surprised for a fraction of a second before smoothing his face down. "In a way."

"My name is Hermione Granger. When I was six, I learned that I could move things with my mind. In my world, it's magic, and I could only dream about it. I sought to control it, and in a year, I could. I was so excited." Hermione laughed bitterly. "I ran down to my parents and showed them. But instead of awe or joy, I only saw fear."

Some Slytherin's faces flashed with sympathy.

"I quickly learned that they were scared, and I lost the only support I had. In primary school, I was known as a bushy haired buck-toothed beaver. My parents had been the only people I could go to, but I lost them. Even when I got my Hogwarts letter, they spent hours trying to get me to give it up. Be normal, they said."

Hermione's eyes flashed with anger.

"What they didn't seem to understand is that magic is a part of my, just as much as my eyes and ears. Even if I had a choice, I would never get rid of it. I hid for years after that, seeking refuge in books. When I found that I could come here, I lept at the chance. I want to prove to my parents that they were wrong. That they were wrong to push me away, that they should never have been scared. Honestly, I'd much rather be a witch than a muggleborn, and I want nothing to do with that world."

Hermione took a deep breath and looked around, hoping for acceptance. She found it. She saw pity, sympathy, kindness, and even pride in Professor Snape's face.

"Well done." he said. "I believe that you have been accepted into Slytherin.

"Thank you." Hermione smiled, and Draco grinned at her.

"Ok." said Harrison, breaking the silence. "To bed!"

Hermione walked to the dorm, and she took her hair out of the spell. Her hair popped back into a frizzy mess.

"Whoa." said Pansy. "Your hair!"

"Yeah." Hermione sighed. "I had to use a spell to tame it."

"I have some taming shampoo you could borrow." offered Daphne.

"I'd love to borrow it." Hermione smiled. Pulling on a ratty purple t-shirt and a pair of shorts, she tied her hair up.

"Don't you have anything better?" sneered Tracy Davis, who was in a silky silver nightie.

"These are comfortable." said Hermione shrugging, before she closed the curtains around her.

"Lay off." she heard Millicent say in an annoyed voice.

Slowly, Hermione drifted to sleep.

Chapter Text

Hermione woke up to a bucket of water in her face. Spluttering, she sat up to see Pansy smirking at her, while Tracy Davis came out of the shower.

"Why did you do that?"

"Because you need to wake up. We only have an hour."

"That's a lot of time." she pointed out.

"True, but Slytherin's all go down together." Pansy pointed out.

Grumbling, Hermione swung herself out of bed and dragged herself into the shower. Using the shampoo Daphne gave her, she dried it magically with a spell she read about.

"Ready?" Daphne called.

"Ready." she smiled, pulling on her green lined robes and tie.

"Push your hair back with something." recommended Pansy.

"I don't have anything." Hermione blushed.

"Here," said Pansy, "You can use my head band."

Hermione tucked the green headband into her chestnut curls. They were her pride, and were dark brown with light brown interspersed in it.

"Ready." said Elan Parkinson, and all the Slytherin's marched down to breakfast.

There were a hundred and forty-two staircases at Hogwarts: wide, sweeping ones; narrow, rickety ones; some that led somewhere different on a Friday; some with a vanishing step halfway up that you had to remember to jump. Then there were doors that wouldn't open unless you asked politely, or tickled them in exactly the right place, and doors that weren't really doors at all, but solid walls just pretending. It was also very hard to remember where anything was, because it all seemed to move around a lot. The people in the portraits kept going to visit each other, and Hermione was sure the coats of armor could walk.

The ghosts didn't help, either. It was always a nasty shock when one of them glided suddenly through a door you were trying to open. Nearly Headless Nick was always happy to point new Gryffindors in the right direction, but he would ignore all Slytherins. Peeves the Poltergeist was worth two locked doors and a trick staircase if you met him when you were late for class. He would drop wastepaper baskets on your head, pull rugs from under your feet, pelt you with bits of chalk, or sneak up behind you, invisible, grab your nose, and screech, "GOT YOUR CONK!"

Even worse than Peeves, if that was possible, was the caretaker, Argus Filch. Filch owned a cat called Mrs. Norris, a scrawny, dust-colored creature with bulging, lamp like eyes just like Filch's. She patrolled the corridors alone. Break a rule in front of her, put just one toe out of line, and she'd whisk off for Filch, who'd appear, wheezing, two seconds later. Filch knew the secret passageways of the school better than anyone (except perhaps the Weasley twins) and could pop up as suddenly as any of the ghosts. The students all hated him, and it was the dearest ambition of many to give Mrs. Norris a good kick.

All in all, this was the best school Hermione had ever attended.

Sitting down for breakfast with her friends from last night, she pulled a bowl of oatmeal and fruit to her.

"You didn't tell us you were a muggleborn!" accused Draco.

"I didn't think it would matter." she said lightly.

"It doesn't," he reassured her, "but it would have been nice to know from one of my friends." Hermione dropped her spoon.

"We're friends?" she said tentatively.

"Yup!" said Blaise cheerfully, reaching over for syrup on his pancakes.

"I've never had friends before." she murmured.

"Never?" said Pansy.

"Never." she replied.

"That's sad." said Crabbe. Hermione was surprised he could speak.

"We'll have to fix that then!" Draco said cheerfully, and Hermione smiled.

"Come on." said Pansy. "Time for charms."

Professor Flitwick, the Charms teacher, was a tiny little wizard who had to stand on a pile of books to see over his desk. At the start of their first class he took the roll call, and when he reached Harry's name he gave an excited squeak and toppled out of sight.

"Who's that?" Hermione whispered to Theo, gesturing to a skinny black haired boy with glasses

"That's Harry Potter." he replied.

"Why did Flitwick seem so excited at him?"

"Don't you know?" he stared. "He saved the world from the Dark Lord, who was set on killing all muggles. Unfortunately, the light side botched it up and said he wanted to kill muggleborns too. He didn't believe in that, but you had to give up the muggle world completely."

"Come on!" said Draco. "To Transfiguration!"

Professor McGonagall was again different. "Transfiguration is some of the most complex and dangerous magic you will learn at Hogwarts," she said. "Anyone messing around in my class will leave and not come back. You have been warned."

Then she changed her desk into a pig and back again. They were all very impressed and couldn't wait to get started, but soon realized they weren't going to be changing the furniture into animals for a long time. After taking a lot of complicated notes, they were each given a match and started trying to turn it into a needle. By the end of the lesson, only a few Slytherins and one Gryffindor did anything. Lily Moon, Gryffindor, made hers pointy and silver. Hermione had the needle shape and it was silver, but it was made of wood still. Draco's was silver and metal, but in the shape of a match.

The class everyone had really been looking forward to was Defense Against the Dark Arts, but Quirrell's lessons turned out to be a bit of a joke. His classroom smelled strongly of garlic, which everyone said was to ward off a vampire he'd met in Romania and was afraid would be coming back to get him one of these days. His turban, he told them, had been given to him by an African prince as a thank-you for getting rid of a troublesome zombie, but they weren't sure they believed this story. For one thing, when Seamus Finnigan, Gryffindor, asked eagerly to hear how Quirrell had fought off the zombie, Quirrell went pink and started talking about the weather; for another, they had noticed that a funny smell hung around the turban, and the Carrow Twins insisted that it was stuffed with garlic.

Flora and Hestia Carrow, in their third year, were Slytherin's version of the Weasley Twins, but they were sneakier.

Hermione was very relieved to find out that she wasn't miles behind everyone else. Lots of people had come from Muggle families and, like her, hadn't had any idea that they were witches and wizards.

"What have we got today?" Blaise asked Hermione as she poured sugar on her porridge.

Before Hermione could answer, Pansy interrupted her." You boys!" she screeched. "I see no fruits or vegetables on your plates." she glared at Draco, Theo, Blaise, Crabbe, and Goyle.

"Do you all want to be fat?" she demanded.

"No mother." Draco muttered, and she threw a scathing glare at him before promptly ignoring him.

"Anyway," said Hermione, "We have Double Potions with the Gryffindors. Flora and Hestia told me that he favors us, so we should be all right."

"Yes!" Draco pumped his fist in the air.

"What?" said Daphne.

"Snape's my godfather, so he has to give us preferential treatment." he boasted.

"Excellent." Blaise smirked.

"But isn't that cheating?" said Hermione uncertainly.

"NO." Theo told her. "We only use advantages given to us."

"Ok." she relented.

Just then, the mail arrived. Hermione had gotten used to this by now, but it had given her a bit of a shock on the first morning, when about a hundred owls had suddenly streamed into the Great Hall during breakfast, circling the tables until they saw their owners, and dropping letters and packages onto their laps.

Artemis, her owl, hadn't brought Hermione anything so far. She sometimes flew in to nibble his ear and have a bit of toast before going off to sleep in the owlery with the other school owls. This morning, however, she fluttered down between the marmalade and the sugar bowl and dropped a note onto Hermione's tore it open at once. It said, in a very untidy scrawl:

Dear Hermione,

Don't bother coming home for Christmas or Easter. We don't want to be near the magic.

-Mother and Father

Hermione felt tears pooling in her eyes.

"What's wrong?" Blaise asked, concerned for his friend.

"My parents." she answered honestly. "Don't come home, they said. Don't want to be near magic. I wrote them a heartfelt letter about magic and they don't even care." she chuckled bitterly, and wiped away a tear. She thought of the letter she had written.

Dear Mother and Father,

I know we don't get along well but I was hoping that you guys could try to understand magic a little. The classes are amazing! We have moving staircases and talking portraits. I was sorted into Slytherin, one of the houses, by the sorting hat.

-Hermione

"It's all right." Daphne consoled her.

"It's not alright." she sniped. "My parents hate me and don't accept me for who I am."

"I could ask my parents if I could invite you home for Christmas." Draco offered.

"I wouldn't want to impose."

"Nonsense! I will write father and mother right away." he said flippantly.

Hermione noticed all her friends opening packages.

"What are those?" she asked curiously.

"For purebloods, on the first Friday of the school year, our parents send us a gift saying they approve of our sorting. If they don't, we usually stay home for Christmas." Draco explained.

Hermione was about to say something, but was cut off by Pansy's squeal. In her hands was a drop dead gorgeous emerald necklace, with a large stone in the middle.

"Look!" she gushed.

"It's beautiful." Hermione complemented, trying not to feel a pang in her heart.

Daphne pulled out a beautiful set of emerald green robes, and Draco had a box of sweets. Crabbe and Goyle each got a box of food, while Theo got a stack of books. Blaise got a letter and a ring.

"My heir ring!" he exclaimed, staring at it in awe.

"What?" Pansy shrieked, elbowing Theo aside to look at it.

"Watch out woman!" he grumbled.

"What's so special about an heir ring?" Hermione asked.

"This ring means that when my mother dies, I will take over the family fortune. Most people don't get this until they are 17." said Blaise.

"Blaise is lucky too." informed Daphne. "His mother is one of the richest witches in the world."

"Anastasia Zabini." said Pansy. "The Black Widow."

"Come on!" said Goyle. "Potions."

"They can speak?" whispered Hermione teasingly.

"Yes we can." Crabbe grunted, and giggling, Hermione walked to Potions.

Potions lessons took place down in one of the dungeons. It was colder here than up in the main castle, and would have been quite creepy enough without the pickled animals floating in glass jars all around the walls.

Snape, like Flitwick, started the class by taking the roll call, and like Flitwick, he paused at Harry's name.

"Ah, Yes," he said softly, "Harry Potter. Our new - celebrity."

Draco, Crabbe, and Goyle snickered, while Hermione watched him in rapture. This was the lesson she looked forward to the most.

"You are here to learn the subtle science and exact art of potionmaking," he began. He spoke in barely more than a whisper, but they caught every word - like Professor McGonagall, Snape had the gift of keeping a class silent without effort. "As there is little foolish wand-waving here, many of you will hardly believe this is magic. I don't expect you will really understand the beauty of the softly simmering cauldron with its shimmering fumes, the delicate power of liquids that creep through human veins, bewitching the mind, ensnaring the senses... I can teach you how to bottle fame, brew glory, even stopper death - if you aren't as big a bunch of dunderheads as I usually have to teach."

More silence followed his little speech. "Potter!" said Snape suddenly. "What would I get if I added powdered root of asphodel to an infusion of wormwood?" Lily Moon shot her hand up.

Hermione started to raise her hand, but Theo tugged it down.

"But I know the answer!" she hissed.

"It doesn't matter. Don't act like a swot. If he wants you to raise your hand, he will ask. This is addressed to Potter."

"Fine." Hermione relented, easing her hand down.

"I don't know, sir," said Harry.

Snape's lips curled into a sneer.

"Tut, tut - fame clearly isn't everything."

He ignored Moon's hand.

"Let's try again. Potter, where would you look if I told you to find me a bezoar?"

Lily stretched her hand as high into the air as it would go without her leaving her seat, but Harry didn't have the faintest idea what a bezoar was. Draco, Crabbe, and Goyle shook with silent laughter, and even Hermione chuckled. This was basic!

"I don't know, sir."

"Thought you wouldn't open a book before coming, eh, Potter?"

Snape was still ignoring Lily's quivering hand.

"What is the difference, Potter, between monkshood and wolfsbane?"

At this, Lily stood up, her hand stretching toward the dungeon ceiling.

"I don't know," said Harry quietly. "I think Lily does, though, why don't you try her?"

Hermione stared at his audacity.

"Sit down," he snapped at Lily. "Can anyone tell me the answer?"

At this, Theo nodded, and Hermione raised her hand.

"Granger?"

"Asphodel and wormwood make a sleeping potion so powerful it is known as the Draught of Living Death. A bezoar is a stone taken from the stomach of a goat and it will save you from most poisons. As for monkshood and wolfsbane, they are the same plant, which also goes by the name of aconite." she recited.

"Excellent." he praised. "Clearly not everyone is a dunderhead. That will be 15 points to Slytherin. Everyone write this down. And one point will be taken from Gryffindor for your cheek Potter."

Soon they were starting on the boil cure potion. Hermione read through her book. She had bought a special edition with hints, and why you did what.

Crush the phosphorus beans, don't cut them, because it lets more juice out.

When Theo was about to cut the beans, she stopped him.

"Crush them." she instructed.

"Why?" he asked blankly.

"It lets more juice out."

He did as instructed, and immediately the potion turned the bright orange it was supposed to be.

"Add three horned slugs, not two. And add an extra pinch of knotgrass."

"Why?"

"Horned Slugs slime are what the main ingredient is in curing boils. It will be better if you add an extra, but to stop it from being explosive, you add knotgrass to balance it."

Theo did that, and grinned as the potion turned lilac. Hermione stirred, and soon it was dark green. She took the cauldron off the fire, and added Porcupine quills. After adding a pinch of nettle grass, the potion was done, and was at it's perfect shade of , meanwhile, was sweeping around the dungeon criticizing all the Gryffindors.

He was just telling everyone to look at the perfect way Malfoy had stewed his horned slugs when clouds of acid green smoke and a loud hissing filled the dungeon. Neville Longbottom had somehow managed to melt Seamus's cauldron into a twisted blob, and their potion was seeping across the stone floor, burning holes in people's shoes. Within seconds, the whole class was standing on their stools while Neville, who had been drenched in the potion when the cauldron collapsed, moaned in pain as angry red boils sprang up all over his arms and legs.

"Idiot boy!" snarled Snape, clearing the spilled potion away with one wave of his wand. "I suppose you added the porcupine quills before taking the cauldron off the fire?"

Neville whimpered as boils started to pop up all over his nose.

"Take him up to the hospital wing," Snape spat at Seamus. Then he rounded on Harry and Ron, who had been working next to Neville.

"You - Potter - why didn't you tell him not to add the quills? Thought he'd make you look good if he got it wrong, did you? That's another point you've lost for Gryffindor."

Draco giggled, and Hermione opened her mouth to protest, before Theo hit her with a silencing charm. She glared at him, and he took it off.

"That's unfair!" she ranted. "Why didn't you let me protest?"

"Because it gives Slytherin an advantage." he said.

"But it's unfair."

"It doesn't matter. Besides, they deserve it."

Hermione muttered under her breath before taking the potion and bottling it, keeping a vial for herself. Snape swept around, looking at their potions. None of them were as good as her's and Theo's. He looked at them strangely.

"Miss Granger and Mr Nott, stay after class."

After class was over they packed up and lingered.

"I have never seen a potion this good, and I noticed that you added knotgrass, even though it isn't an ingredient. Why?" he asked.

"It was me." said Hermione, bowing her head.

"Mr Nott, you can leave."

Theo rushed out with a smile at her.

"Why did you add the knotgrass Granger?"

Hermione blushed, before looking up at his scrutinizing stare. "I got some extra potion books and learned about what each ingredient does, and why it is added to what potion. After that, I went with my logic. Instead of adding two horned slugs I added three, because that makes the potion more potent. It would explode if I added the porcupine quills after, but to balance the slugs out, I added knotgrass, which is known to balance out potions."

Hermione fidgeted. Why didn't he say anything?

"25 points to Slytherin Granger." he said finally. Hermione looked up in shock.

"What?"

"I have never seen a student change a potion so deftly and make it work. If you would like, I am offering extra potion lessons every Thursday after dinner."

Hermione could have jumped for joy, but she kept her mien. "I would love to sir."

After leaving the room and going to dinner, she was bombarded with questions.

"Why did he ask you to stay behind?" Blaise asked.

"I changed the potion." Hermione admitted.

"But that's dangerous!" said Draco with wide eyes.

"I know, but I had read up and I was balancing it out and it worked and I got 25 points and lessons with Snape!" she said in a rush.

"Wow." said Daphne. "That's rare."

"Guys!" said Pansy, calling them over. "Look at this!" She showed them a cut from the Daily Prophet.

GRINGOTTS BREAK-IN LATEST

By Aurora Smitha

Investigations continue into the break-in at Gringotts on 31 July, widely believed to be the work of Dark wizards or witches unknown.

Gringotts goblins today insisted that nothing had been taken. The vault that was searched had in fact been emptied the same day.

"But we're not telling you what was in there, so keep your noses out if you know what's good for you," said a Gringotts spokesgoblin this afternoon.

"Someone broke into Gringotts?" said Blaise.

"No duh." sniped Pansy.

Back in the common room Crabbe pulled them over to the bulletin board.

"Look!" he grunted. "Flying lessons!"

"Excellent!" said Pansy.

"I've been flying since I was three." bragged Draco.

"Is it hard?" said Hermione uncertainly.

"Of course not!" said Draco, who loved Quidditch.

"Come on!" said Daphne. "We can get some brooms from the older students and teach you!"

Getting a bunch of Cleansweep 750's, the group ran outside.

"Ok Hermione." Draco instructed, taking control. "Say UP to the broom. You want to be confident and pull your magic to the broom."

"UP!" said Hermione. It didn't come up.

"UP!" she said more forcefully, tugging at her magic, and it flew up.

"I did it!" she exclaimed.

"Good." praised Draco. "Now kick off from the ground hard, and try hovering. When you can hover, tilt left to go left and right to go right. To accelerate, lean forward. To slow down, pull back."

"Kind of like riding a horse." Hermione mused.

Slowly, she pushed up off the ground. Inhaling sharply, she stopped and balanced herself, before accelerating a little. Up, down, to the left, down, to the right, up.

"This is rather fun!" said Hermione.

"I know." said Pansy, as they put away the brooms. "You probably would have been scared to death if you learned from Hooch, because according to Elan, she doesn't teach well. Now we can practice and learn. You could actually get on the team!"

"Maybe." chuckled Hermione. "I probably would have been scared to death of brooms if she taught me."

"Definitely." Daphne said, rolling her eyes.

Chapter Text

"Oh look!" Pansy exclaimed one day at breakfast. "Longbottom's got a remembrall!"

"Come on, let's look at it." said Draco. He had never seen a remembrall before.

Passing the table, Draco snatched it from Longbottom's hand and looked at it. Potter and Weasley jumped to their feet. They were half hoping for a reason to fight Draco, but Professor McGonagall, who could spot trouble quicker than any teacher in the school, was there in a flash.

"What's going on?"

"Malfoy's got my Remembrall, Professor."

Scowling, Draco quickly dropped the Remembrall back on the table.

"Just looking." he muttered, walking away.

At three-thirty that afternoon, Hermione, Pansy, and the other Slytherins hurried down the front steps onto the grounds for their first flying lesson. It was a clear, breezy day, and the grass rippled under their feet as they marched down the sloping lawns toward a smooth, flat lawn on the opposite side of the grounds to the forbidden forest, whose trees were swaying darkly in the distance.

The Gryffindor were already there, and so were twenty broomsticks lying in neat lines on the ground. Hermione had heard Flora and Hestia Carrow complain about the school brooms, saying that some of them started to vibrate if you flew too high, or always flew slightly to the left.

Their teacher, Madam Hooch, arrived. She had short, gray hair, and yellow eyes like a hawk.

"Well, what are you all waiting for?" she barked. "Everyone stand by a broomstick. Come on, hurry up."

Hermione glanced down at her broom. It was old and some of the twigs stuck out at odd angles. Seriously? Even the poorest Slytherins had better brooms than these.

"Stick out your right hand over your broom," called Madam Hooch at the front, "and say 'Up!'"

"UP" everyone shouted.

Hermione's broom jumped into her hand at once, but it was one of the few that did. It was because she knew how. Lily Moon's had simply rolled over on the ground, and Neville's hadn't moved at all. Perhaps brooms, like horses, could tell when you were afraid, thought Hermione; there was a quaver in Neville's voice that said only too clearly that he wanted to keep his feet on the ground. Scaredy cat.

Madam Hooch then showed them how to mount their brooms without sliding off the end, and walked up and down the rows correcting their grips. Potter and Weasley were delighted when she told Dracohe'd been doing it wrong for years; Hermione glared at them.

"Now, when I blow my whistle, you kick off from the ground, hard," said Madam Hooch. "Keep your brooms steady, rise a few feet, and then come straight back down by leaning forward slightly. On my whistle - three - two-"

But Neville, nervous and jumpy and frightened of being left on the ground, pushed off hard before the whistle had touched Madam Hooch's lips.

"Come back, boy!" she shouted, but Neville was rising straight up like a cork shot out of a bottle - twelve feet - twenty saw his scared white face look down at the ground falling away, saw him gasp, slip sideways off the broom and -

WHAM - a thud and a nasty crack and Neville lay facedown on the grass in a heap. His broomstick was still rising higher and higher, and started to drift lazily toward the forbidden forest and out of sight.

Madam Hooch was bending over Neville, her face as white as his.

"Broken wrist," Hermione heard her mutter. "Come on, boy - it's all right, up you get."

She turned to the rest of the class.

"None of you is to move while I take this boy to the hospital wing! You leave those brooms where they are or you'll be out of Hogwarts before you can say 'Quidditch.' Come on, dear."

Neville, his face tear-streaked, clutching his wrist, hobbled off with Madam Hooch, who had her arm around him.

No sooner were they out of earshot than Draco burst into laughter.

"Did you see his face, the great lump?"

The other Slytherins joined in. Even Hermione giggled. It wasn't that hard!

"Shut up, Malfoy," snapped Parvati Patil.

"Ooh, sticking up for Longbottom?" said Pansy. "Never thought you'd like fat little crybabies, Parvati."

"Look!" said Draco, darting forward and snatching something out of the grass. "It's that stupid thing Longbottom's gran sent him."

The Remembrall glittered in the sun as he held it up.

"Give that here, Draco," said Potter quietly. Everyone stopped talking to watch.

Draco smiled nastily.

"I think I'll leave it somewhere for Longbottom to find - how about - up a tree?"

"Give it here!" Potter yelled, but Draco had leapt onto his broomstick and taken off. He hadn't been lying, he could fly well. Hovering level with the topmost branches of an oak he called, "Come and get it, Potter!"

Harry grabbed his broom.

"No!" shouted Lily Moon. "Madam Hooch told us not to move - you'll get us all into trouble."

Harry ignored her. He mounted the broom and kicked hard against the ground and up, up he soared; air rushed through his hair, and his robes whipped out behind him - on the ground Gryffindor girls gasped, while Weasley whooped. Hermione just glared. Why did he have to do that?

He turned his broomstick sharply to face Draco in midair. Draco looked stunned. He was not ready to face someone head on.

"Give it here," Harry called, "or I'll knock you off that broom!"

"Oh, yeah?" said Draco, trying to sneer, but looking worried.

Potter shot at Draco like a javelin, almost knocking him off. Hermione gasped.

"No Crabbe and Goyle up here to save your neck, Malfoy," Harry called.

The same thought seemed to have struck Draco.

"Catch it if you can, then!" he shouted, and he threw the glass ball high into the air and streaked back toward the ground.

Potter dove down towards the ball, scooping it up near the grass and landing.

"HARRY POTTER!"

McGonagall was running towards them, and Hermione grinned maliciously. Now he would get in trouble for trying to hurt another student.

"Never - in all my time at Hogwarts-"

Professor McGonagall was almost speechless with shock, and her glasses flashed furiously, " - how dare you - might have broken your neck-"

"It wasn't his fault, Professor-"

"Be quiet, Miss Patil-"

"But Draco-"

"That's enough, Mr. Weasley. Potter, follow me, now."

"Idiot." Draco snorted once they were out of earshot, and Hermione laughed with them.

Soon, Madame Hooch came back.

"Good! Everyone mount your brooms and float up. If you can, turn a little, but go higher so you don't disturb the others."

Hermione mounted and shot up, not like Potter had, but not slow.

"Excellent." Daphne praised.

"Here," said Draco, "let's have a little fun. Follow me!"

He dove down, and Hermione followed, though not as fast, she pulled up slowly and carefully near the bottom, stopping near Draco.

"That was fun!" she exclaimed.

"I know." he replied smugly.

At dinner the group saw Potter and Weasley conversing with smiles emblazoned on their faces.

"Come on." Hermione urged. "Let's go see what happened."

"Having a last meal, Potter? When are you getting the train back to the Muggles?" Draco sneered as he strutted up with Vincent, Greg, Hermione, Pansy, Theo, Blaise, and Daphne.

"You're a lot braver now that you're back on the ground and you've got your little friends with you," said Harry coolly. There was of course nothing at all little about Crabbe and Goyle, but as the High Table was full of teachers, neither of them could do more than crack their knuckles and scowl.

"I'd take you on anytime on my own," said Malfoy. "Tonight, if you want. Wizard's duel. Wands only - no contact. What's the matter? Never heard of a wizard's duel before, I suppose?"

"Of course he has," said Ron, wheeling around. "I'm his second, who's yours?"

Draco surveyed them carefully before looking at Blaise, who was the best at spells among them. "Blaise." he declared. Midnight all right? We'll meet you in the trophy room; that's always unlocked."

Draco strutted away, barely restraining his laughter. He managed to get to the common room, "Imperialist." before bursting into guffaws.

"You're not actually going to go, are you?" Hermione said in a worried tone.

"Of course not Mione." he said, waving his hand dismissively. "But I'm sure Filch would love to hear about two students out of bed at night."

Pansy grinned wickedly. "Excellent.' she declared.

Draco couldn't believe his eyes when he saw that Harry and Ron were still at Hogwarts the next day, looking tired but perfectly cheerful.

"How the hell are they still here?" he yelped.

"You tell me." Hermione grumbled.

As the owls flooded into the Great Hall as usual, everyone's attention was caught at once by a long, thin package carried by six large screech owls. It was dropped in front of Potter.

"Is that a broom?" Draco muttered.

"That's a broomstick," he said, throwing it back to Harry with a mixture of jealousy and spite on his face. "You'll be in for it this time, Potter, first years aren't allowed them." He had done his best to be allowed his broom, but the rules said no.

Ron couldn't resist it.

"It's not any old broomstick," he said, "it's a Nimbus Two Thousand. What did you say you've got at home, Malfoy, a Comet Two Sixty?" Ron grinned at Harry. "Comets look flashy, but they're not in the same league as the Nimbus."

"What would you know about it, Weasley, you couldn't afford half the handle," Malfoy snapped back. "I suppose you and your brothers have to save up twig by twig."

Before Ron could answer, Professor Flitwick appeared at Malfoy's elbow.

"Not arguing, I hope, boys?" he squeaked.

"Potter's been sent a broomstick, Professor," said Hermione quickly.

"Yes, yes, that's right," said Professor Flitwick, beaming at Harry. "Professor McGonagall told me all about the special circumstances, Potter. And what model is it?"

"A Nimbus Two Thousand, it is," said Harry, fighting not to laugh at the look of horror on Malfoy's face. "And it's really thanks to Malfoy here that I've got it," he added.

Later that evening Hermione could be seen ranting in the common room.

"It's not fair! When most people break the rules they're punished. But when he breaks the rules, he's rewarded!"

"We know it's not fair." grumbled Pansy. "Potter's the bloody savior. Of course he gets privileges."

On Halloween morning they woke to the delicious smell of baking pumpkin wafting through the corridors. Even better, Professor Flitwick announced in Charms that he thought they were ready to start making objects fly, something they had all been dying to try since they'd seen him make Longbottom's toad zoom around the classroom. Professor Flitwick put the class into pairs to practice. Hermione was with Daphne, Pansy with Draco, and Theo with Blaise. To their amusement, Weasley was paired with Moon, and both looked immensely disgruntled.

"Now, don't forget that nice wrist movement we've been practicing!" squeaked Professor Flitwick, perched on top of his pile of books as usual. "Swish and flick, remember, swish and flick. And saying the magic words properly is very important, too - never forget Wizard Baruffio, who said 's' instead of 'f' and found himself on the floor with a buffalo on his chest."

It was quite a difficult spell. After about 5 minutes Hermione managed it.

"Oh look!" Flitwick squeaked. "Miss Granger has done it! Ten points to Slytherin!"

"How did you do it?" Blaise asked curiously.

"I envisioned it." Hermione explained. "I envisioned the feather floating and told it to float."

"Ok." he said uncertainly. "Wingardium Leviosa!"

His feather flew up slowly, and Hermione smiled. Soon, all the Slytherins could do it, and a few Gryffs.

At dinner Hermione entered the Great Hall, when Pansy was about to tell her something, but she was distracted by the amazing decorations. A thousand live bats fluttered from the walls and ceiling while a thousand more swooped over the tables in low black clouds, making the candles in the pumpkins stutter. The feast appeared suddenly on the golden plates, as it had at the start-of-term banquet.

"Sorry, What?" Hermione asked, sitting down. Pansy glared at her.

"You weren't listening, were you?"

"No." Hermione replied. "I was distracted by the decorations."

"Fine." she sighed dramatically, and Hermione stifled a giggle. Pansy was always so dramatic. "Lily Moon, the mudblood, has been crying in the bathroom the entire day since Charms because of some insincere comment Weasley said. Parvati Patil told me. We're on good terms since we were childhood friends."

Before Hermione could answer, Professor Quirrell came sprinting into the hall, his turban askew and terror on his face. Everyone stared as he reached Professor Dumbledore's chair, slumped against the table, and gasped, "Troll - in the dungeons - thought you ought to know."

He then sank to the floor in a dead faint.

There was an uproar. It took several purple firecrackers exploding from the end of Professor Dumbledore's wand to bring silence.

"Prefects," he rumbled, "lead your Houses back to the dormitories immediately!"

Elan was in his mode as a prefect. "Follow me! Stick together, first years! No need to fear the troll if you follow my orders! Stay close behind me, now. Make way, first years coming through! Excuse me, I'm a prefect!"

"How could a troll get in?" Hermione asked as they climbed the stairs.

"Don't ask me, they're supposed to be really stupid," said Pansy. "Maybe Peeves let it in for a Halloween joke."

"Even Peeves wouldn't do that." she said doubtfully. When they reached the common room, everyone sat down, buzzing with news. The group of friends sank down near some green and silver tasseled cushions next to the fireplace. Half an hour later, Snape walked in.

"Slytherins." he said to the eager group of students. "The troll was subdued by a certain Mr Potter, who has again showed that he is a foolhardy Gryffindor. That is all."

Hermione noticed something. "Why is he limping?"

"I don't know." Theo murmured.

"Again!" Pansy ranted. "They were told to go to their rooms, but NO! That idiot goes chasing after a Mountain Troll! And then, thanks to dumb luck, he is rewarded! Again!"

"What did you expect?" Daphne laughed bitterly. "They're Gryffindors."

Chapter Text

As they entered November, the weather turned very cold. The mountains around the school became icy gray and the lake like chilled steel. Every morning the ground was covered in frost. Hagrid could be seen from the upstairs windows defrosting broomsticks on the Quidditch field, bundled up in a long moleskin overcoat, rabbit fur gloves, and enormous beaver skin boots. Hermione was wandering the halls alone, thinking when she heard a voice.

"What have we hear? A small Slytherin Snake, all alone."

Hermione spun around, starting to get scared. The speaker was a blond Gryffindor who Hermione barely recognized as a boy named Charles Cadence.

Hermione tried lowering her head and brushing past him, but was stopped by his friend, and equally mean looking boy.

"Please let me go." she said, unable to hide the tremor in her voice. Why were they doing this to her?

"I don't think so." the black haired boy sneered.

"You see," said the blonde one, "We don't like slimy snakes who act like they own the castle, so we're here to teach you a lesson. Ready Grinal?"

"Ready." Grinal nodded, and Hermione recognized him. Gidion Grinal, Gryffindor 6th year.

Grinal punched her in the stomach, and with a small gasp, Hermione doubled over in pain. She glared up at them. Hadn't she gone through this enough in Primary School?

"Aren't you not supposed to hit girls?" she spat.

"You're not a girl, you're a Slytherin." Cadence sneered.

Suddenly one of them punched her nose and she fell to the ground, blood streaming from it, and seeing stars. She felt a hex hit her arm and this time she couldn't help but cry out in pain as it was wrenched from it's position.

"Not so good are you now, huh?" Cadence sneered. Hermione spat blood at them in defiance, and the next moment she was on the ground writhing in pain. They had kicked her ribs, and woozily she noticed that one of her ribs had punctured her lungs. This was all Hermione knew before she blacked out.

When Hermione came to, all she knew was that she was in a very warm place, and all she could see was white. Slowly, she regained her bearings. What had happened? She remembered that two boys had ambushed her, but from there here memory was woozy. Hermione groaned. She was parched.

"Oh!" Madame Pomfrey, the Healer, bustled to her. "You're awake! Here." Madame P tilted her head and gave her water. Hermione took it all like a drought victim, gulping it and clutching the glass like her life depended on it.

"What happened?" she croaked, once she was done with the water.

"You were ambushed by two people, we don't know who. Prefect Elan Parkinson found you during his patrols and brought you here. The audacity!" she tutted. "Attacking a young girl like this."

"What was the damage?" Hermione asked quietly, not really wanting to know.

Madame Pomfrey gave her a sympathetic look. "A dislocated arm, two broken ribs, a punctured lung, a broken nose, and a concussion." she listed, and Hermione felt queasy, barely suppressing the feeling she had of dry retching.

"How long have I been out?"

"Nearly three days. You're friends visited, and left tokens." she said, pointing to her bedstand.

Hermione stared at the tiny pile of presents. She almost never had gotten a present! There was a box of chocolate frogs from Blaise, a card from Theo, another card from Daphne, a book from Tracy, and a small card from Elan. The last gift was a vase of deep red roses from Draco. She smiled. Deep red roses meant heartfelt regret and sorrow. Hermione smiled.

"When can I leave?" she asked.

"Not yet!" Madame Pomfrey scolded. "Dumbledore needs to come in and talk to you about who attacked."

"Ok." said Hermione, feeling hopeful. Now those two boys had to be expelled!

"Ah, Miss Granger." said Dumbledore in his grandfatherly tone. His robes were bright blue with golden dots on them. Hermione knew exactly what Pansy would say to them. Garish!

"Hello Headmaster." said Hermione, sitting up.

"I was hoping you could reveal to me who attacked you so I could have them arrested." he said.

"Two Gryffindors." said Hermione clearly. "Charles Cadence and Gideon Grinal."

"Ah." said Dumbledore shortly, and Hermione saw a weird expression flash across his face.

"Miss Granger, I am going to need proof of thee accusations."

Hermione stared at him suspiciously. "How can I provide proof?" she asked.

"I'm afraid there is no proper way without Veritaserum, but it is illegal to give it to minors. I'm afraid my hands are tied in this situation."

Hermione could do nothing but gape at him. She was attacked and he could do nothing? He was the headmaster for Merlin's sake!

"Thank you sir." she said, unable to keep the bite out of her voice. Walking back to the dungeons, she had a million thoughts rolling through her head.

"Passere." Hermione said to the wall, and it slid open. When she walked in, the common room was silent, before bursting into noise.

"What happened?"

"Are you alright?"

"Where have you been?"

"Who hurt you?"

"Wait!" Hermione shouted, unable to cope with all the questions. The room quieted.

"I was attacked." she admitted. "By two Gryffindor 6th years, Charles Cadence and Gideon Grinal."

"I know those two." said a 3rd year, Amelie Wilkes. "They attacked me when I was in my first year too. Dumbledore again did nothing."

"I'll kill them." Elan Parkinson hissed, a murderous look on his face.

"Don't." said Marcus Flint, with a sour look on his face. "I remember many attacks in my years so far, and each time a Slytherin was attacked, nothing was done. A few years ago, after a Slytherin 6th year attacked a Gryffindor 5th year for putting her cousin in St. Mungos, she was expelled for the attack on the lion, even though there was no proof. Dumbledore just won't hurt his precious lions."

"That's biased!" Hermione shriekd.

"You don't say." he drawled, and the reality of Hermione's situation set in. She had been attacked, and nothing would happen to her attackers because of her house.

Hermione went to sit down with her friends, and Blaise immediately made room for her.

"They're going to be punished right? Didn't Dumbledore listen to you?" said Pansy worriedly.

Hermione laughed bitterly. "As if. Dumbledore said that since there is not proof, nothing can be done."

"WHAT!" Pansy shrieked loudly, and Hermione winced. Damn Pansy and her mother goose instincts. "YOU'RE ATTACKED AND DUMBLEDORE GIVES NO PUNISHMENT! Of ALL THE …" Pansy went into a long winded rant about unfairness and no justice.

"Are you alright Princess?" asked Blaise.

"I'm fine." Hermione replied. "Oh no!" she exclaimed, widening her eyes. "I missed one of my Potions lessons!" and Hermione rushed off to his office.

"Professor sir!" she exclaimed in his office, skidding in. "I'm so sorry for missing your lesson, but I was attacked. It was right on the day of our lesson, and -" Hermione was babbling.

"Miss Granger, it is alright. I am more concerned about your welfare."

"I'm fine sir. Is there anyway I can make up the lessons?"

"We will just continue from where we left off next Thursday."

"Thank you sir!" she said, going back to the dungeons.

"Come on Hermione!" Draco wheedled. "Please?" Hermione glared at him before sighing in resignation.

"Fine." she grumbled. "I'll read the stupid quidditch books."

"Yes!" Draco cheered. Even though Hermione wouldn't admit it, they were quite interesting. Hermione learned that there were seven hundred ways of committing a Quidditch foul and that all of them had happened during a World Cup match in 1473; that Seekers were usually the smallest and fastest players, and that most serious Quidditch accidents seemed to happen to them; that although people rarely died playing Quidditch, referees had been known to vanish and turn up months later in the Sahara Desert.

Soon it was time for the match, and Hermione walked out to the stands bundled up in scarves with omnioculars in her hands. Soon the game started.

"And the Quaffle is taken immediately by Angelina Johnson of Gryffindor - what an excellent Chaser that girl is, and rather attractive, too-"

"JORDAN!"

"Sorry, Professor."

The Weasley twins' friend, Lee Jordan, was doing the commentary for the match, closely watched by Professor McGonagall.

"And she's really belting along up there, a neat pass to Alicia Spinnet, a good find of Oliver Wood's, last year only a reserve - back to Johnson and - no, the Slytherins have taken the Quaffle, Slytherin Captain Marcus Flint gains the Quaffle and off he goes - Flint flying like an eagle up there - he's going to sc - no, stopped by an excellent move by Gryffindor Keeper Wood and the Gryffindors take the Quaffle - that's Chaser Katie Bell of Gryffindor there, nice dive around Flint, off up the field and - OUCH - that must have hurt, hit in the back of the head by a Bludger - Quaffle taken by the Slytherins - that's Adrian Pucey speeding off toward the goal posts, but he's blocked by a second Bludger - sent his way by Fred or George Weasley, can't tell which - nice play by the Gryffindor Beater, anyway, and Johnson back in possession of the Quaffle, a clear field ahead and off she goes - she's really flying - dodges a speeding Bludger - the goal posts are ahead - come on, now, Angelina - Keeper Bletchley dives - misses - GRYFFINDORS SCORE!"

Gryffindor cheers filled the cold air, with howls and moans from the Slytherins.

"Damn it!" Draco cursed. "Slytherin in possession," Lee Jordan was saying, "Chaser Pucey ducks two Bludgers, two Weasleys, and Chaser Bell, and speeds toward the - wait a moment - was that the Snitch?"

A murmur ran through the crowd as Adrian Pucey dropped the Quaffle, too busy looking over his shoulder at the flash of gold that had passed his left ear.

"Come on!" Blaise bellowed. "Don't be distracted!"

Harry Potter started chasing the Snitch, Terrence Higgs right behind him. WHAM! A roar of rage echoed from the Gryffindors below - Marcus Flint had blocked Harry on purpose, and Harry's broom spun off course.

"Yes!" Hermione said.

Lee Jordan was finding it difficult not to take sides.

"So - after that obvious and disgusting bit of cheating-"

"Jordan!" growled Professor McGonagall.

"I mean, after that open and revolting foul..."

"Jordan, I'm warning you-"

"All right, all right. Flint nearly kills the Gryffindor Seeker, which could happen to anyone, I'm sure, so a penalty to Gryffindor, taken by Spinner, who puts it away, no trouble, and we continue play, Gryffindor still in possession."

Hermione scowled at him. "They should get a less biased commentator."

"As if that will happen." Pansy snorted.

Lee was still commentating.

"Slytherin in possession - Flint with the Quaffle - passes Spinnet - passes Bell - hit hard in the face by a Bludger, hope it broke his nose - only joking, Professor - Slytherins score - A no..."

The Slytherins were cheering.

"Yes!" Daphne said.

"What's Potter's broom doing?" Theo asked.

Potter's broom was slowly flying away from the game and zig zagging. Potter himself was hanging on for dear life.

"Hope he get's knocked off." said Draco, glaring at the boy.

Suddenly, people were pointing up at Harry all over the stands. His broom had started to roll over and over, with him only just managing to hold on. Then the whole crowd gasped. Harry's broom had given a wild jerk and Harry swung off it. He was now dangling from it, holding on with only one hand.

"Damn." Blaise whistled. "I hate the guy, but you have to admit, he has guts."

His broom was vibrating so hard, it was almost impossible for him to hang on much longer. The whole crowd was on its feet, watching, terrified, as the Weasleys flew up to try and pull Harry safely onto one of their brooms, but it was no good - every time they got near him, the broom would jump higher still. They dropped lower and circled beneath him, obviously hoping to catch him if he fell. Marcus Flint seized the Quaffle and scored five times without anyone noticing.

"Well at least we're catching up." Hermione muttered.

Suddenly, his broom stopped.

Harry was speeding toward the ground when the crowd saw him clap his hand to his mouth as though he was about to be sick - he hit the field on all fours - coughed - and something gold fell into his hand.

"I've got the Snitch!" he shouted, waving it above his head, and the game ended in complete confusion.

"He didn't catch it, he nearly swallowed it," Flint was still howling twenty minutes later, but it made no difference - Harry hadn't broken any rules and Lee Jordan was still happily shouting the results - Gryffindor had won by one hundred and seventy points to sixty.

"I hate this game." Hermione moaned, and Draco snorted.

"If I was playing we would have won."

"Keep dreaming." Theo retorted, and the boy started bickering.

Christmas was coming. One morning in mid-December, Hogwarts woke to find itself covered in several feet of snow. The lake froze solid and the Weasley twins were punished for bewitching several snowballs so that they followed Quirrell around, bouncing off the back of his turban. The few owls that managed to battle their way through the stormy sky to deliver mail had to be nursed back to health by Hagrid before they could fly off again.

No one could wait for the holidays to start. While the Slytherin common room and the Great Hall had roaring fires, the drafty corridors had become icy and a bitter wind rattled the windows in the classrooms. Worst of all were Professor Snape's classes down in the dungeons, where their breath rose in a mist before them and they kept as close as possible to their hot cauldrons. Snape had come to the common room one day and taught them all warming charms until most of them could cast it nonverbally.

"I do feel so sorry," said Draco Malfoy, one Potions class, "for all those people who have to stay at Hogwarts for Christmas because they're not wanted at home."

Hermione snickered at Potter with her friends. She was going to Malfoy Manor. Carefully, she added spine of lionfish, and some boomslang skin, before handing the rod to Blaise for stirring. Soon the class was over, and Hermione turned in her perfect potion in like usual, keeping a vial for herself. They left the class, before finding themselves blocked by Hagrid, Potter, and Weasley.

"Would you mind moving out of the way?" Draco drawled. "Are you trying to earn some extra money, Weasley? Hoping to be gamekeeper yourself when you leave Hogwarts, I suppose - that hut of Hagrid's must seem like a palace compared to what your family's used to."

Ron dived at Malfoy just as Snape came up the stairs.

"WEASLEY!"

Ron let go of the front of Malfoy's robes.

"He was provoked, Professor Snape," said Hagrid, sticking his huge hairy face out from behind the tree. "Malfoy was insultin' his family."

"Be that as it may, fighting is against Hogwarts rules, Hagrid," said Snape silkily. "Five points from Gryffindor, Weasley, and be grateful it isn't more. Move along, all of you."

The group of friends pushed past them, and Hermione glared at them. "Do those barbarians have to resort to violence for everything?"

"Yes." smirked Blaise.

"It was a rhetorical question Blaise." she snapped.

"You're pretty when you're angry Princess." he smirked again, and Hermione flounced off with a huff.

Chapter Text

Hermione looked around Malfoy Manor in awe. The walls were marble, and the floor granite. Large golden windows bigger than her let light stream in, and portraits hung on the walls.

"Like it?" Draco smirked.

"It's amazing!" she said, unable to keep the awe out of her voice. The two spent the days talking, flying, and playing chess. Hermione had always sucked at the game, and she lost to Draco very quickly, leading to her grumpiness. Soon, It was Christmas Eve, and Hermione went to bed.

When she woke the next morning, she saw a small pile of packages at the foot of her bed. She gaped for a few moments. The only presents she had received as a child were from her parents, and after her reveal about magic, none.

"What did you expect?" Draco smirked, sauntering in with his presents.

"I haven't actually received presents for years." Hermione said, a lump in her throat.

"Well you deserve them Princess. Come on!" he urged. "Open up!"

Her first present was from Draco. It was a beautiful marble chess set. Her next gift was a beautiful set of earrings from Daphne. They were silver snakes with emerald eyes whose tails wrapped around to the top of her earlobe. Hermione smirked. This was why Daphne had all the girls pierce their ears during Christmas shopping.

Pansy sent her some hair accessories, while Theo and Blaise sent her books. The most surprising was from Professor Snape, who sent her a book on Potions. This would make her notes much easier, as Hermione had taken to jotting down her corrections in her books. Hermione got nothing from her parents.

"I can't believe I got presents." Hermione giggled, and Draco grinned.

"It gets better. The gang are coming over for a Christmas dinner. Vince, Greg, Daph and her little sister Stori, Pansy, Theo, Blaise, Millicent, and Tracy. A few of the older kids will come like Elan and Marcus Flint and the rest."

"Excellent!" Hermione cheered.

"What my son didn't tell you is that it's a formal party." came the smooth voice of Narcissa Malfoy. Hermione thought that if anyone would be put on the covers of a magazine as a society wife, it was her. She was perfect.

"Oh." Hermione grimaced." She did not do well with formal.

"Don't worry." Mrs Malfoy continued. "I have it all planned out already."

"You didn't have to do that Mrs Malfoy." Hermione blushed. Here she was a guest and they were doing so much for her.

"Nonsense." the woman waved it away.

That evening Hermione was treated like a doll. After a relaxing bath, Her hair was pulled to the side, the curls natural. Hermione had on dark lipstick and dark green eyeshadow. Her dress was an amazing dark green thing with a halter top and a flowy skirt. Hermione paired the earrings Daphne gave her with it and pulled on silver sandals.

"You look amazing." Mrs. Malfoy complimented. She was in a navy blue dress with a gold and white torso. Her makeup was light, but the heavy blue necklace and the large blue earrings she wore made up for it.

"You too Mrs. Malfoy." Hermione said, and she went down to the side room of the Dining Hall.

When she walked in, she immediately went to Pansy and Daphne. Pansy was in a scarlet red dress, and Daphne was in a purple dress with silver gems on it.

"You guys look amazing." Hermione gushed.

"You too." Daphne complimented.

"OK!" Marcus Flint bellowed. "Everyone pair up!"

"Why?" Hermione asked in confusion.

He chuckled. "I forgot you haven't done this before. We walk into the dining room with partners." he explained.

Hermione was paired with Draco. Theo was with Daphne, Pansy with Blaise, Tracy with Vince, and Milli with Greg. Stori ended up with Theo's younger brother Quincy, and the older kids paired up. They went in from oldest to youngest. Soon, it was Hermione's turn.

"Ready?" Draco asked with a grin.

"Ready." she smiled, and they walked in. Hermione, looking at the adults, could tell who was whose parent. Elora Zabini, currently single since her last husband so tragically died, was stunning, in a violet gown to match her violet eyes and mocha skin, with silky black locks. Theo's mom had died when he was little, but his dad was a fairly average looking person with black hair. What really matched him to Theo was their smiles. They had the same impish smiles.

Daphne's dad shared her color of blonde hair, while Pansy's mom had the same nose as her- small with a tiny upturn at the end.

"Let the feast begin." announced Mr Malfoy, and food popped in.

"I always wondered," said Hermione, taking a bite of her salad, "Where does the food come from?"

"House elves." answered Astoria Greengrass. Stori was the opposite of her sister- black hair and brown eyes with slightly chubby cheeks, while Daphne was pale and blonde with hollow cheeks. The only resemblance the two girls had were their cunning eyes.

"What are house elves?" Hermione asked.

"I'll show you one later." said Draco.

"Basically they are small creatures who serve us." said Marcus.

"Isn't that slavery?" asked Hermione.

"NO." said Blaise, nipping her thoughts in the bud. "House Elves like serving their masters. Without the master bonds, they would die. Don't even think about it princess."

"I'm not!" said Hermione, raising her hands innocently.

"Yes, you were." the entire table chorused, and Hermione glared at them, though without any real heat. The rest of the dinner went wonderfully, and Hermione found herself having the best Christmas in a very long time. This was what Christmas was supposed to be. Not for the first time that break, Hermione found herself wishing that the Malfoy's were her family.

The rest of the break was the same. When they went back to Hogwarts Hermione enveloped herself in Potions studies. It was her favorite subject easily, and Hermione found herself changing the potions more and more. She would add nettles, knotgrass, lacewing flies, and even a few of Snape's rare drops of Occamy Venom. Most of the times her potions were sent to the Hospital Wing to be used, since this year was mostly healing potions. Hermione would keep the ones for herself just in case people needed healing.

"Guess what?" Draco smirked.

"Chicken Butt." Hermione deadpanned, and Blaise burst into guffaws, while everyone else stared at her. Hermione rolled her eyes and went back to her book.

"I hexed Longbottom." Draco smirked.

"With what?" Pansy asked eagerly.

"The leg locker curse."

"Excellent." Theo smirked.

Hermione was sitting in the stands bundled up wondering why for the 15th time was she at a Quidditch Game.

"I've never seen Snape look so mean," Ron Weasley was telling Lily Moon. "Look - they're off. Ouch!"

Draco had just poked him in the back of his head.

"Oh, sorry, Weasley, didn't see you there."

Draco grinned broadly at them, and Hermione smiled before returning to her book.

"Wonder how long Potter's going to stay on his broom this time? Anyone want a bet? What about you, Weasley?"

Ron didn't answer; Snape had just awarded Hufflepuff a penalty because George Weasley had hit a Bludger at him. Lily, who had all her fingers crossed in her lap, was squinting fixedly at Harry, who was circling the game like a hawk, looking for the Snitch. Hermione watched carefully. Couldn't anyone see that Snape was not steady on his broom. It was obvious that he didn't want to be there.

"You know how I think they choose people for the Gryffindor team?" said Malfoy loudly a few minutes later, as Snape awarded Hufflepuff another penalty for no reason at all. "It's people they feel sorry for. See, there's Potter, who's got no parents, then there's the Weasleys, who've got no money - you should be on the team, Longbottom, you've got no brains."

Neville went bright red but turned in his seat to face Malfoy.

"I'm worth twelve of you, Malfoy," he stammered.

Malfoy, Crabbe, and Goyle howled with laughter, but Ron, still not daring to take his eyes from the game, said, "You tell him, Neville." Hermione snorted at him before turning his hair green with a quiet hex.

"Longbottom, if brains were gold you'd be poorer than Weasley, and that's saying something."

Ron's nerves were already stretched to the breaking point with anxiety about Harry.

"I'm warning you, Malfoy - one more word-"

"Ron!" said Lily suddenly, "Harry-"

"What? Where?"

Harry had suddenly gone into a spectacular dive, which drew gasps and cheers from the crowd. Lily stood up, her crossed fingers in her mouth, as Harry streaked toward the ground like a bullet.

"You're in luck, Weasley, Potter's obviously spotted some money on the ground!" said Malfoy.

Ron snapped. Before Malfoy knew what was happening, Ron was on top of him, wrestling him to the ground. Neville hesitated, then clambered over the back of his seat to help.

"Stop it!" Hermione shrieked, hexing Weasley with the Leg Locker Curse. He face planted in the stands. She was about to get Longbottom, but noticed that Crabbe and Goyle had it.

"Here, are you alright?" Hermione asked Draco.

"No." he grumbled, sporting a black eye.

Hermione sighed in exasperation. Boys. "Come here."

He came to her.

"Sana Livore." she murmured, and his black eye disappeared. "Should we help them?" she asked, looking at the scuffle of Vince, Greg, and Longbottom.

"Naw." Draco said easily.

"Come on, Harry!" Lily screamed, leaping onto her seat to watch as Harry sped straight at Snape - she didn't even notice the scuffles and yelps coming from the whirl of fists that was Neville, Crabbe, and Goyle.

Up in the air, Snape turned on his broomstick just in time to see something scarlet shoot past him, missing him by inches - the next second, Harry had pulled out of the dive, his arm raised in triumph, the Snitch clasped in his hand.

The stands erupted; it had to be a record, no one could ever remember the Snitch being caught so quickly.

"Damn it!" Hermione cursed. "Again!"

"Bloody again." Pansy said gloomily.

As time passed, Hermione had more on her mind than Quidditch- the finals were coming. She had started drawing up study schedules and color coding all her notes. It was a Slytherin rule that around this time, the older kids would give them any of the questions they remembered to the exams so that the younger students could review.

Though the exams were ages away, all the Slytherins had drawn up study plans, unlike the Gryffindors, who Lily could be heard nagging.

The teachers thought the same as her. They piled so much homework on them that the Easter holidays weren't nearly as much fun as the Christmas ones.

Hermione was talking with Draco about studying when Draco overheard something.

"Did you hear that?" he whispered urgently.

"What?" Hermione asked.

"Potter and Weasel are talking about dragons and Hagrid!" he said.

Hermione got a speculative look on her face. "It would be nice to get them in trouble." she admitted.

"I can go spy on them." he said.

Later that evening he came back.

"The oaf is breeding a Norwedgian Ridgeback!" he exclaimed.

"Idiot." commented Pansy derisively.

A week later, Draco came in holding a book.

"Look!" he said exultantly.

"What?" asked Theo, annoyed for being disturbed from his studies.

"This letter about the dragon." he said, and the group crowded around it.

Dear Ron,

How are you? Thanks for the letter - I'd be glad to take the Norwegian Ridgeback, but it won't be easy getting him here. I think the best thing will be to send him over with some friends of mine who are coming to visit me next week. Trouble is, they mustn't be seen carrying an illegal dragon.

Could you get the Ridgeback up the tallest tower at midnight on Saturday? They can meet you there and take him away while it's still dark.

Send me an answer as soon as possible.

Love,

Charlie

"Midnight on Saturday." said Blaise quietly.

"Who should go to rat the out?" said Daphne.

"I want to." said Draco with an evil grin.

"Very well." said Pansy. "Midnight on Saturday.

Draco was caught, and none of them believed him about the dragon. He was given detention. "Absolute idiots." he snarled.

"On the good side, Gryffindor lost 150 points." piped up Pansy.

"Yeah." Blaise grinned. Potter had become very hated at school, because all the houses wanted Slytherin to lose.

Your detention will take place at eleven o'clock tonight.

Meet Mr. Filch in the entrance hall.

Professor McGonagall

"How was your detention?" Hermione asked when he got back. Draco was pale.

"Bloody horrible. We had to go into the Forbidden Forest."

"That has to be illegal!" Daphne shouted.

"I can write to father about it." said Draco gloomily.

"This is Dumbledore's school." Hermione scoffed. "Not one bloody thing will happen."

Chapter Text

Hermione was stressed. It was the day of the exams! It was sweltering hot, especially in the large classroom where they did their written papers. They had been given special, new quills for the exams, which had been bewitched with an Anticheating spell. Hermione snorted. As if she would cheat.

They had practical exams as well. Professor Flitwick called them one by one into his class to see if they could make a pineapple tapdance across a desk. Professor McGonagall watched them turn a mouse into a snuffbox - points were given for how pretty the snuffbox was, but taken away if it had whiskers. Snape made them all nervous, breathing down their necks while they tried to remember how to make a Forgetfulness potion.

Their very last exam was History of Magic. One hour of answering questions about batty old wizards who'd invented selfstirring cauldrons and they'd be free, free for a whole wonderful week until their exam results came out. When the ghost of Professor Binns told them to put down their quills and roll up their parchment, Hermione couldn't help but cheering with the rest.

"That was far easier than I thought it would be," said Hermione as they joined the crowds flocking out onto the sunny grounds. "I needn't have learned about the 1637 Werewolf Code of Conduct or the uprising of Elfric the Eager."

"Hush Hermione." chided Daphne. "Don't ruin my good mood."

"Guess what?" said Elan, rushing in.

"Chicken butt." Hermione deadpanned again, and this time everyone burst into laughter. Hermione high fived Blaise.

"No." he scowled. "Potter's in the hospital wing!"

"Is he dead?" asked Pansy eagerly.

"Injured?" asked Daphne.

"Maimed?" finished Hermione.

"I don't know exactly what." he said, rolling his eyes.

"Well at least he's hurt." remarked Blaise.

"Bloody Potter." Draco grumbled.

Hermione sat in the Great Hall and looked around. It was already the end of the year, and so much had changed. No longer was she the bushy haired bookworm with no friends. Now she had friends, her hair was normal, and most importantly, she was happy.

The Great Hall was amazing. It was decked out in the Slytherin colors of green and silver to celebrate Slytherin's winning the house cup for the seventh year in a row. A huge banner showing the Slytherin serpent covered the wall behind the High Table.

When Potter walked in there was a sudden hush, and then everybody started talking loudly at once.

"Damn." Draco grouched. "I was hoping he wouldn't come."

Dumbledore arrived moments later. The babble died away.

"Another year gone!" Dumbledore said cheerfully. "And I must trouble you with an old man's wheezing waffle before we sink our teeth into our delicious feast. What a year it has been! Hopefully your heads are all a little fuller than they were... you have the whole summer ahead to get them nice and empty before next year starts...

"Now, as I understand it, the house cup here needs awarding, and the points stand thus: In fourth place, Gryffindor, with three hundred and twelve points; in third, Hufflepuff, with three hundred and fifty-two; Ravenclaw has four hundred and twenty-six and Slytherin, four hundred and seventy-two."

A storm of cheering and stamping broke out from the Slytherin table. This was the one time of year that Slytherins stopped holding all manners in public and acted like the children they were. Hermione hooted and hollered with them.

"Yes, Yes, well done, Slytherin," said Dumbledore. "However, recent events must be taken into account."

The room went very still. The Slytherins' smiles faded a little.

"Ahem," said Dumbledore. "I have a few last-minute points to dish out. Let me see. Yes...

"First - to Mr. Ronald Weasley..."

Ron went purple in the face; he looked like a radish with a bad sunburn.

"... for the best-played game of chess Hogwarts has seen in many years, I award Gryffindor house fifty points."

Gryffindor cheers nearly raised the bewitched ceiling; the stars overhead seemed to quiver. Percy could be heard telling the other prefects, "My brother, you know! My youngest brother! Got past McGonagall's giant chess set!"

Hermione couldn't believe it. "A chess game?" she said in disbelief.

"Just you watch." said Elan darkly, leaning over his friend Emma to talk to them. "Gryffindor is going to win this for sure."

At last there was silence again.

"Second - to Miss Lily Moon... for the use of cool logic in the face of fire, I award Gryffindor house fifty points."

Lily buried her face in her arms; Hermione strongly suspected she had burst into tears. Gryffindors up and down the table were beside themselves - they were a hundred points up.

"Third - to Mr. Harry Potter... " said Dumbledore. The room went deadly quiet. "... for pure nerve and outstanding courage, I award Gryffindor house sixty points."

The din was deafening. Those who could add up while yelling themselves hoarse knew that Gryffindor now had four hundred and seventy-two points - exactly the same as Slytherin. They had tied for the house cup - if only Dumbledore had given Harry just one more point.

"NO!" Pansy shrieked.

Dumbledore raised his hand. The room gradually fell silent.

"There are all kinds of courage," said Dumbledore, smiling. "It takes a great deal of bravery to stand up to our enemies, but just as much to stand up to our friends. I therefore award ten points to Mr. Neville Longbottom."

Someone standing outside the Great Hall might well have thought some sort of explosion had taken place, so loud was the noise that erupted from the Gryffindor table. Hermione was frozen in shock. She could feel tears pricking at her eyes. Slytherins had worked hard the entire year to fairly earn points, and now it was taken away from them. They had come ready for a party and now they would watch as others celebrated their loss. It was cruel.

"Which means," Dumbledore called over the storm of applause, for even Ravenclaw and Hufflepuff were celebrating the downfall of Slytherin, "we need a little change of decoration."

He clapped his hands. In an instant, the green hangings became scarlet and the silver became gold; the huge Slytherin serpent vanished and a towering Gryffindor lion took its place.

"I told you." said Elan grimly. "This is Dumbledore's school, which means that Slytherins can't win."

"It's not fair." whispered Hermione.

"Who said life was fair?" asked Theo, his shoulders shaking as he resisted crying.

Soon bags were packed and wardrobes empty.

"You'll write, right?" Hermione asked worriedly.

"Everyday princess." Draco promised, and Hermione squared her shoulders. Now she would have to go home, back to where she had no support. Hermione trudged to her parents. Dan and Emma Granger, both with brown hair and brown eyes. They looked scared to be around so much magic.

"Bye Hermione!" Daphne called, and Hermione waved back, worries forgotten for a moment.

"Bye Daph!" she called.

Chapter Text

Dear Hermione,

I promised to write every day, didn't I. Technically Drake did, but meh. Schematics. How is life going with the muggles? Have you been driven mad yet? More mad than you already are? I'm so glad we have letters, or I would be bruised from your punches right now. Violent woman. Last year I realized we never celebrated your birthday, so Happy belated Birthday. You're older than all of us now, an amazing 13 years old! Lord it over Pansy please. I swear, she is more insufferable than ever!

By the way, looked what those harpies convinced me to do. I have enclosed a picture, and they made me pierce my ear with a diamond! I must admit though, I look dashing. More dashing than I already am.

The hottest boy alive,

Blaise

Hermione burst into laughs as she read it, and pulled out the magical photo. Blaise was grinning and laughing with Pans and Daph, a large diamond sparkling in his right earlobe.

Dear Blaise,

You look amazing with the piercing! Maybe Daph can get you a snake like ours and we can match. Also, the moment we see each other you are in for a punching Zabini. Accept it, and hide. I am not mad! *shrieking* You don't have to write me everyday, or Artemis will go crazy. Remember to feed her owl treats.

I miss you all a lot. I forgot what it was like here. I lord it over all the girls who used to make fun of me now though. It feels wonderful! After all, I go to an exclusive, private boarding school in Scotland and all my friends are bloody rich! I only had to wear the necklace Pansy got me to make them go all green. And not a nice Slytherin green, but a dirty green.

I know I sound mean, but these girls were horrible to me when I was younger. Have you finished your homework yet? You better, because I will not help you at all.

Love,

Mione

Dear Hermione,

You go! Make those bitches feel jealous. I have finished my homework sadly.

-Blaise

Hermione Jean Granger,

I have not heard from you for a WEEK! I am so worried! You will write miss, or I will bunk up to your house and hex you good and proper. I don't care if we aren't allowed to use magic. Right?

Ok, how have you been? Did you see Blaise's piercing? Did you like it? I miss you Mione, and let me tell you that you will never have to worry about being called something like a Mudblood from Slytherins. We accept you. Now send me a letter.

Love,

Pansy

Dear Pansy,

Are you nuts! You basically sent me a letter yelling at me. Reading it, I burst into laughter during breakfast and snorted milk out of my nose! My parents just stared at me like I was crazy. Nothing new.

Anyway, I miss you Pans! We have to meet this summer. I have been fine, and I took your advice of lording how good life is over my former bullies. By the Way, since Blaise pissed me off, you should know he called you insufferable.

-Hermione

Hermione,

What have you done? Pansy came storming over to Blaise's house when were hanging out and screamed death threats at him. He just kept saying that you had betrayed him. Dear God, spare me from those two. How has life been? Having fun? Muggles keeping you down?

Love,

Daphne

Dear Daphne

Your image of what Pansy did just caused me to burst into laughter. I can totally see Pansy storming into Blaise's house and screaming at him. And it's Blaise's fault for calling me violent! I've been having fun, and I mostly ignore the muggles. What about you?

-Hermione

Dear Hermione,

YOU ARE VIOLENT!

-Daphne

Dear Hermione,

How have you been? Father says that we can come over in a few days and you can stay at the Manor for the rest of the summer. Mother has already decided that you are to be given a permanent room here. How have you been?

-Draco

Dear Draco,

I am absolutely touched at your parents gesture. A permanent room there? If I didn't feel so bad about intruding, I'd stay there forever. I'm good, but how are you? Did you see Blaise's new piercing? Did you know that Pansy threatened to kill Blaise? I can't wait for you to come.

Love,

Hermione

Hermione sat in her room, trunk packed. Artemis sat on her shoulder, preening her golden feathers.

"Hermione!" her father called, and Hermione came down, shrinking her trunk. Though she was not allowed to do magic outside of school, her trunk had automatic shrinking charms on it, so no magic was used.

"Draco!" she exclaimed, enveloping him in a hug.

"Pansy!" the Black haired girl hugged her with a giggle.

"Hermione dear," said Mrs Malfoy, "We are going to Italy and were hoping you would join us. I believe Draco sent you a letter about it. The Zabinis, Greengrasses, Notts, Crabbes, and Goyles are already there."

Hermione couldn't believe it. Her parents never traveled, but here was an opportunity to go to Italy!

"I would love to!" she exclaimed, and Hermione left without a second thought.

Once they were in Italy via Side- Along Apparition, Mr. Malfoy applied special charms to them. Now everything you say will be in Italian when it is needed.." he told them ."Draco, Blaise, and our families already speak it."

"Thanks." smiled Hermione in English.

Italy was amazing. They had their own version of Diagon Alley called Tramonto Alley, or Sunset Alley. They visited Venice, and there there were colonies of merpeople living in the canals. Hermione got to go underwater with gillyweed and interact with the merpeople. It was heaven.

The restaurants, the music, the dancing, the shopping, everything. She and Pansy bought lots of clothes, and a new shampoo to tame Hermione's hair. Along with that Hermione got many many books to read.

They stayed in Italy for a fortnight before leaving, and by then it was time to go shopping for the school year.

"Booklist?" asked Lucius over breakfast.

" SECOND-YEAR STUDENTS WILL REQUIRE:" read Draco, "

The Standard Book of Spells, Grade 2 by Miranda Goshawk

Break with a Banshee by Gilderoy Lockhart

Gadding with Ghouls by Gilderoy Lockhart

Holidays with Hags by Gilderoy Lockhart

Travels with Trolls by Gilderoy Lockhart

Voyages with Vampires by Gilderoy Lockhart

Wanderings with Werewolves by Gilderoy Lockhart

Year with the Yeti by Gilderoy Lockhart"

"Lockhart?" asked Narcissa. "I remember that fool. A half-blood Slytherin who took credit for other people's works. He represented the worst of Slytherin. How did he end up in such a good position?"

"I don't know." shrugged Draco.

"Anyway," interuppted Lucius, "Everyone get ready to go to Diagon Alley."

Hermione went up after breakfast and pulled on a dark blue summer dress with flowy sleeves and skirt. Tucking a blue headband into her curls, she went down to find Draco in a normal black pants and white shirt.

"You first Hermione dear." said Mrs Malfoy, offering her a small engraved pot with powder in it. It reminded Hermione of the ashes she saw that people would take a small bite of in Indian temples.

Hermione stared at them all watching her.

"W-what am I supposed to do?" she stammered.

"She's never traveled by Floo powder," said Draco suddenly. "Sorry, Mione, I forgot."

"Take the powder, throw it into the fire when you step in, and yell the name of the place you would like to go. We will visit Knockturn Alley first, where I have to drop some things off at Borgin and Burkes. That fool," Lucius sneered, "Arthur Weasley is conducting raids of houses. You three go to the bookshop, I'll meet up with you."

"I'll go first." Draco volunteered.

He took a pinch of glittering powder out of the flowerpot, stepped up to the fire, and threw the powder into the flames.

With a roar, the fire turned emerald green and rose higher than him, who stepped right into it, shouted, "Diagon Alley!" and vanished.

"Diagon Alley!" said Hermione, copying him.

It felt as though she was being sucked down a giant drain. She seemed to be spinning very fast - the roaring in her ears was deafening - she tried to keep her eyes open but the whirl of green flames made her feel sick -something hard knocked her elbow and she tucked it in tightly, still spinning and spinning - now it felt as though cold hands were slapping her face - she saw a blurred stream of fireplaces and snatched glimpses of the rooms beyond - her breakfast was churning inside her - she closed her eyes again wishing it would stop, and then...

She tripped unceremoniously and nearly face planted on the floor if not for the fact that Draco barely caught her.

"Thanks" she said, wiping off her dress. "I never want to do that again."

"First to Gringotts." said Narcissa briskly, and they went to the bank. It was marble, and run by goblins.

The vaults were reached by means of small, goblin-driven carts that sped along miniature train tracks through the bank's underground tunnels. Hermione enjoyed the breakneck journey down to the Malfoy vaults, but felt horrible when she realized that she had no money.

"Here." said Draco, handing her a small blue bag of galleons. Hermione stared in astonishment at the gold coins. "I can't take this!" she stammered.

"Nonsense." said Narcissa briskly. "You will take it. Consider it a birthday present. Now you two go browse a little and meet me at Flourish and Blotts in an hour."

"Well?" said Draco, and Hermione grinned wryly, knowing what he was going to say. "Ice cream!"

"Naturally." she drawled, but they went to Florean Fortescues. They both bought strawberry and peanut butter ice creams, which they slurped happily as they walked along the alley, examining the shops.

Hermione dragged Draco off from staring at a set of Thunder Mouth Falcons robes to get more parchment and ink, along with a thorough raid of the apothecary for the best potions ingredients she could find.

An hour later, they headed for Flourish and Blotts. They were by no means the only ones making their way to the bookshop. As they approached it, they saw to their surprise a large crowd jostling outside the doors, trying to get in. The reason for this was proclaimed by a large banner stretched across the upper windows:

GILDEROY LOCKHART

will be signing copies of his autobiography

MAGICAL ME

today 12:30 P.M. to 4:30 P.M.

"We can actually meet him!" Daphne squealed. "I mean, he's written almost the whole booklist!" They had caught up with her near the apothecary/

The crowd seemed to be made up mostly of witches around Mrs. Weasley's age. A harassed-looking wizard stood at the door, saying, "Calmly, please, ladies... Don't push, there... mind the books, now..."

Draco, Daphne, and Hermione squeezed inside. A long line wound right to the back of the shop, where Gilderoy Lockhart was signing his books. They each grabbed a copy of The Standard Book of Spells, Grade 2 and sneaked up the line to where the Malfoys were standing with Mr. and Mrs. Greengrass.

Oh, there you are, good," said Mrs. Malfoy. "Let's get the books signed and leave."

Gilderoy Lockhart came slowly into view, seated at a table surrounded by large pictures of his own face, all winking and flashing dazzlingly white teeth at the crowd. The real Lockhart was wearing robes of forget-me-not blue that exactly matched his eyes; his pointed wizard's hat was set at a jaunty angle on his wavy hair.

A short, irritable-looking man was dancing around taking photographs with a large black camera that emitted puffs of purple smoke with every blinding flash.

"He looks like a pouf." muttered Draco, and both the girls scowled at him.

"Children, go upstairs." said Mrs. Malfoy. "I'll get these signed for you."

The three were watching him when he lept up. "It can't be Harry Potter!" he exclaimed, and Hermione rolled her eyes.
"Here we go again with Harry Potter the Savior."

The crowd parted, whispering excitedly; Lockhart dived forward, seized Harry's arm, and pulled him to the front. The crowd burst into applause. Lockhart shook Potter's hand for the photographer, who was taking photos with large bursts of black smoke.

When he finally let go of Harry's hand, the boy tried to walk away, but was stopped and clamped tightly to Lockhart.

"Ladies and gentlemen," he said loudly, waving for quiet. "What an extraordinary moment this is! The perfect moment for me to make a little announcement I've been sitting on for some time!

"When young Harry here stepped into Flourish and Blotts today, he only wanted to buy my autobiography - which I shall be happy to present him now, free of charge -" The crowd applauded again. "He had no idea ," Lockhart continued, giving Harry a little shake that made his glasses slip to the end of his nose, "that he would shortly be getting much, much more than my book, Magical Me . He and his schoolmates will, in fact, be getting the real magical me. Yes, ladies and gentlemen, I have great pleasure and pride in announcing that this September, I will be taking up the post of Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry!"

The crowd cheered and clapped and Harry found himself being presented with the entire works of Gilderoy Lockhart.

"Bet you loved that, didn't you, Potter?" Draco sneered, walking down.

"Famous Harry Potter," said Daphne. "Can't even go into a bookshop without making the front page." Her voice had a mocking lilt to it.

"Leave him alone, he didn't want all that!" said a small red head who Hermione recognized as Ginevra Weasley. She was glaring at Draco.

"Potter, you've got yourself a girlfriend!" drawled Malfoy. Ginny went scarlet.

"Better than some mudblood limpet." Weasley sneered, and Hermione's hand flew to her mouth. It was the first time she had ever been called a mudblood by anyone. Tears pooled in her eyes, and her heart panged. Mudblood. Mudblood. Mudblood. That was what she was. She stumbled backwards, barely noticing that she was crying into Blaise's shoulder, who had joined them.

"It's alright Princess.'' he soothed, and Hermione slowly calmed down. This was Blaise, who was there for her just like all her friends.

"You'll pay for that." Draco sneered, worried about his friend.,

"Ron!" said Mr. Weasley, struggling over with Fred and George. "What are you doing? It's too crowded in here, let's go outside."

"Well, well, well - Arthur Weasley."

It was Mr. Malfoy. He stood with his hand on Draco's shoulder, sneering in just the same way.

"Lucius," said Mr. Weasley, nodding coldly.

"Your son needs to learn to keep his tounge. He called one of my son's friends a mudblood. I had thought your family was light."

"My son would never do that." Weasley sneered, and Hermione glared at them with watery eyes.

"Yes he did." she stated, her voice barely wavering.

"Busy time at the Ministry, I hear," said Mr. Malfoy. "All those raids... I hope they're paying you overtime?"

He reached into Ginny's cauldron and extracted, from amid the glossy Lockhart books, a very old, very battered copy of A Beginner's Guide to Transfiguration .

"Obviously not," Mr. Malfoy said. "Dear me, what's the use of being a disgrace to the name of wizard if they don't even pay you well for it?"

Mr. Weasley flushed darker than either Ron or Ginny.

"We have a very different idea of what disgraces the name of wizard, Malfoy," he said.

"Clearly," said Mr. Malfoy, his pale eyes straying to Mr. and Mrs. Moon, who were watching apprehensively. "The company you keep, Weasley... and I thought your family could sink no lower."

There was a thud of metal as Ginny's cauldron went flying; Mr. Weasley had thrown himself at Mr. Malfoy, knocking him backward into a bookshelf. Dozens of heavy spellbooks came thundering down on all their heads; there was a yell of, "Get him, Dad!" from Fred or George; Mrs. Weasley was shrieking, "No, Arthur, no!"; the crowd stampeded backward, knocking more shelves over; "Gentlemen, please - please!" cried the assistant, and then, louder than all-

"Break it up, there, gents, break it up-"

Hagrid was wading toward them through the sea of books. In an instant he had pulled Mr. Weasley and Mr. Malfoy apart. Mr. Weasley had a cut lip and Mr. Malfoy had been hit in the eye by an Encyclopedia of Toadstools . He was still holding Ginny's old Transfiguration book. He thrust it at her, his eyes glittering with malice.

"Here, girl - take your book - it's the best your father can give you -" Pulling himself out of Hagrid's grip he beckoned to Draco and swept from the shop.

"Idiots." Draco snarled later, hugging Hermione as she got a soothing tea from Mrs. Malfoy. "Attacking father and hurting Mione."

"But it's what I am." Hermione hiccupped a little. "Just a filthy little mudblood. I got so caught up in all my pureblood friends I forgot that I'm a muggleborn." She vaguely noticed the adult Malfoys leaving the room.

"Hermione," said Draco firmly, gripping her arms. "No matter what others say, you are not a mudblood. You hear me? Mudbloods are muggleborns like Lily Moon who have no respect for tradition. You are nothing like them. You are a Slytherin."

"How do you always know what to say?" Hermione sniffed, wiping her tears. "Thanks for calming me down. I guessed he used that word and the reality of my situation came crashing down."

"It's alright Princess." Draco soothed, and Hermione sipped her tea for the first time, barely noticing as the calming draught used put her to sleep.

Chapter Text

"Hermione!" Pansy shrieked as she entered the compartment, and Hermione hugged her with a giggle.

"What happened?" she asked, her large brown eyes searching Hermione's face. "Blaise sent me a letter about something."

"It's nothing." Hermione whispered quietly.

"Nothing?" Draco snorted. "Weasley called her a mudblood."

"WHAT!" Pansy shrieked, her voice deafening. Hermione winced.

"Shut up Pansy." Theo said irritably.

"Well we have to get revenge somehow!" she plotted

"Does Weasley have any relatives we can affect?" Draco asked.

"I don't want innocents to be hurt." said Hermione, but Pansy glared at her.

"The oaf called you a mudblood!"

Blood boiled in Hermione's ears. "Fine." she said, to angry at Weasley to care.

"Her sister!" said Blaise all of a sudden. "He has a sister. Maybe we can talk a younger Slytherin firstie into bribing the sorting hat."

"Excellent idea." Hermione grinned. "What house?"

"Hufflepuff."said Draco, and they laughed. Hufflepuff was a joke of a house to Slytherins. Maybe they used to be good, but they were loyal. However, they weren't loyal to anyone. This ended up with them being very naive.

"Excellent." Pansy praised. "Who will do the bribing?"

"My little sister is joining this year." said Daphne. "Astoria."

"Can you get her to do it?" Hermione asked eagerly.

"She'll want a favor." said Daphne skeptically. "And she's obsessed with you Draco."

"Me!" said Draco aghast. "I barely know her!"

"Yes, well she has it stuck in her mind that you're her soulmate."

"Fine." he grumbled.

When Daphne came back she was laughing. "One kiss!" she gasped, barely catching her breath. "She want's one kiss!"

"WHAT!" Draco yelped in a high pitched voice.

"Please?" Hermione begged, giving him doe eyes.

"Fine." he grumbled. "But at Christmas Break so that I don't have to put up with the rumours and gossip."

"Your sister's a bloody harpy." commented Pansy, and Daphne glared.

"Don't call her that." she said in a tight voice. "Only I can call her that."

"Fine." Pansy relented, rolling her eyes.

"Excuse me?" the group heard the bossy voice of Lily Moon say as she entered their compartment. "Have you seen Harry or Ron?" she asked.

"Obviously not." Draco drawled.

"Get out." snarled Daphne.

"Hmph. SO rude!" she flounced off

At Hogwarts Hermione took the carriages into the school.

"It's nice to be back." she grinned, and Theo smiled.

Soon the Sorting started. Hogwarts was just like Hermione remembered. Innumerable candles were hovering in midair over four long, crowded tables, making the golden plates and goblets sparkle. Overhead, the bewitched ceiling, which always mirrored the sky outside, sparkled with stars.

Through the forest of pointed black Hogwarts hats, Hermione saw a long line of scared-looking first years filing into the Hall. Ginny was among them, easily visible because of her vivid Weasley hair. Meanwhile, Professor McGonagall, a bespectacled witch with her hair in a tight bun, was placing the famous Hogwarts Sorting Hat on a stool before the newcomers.

Every year, this aged old hat, patched, frayed, and dirty, sorted new students into the four Hogwarts houses (Gryffindor, Hufflepuff, Ravenclaw, and Slytherin). Hermione well remembered putting it on, exactly one year ago, and waiting, petrified, for its decision as it muttered aloud in her ear. Eventually it put her in Slytherin.

A very small, mousy-haired boy had been called forward to place the hat on his head. Hermione's eyes wandered past him to where Professor Dumbledore, the headmaster, sat watching the Sorting from the staff table, his long silver beard and half-moon glasses shining brightly in the candlelight. Several seats along, Hermione saw Gilderoy Lockhart, dressed in robes of aquamarine. And there at the end was Hagrid, huge and hairy, drinking deeply from his goblet. Soon the mousy boy was sorted into Gryffindor.

Astoria went up, and after a few minutes she was sorted into Slytherin. She winked at Daphne.

"Perfect." Hermione smirked. Soon Ginny Weasley was called up. She was a slip of a girl with flaming red hair and a freckled face. After a few minutes, the Sorting Hat called, "HUFFLEPUFF!"

Hufflepuff cheered, but Hermione saw the Weasley's silent. Their sister in Hufflepuff? The house of duffers? Ginny looked rather defeated as she slunk down to her table.

"Wait… Where's Snape?" Draco asked.

"Hmm. I don't know." said Pansy.

"I dunno." Goyle grunted.

Soon the Sorting was over and Blaise pulled out the Evening Prophet. "Look!" he whispered.

FLYING FORD ANGLIA MYSTIFIES MUGGLES.

He began to read aloud: "Two Muggles in London, convinced they saw an old car flying over the Post Office tower... at noon in Norfolk, Mrs. Hetty Bayliss, while hanging out her washing... Mr. Angus Fleet, of Peebles, reported to police... Six or seven Muggles in all.

"That must be where Weasley is!" Hermione exclaimed.

"You know, his father works in the Misuse of Muggle Artifacts Department. What if you told your dad?" offered Theo grinning evilly, in a way that would make most Hufflepuffs wet their pants.

"He would lose his job at the least." said Daphne, catching on.

"Look!" said Crabbe, and they watched as Snape took McGonagall out of the hall. A while later, Dumbledore left too.

"They're in trouble." Hermione sang.

"Show it to the rest of the table." said Draco, and Blaise passed it on. Soon the Slytherins were full of evil laughter and snickers as they read the article.

"To your houses!" said Dumbledore when he came back, and Hermione walked back with her friends to her house. Snuggling herself into the large plushy bed, she immediately dozed off.

The next day Hermione woke up as usual, showered, pulled her hair back with a headband, and went down to meet her friends. In the Great Hall, The four long house tables were laden with tureens of porridge, plates of kippers, mountains of toast, and dishes of eggs and bacon, beneath the enchanted ceiling (today, a dull, cloudy gray).

"Why are they here?" Draco hissed.

"They should have been expelled." scowled Daphne.

Hermione had only just started her porridge when, sure enough, there was a rushing sound overhead and a hundred or so owls streamed in, circling the hall and dropping letters and packages into the chattering crowd.

Suddenly, a huge roar filled the hall, shaking the ceilings.

"-STEALING THE CAR, I WOULDN'T HAVE BEEN SURPRISED IF THEY'D EXPELLED YOU, YOU WAIT TILL I GET HOLD OF YOU, I DON'T SUPPOSE YOU STOPPED TO THINK WHAT YOUR FATHER AND I WENT THROUGH WHEN WE SAW IT WAS GONE-"

"-LETTER FROM DUMBLEDORE LAST NIGHT, I THOUGHT YOUR FATHER WOULD DIE OF SHAME, WE DIDN'T BRING YOU UP TO BEHAVE LIKE THIS, YOU AND HARRY COULD BOTH HAVE DIED-"

"-ABSOLUTELY DISGUSTED - YOUR FATHER'S FACING AN INQUIRY AT WORK, IT'S ENTIRELY YOUR FAULT AND IF YOU PUT ANOTHER TOE OUT OF LINE WE'LL BRING YOU STRAIGHT BACK HOME."

A ringing silence fell. The red envelope, which had dropped from Ron's hand, burst into flames and curled into ashes. A few people laughed and, gradually, a babble of talk broke out again.

"Can you believe those oafs?" snorted Pansy.

"Idiots." Hermione agreed.

But she had no time to dwell on this; Professor Snape was moving along the Slytherin table, handing out course schedules. Harry took hers and saw that they had double Herbology with the Hufflepuffs first.

"Miss Granger, our lessons will continue Thursdays, same place same time." he said.

"Thank you sir!'' she exclaimed, brightening up.

Hermione, Draco, Theo, Pansy, Daphne, and Blaise left the castle together, crossed the vegetable patch, and made for the greenhouses, where the magical plants were kept. This was one of Daphne's favorite subjects, while the rest of them preferred intellectual classes; Pansy just didn't like dirt.

As they neared the greenhouses they saw the rest of the class standing outside, waiting for Professor Sprout. Hermione and her friends had only just joined them when she came striding into view across the lawn, accompanied by Gilderoy Lockhart. Professor Sprout's arms were full of bandages, and Hermione spotted the Whomping Willow in the distance, several of it's branches damaged.

"So that's where they crashed." mused Blaise.

Professor Sprout was a squat little witch who wore a patched hat over her flyaway hair; there was usually a large amount of earth on her clothes and her fingernails were covered in dirt. Gilderoy Lockhart, however, was immaculate in sweeping robes of turquoise, his golden hair shining under a perfectly positioned turquoise hat with gold trimming.

"Oh, hello there!" he called, beaming around at the assembled students. "Just been showing Professor Sprout the right way to doctor a Whomping Willow! But I don't want you running away with the idea that I'm better at Herbology than she is! I just happen to have met several of these exotic plants on my travels..."

"Greenhouse three today, chaps!" said Professor Sprout, who was looking distinctly disgruntled, not at all her usual cheerful self.

There was a murmur of interest. They had only ever worked in greenhouse one before - greenhouse three housed far more interesting and dangerous plants. Professor Sprout took a large key from her belt and unlocked the door. Hermione caught a whiff of damp earth and fertilizer mingling with the heavy perfume of some giant, umbrella-sized flowers dangling from the ceiling.

Professor Sprout was standing behind a trestle bench in the center of the greenhouse. About twenty pairs of different-colored ear muffs were lying on the bench. When Hermione took her place between Theo and Pansy, she said, "We'll be repotting Mandrakes today. Now, who can tell me the properties of the Mandrake?"

Hermione's hand was first into the air.

"Mandrake, or Mandragora, is a powerful restorative," said Hermione. "It is used to return people who have been transfigured or cursed to their original state."

"Excellent. Ten points to Slytherin," said Professor Sprout. "The Mandrake forms an essential part of most antidotes. It is also, however, dangerous. Who can tell me why?"

Hermione's hand shot up again.

"The cry of the Mandrake is fatal to anyone who hears it," she said promptly.

"Precisely. Take another ten points," said Professor Sprout. "Now, the Mandrakes we have here are still very young."

She pointed to a row of deep trays as she spoke, and everyone shuffled forward for a better look. A hundred or so tufty little plants, purplish green in color, were growing there in rows. They looked quite unremarkable, but Hermione knew better.

"Everyone take a pair of earmuffs," said Professor Sprout.

There was a scramble as everyone tried to seize a pair that wasn't pink and fluffy.

"When I tell you to put them on, make sure your ears are completely covered," said Professor Sprout. "When it is safe to remove them, I will give you the thumbs-up. Right - earmuffs on ."

Hermione snapped the earmuffs over her ears. They shut out sound completely. Professor Sprout put the pink, fluffy pair over her own ears, rolled up the sleeves of her robes, grasped one of the tufty plants firmly, and pulled hard.

Instead of roots, a small, muddy, and extremely ugly baby popped out of the earth. The leaves were growing right out of his head. He had pale green, mottled skin, and was clearly bawling at the top of his lungs.

Professor Sprout took a large plant pot from under the table and plunged the Mandrake into it, burying him in dark, damp compost until only the tufted leaves were visible. Professor Sprout dusted off her hands, gave them all the thumbs-up, and removed her own earmuffs.

"As our Mandrakes are only seedlings, their cries won't kill yet," she said calmly as though she'd just done nothing more exciting than water a begonia. "However, they will knock you out for several hours, and as I'm sure none of you want to miss your first day back, make sure your earmuffs are securely in place while you work. I will attract your attention when it is time to pack up.

"Four to a tray - there is a large supply of pots here - compost in the sacks over there - and be careful of the Venemous Tentacula, it's teething."

She gave a sharp slap to a spiky, dark red plant as she spoke, making it draw in the long feelers that had been inching sneakily over her shoulder.

"Ready?" said Daphne to Hermione, Blaise, and Theo.

"Ready." said Blaise, and Theo pulled.

Professor Sprout had made it look extremely easy, but it wasn't. The Mandrakes didn't like coming out of the earth, but didn't seem to want to go back into it either. They squirmed, kicked, flailed their sharp little fists, and gnashed their teeth. By the end of the class, Hermione, like everyone else, was sweaty, aching, and covered in earth. Everyone traipsed back to the castle for a quick wash and then the Slytherins hurried off to Transfiguration.

After turning her beetle into a button, Hermione joked around with Pansy and Draco for the rest of class. Soon the bell rang, and Hermione traipsed off to lunch.

"What've we got this afternoon?" said Blaise, hastily changing the subject from Draco and Pansy's arguement about who was stupider, Weasley or Potter.

"Defense Against the Dark Arts," said Hermione at once.

"Why , "demanded Theo, seizing her schedule, "have you outlined all Lockhart's lessons in little hearts?"

Hermione snatched the schedule back, blushing furiously. They finished lunch and went outside into the overcast courtyard.

"Look!" pointed Draco, and Hermione looked. The small mousy boy from the Sorting was asking Potter for signed photos.

"Don't need to inflate his head more." Hermione muttered in annoyance, and they walked to him,her, Draco, Crabbe, and Goyle.

"Signed photos? You're giving out signed photos , Potter?" Draco's voice echoed around the Courtyard.

"Everyone line up!" Draco roared to the crowd. "Harry Potter's giving out signed photos!"

"No, I'm not," said Harry angrily, his fists clenching. "Shut up, Malfoy."

"You're just jealous," piped up Colin, whose entire body was about as thick as Crabbe's neck.

"Jealous?" said Hermione, who didn't need to shout; half the courtyard was listening. "Of what? That because of you dear mom and dad are dead and all you have left is a scar?" her voice was mocking.

Crabbe and Goyle were sniggering.

"Eat slugs, Granger," said Ron angrily. Crabbe stopped laughing and started rubbing his knuckles in a menacing way.

"Be careful, Weasley," sneered Malfoy. "You don't want to start any trouble or your Mommy'll have to come and take you away from school." He put on a shrill, piercing voice. " If you put another toe out of line -"

A knot of Slytherin fifth-years nearby laughed loudly at this.

"Weasley would like a signed photo, Potter," smirked Malfoy. "It'd be worth more than his family's whole house-"

Ron whipped out his Spellotaped wand.

"I don't think a wand will work properly with spellotape." she said.

"Look out!" whispered Moon, and the group retreated into the shadows.

"What's all this, what's all this?" Gilderoy Lockhart was striding toward them, his turquoise robes swirling behind him. "Who's giving out signed photos?"

Lockhart flung an arm around his shoulders and thundered jovially, "Shouldn't have asked! We meet again, Harry!"

"Idiots." snickered Blaise, and they went to DADA.

When the whole class was seated, Lockhart cleared his throat loudly and silence fell. He reached forward, picked up Gregory Goyle's copy of Travels with Trolls , and held it up to show his own, winking portrait on the front.

"Me," he said, pointing at it and winking as well. "Gilderoy Lockhart, Order of Merlin, Third Class, Honorary Member of the Dark Force Defense League, and five-time winner of Witch Weekly's Most Charming Smile Award but I don't talk about that. I didn't get rid of the Bandon Banshee by smiling at her!"

He waited for them to laugh; a few people smiled weakly.

"I see you've all bought a complete set of my books - well done. I thought we'd start today with a little quiz. Nothing to worry about - just to check how well you've read them, how much you've taken in-"

When he had handed out the test papers he returned to the front of the class and said, "You have thirty minutes - start - now!"

Hermione looked down at her paper and read:

1. What is Gilderoy Lockhart's favorite color?

2. What is Gilderoy Lockhart's secret ambition?

3. What, in your opinion, is Gilderoy Lockhart's greatest achievement to date?

On and on it went, over three sides of paper, right down to:

54. When is Gilderoy Lockhart's birthday, and what would his ideal gift be?

Half an hour later, Lockhart collected the papers and rifled through them in front of the class.

"Tut, tut - hardly any of you remembered that my favorite color is lilac. I say so in Year with the Yeti . And a few of you need to read Wanderings with Werewolves more carefully - I clearly state in chapter twelve that my ideal birthday gift would be harmony between all magic and non-magic peoples - though I wouldn't say no to a large bottle of Ogden's Old Firewhisky!"

He gave them another roguish wink. Draco was now staring at Lockhart with an expression of disbelief on his face; Blaise Zabini and Theo Nott, who were sitting in front, were shaking with silent laughter. Hermione, on the other hand, was listening to Lockhart with rapt attention and gave a start when he mentioned her name.

"... but Miss Hermione Granger knew my secret ambition is to rid the world of evil and market my own range of hair-care potions - good girl! In fact" - he flipped her paper over - "full marks! Where is Miss Hermione Granger?"

Hermione raised a trembling hand. Draco glared at him.

"Excellent!" beamed Lockhart. "Quite excellent! Take ten points for Slytherin! And so - to business-"

He bent down behind his desk and lifted a large, covered cage onto it.

"Now - be warned! It is my job to arm you against the foulest creatures known to wizardkind! You may find yourselves facing your worst fears in this room. Know only that no harm can befall you whilst I am here. All I ask is that you remain calm."

Hermione leaned around her books for a better look at the cage. Lockhart placed a hand on the cover. Blaise and Theo had stopped laughing now. Goyle was cowering in his front row seat.

"I must ask you not to scream," said Lockhart in a low voice. "It might provoke them."

As the whole class held its breath, Lockhart whipped off the cover.

"Yes," he said dramatically. "Freshly caught Cornish pixies."

Theo couldn't control himself. He let out a snort of laughter that even Lockhart couldn't mistake for a scream of terror.

"Yes?" He smiled at Theo.

"Well, they're not - they're not very - dangerous , are they?" Theo choked.

"Don't be so sure!" said Lockhart, waggling a finger annoyingly at Theo. "Devilish tricky little blighters they can be!"

The pixies were electric blue and about eight inches high, with pointed faces and voices so shrill it was like listening to a lot of budgies arguing. The moment the cover had been removed, they had started jabbering and rocketing around, rattling the bars and making bizarre faces at the people nearest them.

"Right, then," Lockhart said loudly. "Let's see what you make of them!" And he opened the cage.

It was pandemonium. The pixies shot in every direction like rockets. Several shot straight through the window, showering the back row with broken glass. The rest proceeded to wreck the classroom more effectively than a rampaging rhino. They grabbed ink bottles and sprayed the class with them, shredded books and papers, tore pictures from the walls, up-ended the waste basket, grabbed bags and books and threw them out of the smashed window.

Hermione rolled her eyes and just left the classroom.

"Come on now - round them up, round them up, they're only pixies," Lockhart shouted as she left.

He rolled up his sleeves, brandished his wand, and bellowed, " Peskipiksi Pesternomi! "

"Is that even a real spell?" Draco rolled his eyes.

Chapter Text

"Hermione Hermione Hermione!" Draco yelled, bounding into her room and jumping on the bed. With a shriek Hermione woke up, shoving him off the bed.

"WHAT?" she screamed, very unhappy at having been woken up at 6 in the morning for this.

"Quidditch Practice." he said with a hyperactive grin.

"I don't care." she groaned. "Let me sleep."

"You have to come." he pouted. "Pleeeeeeeeeeeaaaaaaaaaase?" Hermione glared at his pouty face.

"Fine." she grumbled, getting out and pulling on some clothes.

"Come on." she said once she was ready, and they walked down to the pitch.

"Hey Hermione." grinned Marcus Flint.

"Hey Marcus." Hermione smiled.

When they got on the field, the Gryffindor team was already up there.

"What?" Marcus cried in outrage. "I have a note saying that the Pitch is ours!"

"Well now you have to argue about it." muttered Miles Bletchely, the Keeper.

"Flint!" Wood bellowed at the Slytherin Captain. "This is our practice time! We got up specially! You can clear off now!"

Hermione saw the rest of the team glaring at them.

Marcus Flint was even larger than Wood. He had a look of cunning on his face as he replied, "Plenty of room for all of us, Wood."

The three Gryffindor Chasers Angelina Johnson, Katie Bell, and Alicia Spinnet had come over, too. There were no girls on the Slytherin team, who stood shoulder to shoulder, facing the Gryffindors, leering to a man.

"But I booked the field!" said Wood, positively spitting with rage. "I booked it!"

"Ah," said Flint. "But I've got a specially signed note here from Professor Snape. I, Professor S. Snape, give the Slytherin team permission to practice today on the Quidditch field owing to the need to train their new Seeker'. "

"You've got a new Seeker?" said Wood, distracted. "Where?"

And from behind the six large figures before them came a seventh, smaller boy, smirking all over his pale, pointed face. It was Draco Malfoy.

"Aren't you Lucius Malfoy's son?" said a Weasley, looking at Malfoy with dislike.

"Funny you should mention Draco's father," said Flint as the whole Slytherin team smiled still more broadly. "Let me show you the generous gift he's made to the Slytherin team."

All seven of them held out their broomsticks. Seven highly polished, brand-new handles and seven sets of fine gold lettering spelling the words Nimbus Two Thousand and One gleamed under the Gryffindors'noses in the early morning sun.

"Very latest model. Only came out last month," said Flint carelessly, flicking a speck of dust from the end of his own. "I believe it outstrips the old Two Thousand series by a considerable amount. As for the old Cleansweeps" - he smiled nastily at Fred and George, who were both clutching Cleansweep Fives -" sweeps the board with them."

"What's she doing here?" Potter asked, glaring at Hermione.

Hermione sniffed. "I'm here for support."

"Oh, look," said Flint. "A field invasion."

Ron and Lily were crossing the grass to see what was going on.

"What's happening?" Ron asked Harry. "Why aren't you playing? And what's he doing here?"

"I'm the new Slytherin Seeker, Weasley," said Malfoy, smugly. "Everyone's just been admiring the brooms my father's bought our team.

Ron gaped, open-mouthed, at the seven superb broomsticks in front of him.

"As if he could ever afford them." Hermione snorted, and the team burst into laughter.

"Good, aren't they?" said Malfoy smoothly. "But perhaps the Gryffindor team will be able to raise some gold and get new brooms, too. You could raffle off those Cleansweep Fives; I expect a museum would bid for them."

The Slytherin team howled with laughter.

"At least no one on the Gryffindor team had to buy their way in," said Moon sharply. " They got in on pure talent."

"No one asked your opinion, you filthy little Mudblood," he spat.

There was an uproar at his words. Flint had to dive in front of Draco to stop Fred and George jumping on him, Alicia shrieked, "How dare you!" and Ron plunged his hand into his robes, pulled out his wand, yelling, "You'll pay for that one, Malfoy!" and pointed it furiously under Flint's arm at Malfoys face.

A loud bang echoed around the stadium and a jet of green light shot out of the wrong end of Ron's wand, hitting him in the stomach and sending him reeling backward onto the grass.

"Ron! Ron! Are you all right?" squealed Lily.

Ron opened his mouth to speak, but no words came out. Instead he gave an almighty belch and several slugs dribbled out of his mouth onto his lap.

"Idiots." Hermione snorted, laughing with the team.

"And you're alright with this?" Potter asked, glaring at her again.

"You'll find that I have never been called Mudblood by a Slytherin, though I have been called that by Gryffindors." Hermione stated.

Potter and Moon took Weasley off the field, and the Gryffs left.

"Come on guys!" yelled Marcus. "Practice!"

The team took to the air, and Hermione noticed for the first time how good Draco was at flying. They swooped and dodged, the beaters whacking the bludgers as hard as they could. Then, it happened. One beater, Randy Derrick missed a bludger and it hit his face full on. With a wave of his wand Marcus paused the balls.

"Are you alright?" Bole, his fellow beater asked.

Derrick had a bloody nose and a black eye.

"Here!" said Hermione hurrying forward, pulling out her wand. The team stepped back.

"Prohibere Sanguinem." she murmured. "Coalesco. Autum Cicatrix."

Slowly, his bruise disappeared and his nose healed.

"Bloody hell!" Warrington, a chaser, exclaimed. "Even I don't know those?"

"I look up a lot of healing spells because I want to help when people get hurt." Hermione exclaimed.

"Could you do this more often?" said Marcus with a contemplative look on his face.

"What do you mean?" Hermione asked.

"I mean that people are always getting hurt during practice, and when they do we end up having to end. Now we can continue. If you could join us more often and help…"

"Like a team Healer?"

"Precisely."

"I'd love to." grinned Hermione.

October arrived, spreading a damp chill over the grounds and into the castle. Madam Pomfrey, the nurse, was kept busy by a sudden spate of colds among the staff and students. Her Pepperup potion worked instantly, though it left the drinker smoking at the ears for several hours afterward. Hermione had been put in charge of brewing all the Pepperup Potions for the infirmary by Snape, and she had almost 12 cauldrons burning at a time.

Raindrops the size of bullets thundered on the castle windows for days on end; the lake rose, the flower beds turned into muddy streams, and Hagrid's pumpkins swelled to the size of garden sheds. Marcus Flint's enthusiasm for regular training sessions, however, was not dampened, which was why Hermione was to be found, late one stormy Saturday afternoon a few days before Halloween, returning to Slytherin Dungeon, accompanying a team that was drenched with mud and chilled to the bone. Hermione was looking up charms that would stop the rain from affecting them.

Other than that, it was an amazing practice session. The Slytherin team was no more than seven greenish blurs, shooting through the air like missiles.

Halloween had arrived and Hermione looked around the Great Hall; the Great Hall had been decorated with the usual live bats, Hagrid's vast pumpkins had been carved into lanterns large enough for three men to sit in, and there were rumors that Dumbledore had booked a troupe of dancing skeletons for the entertainment.

The rumors were true, Hermione laughed with Pansy and her other friends as the skeletons performed the Macarena. The feast was over much too quickly, and they left the hall. Suddenly, the crowd stopped.

"What's going on?" Daphne asked, and the group pushed their way to the front.

Foot-high words had been daubed on the wall between two windows, shimmering in the light cast by the flaming torches.

THE CHAMBER OF SECRETS HAS BEEN OPENED. ENEMIES OF THE HEIR, BEWARE

Mrs. Norris, the caretaker's cat, was hanging by her tail from the torch bracket above the message. She was stiff as a board, her eyes wide and staring. Potter, Weasley, and Moon were standing at the scene, looking scared.

What's going on here? What's going on?"

Argus Filch came shouldering his way through the crowd. Then he saw Mrs. Norris and fell back, clutching his face in horror.

"My cat! My cat! What's happened to Mrs. Norris?" he shrieked. Hermione felt a small pang of pity for him. His cat was dead or petrified.

And his popping eyes fell on Harry.

"You!"he screeched. " You ! You've murdered my cat! You've killed her! I'll kill you! I'll-"

"Argus!"

Dumbledore had arrived on the scene, followed by a number of other teachers. In seconds, he had swept past Harry, Ron, and Lily and detached Mrs. Norris from the torch bracket.

"Come with me, Argus," he said to Filch. "You, too, Mr. Potter, Mr. Weasley, Miss Moon."

Lockhart stepped forward eagerly.

"My office is nearest, Headmaster - just upstairs - please feel free-"

"Thank you, Gilderoy," said Dumbledore.

The silent crowd parted to let them pass. Lockhart, looking excited and important, hurried after Dumbledore; so did Professors McGonagall and Snape.

Back in the Common Room the Slytherins were having a house meeting.

"No one travels alone." said Rodney Knight, the Head boy. "Everyone travels in pairs or trios. Most of us are purebloods, but there is still danger. Hermione, you go no where alone."

"But what is the Chamber of Secrets?" Hermione asked.

"No one knows exactly what it is, only that it was Salazar Slytherin's secret chamber." said Chastity Knight, Rodney's younger sister, a first year.

"Did Potter do it?" asked another first year.

"No way!" Theo snorted. "He's too stupid."

For a few days, the school could talk of little else but the attack on Mrs. Norris. Filch kept it fresh in everyone's minds by pacing the spot where she had been attacked, as though he thought the attacker might come back. Hermione had seen him scrubbing the message on the wall with Mrs. Skower's All-Purpose Magical Mess Remover, but to no effect; the words still gleamed as brightly as ever on the stone. When Filch wasn't guarding the scene of the crime, he was skulking red-eyed through the corridors, lunging out at unsuspecting students and trying to put them in detention for things like "breathing loudly'and "looking happy."

Hermione had started working on nearly OWL level potions in her Potion Lessons, and she was preparing the basis for the Mandrake draught with him. Mandrake essence wasn't added until the end.

Hermione was also spending all her time in the library.

"What are you even looking for?" Blaise asked.

"Hogwarts, a History. To read up on the Chamber of Secrets, but I left it at home!"

The bell rang, and Hermione went to History of Magic, accompanied by her friends, of whom Theo and Pansy were bickering about another small thing.

History of Magic was the dullest subject on their schedule. Professor Binns, who taught it, was their only ghost teacher, and the most exciting thing that ever happened in his classes was his entering the room through the blackboard. Ancient and shriveled, many people said he hadn't noticed he was dead. He had simply got up to teach one day and left his body behind him in an armchair in front of the staff room fire; his routine had not varied in the slightest since.

Today was as boring as ever. Professor Binns opened his notes and began to read in a flat drone like an old vacuum cleaner until nearly everyone in the class was in a deep stupor, occasionally coming to long enough to copy down a name or date, then falling asleep again. He had been speaking for half an hour when something happened that had never happened before. Hermione put up her hand.

Professor Binns, glancing up in the middle of a deadly dull lecture on the International Warlock Convention of 1289, looked amazed.

"Miss - er -?"

"Granger, Professor. I was wondering if you could tell us anything about the Chamber of Secrets," said Hermione in a clear voice.

Vincent Crabbe, who had been sitting with his mouth hanging open, gazing out of the window, jerked out of his trance; Daphne Greengrass's head came up off her arms and Draco Malfoy's elbow slipped off his desk.

Professor Binns blinked.

"My subject is History of Magic," he said in his dry, wheezy voice. "I deal with facts , Miss Granger, not myths and legends." He cleared his throat with a small noise like chalk slipping and continued, "In September of that year, a subcommittee of Sardinian sorcerers-"

He stuttered to a halt. Hermione's hand was waving in the air again.

"Miss Grant?"

"Please, sir, don't legends always have a basis in fact?"

Professor Binns was looking at her in such amazement, Hermione was sure no student had ever interrupted him before, alive or dead.

"Well," said Professor Binns slowly, "yes, one could argue that, I suppose." He peered at Hermione as though he had never seen a student properly before. "However, the legend of which you speak is such a very sensational , even ludicrous tale-"

But the whole class was now hanging on Professor Binns's every word. He looked dimly at them all, every face turned to his. Hermione could tell he was completely thrown by such an unusual show of interest.

"Oh, very well," he said slowly. "Let me see... the Chamber of Secrets...

"You all know, of course, that Hogwarts was founded over a thousand years ago - the precise date is uncertain - by the four greatest witches and wizards of the age. The four school Houses are named after them: Godric Gryffindor, Helga Hufflepuff, Rowena Ravenclaw, and Salazar Slytherin. They built this castle together, far from prying Muggle eyes, for it was an age when magic was feared by common people, and witches and wizards suffered much persecution."

He paused, gazed blearily around the room, and continued.

"For a few years, the founders worked in harmony together, seeking out youngsters who showed signs of magic and bringing them to the castle to be educated. But then disagreements sprang up between them. A rift began to grow between Slytherin and the others. Slytherin wished to be more selective about the students admitted to Hogwarts. He believed that magical learning should be kept within all-magic families. He disliked taking students of Muggle parentage, believing them to be untrustworthy. After a while, there was a serious argument on the subject between Slytherin and Gryffindor, and Slytherin left the school."

Professor Binns paused again, pursing his lips, looking like a wrinkled old tortoise.

"Reliable historical sources tell us this much," he said. "But these honest facts have been obscured by the fanciful legend of the Chamber of Secrets. The story goes that Slytherin had built a hidden chamber in the castle, of which the other founders knew nothing.

"Slytherin, according to the legend, sealed the Chamber of Secrets so that none would be able to open it until his own true heir arrived at the school. The heir alone would be able to unseal the Chamber of Secrets, unleash the horror within, and use it to purge the school of all who were unworthy to study magic."

There was silence as he finished telling the story, but it wasn't the usual, sleepy silence that filled Professor Binns's classes. There was unease in the air as everyone continued to watch him, hoping for more. Professor Binns looked faintly annoyed.

"The whole thing is arrant nonsense, of course," he said. "Naturally, the school has been searched for evidence of such a chamber, many times, by the most learned witches and wizards. It does not exist. A tale told to frighten the gullible."

Hermione's hand was back in the air.

"Sir - what exactly do you mean by the horror within the Chamber?"

"That is believed to be some sort of monster, which the Heir of Slytherin alone can control," said Professor Binns in his dry, reedy voice.

The class exchanged nervous looks.

"I tell you, the thing does not exist," said Professor Binns, shuffling his notes. "There is no Chamber and no monster."

"But, sir," said Millicent Bulstrode, "if the Chamber can only be opened by Slytherin's true heir, no one else would be able to find it, would they?"

"Nonsense, Butch," said Professor Binns in an aggravated tone. "If a long succession of Hogwarts headmasters and headmistresses haven't found the thing-"

"But, Professor," piped up Pansy Parkinson, "you'd probably have to use Dark Magic to open it-"

"Just because a wizard doesn't use Dark Magic doesn't mean he can't , Miss Pennyfeather," snapped Professor Binns. "I repeat, if the likes of Dumbledore-"

"But maybe you've got to be related to Slytherin, so Dumbledore couldn't -" began Draco Malfoy, but Professor Binns had had enough.

"That will do," he said sharply. "It is a myth! It does not exist! There is not a shred of evidence that Slytherin ever built so much as a secret broom cupboard! I regret telling you such a foolish story! We will return, if you please, to history , to solid, believable, verifiable fact!"

And within five minutes, the class had sunk back into its usual torpor.

"So that's what the Chamber of Secrets is." Hermione said. "Now we have to figure out what's in it."

"Please don't tell me you're going to live in the library again." Blaise groaned.

Hermione just flounced off to the library.

Chapter Text

Since the disastrous episode of the pixies, Professor Lockhart had not brought live creatures to class. Instead, he read passages from his books to them, and sometimes reenacted some of the more dramatic bits. He usually picked Harry to help him with these reconstructions; so far, Harry had been forced to play a simple Transylvanian villager whom Lockhart had cured of a Babbling Curse, a yeti with a head cold, and a vampire who had been unable to eat anything except lettuce since Lockhart had dealt with him.

Harry was hauled to the front of the class during their very next Defense Against the Dark Arts lesson, this time acting a werewolf.

"Nice loud howl, Harry - exactly - and then, if you'll believe it, I pounced - like this - slammed him to the floor - thus with one hand, I managed to hold him down - with my other, I put my wand to his throat - I then screwed up my remaining strength and performed the immensely complex Homorphus Charm- he let out a piteous moan - go on, Harry - higher than that - good - the fur vanished - the fangs shrank - and he turned back into a man. Simple, yet effective - and another village will remember me forever as the hero who delivered them from the monthly terror of werewolf attacks."

The bell rang and Lockhart got to his feet.

"Homework - compose a poem about my defeat of the Wagga Wagga Werewolf! Signed copies of Magical Me to the author of the best one!"

"These have become my favorite lessons." Theo sniggered. "Watching Potter get humiliated."

The first Quidditch match of the Season was coming up- Slytherin v Gryffindor.

"Why is it always those two?" Hermione asked.

"Dumbledore likes watching us lose to his precious golden boys." Pansy replied.

As eleven o'clock approached, the whole school started to make its way down to the Quidditch stadium. It was a muggy sort of day with a hint of thunder in the air. Hermione had been allowed to sit on the sidelines as the team healer.

As the teams walked out, all the crowd except for the Slytherins booed, and Hermione again saw all the segregation against Slytherins.

"On my whistle," said Madam Hooch. "Three... two... one..."

With a roar from the crowd to speed them upward, the fourteen players rose toward the leaden sky. With their fast brooms, the Slytherins were dynamite. It had started to rain, but the Snakes were still leading 60-0.

Then Gryffindor called a timeout and the teams descended.

"Here!" said Hermione. "Warming Charms, and a water repelling charm. This should keep you good. "Calidum! Impervius!"

Soon all the Snakes were dry like there was no rain, and Hermione did the same to their brooms and bats.

"Excellent." Marcus grinned, and they shot into the air.

The rain was falling more heavily now. Then, Potter caught the Snitch.

"GRYFFINDOR WINS!" Lee Jordan roared, and Hermione groaned. Again!

The Slytherins came down in gloomy moods.

"Damn it." said Draco forlornly. Slowly, Hermione fixed all their bruises from the bludgers.

That evening, Colin Creevey was petrified.

"So it can't be Potter." concluded Hermione. "He would never attack a Gryffindor."

"The other Houses will suspect us." stated Daphne sadly.

"Why wouldn't they?" Pansy snorted. "After all, being cunning and ambitious means that we're evil, right?"

The news that Colin Creevey had been attacked and was now lying as though dead in the hospital wing had spread through the entire school by Monday morning. The air was suddenly thick with rumor and suspicion. The first years were now moving around the castle in tight-knit groups, as though scared they would be attacked if they ventured forth alone.

Meanwhile, hidden from the teachers, a roaring trade in talismans, amulets, and other protective devices was sweeping the school. Vincent Crabbe sold a large, evil-smelling green onion, a pointed purple crystal, and a rotting newt tail to Neville Longbottom, making nearly 50 galleons.

In the second week of December Professor McGonagall came around as usual, collecting names of those who would be staying at school for Christmas. Draco and Hermione signed up with Crabbe and Goyle, since his parents were going to India on a business trip.

Hermione sat in Potions class, making her Potion like always. Potions lessons took place in one of the large dungeons. Thursday afternoon's lesson proceeded in the usual way. Twenty cauldrons stood steaming between the wooden desks, on which stood brass scales and jars of ingredients. Snape prowled through the fumes, making waspish remarks about the Gryffindors work while the Slytherins sniggered appreciatively. Hermione, like always, had a perfect potion, and the others had started taking down notes on what she did. Her first and second year books had notes scribbled in the margins on all her changes, and Hermione hoped to bring these to the editors.

Suddenly, Goyle's potion exploded, showering the whole class. People shrieked as splashes of the Swelling Solution hit them. Malfoy got a faceful and his nose began to swell like a balloon; Goyle blundered around, his hands over his eyes, which had expanded to the size of a dinner plate - Snape was trying to restore calm and find out what had happened. Hermione had erected a shield around herself, but was looking around suspiciously. Greg was actually good at Potions, so what happened?

Whoever did this was stupid. This wasn't a prank, this could actually hurt people!

"Silence! SILENCE!" Snape roared. "Anyone who has been splashed, come here for a Deflating Draft - when I find out who did this-"

When everyone had taken a swig of antidote and the various swellings had subsided, Snape swept over to Goyle's cauldron and scooped out the twisted black remains of the firework. There was a sudden hush.

"If I ever find out who threw this," Snape whispered, "I shall make sure that person is expelled."

"Are you sure you don't know who threw it?" Theo persisted after class.

"No I don't for the 27th time!" Goyle exclaimed.

"Well it was horrible." said Draco. "That solution hurt."

A week later, Draco, Hermione, and Blaise were walking across the entrance hall when they saw a small knot of people gathered around the notice board, reading a piece of parchment that had just been pinned up. Pansy and Daphne beckoned them over, looking excited.

"They're starting a Dueling Club!" said Pansy. "First meeting tonight! I wouldn't mind dueling lessons; they might come in handy one of these days..."

"What, you reckon Slytherin's monster can duel?" said Draco, but he, too, read the sign with interest.

"Could be useful," he said to Blaise and Hermione as they went into dinner. "Shall we go?"

Blaise and Hermione were all for it, so at eight o'clock that evening they hurried back to the Great Hall. The long dining tables had vanished and a golden stage had appeared along one wall, lit by thousands of candles floating overhead. The ceiling was velvety black once more and most of the school seemed to be packed beneath it, all carrying their wands and looking excited.

"I wonder who'll be teaching us?" said Hermione as they edged into the chattering crowd. "Someone told me Flitwick was a dueling champion when he was young - maybe it'll be him."

"As long as it's not -" Draco began, but he ended on a groan: Gilderoy Lockhart was walking onto the stage, resplendent in robes of deep plum and accompanied by none other than Snape, wearing his usual black.

Lockhart waved an arm for silence and called "Gather round, gather round! Can everyone see me? Can you all hear me? Excellent!"

"Now, Professor Dumbledore has granted me permission to start this little dueling club, to train you all in case you ever need to defend yourselves as I myself have done on countless occasions - for full details, see my published works.

"Let me introduce my assistant, Professor Snape," said Lockhart, flashing a wide smile. "He tells me he knows a tiny little bit about dueling himself and has sportingly agreed to help me with a short demonstration before we begin. Now, I don't want any of you youngsters to worry - you'll still have your Potions master when I'm through with him, never fear!"

Snape's upper lip was curling. Hermione wondered why Lockhart was still smiling; if Snape had been looking at her like that she'd have been running as fast as she could in the opposite direction.

Lockhart and Snape turned to face each other and bowed; at least, Lockhart did, with much twirling of his hands, whereas Snape jerked his head irritably. Then they raised their wands like swords in front of them.

"As you see, we are holding our wands in the accepted combative position," Lockhart told the silent crowd. "On the count of three, we will cast our first spells. Neither of us will be aiming to kill, of course."

"I wouldn't bet on that," Blaise murmured, watching Snape baring his teeth.

"One - two - three-"

Both of them swung their wands above their heads and pointed them at their opponent; Snape cried: "Expelliarmus!" There was a dazzling flash of scarlet light and Lockhart was blasted off his feet: He flew backward off the stage, smashed into the wall, and slid down it to sprawl on the floor.

The Slytherins cheered, and Hermione looked at him in disbelief. "Now do you believe me when I say that Lockhart's a fraud?" asked Theo.

"I'll do more research, but my respect has gone down."

Lockhart was getting unsteadily to his feet. His hat had fallen off and his wavy hair was standing on end.

"Well, there you have it!" he said, tottering back onto the platform. "That was a Disarming Charm - as you see, I've lost my wand - ah, thank you, Miss Brown - yes, an excellent idea to show them that, Professor Snape, but if you don't mind my saying so, it was very obvious what you were about to do. If I had wanted to stop you it would have been only too easy - however, I felt it would be instructive to let them see..."

Snape was looking murderous. Possibly Lockhart had noticed, because he said, "Enough demonstrating! I'm going to come amongst you now and put you all into pairs. Professor Snape, if you'd like to help me-"

They moved through the crowd, matching up partners.

"I don't think so," said Snape, smiling coldly. "Mr. Malfoy, come over here. Let's see what you make of the famous Potter. And you, Miss Moon- you can partner Miss Granger. Weasley, with Mr Nott."

Draco strutted over, smirking. Hermione followed, smirking too at the petite redhead with blue eyes. Honestly, she looked too easy.

"Face your partners!" called Lockhart, back on the platform. "And bow!"

"Wands at the ready!" shouted Lockhart. "When I count to three, cast your charms to disarm your opponents - only to disarm them - we don't want any accidents - one ... two ... three-"

The room burst into chaos. With a quick spell, Hermione disarmed her opponent, and watched Draco's duel. Potter had started on two not three and hit him with Rictumsempra. Cheater!

"Stop! Stop!" screamed Lockhart, but Snape took charge. "Finite Incantatem!" he shouted; Harry's feet stopped dancing, Malfoy stopped laughing, and they were able to look up.

A haze of greenish smoke was hovering over the scene. Both Neville Longbottom and Justin Flinch Fletchely were lying on the floor, panting.

"Dear, dear," said Lockhart, skittering through the crowd, looking at the aftermath of the duels. "Up you go, Macmillan..."

"Careful there, Miss Fawcett... Pinch it hard, it'll stop bleeding in a second,"

"I think I'd better teach you how to block unfriendly spells," said Lockhart, standing flustered in the midst of the hall. He glanced at Snape, whose black eyes glinted, and looked quickly away. "Let's have a volunteer pair - Longbottom and Finch-Fletchley, how about you-"

"A bad idea, Professor Lockhart," said Snape, gliding over like a large and malevolent bat. "Longbottom causes devastation with the simplest spells. We'll be sending what's left of Finch-Fletchley up to the hospital wing in a matchbox." Neville's round, pink face went pinker. "How about Malfoy and Potter?" said Snape with a twisted smile.

"Excellent idea!" said Lockhart, gesturing Harry and Malfoy into the middle of the hall as the crowd backed away to give them room.

"Now, Harry," said Lockhart. "When Draco points his wand at you, you do this."

He raised his own wand, attempted a complicated sort of wiggling action, and dropped it. Snape smirked as Lockhart quickly picked it up, saying, "Whoops - my wand is a little overexcited-" Hermione smirked.

Snape moved closer to Draco, bent down, and whispered something in his ear. Malfoy smirked, too. Harry looked up nervously at Lockhart and said, "Professor, could you show me that blocking thing again?"

Lockhart cuffed Harry merrily on the shoulder. "Just do what I did, Harry!"

"Three - two - one - go!" he shouted.

Draco raised his wand quickly and bellowed, " Serpensortia!"

The end of his wand exploded. Harry watched, aghast, as a long black snake shot out of it, fell heavily onto the floor between them, and raised itself, ready to strike. There were screams as the crowd backed swiftly away, clearing the floor. Hermione gazed. It was a Coluber Constictor.

"Don't move, Potter," said Snape lazily, clearly enjoying the sight of Harry standing motionless, eye to eye with the angry snake. "I'll get rid of it..."

"Allow me!" shouted Lockhart. He brandished his wand at the snake and there was a loud bang; the snake, instead of vanishing, flew ten feet into the air and fell back to the floor with a loud smack. Enraged, hissing furiously, it slithered straight toward Justin Finch-Fletchley and raised itself again, fangs exposed, poised to strike.

Suddenly, Potter moved to it and started hissing.

"What do you think you're playing at?" Justin shouted. Justin turned and stormed out of the hall.

Snape stepped forward, waved his wand, and the snake vanished in a small puff of black smoke. With a pull, Pansy pulled her back to the Common Room, where they had another house meeting.

"This changes things." said Elan Parkinson. "With Potter a Parseltongue, it means that he probably is the Heir of Slytherin. He could attack us too."

"How could it be Potter though?" asked Adrian Pucey. "He's the Gryffindor Golden Boy."

"Maybe it's an act." said Terrence Higgs.

"Just watch him." said Blaise. "Pending further judgement."

Hermione was in Transfiguration watching McGonagall berate a Hufflepuff named Hannah Abbot for turning Susan Bones into a badger when she heard the unmistakable voice of Peeves.

"ATTACK! ATTACK! ANOTHER ATTACK! NO MORTAL OR GHOST IS SAFE! RUN FOR YOUR LIVES! ATTAAAACK!"

In fear and worry, the entire class went up to where the voice was. Susan still had black and white striped hair. Hermione gaped at the sight. Justin Finch-Fletchley was lying on the floor, rigid and cold, a look of shock frozen on his face, his eyes staring blankly at the ceiling. And that wasn't all. Next to him was another figure, the strangest sight Hermione had ever seen.

It was Nearly Headless Nick, no longer pearly-white and transparent, but black and smoky, floating immobile and horizontal, six inches off the floor. His head was half off and his face wore an expression of shock identical to Justin's.

"Caught in the act!" Ernie MacMillan yelled, his face stark white, pointing his finger dramatically at Harry.

"That will do, Macmillan!" said Professor McGonagall sharply.

Peeves was bobbing overhead, now grinning wickedly, surveying the scene; Peeves always loved chaos. As the teachers bent over Justin and Nearly Headless Nick, examining them, Peeves broke into song:

"Oh, Potter, you rotter, oh, what have you done, You're killing off students, you think it's good fun-"

"That's enough Peeves!" barked Professor McGonagall, and Peeves zoomed away backward, with his tongue out at Harry.

"Come on." whispered Pansy, and they had another House meeting.

"These are becoming regular, aren't they." remarked Hermione.

"Yes they are." grinned Derrick, and the room echoed with laughter.

"Seriously though, first Potter set the snake on him then he's found petrified." said Elan.

"But I really don't think he's strong enough to do that to a ghost." argued Draco.

"Maybe he's hiding his powers in class?" said Chastity Knight.

"Maybe." said Rodney with a grim look on his face.

The double attack on Justin and Nearly Headless Nick turned what had hitherto been nervousness into real panic. Curiously, it was Nearly Headless Nick's fate that seemed to worry people most. What could possibly do that to a ghost? people asked each other; what terrible power could harm someone who was already dead? There was almost a stampede to book seats on the Hogwarts Express so that students could go home for Christmas.

"At this rate, we'll be the only ones left," Draco told Hermione. "Us, Potter, Moon, and Weasley. What a jolly holiday it's going to be."

"And Elan." said Hermione. "He didn't want to go home, 'cause he wanted to study."

"And Flint. He wants to practice Quidditch." grunted Crabbe.

"And Rodney and Chastity." Draco remembered. "Their parents are in St. Mungos for spell damage so they have nowhere to go."

At last the term ended, and a silence deep as the snow on the grounds descended on the castle. Hermione found it peaceful, rather than gloomy, and enjoyed the fact that she could practice duelling and play Exploding Snap without disturbing anyone too much.

Chapter Text

Christmas morning dawned, cold and white.

"Presents!" squealed Draco, and Hermione giggled as she thought of how much he sounded like a girl. Daphne and Theo sent her books. Pansy sent her a beautiful dress. It was for the summer solstice, when the Malfoys were holding another dinner since they couldn't hold the Christmas one. Blaise sent her a thin silver choker with a diamond pendant on it, and Hermione had gaped at how expensive it looked. Draco sent her Potion ingredients and boxes of healing balms.

Christmas dinner was amazing. The Great Hall looked magnificent. Not only were there a dozen frost-covered Christmas trees and thick streamers of holly and mistletoe crisscrossing the ceiling, but enchanted snow was falling, warm and dry, from the ceiling. Dumbledore led them in a few of his favorite carols, Hagrid booming more and more loudly with every goblet of eggnog he consumed.

"Drunkard." Draco sneered.

"Have you seen Potter and Weasley's sweater." Hermione remarked.

They were ugly. Large and Lumpy with horrible colors and they all looked too large.

"Weasley's get them every year." said Elan.

"Where are they?" Hermione asked in the common room, worried about Crabbe and Goyle.

"Let's go look for them. I want to show them this." said Draco, and the two hurried out. Finally, they found him, and Draco started to speak.

"There you are," he drawled, looking at them. "Have you two been pigging out in the Great Hall all this time? I've been looking for you; I want to show you something really funny."

Draco glanced witheringly at Percy.

"And what're you doing down here, Weasley?" he sneered.

Percy looked outraged.

"You want to show a bit more respect to a school prefect!" he said. "I don't like your attitude!"

Draco sneered and motioned for Crabbe and Goyle to follow him. "That Peter Weasley-"

"Percy," Crabbe corrected.

"Whatever," said Malfoy. "I've noticed him sneaking around a lot lately. And I bet I know what he's up to. He thinks he's going to catch Slytherin's heir single-handed."

He gave a short, derisive laugh.

Malfoy paused by a stretch of bare, damp stone wall.

"What's the new password again?" he said.

"Pureblood." said Hermione.

"Oh, yeah - pure-blood!" said Malfoy. "Thanks Mione."

The Slytherin common room was a long, low underground room with rough stone walls and ceiling from which round, greenish lamps were hanging on chains. A fire was crackling under an elaborately carved mantelpiece ahead of them, and several Slytherins were silhouetted around it in high-backed chairs.

"Wait here," said Malfoy to Crabbe and Goyle, motioning them to a pair of empty chairs set back from the fire. "I'll go and get it my father's just sent it to me-"

Malfoy came back a minute later, holding what looked like a newspaper clipping. "That'll give you a laugh," he said.

Harry saw Ron's eyes widen in shock. He read the clipping quickly, gave a very forced laugh, and handed it to Harry.

It had been clipped out of the Daily Prophet , and it said:

INQUIRY AT THE MINISTRY OF MAGIC

By Jessie Lynch

Arthur Weasley, Head of the Misuse of Muggle Artifacts Office, was today fined fifty Galleons for bewitching a Muggle car. Along with this, he was demoted to the centaur liaison office.

Mr. Lucius Malfoy, a governor of Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, where the enchanted car crashed earlier this year, called today for Mr. Weasley's resignation. "Weasley has brought the Ministry into disrepute," Mr. Malfoy told our reporter. "He is clearly unfit to draw up our laws and his ridiculous Muggle Protection Act should be scrapped immediately."

"Honestly," scoffed Undersecretary Umbridge. "He should know better. Maybe he will learn better in the Centaur office."

Mr. Weasley was unavailable for comment, although his wife told reporters to clear off or she'd set the family ghoul on them.

"Well?" said Malfoy impatiently as Goyle handed the clipping back to him. "Don't you think it's funny?"

"Ha, ha," said Goyle bleakly.

"Arthur Weasley loves Muggles so much he should snap his wand in half and go and join them," said Malfoy scornfully. "You'd never know the Weasleys were pure-bloods, the way they behave."

Crabbe's - face was contorted with fury.

"What's up with you, Crabbe?" snapped Malfoy.

"Stomachache," Ron grunted.

"Well, tell Hermione and she'll help you. said Malfoy. "You know, I'm surprised the Daily Prophet hasn't reported all these attacks yet," he went on thoughtfully. "I suppose Dumbledore's trying to hush it all up. He'll be sacked if it doesn't stop soon. Father's always said old Dumbledore's the worst thing that's ever happened to this place. I really should tell father about the attacks."

He dropped his hands and looked at Harry and Ron.

"What's the matter with you two?"

"They're fat from all the eating." commented Hermione.

"Saint Potter, the Mudbloods friend," said Malfoy slowly. "He's another one with no proper wizard feeling, or he wouldn't go around with that jumped up Moon Mudblood. And people think he's Slytherin's heir!"

Harry and Ron waited with bated breath: Malfoy was surely seconds away from telling them it was him - but then "I wish I knew who it is," said Malfoy petulantly. "I could tell them not to attack Mione and to attack the others."

Crabbe looked even more clueless than usual. Fortunately, Malfoy didn't notice.

"You must have some idea who's behind it all." said Goyle.

"You know I haven't, Goyle, how many times do I have to tell you?" snapped Malfoy. "And Father won't tell me anything about the last time the Chamber was opened either. Of course, it was fifty years ago, so it was before his time, but he knows all about it, and he says that it was all kept quiet and it'll look suspicious if I know too much about it. But I know one thing - last time the Chamber of Secrets was opened, a Mudblood died. So I bet it's a matter of time before one of them's killed this time... I hope it's Moon," he said with relish.

Goyle said, "D'you know if the person who opened the Chamber last time was caught?" Hermione was watching them suspiciously, before she pulled something out of her bag.

"Oh, yeah... whoever it was was expelled," said Malfoy. "They're probably still in Azkaban."

"Azkaban?" said Goyle, puzzled.

"Azkaban - the wizard prison, Goyle," said Malfoy, looking at him in disbelief "Honestly, if you were any slower, you'd be going backward."

He shifted restlessly in his chair and said, "Father says to keep my head down and let the Heir of Slytherin get on with it. He says the school needs ridding of all the Mudblood filth, but not to get mixed up in it. Of course, he's got a lot on his plate at the moment. You know the Ministry of Magic raided our manor last week?"

"Yeah..." said Draco. "Luckily, they didn't find much. Father's got some very valuable Dark Arts stuff. But luckily, we've got our own secret chamber under the drawing-room floor-"

"Ho!" said Crabbe.

They both jumped to their feet.

"Medicine for the stomach." grunted Crabbe, who was starting to look weird. Hermione shot a look at Elan and he blocked the doorway.

"I have medicine right here!" she said, waving a small bottle.

"How do we know it'll work." Goyle grunted, shrinking.

"Honestly." said Hermione, rolling her eyes. "I've given you medicine so much. Don't you trust me?" she gave them a fake pouty face.

Before the two could say more, they both turned into Potter and Weasley.

"What?!" Draco shrieked, jumping up.

"Just as I thought." Hermione smirked, looking at their scared faces.

"No matter what you think, Crabbe and Goyle aren't actually stupid. It's just an act. I knew something was wrong after you asked about the Chamber."

"What should we do?" asked Chastity.

"Elan, can you go with Marcus and look for Vince and Greg. Draco and I will go with these two to Professor Snape." she had an evil grin on her face.

Slowly, they began the trek to his office.

"Drakon." said Hermione to a painting of a basilisk, and the portrait swung open.

"Yes Miss Granger?" asked Professor Snape.

"Professor," began Hermione, "We found Potter and Weasley in our common room. They used Polyjuice Potion to disguise themselves as Crabbe and Goyle. We don't know where Vince and Greg are now." she said.

"How, pray tell, did you dunderheads get the ingredients." Snape asked.

Both boys looked down. Draco snapped his fingers. "That explosion with the swelling solution! It must have been a distraction!"

"Very well." Snape said, a small evil smile gracing his lips. "That will be 100 points from each of you, along with 2 months worth of detention. Potter will serve with Lockhart, and Weasley with me. Now we are going to Dumbledore's.

As they walked along the corridor, Elan came by levitating Crabbe and Goyle.

"Professor!" he exclaimed. "Vincent and Gregory are hurt. They hit their heads on the closet and have bruises."

"That will be another 25 points from each of you for harming students."

"Here." whispered Hermione, healing them.

They marched in silence around a corner and stopped before a large and extremely ugly stone gargoyle.

"Lemon drop!" he said. This was evidently a password, because the gargoyle sprang suddenly to life and hopped aside as the wall behind him split in two. What kind of password was lemon drop? Though she hated the man, Hermione was amazed. Behind the wall was a spiral staircase that was moving smoothly upward, like an escalator. As everyone stepped onto it, Hermione heard the wall thud closed behind them. They rose upward in circles, higher and higher, until at last, slightly dizzy, Hermione saw a gleaming oak door ahead, with a brass knocker in the shape of a griffin.

They entered his office. It was a large and beautiful circular room, full of funny little noises. A number of curious silver instruments stood on spindle legged tables, whirring and emitting little puffs of smoke. The walls were covered with portraits of old headmasters and headmistresses, all of whom were snoozing gently in their frames. There was also an enormous, claw-footed desk, and, sitting on a shelf behind it, a shabby, tattered wizard's hat - the Sorting Hat. Standing on a perch in the corner was a beautiful phoenix with red and golden feathers.

"Hello Severus. For what do I owe the pleasure?" Dumbledore asked pleasantly.

"I want Potter banned from Quidditch for the rest of the year." Snape snarled.

Dumbledore slowly took off his glasses and stared. "Why?"

"Potter endangered two of my students, Vincent Crabbe and Gregory Goyle, by knocking them out and stuffing them in a broom closet. They were bruised and being covered by a mop, Crabbe was nearly suffocated. On top of that, these two are responsible for the Swelling Solution incident which hurt many of my students. They also stole ingredients from my Potions cupboard and used to to impersonate Crabbe and Goyle with Polyjuice Potion."

"Is this true?" Dumbledore asked, staring at the two boys. They fidgeted, before Potter looked up.

"Yes." he muttered.

"I don't believe a Quidditch ban is necessary, Severus."

Snape turned pallied. "They endangered the lives of two of my students." he snarled.

"But they weren't hurt. I do believe you have already taken points."

"125 from each of them and 2 months of detention." Snape snarled.

"Very well." Dumbledore said, and looking at their gaping faces, Hermione felt vindication.

Lily Moon had disappeared into the hospital wing, and no one knew what was wrong with her. The sun had now begun to shine weakly on Hogwarts again. Inside the castle, the mood had grown more hopeful. There had been no more attacks since those on Justin and Nearly Headless Nick, and Madam Pomfrey was pleased to report that the Mandrakes were becoming moody and secretive, meaning that they were fast leaving childhood.

"The moment their acne clears up, they'll be ready for repotting again," Hermione heard her telling Filch kindly one afternoon. "And after that, it won't be long until we're cutting them up and stewing them. You'll have Mrs. Norris back in no time."

Perhaps the Heir of Slytherin had lost his or her nerve, thought Hermione. It must be getting riskier and riskier to open the Chamber of Secrets, with the school so alert and suspicious. Perhaps the monster, whatever it was, was even now settling itself down to hibernate for another fifty years...

Ernie Macmillan of Hufflepuff didn't take this cheerful view. He was still convinced that Potter was the guilty one, that he had "given himself away" at the Dueling Club. Peeves wasn't helping matters; he kept popping up in the crowded corridors singing "Oh, Potter, you rotter..." now with a dance routine to match. Draco had memorized it.

Gilderoy Lockhart seemed to think he himself had made the attacks stop. Hermione overheard him telling Professor McGonagall so while the Slytherins were lining up for Transfiguration. "I don't think there'll be any more trouble, Minerva," he said, tapping his nose knowingly and winking. "I think the Chamber has been locked for good this time. The culprit must have known it was only a matter of time before I caught him. Rather sensible to stop now, before I came down hard on him."

She rolled her eyes.

"You know, what the school needs now is a morale-booster. Wash away the memories of last term! I won't say any more just now, but I think I know just the thing..."

He tapped his nose again and strode off.

Lockhart's idea of a morale-booster became clear at breakfast time on February fourteenth. Hermione hadn't had much sleep because of a late-running Quidditch practice the night before when Draco had dislocated a finger, and she hurried down to the Great Hall, slightly late. She thought, for a moment, that she'd walked through the wrong doors.

The walls were all covered with large, lurid pink flowers. Worse still, heart-shaped confetti was falling from the pale blue ceiling. Hermione went over to the Slytherin table, where Theo was sitting looking sickened, and Pansy seemed to have been overcome with giggles.

"What's going on?" Hermione asked them, sitting down and wiping confetti off her cereal.

Blaise pointed to the teachers table, apparently too disgusted to speak. Lockhart, wearing lurid pink robes to match the decorations, was waving for silence. The teachers on either side of him were looking stony-faced. From where she sat, Hermione could see a muscle going in Professor McGonagall's cheek. Snape looked as though someone had just fed him a large beaker of Skele-Gro.

"Happy Valentine's Day!" Lockhart shouted. "And may I thank the forty-six people who have so far sent me cards! Yes, I have taken the liberty of arranging this little surprise for you all - and it doesn't end here!"

Lockhart clapped his hands and through the doors to the entrance hall marched a dozen surly-looking dwarfs. Not just any dwarfs, however. Lockhart had them all wearing golden wings and carrying harps.

Hermione stifled a laugh at how absurd they looked.

"My friendly, card-carrying cupids!" beamed Lockhart. "They will be roving around the school today delivering your valentines! And the fun doesn't stop here! I'm sure my colleagues will want to enter into the spirit of the occasion! Why not ask Professor Snape to show you how to whip up a Love Potion! And while you're at it, Professor Flitwick knows more about Entrancing Enchantments than any wizard I've ever met, the sly old dog!"

Professor Flitwick buried his face in his hands. Snape was looking as though the first person to ask him for a Love Potion would be force-fed poison.

Hermione was doing her best not to burst into laughter. Her face was red at this point and she was sure she looked strange.

All day long, the dwarfs kept barging into their classes to deliver valentines, to the annoyance of the teachers, and late that afternoon as the Slytherins were walking upstairs for Charms, one of the dwarfs caused a commotion.

"Oy, you! Arry Potter!" shouted a particularly grim-looking dwarf, elbowing people out of the way to get to Harry.

Harry tried to escape. The dwarf, however, cut his way through the crowd by kicking people's shins, and reached him before he'd gone two paces.

"I've got a musical message to deliver to Arry Potter in person," he said, twanging his harp in a threatening sort of way.

Potter struggled and tried to escape.

"Stay still!" grunted the dwarf, grabbing hold of Harry's bag and pulling him back.

"Let me go!" Harry snarled, tugging.

With a loud ripping noise, his bag split in two. His books, wand, parchment, and quill spilled onto the floor and his ink bottle smashed over everything.

Harry scrambled around, trying to pick it all up before the dwarf started singing, causing something of a holdup in the corridor.

"What's going on here?" Draco drawled, surrounded by Hermione, Crabbe, Goyle, Pansy, Daphne, Theo, and Blaise.

"What's all this commotion?" said another familiar voice as Percy Weasley arrived.

Harry tried to make a run for it, but the dwarf seized him around the knees and brought him crashing to the floor. Hermione laughed out loud at the sight.

"Right," he said, sitting on Harry's ankles. "Here is your singing valentine:

His eyes are as green as a fresh pickled toad,

His hair is as dark as a blackboard,

I wish he was mine,

he's really divine,

The hero who conquered the Dark Lord

Hermione burst into laughter, barely noticing that Theo was leaning on her in his laughter so he didn't fall down.

"Off you go, off you go, the bell rang five minutes ago, off to class, now," Percy said, shooing some of the younger students away. "And you, Malfoy-"

"Look." Draco whispered, leaning down to pick up a small black diary from Potter's bag.

"Give that back," said Harry quietly.

"Wonder what Potter's written in this?" said Draco. A hush fell over the onlookers.

"Hand it over, Malfoy," said Percy sternly.

"When I've had a look," said Draco, waving the diary tauntingly at Harry.

Percy said, "As a school prefect -" but Harry had lost his temper. He pulled out his wand and shouted, "Expelliarmus!" and just as Snape had disarmed Lockhart, so Malfoy found the diary shooting out of his hand into the air. Ron, grinning broadly, caught it.

"Harry!" said Percy loudly. "No magic in the corridors. I'll have to report this, you know!"

But Harry didn't care, he was one-up on Malfoy, and that was worth five points from Gryffindor any day. Malfoy was looking furious, and as Ginny passed him to enter her classroom, he yelled spitefully after her, "I don't think Potter liked your valentine much!"

"You're not supposed to use magic!" Hermione exclaimed.

"It doesn't matter." Daphne soothed her. "They barely have 100 points thanks to the 250 point loss. Oliver Wood is furious because Professor Snape is scheduling all his detentions on the days of Quidditch Practice."

That day in her Potion lesson, Hermione was making the Strengthening Solution. Then Potter entered.

"Good." said Snape. "Potter clean out the cauldrons."

Hermione stifled a giggle. These were her dirty cauldrons, all filthy from Potion making. With a groan and a glare, he set to work.

"Miss Granger, you need to cut your flobberworms more evenly." Snape said, and with a nod, Hermione set to slowly recutting her flobberworms.

Soon it was Spring and Hermione was getting ready to choose her electives.

"Care of Magical Creatures for sure." said Draco. "The teacher, Kettleburn, is really good according to father."

"Divination." said one of the older students. "An easy O."

"Muggle Studies." joked Greg.

"WHAT!" Hermione shrieked. "That subject is outdated, biased, completely stupid, and useless! Unless you guys are going to live in the muggle world, that subject is dumb!"

"Arithmancy is really good, and so is Ancient Runes." said Elan.

"But those are the two hardest electives." said Hermione worried.

"Yes." he grimaced. "It's really hard to keep up with them both."

"Come on Hermione." Draco whined.

"Divination is stupid." she snapped, before huffing off to Potions lessons.

"Miss Granger, did you know that 3rd years are allowed three electives which can be narrowed down to two by their fourth year." said Professor Snape as Hermione added shredded boomslang skin to her potion. Wheels turning in her mind, Hermione finished the potion and raced off.

"Will you do it?" Draco asked with a bounce.

"Fine." she grumbled, and she checked COMC, Divination, and Ancient Runes off.

"Why Ancient Runes?" Pansy asked.

"I was reading," Hermione explained, before being interrupted.

"Of course you were.'' Blaise said, rolling his eyes, and with a glare, Hermione whacked him on the arm.

"Jeez woman!" he yelped.

"As I was saying, Ancient Runes are runes that are filled with magic. This means that anyone using them can do magic without setting off the Trace." she said.

"So you'll be able to do magic at home." grinned Daphne.

"Yup." she smirked.

Chapter Text

"The match has been cancelled!" roared Professor Snape, while the Slytherins stared in horror. This was the decider for the Quidditch cup against Hufflepuff.

"The Cup!" Marcus begged.

"NO." he replied.

"All students are to make their way back to the House common rooms, where their Heads of Houses will give them further information. As quickly as you can, please!"

Lowering his voice, he spoke to Draco. "Draco, you and your friends come with me."

They followed him to the hospital wing, wondering what would happen. They didn't expect the worst.

Hermione had been petrified. Petrified. Draco stared in growing horror at the frozen body and glassy eyes of Hermione Granger. Her hair was in beautiful chestnut waves and her eyes sparkled, but glassily, as though she was behind a screen.

"Hermione." he whispered in a grief choked voice. "Speak to me."

"This isn't fair." whispered Theo.

Two days later they had a house meeting, and the other students took in the sight of the first years. Draco Malfoy had red rimmed eyes, and Pansy Parkinson's eyes were puffy from crying. Theo's hair was askew, Blaise looked like he hadn't slept at all, and Daphne's hair was a mess.

"Hermione was petrified." whispered Daphne, barely able to believe it.

Not even the fact that Lily Moon had also been petrified could cheer them up.

"None of us are safe." said a seventh year, Malcolm Baddock.

That was when the school stopped suspecting the Slytherins.

"Have you seen Draco Malfoy? He would never hurt Granger?" girls would whisper.

Dear Mother and Father,

Hermione has been petrified. Is there anything you can do?

Love,
Draco

Meanwhile, Draco spent every evening at Hermione's bed, giving her flowers though she couldn't touch them.

Hagrid had been arrested, but he didn't even care. The entire group were shells. Even Snape was snappier than usual. Even Dumbledore gone didn't arouse even a bit of happiness in them. Then Madame Pomfrey banned hospital visits, and Draco got angry. He snuck in to see her, no matter how many points he lost.

Summer was creeping over the grounds around the castle; sky and lake alike turned periwinkle blue and flowers large as cabbages burst into bloom in the greenhouses. But with no Hermione nattering at her friends to study it was all wrong.
Exams were still on and they pushed themselves into work. One night at dinner, an announcement was made. Professor McGonagall said, "Professor Sprout has informed me that the Mandrakes are ready for cutting at last. Tonight, we will be able to revive those people who have been Petrified. I need hardly remind you all that one of them may well be able to tell us who, or what, attacked them. I am hopeful that this dreadful year will end with our catching the culprit."

"Hermione's coming back!" Blaise cheered, and even Draco grinned at that, the first grin anyone had seen on him in months.

"Hospital wing?" Pansy asked, and the two went down to the wing. There was Hermione, and like always she was given a vase of flowers. One from each of them. A lily from Draco, tulip from Pansy, rose from Daphne, hydrangea from Blaise, and a chrysanthemum from Theo.

"What's that?" Pansy asked, and for the first time Draco noticed a small piece of paper clutched in her first. Carefully taking it out, they read it.

"Of the many fearsome beasts and monsters that roam our land, there is none more curious or more deadly than the Basilisk, known also as the King of Serpents. This snake, which may reach gigantic size and live many hundreds of years, is born from a chicken's egg, hatched beneath a toad. Its methods of killing are most wondrous, for aside from its deadly and venomous fangs, the Basilisk has a murderous stare, and all who are fixed with the beam of its eye shall suffer instant death. Spiders flee before the Basilisk, for it is their mortal enemy, and the Basilisk flees only from the crowing of the rooster, which is fatal to it."

And beneath this, a single word had been written, in a hand Draco recognized as Hermione's. Pipes .

"That's it!" said Draco. "The things a basilisk."

"But basilisk stares kill." said Pansy.

"The power must have been reduced. They only saw the reflection. That's why Hermione was holding a mirror!" Draco said.

Neither noticed Harry Potter under an Invisibility cloak, sneaking away.

Hermione entered the Great Hall on the last week. She had been petrified for nearly a month in a half. It had been horrible. Each moment was plagued with nightmares.

Hermione was walking with her parents.

"Look mama!" she exclaims, levitating her book.

Her parents stare in horror. She looks at their faces and realizes that they don't like it. They don't understand the caress of magic, the smooth feel, the accomplishment.

Hermione sneaks down to see her parents. They are whispering about her. "Freaky… Unnatural… Neighbors… Weird… Witch…"

Little Hermione goes crying to bed.

"Mudblood." Ron Weasley sneers in Flourish and Blotts.

"You'll never belong." scoffs Harry Potter.

Hermione shook herself out of those thoughts.

"Draco." whispered Tracy Davis, "It's Granger."

His head immediately shot around so fast it gave him a crick, but there she was. Looking incredibly nervous, she was smiling, her hair curled around one shoulder.

"Hermione!" he yelled, not caring about composure, running to hug her. The rest of his friends did the same. Good Merlin, she was alive!

Muffling a sob, Hermione buried her head in their shoulders.

"Let the girl breathe!" Pansy scolded, pulling Hermione into a seat.

"Mother hen." Theo muttered.

"Good to see you back." said Elan.

"I'm glad you're back." said Marcus.

"Now can I tell her the bad news?" asked Blaise.

"Really?"Daphne hissed. "Now?"

"Well she has to know." he said, and with a sigh, Daphne let him continue.

"Lockhart was fired, because his memory was erased by a backfired obliviate. Exams were cancelled, and Gryffindor won the House Cup."

"How is that possible?" Hermione demanded.

"Potter and Weasley found out about the basilisk, and killed it. Dumbledore awarded them 200 points each." Theo said with a disgusted look on his face.

"Every year." Hermione muttered. "Every bloody year."

The rest of the final term passed in a haze of blazing sunshine. Hogwarts was back to normal with only a few, small differences - Defense Against the Dark Arts classes were canceled and Lucius Malfoy had been sacked as a school governor.

"For no reason!" complained Draco. "Dumbledore made up some cock- and- bull story about father threatening the governor's even though I know he didn't, and worst of all, Arthur Weasley got the post."

Hermione made a disgusted face. "Idiots." she agreed. "One day we'll get revenge."

Too soon, it was time for the journey home on the Hogwarts Express. Draco, Blaise, Theo, Hermione, Pansy, Daphne, Elan, Marcus, Flora and Hestia Carrow got a compartment to themselves. They made the most of the last few hours in which they were allowed to do magic before the holidays. They played Exploding Snap, set off the very last of Flora and Hestia's Filibuster fireworks, and practiced disarming each other by magic. Hermione was getting very good at it.

Too soon it was time to go home.

"Bye guys." Hermione said with a forlorn smile as she trudged off to another summer of no magic.

Chapter Text

Hermione was working on homework.(A History of Magic by Bathilda Bagshot) propped open against the pillow. Hermione moved the tip of her eagle-feather quill down the page, frowning as she looked for something that would help her write her essay, 'Witch Burning in the Fourteenth Century Was Completely Pointless - discuss.'

Hermione read:

Non-magic people (more commonly known as Muggles) were particularly afraid of magic in medieval times, but not very good at recognizing it. On the rare occasion that they did catch a real witch or wizard, burning had no effect whatsoever. The witch or wizard would perform a basic Flame-Freezing Charm and then pretend to shriek with pain while enjoying a gentle, tickling sensation. Indeed, Wendelin the Weird enjoyed being burned so much that she allowed herself to be caught no less than forty-seven times in various disguises.

Hmm. she thought. She would have to try that spell. Hermione jotted a note down in her notebook. Over the summer she had bought many notebooks for her projects. One for potion recipes, one for spells, and one as an extra.

"Hi Artemis." she cooed, petting the golden own and taking the letters from her.

"Hermione!" Draco yelled, jumping on her bed.

"Ooof!" she screamed, whacking him with a pillow. "What?"

"Look." he said, and the two started to read.

BLACK STILL AT LARGE

By Rita Skeeter

Sirius Black, possibly the most infamous prisoner ever to be held in Azkaban fortress, is still eluding capture, the Ministry of Magic confirmed today.

"We are doing all we can to recapture Black," said the Minister of Magic, Cornelius Fudge, this morning, "and we beg the magical community to remain calm."

Fudge has been criticized by some members of the International Federation of Warlocks for informing the Muggle Prime Minister of the crisis.

"Well, really, I had to, don't you know," said an irritable Fudge. "Black is mad. He's a danger to anyone who crosses him, magic or Muggle. I have the Prime Minister's assurance that he will not breathe a word of Black's true identity to anyone. And let's face it - who'd believe him if he did?"

While Muggles have been told that Black is carrying a gun (a kind of metal wand that Muggles use to kill each other), the magical community lives in fear of a massacre like that of twelve years ago, when Black murdered thirteen people with a single curse.

"Bloody hell." Hermione said, taking a deep breath.

That night at dinner Mr Malfoy made an announcement. "Tomorrow we go to Diagon Alley." he said.

The next day Hermione got up. She pulled on a green skirt and a light grey shirt. Pulling her hair into a ponytail , she went down. As they strolled Diagon Alley, Draco was immediately attracted to the broom window, and dragged Hermione there. "Look!" he gushed, and Hermione could hear the reverence in his voice. "A Firebolt!"

"And it's millions of galleons. No way are you buying it." Hermione lectured sternly, dragging him back. "Boys and their brooms." she sighed in exasperation.

"Your friend is right." said Mr Malfoy with an amused tone.

"Come on!" she said. "I want to get some owl treats for Artemis!"

"I want to get some for Royal too." said Draco. Royal was his owl. Soon they were in Magical Menagerie. There wasn't much room inside. Every inch of wall was hidden by cages. It was smelly and very noisy because the occupants of these cages were all squeaking, squawking, jabbering, or hissing. The witch behind the counter was already advising a wizard on the care of double-ended newts, so Draco and Hermione waited, examining the cages.

A pair of enormous purple toads sat gulping wetly and feasting on dead blowflies. A gigantic tortoise with a jewel-encrusted shell was glittering near the window. Poisonous orange snails were oozing slowly up the side of their glass tank, and a fat white rabbit kept changing into a silk top hat and back again with a loud popping noise. Then there were cats of every color, a noisy cage of ravens, a basket of funny custard-colored furballs that were humming loudly, and on the counter, a vast cage of sleek black rats that were playing some sort of skipping game using their long, bald tails.

Soon she finished and it was their turn. "I'm looking for basic owl treats." said Draco, and she handed him a bag of owl treats.

"Royal will love these." he boasted.

"You look like a cat lover." said the witch. "Take him. For free."

It was the ugliest cat Hermione had ever seen. The cat's ginger fur was thick and fluffy, but it was definitely a bit bowlegged and its face looked grumpy and oddly squashed, as though it had run headlong into a brick wall. Hermione looked into it's eyes and saw intelligence though.

"Why for free?" Hermione questioned.

"Crookshanks is a monster!" she said with wide eyes. "You're the first person he hasn't scratched!"

"Crookshanks isn't a monster." she scowled, before leaving the shop.

-o-o-o-o-o-o-

"That is the ugliest creature I have ever seen." muttered Narcissa Malfoy, watching as the brunette approached with a squashed ginger cat.

"She likes it." said her husband. "Let her have it." He approached them. "Shall we get our books?" he asked.

"Lets." said Draco. "We need two new books, three for Hermione."

"To the bookshop." said Mr Malfoy, and Hermione's eyes lit up again. Oh no. An hour later, they had all their books and Hermione had two more bags of books for her reading.

"You already live in the library!" Draco had exclaimed in disbelief.

"I don't live there." Hermione sniffed.

"Children, stop arguing." interrupted Mrs. Malfoy.

Soon it was time to go to Hogwarts, and Hermione ran through the barrier again. There was the bright red train, smoke coming from it like usual.

"Come on!" said Draco. "Let's find a compartment!"

"Say Goodbye to your parents!" Hermione lectured.

"Bye mum! By dad!" he said, running off with Hermione.

"Do you have a feeling that those two will be like that forever?" Narcissa asked.

"Yes they will." said Lucius. "Always bickering."

Hermione boarded the train, and she found a compartment. It was their usual, and she sat down. Artemis has chosen to fly to Hogwarts.

"Good!" said Pansy cheerfully entering. "You found a compartment. Look what I've brought." she said, showing Hermione a pile of magazines. "Fashion magazines!"

Hermione started looking through them, and noted with interest the dress she had been given for the summer solstice ball was in there. The dress was a basic scarlet red with a black belt, ending above her knees. Her hair had been curled and pulled to the side, and she was put into peach pumps with golden earrings.

"These are nice dresses." she noted.

"I know." Pansy replied smugly.

"What are you going on about?" Blaise asked, entering with Theo. Draco, Daphne, Crabbe, and Goyle entered a little later.

"Fashion." said Pansy. "Not that you would know anything about it."

"Girls." said Theo in disgust, rolling his eyes.

"Girls aren't all that bad." Blaise soothed. "They can be quite nice." he winked.

"Just cause you grew up and are now a pervert doesn't mean we are." said Daphne in a thoroughly unimpressed voice.

"I'm bored." Draco whined. "Mione, come with me to annoy Potter and Weasley."

"No." Hermione snapped, immersed in petting her cat. "Go by yourself." He had annoyed her when he had started dating Pansy this summer.

"Fine." he grumbled, and he got up and left.

This was when her friends noticed her cat.

"What the hell is that?" Blaise asked in horror.

"This is Crookshanks. He's half kneazle, and very smart. Aren't you Crooks?" she cooed.

"That," said Theo pointing, "Is a monster who ran into a brick wall and mated with a walrus."

Hermione glared at him before punching him.

"Abuse!" he yelped.

"Deal with it." Hermione replied.

"Guys, we have a new defense teacher." said Draco.

"Well no duh." said Blaise.

"He's in Potter and Weasley's compartment, and looks poor."

"We must be nearly there," said Theo, leaning forward to look past Professor Lupin at the now completely black window.

The words had hardly left him when the train started to slow down.

"Great," said Blaise, getting up and walking carefully past Crookshanks, who was glaring at him, to try and see outside. "I'm starving. I want to get to the feast..."

"We can't be there yet," said Hermione, checking her watch.

"So why're we stopping?"

The train was getting slower and slower. As the noise of the pistons fell away, the wind and rain sounded louder than ever against the windows.

Draco, who was nearest the door, got up to look into the corridor. All along the carriage, heads were sticking curiously out of their compartments.

The train came to a stop with a jolt, and distant thuds and bangs told them that luggage had fallen out of the racks. Then, without warning, all the lamps went out and they were plunged into total darkness.

"What's going on?" said Theo's voice.

"Ouch!" gasped Hermione. "Draco, that was my foot!"

"D'you think we've broken down?"

"Dunno..."

There was a squeaking sound, and Hermione saw the dim black outline of Pansy, wiping a patch clean on the window and peering out.

"There's something moving out there," she said. "I think people are coming aboard..."

It was getting cold, really cold. Hermione had started shivering, and just remembered to apply warming charms. Clutching Crookshanks, she waited. After what seemed like eternity, they started moving.

"What was that about?" Crabbe asked.

"I don't know." said Draco with sarcasm in his voice. " I was here with YOU!"

"Idiot." Pansy said with scorn in her voice. After a while, Draco went out, and when he came back in he looked very excited.

"Guess what?" he said excitedly.

"Chicken Butt." chorused Hermione and Blaise at the same time.

"No, the cold we felt was dementors. They're looking for Sirius Black. Potter fainted." The glee was evident in his voice.

"You boys and your obsession with Potter." Hermione said rolling her eyes. "I swear you have a crush on him."

Draco's cheeks pinked. "I don't!" he snapped.

"Totally." Hermione drawled, pulling out the word.

"Stop flirting." Blaise teased, and Hermione punched him.

"Again with the violence woman!" Blaise yelped.

"Just shut up." Theo said. "Robes on, we're at Hogwarts."

They boarded the carriages, but not before Draco could yell at Potter about fainting.

Ugh." said Hermione, very unimpressed. At the sorting the Weasley Twins booed one of the new Slytherins.

"Don't worry." whispered Hermione. "They're just a bunch of wankers."

The girl gave her a watery smile. Hermione went to bed that day with revenge in her mind, on everyone who wronged her and her friends. When she woke up she saw Pansy applying makeup.

"What are you doing?" she asked.

Pansy looked at her before sighing. "I forgot you don't know. Third year is when Slytherins girls are recognized as ladies, so we start wearing makeup. Each girl has a style."

"I didn't buy makeup." said Hermione.

"Don't worry about it."s aid Daphne, waving her arm. "You can borrow ours until you buy some."

Pansy chose black eyeshadow and black mascara. She also chose red lipstick for her signature style. Daphne had decided on royal blue with a little green eyeshadow, and dark pink lip gloss. Hermione decided for more subtle; she wanted nothing like Tracy Davis's glitter pink eyeshadow. In the end, she chose a golden that blended in with her skin tone, and light pink lipgloss. All girls wore mascara.

"Ladies." said Theo gallantly as they came down.

"You look really pretty." said Draco, doing his best to seem suave as he took Pansy's hand.

"This is why I ignored cooties long ago." said Blaise wisely, and Hermione giggled.

"Classes." said Professor Snape, walking by. "Nothing has changed Miss Granger, 6th year Potions on Thursday." He walked away.

"Wow." said Daphne. "You're already on 6th year?"

"Uh huh." said Hermione, a little smug. "I've written all the changed recipes down and want to take them to the editors."

"Our dear Hermione." said Draco, wiping a mock tear from his cheek. "Already changing the world."

"Ugh." said Hermione, rolling her eyes. "What class do we have first?"

"Divination." said Pansy, so they all trooped up to Elan.

"Do you know where Divination is?" Pansy asked.

"Yeah." he grinned. "North Tower, follow Cadogan for instructions."

So they all trooped up to the North Tower, and found the room. A ladder opened up, and they climbed in.

"Why do we have the misfortune of taking this class with Gryffindors?" Daphne muttered.

"Because Dumbledore hates us." replied Hermione, taking a seat on a pouf. The classroom was the strangest thing she had ever seen. In fact, it didn't look like a classroom at all, more like a cross between someone's attic and an old-fashioned tea shop. At least twenty small, circular tables were crammed inside it, all surrounded by chintz armchairs and fat little poufs. Everything was lit with a dim, crimson light; the curtains at the windows were all closed, and the many lamps were draped with dark red scarves. It was stiflingly warm, and the fire that was burning under the crowded mantelpiece was giving off a heavy, sickly sort of perfume as it heated a large copper kettle. The shelves running around the circular walls were crammed with dusty-looking feathers, stubs of candles, many packs of tattered playing cards, countless silvery crystal balls, and a huge array of teacups.

"Hey." whispered Draco. "Why isn't Moon with Potter and Weasley?"

A voice came suddenly out of the shadows, a soft, misty sort of voice.

"Moon decided not to hang out with them cause they get her in trouble." whispered Blaise, and Hermione grinned. At least she knew losers when she saw them.

"Welcome," it said. "How nice to see you in the physical world at last."

Hermione's immediate impression was of a large, glittering insect. Professor Trelawney moved into the firelight, and they saw that she was very thin; her large glasses magnified her eyes to several times their natural size, and she was draped in a gauzy spangled shawl. Innumerable chains and beads hung around her spindly neck, and her arms and hands were encrusted with bangles and rings.

"She looks like a poor nut." muttered Draco.

"Welcome to Divination," said Professor Trelawney, who had seated herself in a winged armchair in front of the fire. "My name is Professor Trelawney. You may not have seen me before. I find that descending too often into the hustle and bustle of the main school clouds my Inner Eye."

Nobody said anything to this extraordinary pronouncement. Professor Trelawney delicately rearranged her shawl and continued, "So you have chosen to study Divination, the most difficult of all magical arts. I must warn you at the outset that if you do not have the Sight, there is very little I will be able to teach you...Books can take you only so far in this field..."

"Many witches and wizards, talented though they are in the area of loud bangs and smells and sudden disappearances, are yet unable to penetrate the veiled mysteries of the future," Professor Trelawney went on, her enormous, gleaming eyes moving from face to nervous face. "It is a Gift granted to few.

"In the second term," Professor Trelawney went on, "we shall progress to the crystal ball - if we have finished with fire omens, that is. Unfortunately, classes will be disrupted in February by a nasty bout of flu. I myself will lose my voice. And around Easter, one of our number will leave us for ever."

A very tense silence followed this pronouncement, but Professor Trelawney seemed unaware of it.

"This class seems like bogus." Hermione muttered.

"Easy O." smirked Blaise, lounging in his pouf. "Easy O."

"Now, I want you all to divide into pairs. Collect a teacup from the shelf, come to me, and I will fill it. Then sit down and drink, drink until only the dregs remain. Swill these around the cup three times with the left hand, then turn the cup upside down on its saucer, wait for the last of the tea to drain away, then give your cup to your partner to read. You will interpret the patterns using pages five and six of Unfogging the Future. I shall move among you, helping and instructing.

"So what do you see Hermione?" asked Blaise.

"I see a bunch of tea leaves." Hermione snapped waspishly, and Blaise stared.

"Woah. Such a temper. What's got your wand in a knot?"

"This class is stupid." Hermione grouched.

"You did it for Draco." Blaise said plainly.

"Don't we always?" she sighed, resting her head on Blaise's lap and pulling out a book to read.

Later at lunch Pansy came to them with gossip. "Didn't you hear?" she tittered. "Potter saw the Grim in his cup."

"That's the best news I've heard all year. Maybe he'll drop dead." said Hermione, grinning a little.

"Care of Magical Creatures is next." said Hermione.

"Can you believe Dumbledore made that oaf a teacher?" Draco asked in disgust. "I expected a proper teacher like Kettleburn."

"Well it'll be nice to get out of the castle." said Daphne. She was right. Yesterday's rain had cleared; the sky was a clear, pale gray, and the grass was springy and damp underfoot as they set off for their first ever Care of Magical Creatures class.

Hagrid was waiting for his class at the door of his hut. He stood in his moleskin overcoat, with Fang the boarhound at his heels, looking impatient to start.

"C'mon, now, get a move on!" he called as the class approached. "Got a real treat for yeh today! Great lesson comin' up! Everyone here? Right, follow me!"

Soon they stopped at a paddock near the outskirts of the forest.

"Everyone gather 'round the fence here!" he called. "That's it - make sure yeh can see - now, firs' thing yeh'll want ter do is open yer books -"

"How?" said Draco Malfoy.

"Eh?" said Hagrid.

"How do we open our books?" Hermione repeated. She took out her copy of The Monster Book of Monsters, which he had bound shut with a length of rope. Other people took theirs out too; some had belted their book shut; others had crammed them inside tight bags or clamped them together with binder clips.

"Hasn' - hasn' anyone bin able ter open their books?" said Hagrid, looking crestfallen.

The class all shook their heads.

"Yeh've got ter stroke 'em," said Hagrid, as though this was the most obvious thing in the world. "Look -"

He took Hermione's copy and ripped off the Spellotape that bound it. The book tried to bite, but Hagrid ran a giant forefinger down its spine, and the book shivered, and then fell open and lay quiet in his hand.

"Oh, how silly we've all been!" Draco sneered. "We should have stroked them! Why didn't we guess!"

"I - I thought they were funny," Hagrid said uncertainly.

"Oh, tremendously funny!" said Hermione. "Really witty, giving us books that try and rip our hands off!"

"This is so stupid!" agreed Pansy.

"Shut up, Malfoy," said Potter quietly, and they threw him mocking gazes before shutting up.

"Righ' then," said Hagrid, who seemed to have lost his thread, "so - so yeh've got yer books an'...an'...now yeh need the Magical Creatures. Yeah. So I'll go an' get 'em. Hang on..."

He strode away from them into the forest and out of sight.

"Gods this place has gone to the dogs." said Draco loudly. "I wanted a proper teacher like Kettleburn, not some half giant filth."

"He's incompetent." Hermione agreed.

"Oooooooh!" squealed Lavender Brown, pointing toward the opposite side of the paddock.

Trotting toward them were a dozen of the most bizarre creatures Herminoe had ever seen. They had the bodies, hind legs, and tails of horses, but the front legs, wings, and heads of what seemed to be giant eagles, with cruel, steel-colored beaks and large, brilliantly, orange eyes. The talons on their front legs were half a foot long and deadly looking. Each of the beasts had a thick leather collar around its neck, which was attached to a long chain, and the ends of all of these were held in the vast hands of Hagrid, who came jogging into the paddock behind the creatures.

"Hippogriffs." muttered Hermione.

"Hippogriffs!" Hagrid roared happily, waving a hand at them. "Beau'iful, aren' they?"

Once you got over the first shock of seeing something that was half horse, half bird, you started to appreciate the Hippogriffs' gleaming coats, changing smoothly from feather to hair, each of them a different color: stormy gray, bronze, pinkish roan, gleaming chestnut, and inky black.

"They're ugly." said Draco, and Hermione glared.

"Try to appreciate nature a little." she snapped quietly.

"So," said Hagrid, rubbing his hands together and beaming around, "if yeh wan' ter come a bit nearer..."

No one wanted to go up, but Hermione decided to try it. Slowly, she walked up, Potter and Weasley behind her for some reason.

"Now, firs' thing yeh gotta know abou' Hippogriffs is, they're proud," said Hagrid. "Easily offended, Hippogriffs are. Don't never insult one, 'cause it might be the last thing yeh do."

That ruled out Draco approaching one. Hermione snorted. Draco would never bow to a hippogriff.

"Yeh always wait fer the Hippogriff ter make the firs' move," Hagrid continued. "It's polite, see? Yeh walk toward him, and yeh bow, an' yeh wait. If he bows back, yeh're allowed ter touch him. If he doesn' bow, then get away from him sharpish, 'cause those talons hurt."

"Right - who wants ter go first?"

"I'll do it." said Potter, approaching the fence. Even Hermione wasn't going to do that.

"Good man, Harry!" roared Hagrid. "Right then - let's see how yeh get on with Buckbeak."

He untied one of the chains, pulled the gray Hippogriff away from its fellows, and slipped off its leather collar.

"I hope he dies." said Draco maliciously, and Hermione smirked. "Play nice Draco."

They noticed the hippogriff staring haughtily and Potter, and the boy started to back away from his bow, before he sank down in his scaly knees in a bow.

"Well done, Harry!" said Hagrid, ecstatic. "Right - yeh can touch him! Pat his beak, go on!"

"I want to do that." murmured Hermione longingly.

"Why?" asked Daphne, quirking her eyebrow.

"Do you know what it's like to tame a hippogriff? He would respect me forever." she replied.

"Righ' then, Harry," said Hagrid. "I reckon he migh' let yeh ride him!"

Potter flew up on the hippogriff, clutching tightly. Hermione watched as he flew out of sight before returning.

"Good work, Harry!" roared Hagrid, as Potter descended. "Okay, who else wants a go?"

Emboldened by Potter's success, the rest of the class climbed cautiously into the paddock. Hagrid untied the Hippogriffs one by one, and soon people were bowing nervously, all over the paddock.

Hermione and her friends had taken over Buckbeak. He had easily bowed to Hermione, who had stared at him almost glaring, before letting her pet him.

"Come on Draco!" she invited. "This isn't too hard."

Soon all of her friends were petting Buckbeak. Hermione and Daphne had started to groom him, and Buckbeak was preening under all the love.

"This is very easy," Malfoy drawled, loud enough for Potter to, hear him. "I knew it must have been, if Potter could do it...I bet you're not dangerous at all, are you?" he said to the Hippogriff. "Are you, you great ugly brute?"

It happened in a flash of steely talons; Malfoy let out a high pitched scream and next moment, Hagrid was wrestling Buckbeak back into his collar as he strained to get at Malfoy, who lay curled in the grass, blood blossoming over his robes.

"I'm dying!" Malfoy yelled as the class panicked. "I'm dying, look at me! It's killed me!"

"Yer not dyin'!" said Hagrid, who had gone very white. "Someone help me - gotta get him outta here -"

Hermione could only stare before running out following them, and thinking of how she would KILL Draco for this when he was healed. Hermione went up to see Draco, and saw that the cut was already healed.

"It was a superficial cut." he told them, a grin on his face. "It didn't even touch the muscle."

Hermione was silent throughout all this.

"Mione?" he asked in concern. "Are you alright?"

"No Draco, I'm not alright!" she exploded. "You deliberately goaded Buckbeak into doing something like that! Hippogriffs have been killed for less than that!"

Draco was gaping at her as she stormed out, completely angry at him. That night when he came back to the common room he found Hermione reading on the couch, wrapped in a cozy green blanket which had been his birthday present to her.

"Mione?" he said in a quiet voice, coming to sit next to her.

She sighed, and put the book down. "Yes Draco?"

"I'm sorry. I shouldn't have goaded Buckbeak like that. I've already convinced Pansy not to tell father so that Buckbeak doesn't get in trouble."

"Thank you Draco." she smiled, and he saw her brown eyes shine before she pulled the blanket around them, pulling him close. "It means a lot to me."

"I know." he whispered, barely noticing as she drifted off. "That's why I did it."

Chapter Text

Thursday's Potions class was the shrinking solution. Hermione rolled her eyes as she concocted the laughably easy potion, she had finished this at the beginning of last year. She had spent the last quarter of an hour chopping her daisy roots perfectly with Theo, because as Professor Snape repeated- ingredient preparation is key.

She started on putting the daisy roots in while stirring, and Theo skinned the shrivelfig. He started putting that in, while she sliced the caterpillars. He put those in, and after a few stirs she added the required dash of leech juice, before putting it to simmer.

A few cauldrons away, Longbottom was in trouble. Longbottom regularly went to pieces in Potions lessons; it was his worst subject, and his great fear of Professor Snape made things ten times worse. His potion, which was supposed to be a bright, acid green, had turned -

"Orange, Longbottom," said Snape, ladling some up and allowing to splash back into the cauldron, so that everyone could see.

Hermione stifled a giggle at the obvious mistake. He obviously added two cat spleens, not one.

"Orange. Tell me, boy, does anything penetrate that thick skull of yours? Didn't you hear me say, quite clearly, that only one cat spleen was needed? Didn't I state plainly that a dash of leech juice would suffice? What do I have to do to make you understand, Longbottom?"

Longbottom was pink and trembling. He looked as though he was on the verge of tears.

"Please, sir," said Lily Moon, who was now best friends with Lavender Brown and Parvati Patil, "please, I could help Neville put it right -"

"I don't remember asking you to show off, Miss Moon," said Snape coldly, and Moon went as pink as Neville. "Longbottom, at the end of this lesson we will feed a few drops of this potion to your toad and see what happens. Perhaps that will encourage you to do it properly."

Snape moved away, leaving Neville breathless with fear. Hermione laughed under her breath as she pulled the potion off simmer to add some valerian water. Idiots. As if Professor Snape would try to kill the toad. He already knew that Moon would help Longbottom.

Snape called, "You should have finished adding your ingredients by now; this potion needs to stew before it can be drunk, so clear away while it simmers and then we'll test Longbottom's..."

As she went to wash her hands Hermione laughed at Longbottom, and Theo bottled their Potion, securing one for her like always.

The end of the lesson in sight, Snape strode over to Neville, who was cowering by his cauldron.

"Everyone gather 'round," said Snape, his black eyes glittering, "and watch what happens to Longbottom's toad. If he has managed to produce a Shrinking Solution, it will shrink to a tadpole. If, as I don't doubt, he has done it wrong, his toad is likely to be poisoned."

The Gryffindors watched fearfully. The Slytherins looked excited. Snape picked up Trevor the toad in his left hand and dipped a small spoon into Neville's potion, which was now green. He trickled a few drops down Trevor's throat.

There was a moment of hushed silence, in which Trevor gulped; then there was a small pop, and Trevor the tadpole was wriggling in Snape's palm.

The Gryffindors burst into applause. Snape, looking sour, pulled a small bottle from the pocket of his robe, poured a few drops on top of Trevor, and he reappeared suddenly, fully grown.

"Five points from Gryffindor," said Snape, which wiped the smiles from every face. "I told you not to help him, Miss Moon. Class dismissed."

"That was fun." Draco grinned.

"It's always fun watching Snape torture the Gryffindorks." said Blaise lightly.

"I'm off to Ancient Runes." Hermione told them, walking off alone.

Ancient Runes was in a classroom near the dungeons, but above them. The room was painted sky blue with golden runes inscribed all over the walls. Hermione took her seat next to some Ravenclaw. Soon the class started.

"Hello class. I am Professor Babbling, and this is Ancient Runes." said a tall and sprightly woman, with curly black hair and a smile. "We will start today by having a small pop quiz on the book, and hopefully we can move on. By the end of the year, we want everyone to be able to make basic magic runes on any surface, though the most magically inclined is marble. Let's start."

Overall, Hermione had a good impression of the class.

"How was it?" Pansy asked at lunch as they ate.

"Wonderful." she grinned. "We make a bag of runes at the end of the year, so now I can take magic home."

"You'll be coming to Malfoy Manor right after school." said Draco firmly.

"Come on." said Goyle. "We have Defense."

Professor Lupin wasn't there when they arrived at his first Defense Against the Dark Arts lesson. They all sat down, took out their books, quills, and parchment, and were talking when he finally entered the room. Lupin smiled vaguely and placed his tatty old briefcase on the teacher's desk.

"Good afternoon," he said. "Would you please put all your books back in your bags. Today's will be a practical lesson. You will need only your wands."

Hermione exchanged an excited look with her friends. Maybe this teacher wouldn't be biased against Slytherins like all the others.

A few curious looks were exchanged as the class put away their books. They had never had a practical Defense Against the Dark Arts class before, unless you counted the memorable class last year when their old teacher had brought a cageful of pixies to class and set them loose.

"Right then," said Professor Lupin, when everyone was ready. "If you'd follow me."

They walked until they reached the Teacher's Lounge. It was empty. It was full of old mismatched chairs and a wardrobe in a corner.

"Now, then," said Professor Lupin, beckoning the class toward the end of the room, where there was nothing but an old wardrobe where the teachers kept their spare robes. As Professor Lupin went to stand next to it, the wardrobe gave a sudden wobble, banging off the wall.

"Nothing to worry about," said Professor Lupin calmly because a few people had jumped backward in alarm. "There's a Boggart in there."

Most people seemed to feel that this was something to worry about. Hermione stared at him. They would be facing their worst fears. In front of the entire class. Just… Wow. Human stupidity.

"Boggarts like dark, enclosed spaces," said Professor Lupin. "Wardrobes, the gap beneath beds, the cupboards under sinks - I've even met one that had lodged itself in a grandfather clock. This one moved in yesterday afternoon, and I asked the headmaster if the staff would leave it to give my third years some practice."

"So, the first question we must ask ourselves is, what is a Boggart?"

Hermione put up her hand.

"It's a shape-shifter," she said. "It can take the shape of whatever it thinks will frighten us most."

"Couldn't have put it better myself," said Professor Lupin, and Hermione glowed. "So the Boggart sitting in the darkness within has not yet assumed a form. He does not yet know what will frighten the person on the other side of the door. Nobody knows what a Boggart looks like when he is alone, but when I let him out, he will immediately become whatever each of us most fears.

"This means," said Professor Lupin, choosing to ignore Goyle's small sputter of terror, "that we have a huge advantage over the Boggart before we begin. Have you spotted it yet Mr. Malfoy?"

"Er - because there are so many of us, it won't know what shape it should be?"

"Precisely," said Professor Lupin, and Hermione put her hand down, looking a little disappointed. "It's always best to have company when you're dealing with a Boggart. He becomes confused. Which should he become, a headless corpse or a flesh-eating slug? I once saw a Boggart make that very mistake - tried to frighten two people at once and turned himself into half a slug. Not remotely frightening.

'The charm that repels a Boggart is simple, yet it requires force of mind. You see, the thing that really finishes a Boggart is laughter. What you need to do is force it to assume a shape that you find amusing.

"We will practice the charm without wands first. After me, please...riddikulus!"

"Riddikulus!" said the class together.

"Good," said Professor Lupin. "Very good. But that was the easy part, I'm afraid. You see, the word alone is not enough. Everyone line up. I will open the wardrobe, and you will all face your fears. Everyone here is a Slytherin, so I hope none of you will spill your classmates secrets as some form of petty schoolyard revenge."

Hermione pushed into line, between Pansy and Daphne. "Go!" said Professor Lupin, and he started to play some classy jazz music. Millicent Bulstrode went first. With a pop, a banshee appeared in front of her. She had floor length black hair and a skeletal, green tinged face.

"Riddikulus!"shouted Milli, and she started clawing at her throat, unable to speak.

Tracy Davis was scared of small spaces, Crabbe was afraid of spiders, and funnily enough, Goyle was afraid of the library. Hermione snorted. That explained why he never studied. Then came Pansy. She was scared of the dark. Hermione was next. She opened her mouth and got ready to shout, but the scene made her stand still.

It was some parallel universe, where Hermione was a Gryffindor. Draco was sneering at her, and she had never seen such hate on his face. "Mudblood." he sneered, and Hermione glared. That would never happen!

"Riddikulus!" she shouted, and it turned into Draco wearing an I LOVE WEASLEY shirt, with red and gold striped hair. The class burst into laughter, and Hermione laughed too, though it was tinged with a bit of hysteria. Daphne was scared of bad hair, and Theo was scared of his father. However, his father looked cruel in the boggart, not a kind face like he usually had. Blaise's was the best. He was scared of being ugly. Draco's was the worst. He was scared of hippogriffs. His boggart was Buckbeak, but a violent version attacking him.

"Being ugly? Really?" Theo was laughing at the end of class.

"It's not funny." snapped Blaise. "Can you imagine me ugly?"

"I can. You are." replied Theo dryly, and with a bark, Blaise pulled out his wand to hex Theo.

"Draco, are you alright?" Pansy was simpering.

"I'm fine." he replied roughly. "It's just a hippogriff." But Hermione knew that he was scared. Later at dinner they found out that in the same Gryffindor lesson, the Gryffindors recieved points for each boggart, and for the questions answered correctly.

"We didn't receive any points!" Hermione ranted.

"We're Slytherins." replied Pansy with a bitter smile, and Hermione sighed. Like always.

In no time at all, Defense Against the Dark Arts had become most people's favorite class. Though Hermione still disliked Lupin for being biased against Slytherins, he was a good teacher. His next few lessons were just as interesting as the first. After Boggarts, they studied Red Caps, nasty little goblin-like creatures that lurked wherever there had been bloodshed: in the dungeons of castles and the potholes of deserted battlefields, waiting to bludgeon those who had gotten lost. From Red Caps they moved on to Kappas, creepy. water-dwellers that looked like scaly monkeys, with webbed hands itching to strangle unwitting waders in their ponds.

Quidditch had stayed the same, and Hermione continued to heal bruises after injury. After a particularly horrible practice where Pucey flew so fast that his broom actually caught fire, Hermione started making burn salve. It turned out that the Weasley Twins took the anti flame charm off his broom. As retaliation, the Carrow Twins hexed them and hung them off the Astronomy Tower. It was Marcus's last year before he left, and then Pucey would become captain.

Nobody really liked Care of Magical Creatures, which, after the action-packed first class, had become extremely dull. Hagrid seemed to have lost his confidence. They were now spending lesson after lesson learning how to look after flobberworms, which had to be some of the most boring creatures in existence.

"Why did we take this class again?" Draco groaned, not even flinching as Goyle had a flobberworm bite him.

"You tell me." Theo scoffed.

It was going to be Halloween in a little, and a Hogsmeade weekend was scheduled on that day.

"Does everyone have the slip?" Pansy asked.

"Got my parents to sign in." said Hermione with a grin.

"Hermione, it's your bloody cat again." Draco said with a disgruntled look.

"Oh look!" Hermione cooed, seeing her fat ginger cat holding a thin and balding yellow rat in his mouth.

"A rat!" said Theo. "The new House pet." he struck a dramatic pose.

"Mr Ugly." said Pansy with a look of distaste.

And so Mr Ugly the rat became a house pet, and they all took turns feeding him. Later in Divination, Pansy pulled them to the side.

"Remember how the bat was mooning about something bad on the 16th of October?" she hissed, referring to Trelawney. "Well, Lavender Brown's bunny died today."

"So there might be something to her ramblings." concluded Hermione.

"I'm off to Potions." she said later that day, and she slipped off to her usual potions lessons.

"Ah, Miss Granger." said Snape. "Today we will be brewing wolfsbane potion."

Hermione paled, before setting off to work, procuring a shrivelfig, wolfsbane, moonstone, fairy wing, and a number of other ingredients. It was the hardest potion she ever brewed, but she managed.

Soon it was time to go to Hogsmeade. Hermione bundled herself in a nice pair of jeans, a green shirt, and a thick silver jacket. Hogsmeade was amazing, like nothing she had ever seen! They picked up school equipment from Dervish and Bangs, visited the Shrieking Shack, stopped at Zonkos, and mostly stayed at the Three Broomsticks for butterbeer. The drink was warm and frothy as it went down her throat.

"I like Hogsmeade." grinned Pansy contentedly, resting her head on Draco's shoulder as they walked back. Hermione was piggy backing Crabbe, and Daphne Goyle, and the two were racing boys. Blaise and Theo were betting on who was faster. After dropping by the Common Room and changing into comfortable clothes, they went up to the Great Hall.

It had been decorated with hundreds and hundreds of candle-filled pumpkins, a cloud of fluttering live bats, and many flaming orange streamers, which were swimming lazily across the stormy ceiling like brilliant watersnakes.

"What I've never understood," said Flora, "Is why they have a feast right after people come back from Hogsmeade stuffed with sweets from Honeydukes and butterbeer."

"Dumbledore," said Hermione, "is the leading cause of obesity in Great Britain."

"Cheers to that!" roared Marcus, and laughing they cheered.

The feast finished with an entertainment provided by the Hogwarts ghosts. They popped out of the walls and tables to do a bit of formation gliding; Nearly Headless Nick, the Gryffindor ghost, had a great success with a reenactment of his own botched beheading.

"I love this feast." sighed Daphne, as they went up.

"Best feast ever." nodded Blaise.

"Does it ever bother you?" asked Daphne as they changed into nightclothes. "Seeing Draco with Pansy like that."

"He's allowed to date who he wants." Hermione said uncomfortably.

Daphne only smirked and went to bed. Before any of them could sleep, however, they were woken up.

"We're needed downstairs!" said Pansy.

Hermione went down, and sat on her usual couch. Slytherin House looked like a meeting of small nobles, with the entire house downstairs, but in their PJ's.

"Everyone is to go to the Great Hall." said Snape. "Sirius Black got into Gryffindor House."

They all trooped down to the Great Hall, quickly fixing their hair along the way. "The teachers and I need to conduct a thorough search of the castle," Professor Dumbledore told them as Professors McGonagall and Flitwick closed all doors into the hall. "I'm afraid that, for your own safety, you will have to spend the night here. I want the prefects to stand guard over the entrances to the hall and I am leaving the Head Boy and Girl in charge.

Professor Dumbledore paused, about to leave the hall, and said, "Oh, yes, you'll be needing..."

One casual wave of his wand and the long tables flew to the edges of the hall and stood themselves against the walls; another wave, and the floor was covered with hundreds of squashy purple sleeping bags.

"Sleep well," said Professor Dumbledore, closing the door behind him.

"Let's just sleep." Hermione sighed, as all the Slytherins chose the most strategic corner. It was in the corner opposite the doors and antechamber, so they were the safest.

"Why did Black even break in?" Blaise wondered.

"You tell me." snorted Daphne.

"How did he get in?" asked Hermione.

"Excellent question Princess." Blaise grinned.

"Disguise." said Elan, listing the obvious choice.

"He can't get in through disguise." scoffed Hermione. "Read Hogwarts a History."

The school talked of nothing but Sirius Black for the next few days. The theories about how he had entered the castle became wilder and wilder; Hannah Abbott, from Hufflepuff, spent much of their next Herbology class telling anyone who'd listen that Black could turn into a flowering shrub.

"That's stupid!" Theo yelped as they walked from Herbology.

"She's a Hufflepuff." smirked Draco, gaping at him as though it were obvious.

"Guess What?" smirked Marcus, hurrying into the room.

"Chicken Butt." they all chorused, and Hermione laughed.

"No, I got our team out of playing in the rain." said Marcus. "The weather didn't look good so I got the cut Draco had on his arm as an excuse. Now the Hufflepuffs are playing."

"Thank god." sighed Hermione. "I thought you were all going to kill yourselves."

The day before the match, the winds reached howling point and the rain fell harder than ever. It was so dark inside the corridors and classrooms that extra torches and lanterns were lit. The Slytherin team was looking very smug indeed, since they wouldn't have to play.

Hermione was now sitting in DADA, and instead of Lupin coming in, Professor Snape came in.

"Professor Lupin is too sick today, so I will be teaching." he said softly.

" Professor Lupin has not left any record of the topics you have covered so far. Can one of you tell me what you have already covered?"

"Please, sir, we've done Boggarts, Red Caps, Kappas, and Grindylows," said Hermione quickly.

"Thank you Miss Granger. Today we will work on," he flipped to the back of the book, "Werewolves."

There was a murmur at this, most of them had been hoping to start the harder topics, instead of working on these creatures.

"Turn to page 394." said Professor Snape, and they all turned. There was a picture of a wolf on two legs, growling, and Hermione was struck by the savage way they looked.

"Which of you can tell me how we distinguish between the werewolf and the true wolf?" said Snape.

Theo raised his hand in the air. "Mr Nott?" Snape asked.

"The werewolf differs from the wolf in several ways. The snout of the werewolf is longer, and the claws are more tufted. Their tail also behaves in a more human way, and they generally walk on two not four legs."

"Good, ten points to Slytherin."

The rest of the lesson continued like this, and it was more informative than a week of Lupin's lessons combined.

"I want two feet on werewolves by Monday. Dismissed." said Professor Snape.

"Finally!" Blaise mooned. "A good lesson!"

"I know." Pansy snorted.

"Ready for Quidditch?" Draco asked with a grin.

"I can't wait to watch Gryffindor and Hufflepuff get soaked in the rain." Hermione smirked.

"I'm pretty sure it will just be a light sprinkle." said Vincent.

But it was considerably more than a bit of rain. Such was the popularity of Quidditch that the whole school turned out to watch the match as usual, but they ran down the lawns toward the Quidditch field, heads bowed against the ferocious wind, umbrellas being whipped out of their hands as they went.

"Warming and Drying Charms!" Elan shouted to them before disappearing into the crowd.

"Why didn't we think of that?" Daphne wondered as they all applied the charms before hurrying to the section of the stands that was covered.

"It's because we're idiots." Draco replied with a small smile.

Soon the game started, but Hermione could barely see the players swerving and dodging. Lee Jordan's microphone had been amplified nearly 16 times its usual volume, and Hermione was completely relying on it, wondering how the boy could even see.

Gryffindor called a timeout, and then the game continued. Then, it all went cold. An eerie silence was falling across the stadium. The wind, though as strong as ever, was forgetting to roar.

"Dementors." chattered Blaise, who was freezing despite the warming charms. There they were, the long black cloaked creatures, with scabby hands and cold breath. Hermione shuddered at her first real look at a dementor. Frost swept the field.

Hermione vaguely noticed Dumbledore chasing the dementors away with a silvery light, but mostly she was worrying about keeping herself warm, barely noticing when all Slytherin students shepherded themselves to the exit.

"Who won?" Hermione asked back in the common room once she had been warmed up.

"Hufflepuff." said Draco grimly.

"Better than Gryffindor." smiled Theo, trying to look at the bright side.

"I'm going to Professor Snape." said Hermione softly, leaving the room.

"Yes Miss Granger?" he asked when she entered his office. "I believe that Potions are tomorrow."

"What's the silvery thing Dumbledore used to stop the dementors?" Hermione asked.

"It is a complicated charm known as the Patronus Charm."

"Teach me how to cast it."

"Miss Granger," he scoffed, "I hardly think a thirteen year old girl like yourself will be able to cast such an advanced charm."

"Then teach me." replied Hermione, more determined.

Professor Snape had a haggard look on his face before he sighed, and Hermione smiled brightly. "Very well Granger, but first you should learn about the dementor. Dementors are among the foulest creatures that walk this earth. They infest the darkest, filthiest places, they glory in decay and despair, they drain peace, hope, and happiness out of the air around them. Even Muggles feel their presence, though they can't see them. Get too near a Dementor and every good feeling, every happy memory will be sucked out of you. If it can, the Dementor will feed on you long enough to reduce you to something like itself - soul-less and evil. You'll be left with nothing but the worst experiences of your life. A patronus can only be cast be summoning up your happiest memories, and they will take a corporeal form if one is strong enough."

"What's your sir?"

Instead of answering, he muttered under his breath and a bright white doe appeared in the room, prancing around. Hermione was struck. "She's beautiful." Hermione breathed.

"She was." said Snape softly.

"What's the charm?" Hermione asked.

"Expecto Patronum. Think of your happiest memories while you say it, something that makes you truly happy."

Hermione closed her eyes and searched her feelings for a happy memory. She had a lot of them at Hogwarts. She decided on the moment she was sorted into Slytherin and made new friends immediately.

"Expecto Patronum." she said, and a silvery mist left her wand, before sputtering out.

"You need a stronger memory." said Snape.

Hermione thought again, before choosing the happiness and acceptance she felt at the Malfoy's for Summer Break.

"Expecto Patronum!" she said louder, but only a silvery mist came from her wand again. Suddenly tired from all the strong magic, Hermione sat down, barely noticing as Snape gave her a piece of chocolate to eat.

"Search for a happy memory and come back next Wednesday." he said gently.

Hermione grinned and left. Time continued, and winter break was sneaking up on them, Two weeks before the end of the term, the sky lightened suddenly to a dazzling, opaline white and the muddy grounds were revealed one morning covered in glittering frost. Inside the castle, there was a buzz of Christmas in the air. Professor Flitwick, the Charms teacher, had already decorated his classroom with shimmering lights that turned out to be real, fluttering fairies. The students were all happily discussing their plans for the holidays.

"You're coming to Malfoy Manor, right?" Draco asked hopefully.

"I could never say no." Hermione smirked.

"Come on you two." Daphne grumbled. "Let's go to Hogsmeade."

Bundled up in warm jackets, Hermione piggy backed Crabbe outside again, and won the race against Daphne and Greg.

"Look!" murmured Theo, and they all clumped closer to get a good look.

BY ORDER OF THE MINISTRY OF MAGIC

Customers are reminded that until further notice, Dementors will be patrolling the streets of Hogsmeade every night after sundown. This measure has been put in place for the safety of Hogsmeade residents and will be lifted upon the recapture of Sirius Black. It is therefore advisable that you complete your shopping well before nightfall.

Merry Christmas!

"Well we know for sure the place is safe now." Hermione muttered.

"Come on!" said Draco, rushing into Honeydukes. Hermione followed with the rest of the gang at a more sedate pace. Draco and his sweet tooth. "Jelly Slugs or Fizzing Whizzbees?" he asked.

"Acid Pops." Pansy drawled, and they all laughed at the look of disgust on his face.

"Never thought I'd see Draco with that look when it comes to candy." Hermione teased.

When they finally left the sweet shop, there was a blizzard outside. Hogsmeade looked like a Christmas card; the little thatched cottages and shops were all covered in a layer of crisp snow; there were holly wreaths on the doors and strings of enchanted candles hanging in the trees.

"Three Broomsticks?" Draco asked.

"Definitely." Blaise moaned.

Hermione loved the Three Broomsticks. It was a beautiful place. It was extremely crowded, noisy, warm, and smoky. A curvy sort of woman with a pretty face, Madame Rosmerta, was serving a bunch of rowdy warlocks up at the bar.

"You reckon we can get Firewhiskey in here?" Theo muttered, and Hermione gaped.

"We're underage!"

"Lighten up." smirked Draco.

"We can't." sniffed Pansy. "Maybe if we went to the Hogs Head, but that place is dreadful."

"Merlin!" Hermione breathed over her warm butterbeer. "Is that McGonagall and Flitwick?"

Professors McGonagall and Flitwick had just entered the pub with a flurry of snowflakes, shortly followed by Hagrid, who was deep in conversation with a portly man in a lime-green bowler hat and a pinstriped cloak - Cornelius Fudge, Minister of Magic.

"And Hagrid and Fudge!" said Vincent.

"Damn." Daphne said. "They're getting a private room. I would love to eavesdrop on that conversation."

The next day Hermione boarded the Hogwarts Express and was at Malfoy Manor before she knew it. Hermione spent her time there like always, playing and laughing with her friends. The Malfoy's had a wonderful section of the library devoted to healing, and Hermione had devoured many of the books in there. The only hitch came on the day before the Christmas Dinner.

Mrs Malfoy was working on designs for her fashion line when a shrill high shriek echoed from Hermione's room.

"Hermione?" she asked, hurrying there and entering to see Hermione huddled in a corner pointing at a pair of white panties.

"Miss Malfoy!" she shriek sobbed. "My panties, they- it- red- I just…"

"Hermione." said Narcissa gently, giving her a calming tea. "Is there blood on your panties?"

"Yes." said Hermione with wide eyes.

Narcissa burst into laughter. "My dear, that's natural. It's called your periods. Didn't your mother teach you about them?"

"No. I only read about them." Hermione snapped.

"Well they are part of a woman's menses. They will happen every month for a few days, and are nothing more than blood coming out of your privates. All women have them!"

"I had thought only muggles got them." Hermione blushed.

"We wish." she chuckled. "But we have an easier way to deal with them. All you must do is cast an absorption charm on your panties."

"That's not too bad." said Hermione, calming down.

"The incantation is Sorbere."

"I'm sorry for panicking." she blushed.

"I'm alright." Narcissa smiled, before leaving the room.

Hermione's eyes followed her with a pang in her heart. What she would give for that woman to be her mother. The next day was the Christmas Dinner, and Hermione pulled on her dress for the dinner. Narcissa had designed it herself, and it was one of the top dresses in her fashion line Cisstastic, in the new spring line that wasn't out yet. It was a silver halter style dress that ended a little above her knees. Paired with a long pair of silver earrings, the silver bracelet Blaise gave her for Christmas, and a pair of silver strappy heels, she was ready. Her hair was straightened and pulled into a complicated and cinched bun braid. She had on light silver eyeshadow and her face was paled by a shade. Pink lip gloss finished it, and Hermione looked amazing.

"Will you let me take a picture honey?" asked Narcissa.

"Why?" she asked.

"For my fashion line of course. This dress is perfect, but with you as a model it's even better. It would go in the catalog! And you would be paid, if you would like."

Hermione paused to think of this. A model! She had never thought of doing such a thing but it seemed like a good job until she grew up.

"I'd like to." she said quietly.

"Excellent!" Narcissa gushed. "Now I want you to sit on the handrest of that green couch, yes, now pull yourself back a little and smile!"

Hermione smiled, perched on the handrest. This was going to be fun! After the pictures, Hermione walked down to the main room for kids.

"Hermione!" Pansy squealed, dragging her over to a girl corner. "You look amazing!"

Daphne was in a high necked teal gown, combined with peach belt that went until her knees. Her hair was loose and curled, her lips natural, and her eyes outlined darkly. Pansy was in a light blue open shoulder dress with a few ruffles, her hair straightened. Her eyeshadow was unusually sparse, with only a few dabs of light blue, but the giant necklace around her neck made up for it. It was golden with a blue opal in the middle hanging off the charm.

"Do you like it?" Pansy asked. "It was a present from Draco!"

Hermione smiled and laughed, doing her best to push down the pang of jealousy in her heart.

"OK!" Marcus Flint roared, quieting the room. "Everyone partner up!"

Last year Hermione was with Draco, but this year he paired up with Pansy since they were dating. Hermione stood around a little until she noticed Theo approach her. "Partners?" he asked with a soft smile, and Hermione grinned at her curly haired friend.

"I'd love too." she said gratefully, taking his hand. They entered the ballroom, and Hermione sat down with her friends.

"You all look wonderful." Blaise purred, mostly staring at Daphne's legs.

"Pervert." Daphne muttered, kicking him sharply.

Hermione winced. Daphne was wearing high pointy heels, with which she just jabbed him. "Don't mess with her." she smirked. "Daphne packs a punch."

"I know." Blaise replied, and Hermione just sighed and shook her head, before exchanging galleons with Draco. Throughout the evening, Daphne kicked Blaise 6 times. Hermione had bet 5 or more. Draco bet 10 or more. She won, and Blaise's shins were bruised.

Hermione went to bed and woke up the next day, before spending the rest of the day curled up in the library reading her new books, trying to ignore how much Draco was annoying her. Soon they were going back to Hogwarts, and Hermione had her hands full with Slytherin Quidditch Practice. The worst came after a practice before their big game against Gryffindor.

Hermione was healing a few bruises while the boys showered, and Draco went ahead. "I'm already done." he said. "I'll meet you in the Common Room Mione."

After everyone was good, Hermione walked back with the team, before she heard something. "Did you hear that?" she asked.

It sounded like someone was hurt. Hermione snuck there following Marcus, worried about what was going on. She didn't like what she found. The Gryffindor Quidditch Boys along with Weasley and Potter were standing around the bruised body of Draco Malfoy laughing meanly.

"Drop him in the lake!" Weasley jeered, and with an evil grin one of the Twins levitated him up. Hermione felt rage fill her. Bastards. She started to pull out her wand, but was stopped.

"Let me hex them!" she snarled, a truly primordial angry expression on her face.

"Wait." said Abraham Montague quietly, and Adrian Pucey, a prefect, came forward.

"What is going on here?" he asked coldly, and in their shock the Weasley Twins dropped Draco on his head. "This is plain bullying. We're going to a teacher."

Abraham let go of Hermione and she immediately rushed to his side, putting his head on his lap, and running a scan of his body. Now she was all businesslike.

"Broken Leg. Black Eye, Fractured tendon in his elbow, and one broken rib. Multiple jinxes and hexes on him, including Jelly Legs and Boils. He has a minor concussion, and a few small burns from the stinging jinx. I can't handle this here, I'll have to take him to the dorms."

"Abraham, Terrence, you two lift him up carefully. Hermione, run to the castle and set up what you need. We'll take him to your room. We'll go on broom to be faster. Adrian and Mitch are taking the Gryffindors to the castle." said Marcus.

Hermione ran to her room, barely noticing her friends worried expressions. When Pansy and Daphne entered she enlisted their help. "You two!" she barked. "I need you to go down to the Potions Lab and pull by Healing Salve off the fire. Daphne, stay here."

"What happened?" Pansy asked with a frightened expression on her face.

"Draco was hurt by some Gryffindors." she said softly, before going back into her business mode.

"Hermione they're coming!" shrieked Daphne, and carefully Draco was set on the bed.

Hermione carefully tipped a light blue potion in his mouth. "Pain reliever." she explained.

Moving on she healed his bruises and removed to jinxes. "This part is going to hurt." she said. "I need two of you to hold his leg still while I heal the bones. It'll feel like they're being snapped into place, and will hurt."

Carefully Daphne and Marcus lined up, holding his leg. With a spell, Hermione snapped his leg back into place and healed his bones. Draco screamed in pain, and Hermione nearly cried, but pulled herself together.

"I'll need the same for his elbow." Hermione said, but this time she tipped a small potion in his mouth. With another scream, Draco passed out.

"Is he fine?" Pansy shrieked.

"Fine." Hermione replied. "I gave him a potion for his concussion and his elbow, a spell healed his leg and bruises, and the healing salve soothed his skin from the stinging jinx."

"What about the game?" Abraham asked. It was at this point that Hermione noticed that the entire team and all her friends were in her dorm.

"He won't be able to play tomorrow." said Hermione. "Madame Pomfrey would say that too."

"We'll have to forfeit!" said Terrence.

"We can't." said Marcus grimly. "One forfeit per season, and we used it against the Gryffindors at the beginning of the year. We have to find a reserve."

"We don't have a reserve!" Adrian panicked.

"My big brother Elan is pretty good at flying." volunteered Pansy, who was sitting next to Draco stroking his head.

"We'll have to hope he's good enough. Let's go." said Marcus, walking out.

"Where will you sleep?" asked Blaise.

"I'll take Draco's bed." she said softly, before changing and getting ready.

As Hermione snuggled into the blankets, she wondered why. Why did he have to be attacked for no reason? People said Slytherins were monsters, but Gryffindors were just as bad. They were worse. Mentally, Hermione added some people to her TO KILL list. Oliver Wood. Fred Weasley. George Weasley. Harry Potter. Ronald Weasley. Every single one of them would die.

Chapter Text

They lost the Quidditch Game to Potter again, and Hermione wondered for not the first time why she bothered with this sport. Worst of all, Potter had received a Firebolt! A bloody Firebolt!

When Draco woke up and found out he was in a tiff for days, but what cheered him up was that even with winning all their Quidditch Games Gryffindor would not win the House Cup. Every single one of the people involved in his attack had been given detention, and Professor Snape took great pleasure in scheduling them on the days of their practices. Each of them had lost 75 points, but best of all, they were embarrassed in front of the school thanks to Hermione.

Dear Miss Skeeter,

Hello. My name is Hermione Granger, muggleborn. I'm a third year Slytherin, and I was hoping you could help me out. A few days ago my friend Draco Malfoy was brutally attacked by some Gryffindors, and it prevented him from playing in the Quidditch Game. He received a concussion, bruises, a broken tendon, a shattered bone, a broken rib, and some burns from hexes. He was out for nearly two days, and still is not allowed to play Quidditch due to the damage in his leg.

We were not able to go to Madame Pomfrey due to the fact that she favors Gryffindors, and would not have helped him. I know this is very presumptuous of me, but I was hoping you could write an article about this discrediting the boys who attacked my friend. They are: Harry Potter, Ron Weasley, Fred Weasley, George Weasley, and Oliver Wood.

Yours Truly,

Hermione Granger

Dear Miss Granger,

I was delighted to see your letter! Not many people have the courage to go up to someone and ask for what they want. I completely understand where you come from. I was a half-blood Slytherin and have seen some of the horrible things Gryffindors do. Please continue to write to me, perhaps we could have a partnership.

By the way, I love the dress you modeled. I was sent a copy of my daily fashion magazine and you look stunning!

Sincerely,

Rita Skeeter

Slytherin Student attacked!

By Rita Skeeter

Hello my readers, and today I would like to inform you all about an injustice performed at Hogwarts. A few days ago, right before the big Gryffindor Slytherin match Slytherin Seeker Draco Malfoy was brutally injured. By whom, you may ask? The answer is a group of errant Gryffindor boys: Oliver Wood, Ronald Weasley, Fred Weasley, George Weasley, and worst of all, Harry Potter.

I would like to pause for a moment and think of this- Harry Potter, the supposed Savior, has turned out to be a cruel bully!

Mr Malfoy's injuries were a concussion, broken tendon in his elbow, shattered leg, bruises, broken rib, and burns from jinxes. He was healed by his classmate Hermione Granger, who did not trust the Hogwarts Healer enough.

"The entire school is against us. I know that sounds dumb, but they all hate me just for my house! It's absurd, and we have to learn to protect ourselves. Every teacher is the same too- I have gathered statistics on it." says Slytherin Student Hermione Granger.

"It's a travesty!" says father Lucius Malfoy. "My son was seriously injured, but couldn't even trust the school nurse! On top of that, the students have only recieved two months worth of detention and 75 points from each."

"Dumbledore has always done this. The Gryffindors are his precious students, while my snakes are forced to grow up to protect themselves. Many have found that I am biased towards Slytherins in my classes, but I make up for the points they lose in other classes." says Potions Professor Severus Snape.

And there you have the full story folks! Can you believe it! Should we continue to allow a full house of students to be segregated against, or should we stop it! I'm Rita Skeeter, and this is the Daily Prophet.

Hermione laughed while reading the article. It was perfect. Hermione noticed how a number of students were glaring at the Gryffindors, and grinned. Harry Potter in particular was looking pale at the article.

"Have I ever told you how much I love you?" sighed Draco, sitting down. "This is wonderful!"

"There's our Hermione!" said Hestia, wiping away a fake tear. "Already moving mountains!"

"This might actually help." grinned Chastity Knight.

And help it did. Throughout the week, a number of Ravenclaws and Hufflepuffs came to apologize for their actions. Gryffindor did nothing, and Hermione was elated. Just last week Susan Bones had pushed her off, but today she came and apologized. Not everyone did it, but it was a start.

Even when Mr Ugly the rat escaped Hermione was happy. Hermione's patronus lessons had continued, and Hermione's patronus had solidified enough for Hermione to tell it was avian. She had done some reading too.

The Patronus can take many shapes and forms, but magical creatures are the rarest. Dragons, Phoenixes, and Thestrals are among the rarest magical creatures a person can have as their patronus. All animals signify different aspects of a person's life. It may become their loved ones animagus form, or change to fit their loved ones. Lions, for example, usually come from brash but brave people, while Snakes come from Ambitious but kind people. True love occurs when a person's Patronus changes to match the patronus of their true love.

"Hermione!" bellowed Blaise, and Hermione looked up in annoyance from her book. She had of course been forced to sit at the Gryffindor Ravenclaw Game, but it was garbage. Lee Jordan talked about nothing other than the Firebolt, and when Gryffindor finally won he took great pleasure in bellowing, "HA! TAKE THAT SLYTHERIN! WE WON!"

Hermione decided to write to Rita about the biased Quidditch commentary, and hope that it could be solidified into an article. Her aim was to enlighten the Wizarding World on their biases.

"Slytherins." announced Professor Snape the next morning, when they were all ready for breakfast. "Sirius Black broke into Gryffindor again, nearly killing Ronald Weasley with a knife. Security has been tightened. Be warned. I would also like to award Miss Granger 30 points for the perfect brewing of Wolfsbane Potion, a seventh year level potion."

Hermione grinned and blushed, but they moved on. Throughout the day, everywhere they went they saw signs of tighter security; Professor Flitwick could be seen teaching the front doors to recognize a large picture of Sirius Black; Filch was suddenly bustling up and down the corridors, boarding up everything from tiny cracks in the walls to mouse holes. Professor Snape had taught every Slytherin stunning spells in case he came to Slytherin.

A few days later, Neville Longbottom received a Howler, and Hermione practically cackled as his grandmother started shrieking at him for defiling the family name.

"What did he do to get that?" Draco wondered.

"He wrote down the week's password and left it lying around for Sirius Black to find." smirked Hermione, and even Draco was in awe at the stupidity of Longbottom.

A month later Hogsmeade came, and dressed in a lighter black skirt and flowy silver shirt, Hermione went to Hogsmeade with her friends, enjoying the sunlight.

The day was light and breezy, so none of them wanted to be indoors.

"Shrieking Shack?" Hermione offered.

"Sounds cool." grinned Draco.

When they walked up, they were sadly greeted with Weasley, who was alone for some reason.

"What are you doing, Weasley?" he asked.

Hermione looked up at the crumbling house behind Ron.

"Suppose you'd love to live here, wouldn't you, Weasley? Dreaming about having your own bedroom? I heard your family all sleep in one room - is that true?" she taunted.

SPLAT!

Draco's head jerked forward as the mud hit him; his silverblond hair was suddenly dripping in muck.

"What the -?"

Weasley had to hold onto the fence to keep himself standing, he was laughing so hard. The rest of them spun around, trying to figure out where it came from.

"What was that? Who did that?" Blaise snapped.

"Very haunted up here, isn't it?" said Weasley, with the air of one commenting on the weather.

Quickly, Daphne pulled out her wand and hexed him, but before Hermione could shield them, a glob of mud hit Daphne and she gasped. Her hair. Her beautiful golden blonde hair. Quickly, Hermione erected a shield around them which would splatter the mud back at the attacker.

SPLATTER!

Hermione saw the vague outline of a boy, and immediately realized how he was hiding. Invisibility Cloaks. She had read about them. And if Weasley was here the boy was probably Potter…

"STUPEFY!" Theo shouted, catching on quick.

Potter dropped down, and with a small cry of rage, Weasley launched himself at Theo. He went down thanks to a quick stunner from Greg.

"I wonder what Professor Snape would think about this." Pansy wondered, lips curling maliciously.

Half an hour later Gryffindor was down 50 points and Potter and Weasley had another month of detention, along with the Invisibility Cloak confiscated, though Dumbledore made Snape give it back. Hermione, grumbled about it for a long time.

"An Invisibility Cloak!" she ranted. "That can't be allowed!"

"He's a Gryffindor." chorused the others, and Hermione scowled.

Hermione was in Divination, wondering again why she took this class.

"I thought we weren't starting crystal balls until next term," Blaise muttered, casting a wary eye around for Professor Trelawney, in case she was lurking nearby.

"Don't complain, this means we've finished palmistry," Draco muttered back. "I was getting sick of her flinching every time she looked at my hands."

Trelawney had proved to be an old bat, and every time she saw Draco she would flinch and say that dark magic surrounded him.

"Good day to you!" said the familiar, misty voice, and Professor Trelawney made her usual dramatic entrance out of the shadows.

"I have decided to introduce the crystal ball a little earlier than I had planned," said Professor Trelawney, sitting with her back to the fire and gazing around. "The fates have informed me that your examination in June will concern the Orb, and I am anxious to give you sufficient practice."

Hermione snorted.

"Well, honestly...'the fates have informed her'. Who sets the exam? She does! What an amazing prediction!" she said, not troubling to keep her voice low. Her friends choked back laughs, while Daphne silenced herself to let herself laugh.

It was hard to tell whether Professor Trelawney had heard them as her face was hidden in shadow. She continued, however, as though she had not.

"Crystal gazing is a particularly refined art," she said dreamily. "I do not expect any of you to See when first you peer into the Orb's infinite depths. We shall start by practicing relaxing the conscious mind and external eyes -" Theo began to snigger uncontrollably and had to stuff his fist in his mouth to stifle the noise - "so as to clear the Inner Eye and the superconscious. Perhaps, if we are lucky, some of you will see before the end of the class."

And so they began. Hermione, at least, felt extremely foolish, staring blankly at the crystal ball, trying to keep her mind empty when thoughts such as "this is stupid" kept drifting across it. It didn't help that Pansy kept breaking into silent giggles and Daphne kept tutting.

"Seen anything yet?" Hermione asked them after a quarter of an hour's quiet crystal gazing.

"Yeah, there's a burn on this table," said Draco, pointing. "Someone's spilled their candle."

Professor Trelawney rustled past.

"Would anyone like me to help them interpret the shadowy portents within their Orb?" she murmured over the clinking of her bangles.

"I don't need help," Blaise whispered. "It's obvious what this means. There's going to be loads of fog tonight."

Everyone at their table burst out laughing.

"Now, really!" said Professor Trelawney as everyone's heads turned in their direction. "You are disturbing the clairvoyant vibrations!" She approached their table and peered into their crystal ball. Hermione felt her heart sinking. She was sure she knew what was coming -

"There is something here!" Professor Trelawney whispered, lowering her face to the ball, so that it was reflected twice in her huge glasses. "Something moving... but what is it?" She stared at Draco's ball.

Hermione was willing to bet that it had something to do with Dark Magic.

"My dear," Professor Trelawney breathed, gazing up at Draco. "It is here, plainer than ever before... my dear, stalking toward you, growing ever closer... the Dar -"

"Oh, for goodness' sake!" said Hermione loudly. "Not that again! Did it ever occur to you that just because we're Slytherin doesn't mean we practice Dark Magic! I thought that not all the teachers would be biased hags, but I was wrong!"

Professor Trelawney raised her enormous eyes to Hermione's face. Professor Trelawney stood up, surveying Hermione with unmistakable anger.

"I am sorry to say that from the moment you have arrived in this class my dear, it has been apparent that you do not have what the noble art of Divination requires. Indeed, I don't remember ever meeting a student whose mind was so hopelessly mundane."

There was a moment's silence. Then -

"Fine!" said Hermione suddenly, getting up and cramming Unfogging the Future back into her bag. "Fine!" she repeated, swinging the bag over her shoulder and almost knocking Theo off his chair. "I give up! I'm leaving!"

And to the whole class's amazement, Hermione strode over to the trapdoor, kicked it open, and climbed down the ladder out of sight.

Hermione spent the rest of the period in the common room, before going to dinner.

"How could you do that?" wondered Daphne.

"That woman gets on my nerves." Hermione mumbled. "We don't use Dark Magic."

A week later, Gryffindor won the Quidditch Cup like always, and Hermione groaned, hoping for at least the House Cup.

Exams were nearly upon them, and instead of lazing around outside, the students were forced to remain inside the castle, trying to bully their brains into concentrating while enticing wafts of summer air drifted in through the windows. Even Flora and Hestia had been spotted working; they were about to take their O.W.L.s (Ordinary Wizarding Levels). Elan was getting ready to take his N.E.W.T.s (Nastily Exhausting Wizarding Tests), the highest qualification Hogwarts offered. As Elan hoped to enter the Ministry of Magic, he needed top grades. He wanted to become the Junior Undersecretary to the Minister.

Potions that afternoon was easy, and Hermione whipped through the Confusing Concoction, pocketing some like always. She was sure she had scored a full mark on that.

Then came Astronomy at midnight, up on the tallest tower; History of Magic on Wednesday morning, in which Hermione scribbled everything she knew from books. Wednesday afternoon meant Herbology, in the greenhouses under a baking-hot sun; then back to the common room once more, with sunburnt necks, thinking longingly of this time next day, when it would all be over.

Their second to last exam, on Thursday morning, was Defense Against the Dark Arts. Professor Lupin had compiled the most unusual exam any of them had ever taken; a sort of obstacle course outside in the sun, where they had to wade across a deep paddling pool containing a Grindylow, cross a series of potholes full of Red Caps, squish their way across a patch of marsh while ignoring misleading directions from a Hinkypunk, then climb into an old trunk and battle with a new Boggart.

"Outstanding grade," Lupin muttered as Hermione climbed out of the trunk, smirking. "Full marks."

Flushed with her success, Hermione hung around to watch Pansy and Theo. Theo did very well until he reached the Hinkypunk, which successfully confused him into sinking waist-high into the quagmire. Pansy did everything perfectly until she reached the trunk with the Boggart in it. After about a minute inside it, she burst out again, screaming.

"I was ugly!" she shrieked, and Hermione immediately lost all composure and collapsed in laughter.

That evening Hermione was called to Professor Snape's office.

"Yes sir?" she asked politely.

"Miss Granger, I have a small test I would like you to take. I have already graded your Felix Felicis and it is not bad." Hermione flushed. By his standards, her potion was perfect.

Then, she took the test. The written portion was not too bad, and Hermione from all her reading zipped through it. Then began the practical. She was brewing literally the hardest potion there was, Veritaserum. After two hours, and a lot of sweat, Hermione had finished, and her potion looked pretty good.

"Miss Granger," began Professor Snape after her potion was bottled and done, "You have no idea of how proud I am. You have been my diligent student for three years, and suffice to say that you have learned much. Do you remember the quiz I gave you in January?"

Hermione remembered. It was laughably easy, and she had wondered why Snape bothered with such a thing.

"That was an OWL level test, and you received an Outstanding on that."

Hermione gaped at him. Third Year and she passed her OWLS!

"I would like to give you a small gift, for your time as my pupil. We will continue, but the lessons will be more to refine your skills."

He pulled out a black box with golden engravings in it, and Hermione looked at it in wonder. The engravings were in the shapes of vines of roses except for a place in the middle of the top, where one word was engraved in it- PRINCESS. It was tiny, and fit into her hand, but when Hermione opened it it expanded to nearly as large as her torso. Inside was every single potion she had ever brewed.. In a special compartment Hermione noticed the special potions like Veritaserum, Felix Felicis, and Contraceptive. In another compartment was her healing potions, nutrient potions, and joke potions.

Hermione felt a lump in her throat. "Sir." she said in a cracked voice, before doing what no student had ever done. Hugging Professor Snape.

Hermione wasn't even sure if she was thinking straight, but all she knew was that this was a beautiful gift, and meant a lot. Surprisingly, Snape didn't push her away, but when Hermione pulled away, pink cheeked, who only smiled. Not a snarky or sadistic smile, but a real, small smile.

"Why princess?" she asked.

"Ask your friends." he replied, before shooing her out.

"Guys?" she asked, hurrying towards her friends, box in her robe pocket, but then noticed that they were following some people.

"Weasley and Potter are sneaking out again." Draco said softly, and with a small smirk, Hermione followed. The two went outside, where for some reason Weasley was mauled by a black dog and pulled into a passageway in the Whomping Willow. After Potter froze the tree, they followed. After ten minutes of fast walking in drafty passages, they arrived in a room.

It was a room, a very disordered, dusty room. Paper was peeling from the walls; there were stains all over the floor; every piece of furniture was broken as though somebody had smashed it. The windows were all boarded up.

"It's the Shrieking Shack." muttered Blaise, and looking around Hermione saw the similarities. They followed Potter into an upstairs room where Weasley was on the bed, his leg at a crooked angle, Crookshanks sitting on top of him.

Then the door closed behind them, and Hermione watched in horror as they were trapped in the room, barely hiding. The man that had closed the door was ugly.

A mass of filthy, matted hair hung to his elbows. If eyes hadn't been shining out of the deep, dark sockets, he might have been a corpse. The waxy skin was stretched so tightly over the bones of his face, it looked like a skull. His yellow teeth were bared in a grin. It was Sirius Black.

"Expelliarmus!" he croaked, pointing Weasley's wand at Potter.

"I thought you'd come and help your friend," he said hoarsely.

His voice sounded as though he had long since lost the habit of using it. "Your father would have done the same for me. Brave of you not to run for a teacher. I'm grateful...it will make everything much easier..."

"If you want to kill Harry, you'll have to kill us too!" Weasley said fiercely, though the effort of standing upright was draining him of still more color, and he swayed slightly as he spoke. Hermione rolled her eyes at the fool, before jumping out.

"Expelliarmus!" she cried, disarming Black.

"Granger." snarled Weasley, but Hermione just stared at Black. Why wasn't he attacking? A loyal lieutenant to the Dark Lord shouldn't have been bested by such a spell.

Draco, Pansy, Blaise, Greg, Vince, and Daphne followed her out, wands raised.

"Hello Mister Black." Hermione said quietly. "Now you have a few moments to tell me why I shouldn't kill you."

"You couldn't kill him!" scoffed Potter, and Hermione looked at him coldly.

"I am carrying 6 different poisons with me right now." and her remark shut him up.

"Granger?" Black asked. "I don't think that's a name I recognize."

"She's muggleborn." Draco sneered.

"She's a Slytherin!" scoffed Black.

"Turns out we aren't a bunch of racist aresholes. Amazing." drawled Blaise.

"So, you gonna kill?" Pansy asked.

"There'll be only one murder here tonight," said Black, and he grinned.

"Why?" Potter spat. "Wasn't enough for you to kill my parents? Going to kill me too?"

"Shut up Potter." Daphne groaned.

"HE KILLED MY MUM AND DAD!" Potter bellowed, lunging at Black.

Hermione couldn't see exactly what happened, but next thing she knew Black was choking Potter, and Hermione chose to watch.

"Aren't you going to help him?" Weasley spat.

"But I don't like Potter." she stated, making it sound obvious.

Suddenly Potter gained the upper hand and cornered Black, but before Potter could hurt him Crookshanks jumped on Black and stared.

"Crookshanks!" Hermione exclaimed. "What are you doing?" What was her cat doing? It was known that Kneazles didn't associate with evil people, and Crooks was half Kneazle.

The seconds lengthened. And still Potter stood frozen there, wand poised, Black staring up at him, Crookshanks on his chest. Weasley's ragged breathing came from near the bed; Hermione was quite silent.

And then came a new sound -

Muffled footsteps were echoing up through the floor - someone was moving downstairs.

"WE'RE UP HERE!" Hermione screamed suddenly. "WE'RE UP HERE - SIRIUS BLACK - QUICK!"

The door of the room burst open in a shower of red sparks and Hermione wheeled around as Professor Lupin came hurtling into the room, his face bloodless, his wand raised and ready. His eyes flickered over Weasley, lying on the floor, over the Slytherins, sitting on chairs watching, to Potter, standing there with his wand covering Black, and then to Black himself, crumpled and bleeding at Potter's feet.

"Expelliarmus!" Lupin shouted.

The wands slid out of Hermione's hands.

Then Lupin spoke, in a very tense voice.

"Where is he, Sirius?"

Hermione looked quickly at Lupin. She didn't understand what Lupin meant. Who was Lupin talking about? She turned to look at Black again.

Black's face was quite expressionless. For a few seconds, he didn't move at all. Then, very slowly, he raised his empty hand and pointed straight at Weasley. Mystified, Hermione glanced around at Weasley, who looked bewildered.

"But then..." Lupin muttered, staring at Black so intently it seemed he was trying to read his mind, "...why hasn't he shown himself before now? Unless" - Lupin's eyes suddenly widened, as though he was seeing something beyond Black, something none of the rest could see, "- unless he was the one...unless you switched... without telling me?"

Very slowly, his sunken gaze never leaving Lupin's face, Black nodded.

"Professor," Potter interrupted loudly, "what's going on -?"

But he never finished the question. Lupin was lowering his wand, gazing fixed at Black. The Professor walked to Black's side, seized his hand, pulled him to his feet so that Crookshanks fell to the floor, and embraced Black like a brother.

"WHAT!" Hermione shrieked. "YOU'RE SUPPOSED TO BE HELPING US!"

"I am Miss Granger." Lupin replied.

"Yeah right!" Hermione laughed sardonically. "As if I could trust you. Guys, he's a werewolf!"

There was a ringing silence. Everyone's eyes were now on Lupin, who looked remarkably calm, though rather pale.

"I'm afraid Miss Granger is right." he said slowly. "I am a werewolf. But how did you find out?"

"I've known for ages." Hermione sneered. "My first clue was how you were always sick around the full moon. Then Professor Snape assigned the essay on werewolves, giving me more information. Around November, my Potions lessons with him progressed to such a level that I started brewing your Wolfsbane, and that was the final key. After, I did some research. Remus John Lupin, bitten by Fenrir Greyback at the age of 5 on the eve of his birthday. You attended Hogwarts and became a prefect though not head boy. Your grades were all excellent and you were among the top Gryffindors in your year. You were best friends with James Potter, Sirius Black, and Peter Pettigrew. When you were 16 your parents died and you went to live at Potter Manor."

They all looked astounded. "You found all that from research?" Lupin questioned.

"Mh hm." Hermione nodded. "Newspapers, books, school records, and some talking with Mr and Mrs Malfoy."

"Malfoys." Black snarled, loathing in his eyes.

"Damn it!" Blaise exclaimed. "I just realized, we're trapped in a shack with a bunch of prejudiced Gryffindors, an escaped convict and a werewolf!"

"One more thing to mark of my bucket list." drawled Daphne.

"Hold on." said Theo. "How did you teach? Dumbledore had to know about your lycanthropy."

"He knew." Lupin admitted.

Dumbledore hired you when he knew you were a werewolf," Weasley gasped. "Is he mad?"

"Some of the staff thought so," said Lupin. "He had to work very hard to convince certain teachers that I'm trustworthy -"

"But you've been helping him!" Potter roared.

"I have not." he replied. "Now here, as a sign of trust." he tossed them all their wands. Hermione took it, and carefully without anyone noticing started to open her Potion box and look for the right potion.

"There," said Lupin, sticking his own wand back into his belt "You're armed, we're not. Now will you listen?"

"If you haven't been helping him, how did you know he was here?" Lupin asked.

"The map." Lupin replied, and Hermione started ignoring them. She had no idea what they were talking about.

"But I was under the Cloak?" Potter asked in confusion.

"The Map can still see you." replied Lupin. "And I saw you leave, and the Slytherins follow you. But you and Ron were with someone else.

"What?" said Potter. "No, we weren't!"

I couldn't believe my eyes,' said Lupin, still pacing, and ignoring Potter's interruption. "I thought the map must be malfunctioning. How could he be with you?"

"No one was with us!" said Potter.

"And then I saw another dot, moving fast toward you, labeled Sirius Black...I saw him collide with you; I watched as he pulled two of you into the Whomping Willow -"

"One of us!" Weasley said angrily.

"No, Ron," said Lupin. "Two of you."

He had stopped his pacing, his eyes moving over Weasley.

"Do you think I could have a look at the rat?" he said evenly.

"What?" said Weasley. "What's Scabbers got to do with it?"

"Everything," said Lupin. "Could I see him, please?"

Weasley hesitated, then put a hand inside his robes. Scabbers emerged, thrashing desperately; Weasley had to seize his long bald tail to stop him escaping. Crookshanks stood up on Black's leg and made a soft hissing noise.

"That's Mr Ugly!" Theo pointed out cheerfully.

Every Gryffindor was jarred by this. "What?" Weasley asked.

"Mr Ugly." Hermione exclaimed. "Crooks found him and brought him to us as a house pet. He escaped a little after you guys attacked Draco."

"You held my rat hostage!" Weasley exclaimed furiously.

"It's a rat." Draco replied with derision.

Lupin moved closer to Weasley. He seemed to be holding his breath as he gazed intently at Scabbers.

"What?" Weasley said again, holding Scabbers close to him, looking scared. "What's my rat got to do with anything?"

"That's not a rat," croaked Sirius Black suddenly.

"What d'you mean - of course he's a rat -"

"No, he's not," said Lupin quietly. "He's a wizard."

"An Animagus," said Black, "by the name of Peter Pettigrew."

Hermione stared at them all. "That means that he's illegal, because for our animagus essay in Transfiguration, I noted that there is no Rat Animagus in this century. It also means that he faked his death 12 years ago and probably framed Black for it, meaning that Black is innocent.

"How did you figure all that out from one statement?" Potter asked in disbelief.

"I have brains." Hermione drawled. After a few seconds, she realized something.

"Hold on, Pettigrew's records at school show that he had no brains. This means he probably had help. I'm betting that James Potter and Black were also animagus."

"James was a stag, and I a dog." Black said.

"Professor Snape was right!" said Draco. "We shouldn't trust you!"

"Snape?" said Black harshly, taking his eyes off Scabbers; for the first time in minutes and looking up at Lupin. "What's Snape got to do with it?"

"He's here, Sirius," said Lupin heavily. "He's teaching here as well."

"Professor Snape was at school with us. He fought very hard against my appointment to the Defense Against the Dark Arts job. He has been telling Dumbledore all year that I am not to be trusted. He has his reasons...you see, Sirius here played a trick on him which nearly killed him, a trick which involved me -"

"And he was right!" Hermione exclaimed. "What you've been teaching us is easy! The only good lessons we've had this year are boggarts and werewolves!"

Black made a derisive noise.

"It served him right," he sneered. "Sneaking around, trying to find out what we were up to...hoping he could get us expelled..."

"And this is why Slytherins hate Gryffindors. You lot are just as prejudiced if not more." Blaise snapped darkly.

"Severus was very interested in where I went every month." Lupin told them. "We were in the same year, you know, and we - er - didn't like each other very much. He especially disliked James. Jealous, I think, of James's talent on the Quidditch field...anyway Snape had seen me crossing the grounds with Madam Pomfrey one evening as she led me toward the Whomping Willow to transform. Sirius thought it would be - er - amusing, to tell Snape all he had to do was prod the knot on the tree trunk with a long stick, and he'd be able to get in after me. Well, of course, Snape tried it - if he'd got as far as this house, he'd have met a fully grown werewolf - but your father, who'd heard what Sirius had done, went after Snape and pulled him back, at great risk to his life...Snape glimpsed me, though, at the end of the tunnel. He was forbidden by Dumbledore to tell anybody, but from that time on he knew what I was..."

"As if!" Hermione sneered. "Professor Snape told me it was because Potter hexed him on his first day for acting like a slimy Slytherin."

"So that's why Snape doesn't like you," said Potter slowly, "because he thought you were in on the joke?"

"That's right," sneered a cold voice from the wall behind Lupin.

Severus Snape was pulling off the Invisibility Cloak, his wand pointing directly at Lupin.

"Professor!" Hermione screamed, jumping up.

"Hello Miss Granger." he replied.

"Can we leave now?" Crabbe asked.

"He's right." said Goyle.

"Can we go?" Hermione asked. "Honestly, I don't give a damn about what happens after this, but know this: Lupin hasn't taken his wolfsbane."

"Don't you carry around an extra vial?" Snape asked.

"I do," Hermione smiled sweetly, "but I don't like Lupin much. I wonder what would make the headlines- Werewolf Professor at Hogwarts?"

Lupin looked sick, Black furious, and Potter angry. Snape looked proud. Then everything went to hell. The rat jumped out of Weasley's hands and ran. Black lunged at the rat but it escaped, and the full moon came up.

"He's transforming!" Hermione shrieked, paralyzed with fear.

"RUN!" Snape bellowed, and they ran. Hermione ran and ran and ran out of the Shack… straight into a squad of Dementors.

"No." Pansy whispered faintly, and Hermione barely heard her fall. There were hundreds of them.

And Hermione knew what she had to do. Closing her eyes, she truly felt inside herself for a moment when she was happy. And then she felt it. Her, after the hippogriff incident, curled up on a couch with Draco, feeling his soft gaze on her.

"EXPECTO PATRONUM!" she bellowed, and from her wand came a long avian shape. With a screech the dementors scattered, and Hermione got her first good look at her patronus. It was a phoenix.

Phoenixes were known for being loyal to their friends and judges of good character. They were smart and powerful. Hermione barely felt herself fall, too busy she was staring at her patronus, and she passed out from magical exhaustion.

Chapter Text

When Hermione woke up, she was in the hospital wing. Next to her were cards from her friends, and a gorgeous silver bracelet that was shaped like a diamond biting it's tail. Along with it came a card from Pansy, Daphne, Vince, Greg, Blaise, Theo, and Draco thanking her for saving them. Then Professor Snape entered.

"Hello Professor." Hermione greeted. "What happened?"

"You passed out from magical exhaustion." he replied.

"And Black?" she asked.

"He escaped." Snape sneered. "Man flew away on a bloody hippogriff, but he's still a criminal. Potter managed to produce a fully fledged patronus in the shape of a stag and stop the dementors from kissing Black."

"That's good." Hermione said firmly. "Black can die, but not be dementors. That's cruel." and Hermione remembered something. "I produced my patronus!" she exclaimed.

"Indeed you did." he said lightly.

"Sir, Black said something about animagus at school. I want to do that. Can you help me?"

Snape just sighed and shook his head, wondering for the millionth time why he did this. "Why?"

"Because I want to be better than them." she said with a determined look.

"Very well. This summer I will send you your instructions." and he left.

Hermione was released after a few hours by Madame Pomfrey, and she went down to the dungeons. When she walked in, she was greeted by a torrent of applause. Bombarded with questions, Hermione ignored them all until she could join her friends, and Elan could shut them all up.

"What form does your patronus take?" he asked.

"Expecto Patronum!" Hermione pronounced, and her phoenix came flying out. Now that Hermione wasn't tired, she could examine it properly. Her phoenix was large, with glowing feathers and a mischievous look.

"A phoenix?" Marcus teased. "Aren't they supposed to be signs of the light?"

"There are Dark Phoenixes." Adrian Pucey pointed out.

"Enough about that." Abraham Montague interrupted. "We win the House Cup!"

Cheering filled the room. The days continued. Lupin was fired because Hermione in her anger at Potter and Black had written a wonderful letter to Rita Skeeter.

Dear Rita,

I thought you would like to know that Remus Lupin is a werewolf. He is the defense against the dark arts teacher and a few nights ago he attacked me and my friends, chasing us into a pack of dementors, of which we barely escaped. Just a clue.

-Hermione

Werewolf at Hogwarts!

By Rita Skeeter.

If you have children at Hogwarts, do you know that they could be in danger? Headmaster Dumbledore, in his wisdom, has made Remus Lupin, werewolf, the Defense against the Dark Arts teacher for your children. He was bitten at age 5 by Fenrir Greyback, and continued on to attend Hogwarts. It is noted that he was best friends with mass murderer Sirius Black and might have had something to do with the break ins.

"He attacked no one!" Albus Dumbledore stressed, but he did.

A group of third year Gryffindor and Slytherins were chased by this werewolf, who was clearly bent on biting them. They barely managed to escape, but ran into a group of dementors. In an amazing show of magic, two of the students made corporeal patronuses to drive the dementors away.

I now leave it up to you. Should a werewolf be allowed to teach? Why did Dumbledore hire a werewolf? Is he getting in on his age? This is Rita Skeeter, concerned for your children.

"Remind me, how do you get her to do this?" Daphne laughed as she stared at the paper.

"All it took was a letter." Hermione said in a slightly smug voice.

The days went on. Though the weather was perfect, though the atmosphere was so cheerful, Hermione didn't want to go back to the Muggles. She preferred Malfoy Manor. The exam results came out on the last day of term. Hermione of course passed everything, and she now had a wonderful bag of runes to take home. Elan got top grade NEWTS. Flora and Hestia each achieved every OWL they wanted.

Meanwhile, largely thanks to the Gryffindors losing so many points, Slytherin finally regained the House Cup, though Gryffindor claimed the Quidditch Cup. This meant that the end of term feast took place amid decorations of green and silver, and that the Slytherin table was the noisiest of the lot, as everybody celebrated. They next day Hermione packed up, and got ready to sit on the train.

"We'll be back Crooks." Hermione cooed as she boarded the train. The train ride passed quickly and in high spirits. Their compartment was magically enlarged by Elan to fit the entire Quidditch team, him, Flora, Hestia, Hermione, and all her friends. Soon they reached the station, and Hermione got ready to go back to the Muggles; however, Draco took her hand and started dragging her to his parents.

"Draco, I have to go back home." she argued.

"No you don't!" he said with a cheerful grin. "You don't ever have to go back. Mum and Dad went there, took your belongings, and got their permission for you to spend the rest of the breaks with us!"

Hermione felt as though a weight had been lifted off her heart. She never had to go back. Ever.

"I think this summer is going to be amazing." she declared, and she set off with the Malfoys.

Chapter Text

Miss Granger,

You asked about animagus training. I did this as a student and achieved my form. I am a hawk. Now then, the first step is to hold a mandrake leaf under your tongue for a month and meditate for at least an hour a day. The key to an animagus is unlocking your inner animal, and you must be in touch with your core, hence the meditation. Once you have found your form learn everything about it, and when you come back to Hogwarts we will start.

-Professor Snape

Hermione had been ecstatic to hear this. She had immediately pulled mandrake leaf out of her potions kit and put it under her tongue with a sticking charm. After, she had started her meditation.

It was hard. Hermione had a very hard time clearing her mind and searching her soul. After two weeks of meditation, Hermione finally found her inner core. It was a library. Hermione had to laugh at that. Each book was a memory, and the shelves were organized based on years of her life. The bottom shelves were the least important, and the top shelves the most. Hermione started wandering, looking for any animals.

Finally, after what seemed like hours, she found a book on animagus. With trepidation, Hermione opened it. Inside was a picture of a Thunder Phoenix, with a deep blue body, sharp claws, and an affinity for lightning. Hermione had not expected this, but she liked it. Thunder phoenix tears were very rare, and had amazing healing powers; more so than fire phoenixes.

Dear Professor Snape,

I finished a month of meditation. I am a thunder phoenix, and the mandrake root is done. I will continue meditating and doing what you said.

-Hermione

The Quidditch World Cup was coming up.

"We're going to the cup!" Draco squealed, and Hermione had to hear about it for days.

Hermione had also been modelling more for Narcissa, and she was allowed to keep the clothes. Hermione got paid of course, and the account she had opened at Gringotts for herself had more than 200 galleons now. Hermione's pictures had become pretty popular too, and she was becoming one of the main models.

"How do you handle it?" Pansy asked her during a sleepover. "You want to be a Potions Mistress, and you model! You're becoming an animagus, you study healing, and you still find time to read!"

"Just time management." Hermione smiled at her friend.

Hermione pushed out of bed and pulled on some of the clothes Narcissa gave her- a white shirt, pants, and an amazing pair of deep green robes with black embroidery in the shape of phoenixes.

Noticing that Draco wasn't awake yet, Hermione marched into his room. Of course he was still sleeping. Hermione did her best not to notice the way his silvery hair shone, or the fact that his face was smooth and pale, his lips soft. Nope! Hermione wasn't thinking about that at all.

"WAKE UP!" she yelled, pulling the blanket off him. Oh, wait… he was wearing just boxers. Hermione immediately pulled the blanket back down, hoping he didn't notice, and proceeded to drench him with one of her water runes.

"What the hell Mione?" he spluttered, shaking the water out of his hair.

"The Quidditch world Cup." Hermione said, and he proceeded to run around the room like a hyperactive child. That boy and Quidditch.

Soon they were downstairs gripping a loose white handkerchief. It happened immediately: Hermione felt as though a hook just behind her navel had been suddenly jerked irresistibly forward. Her feet left the ground; she could feel Draco and Narcissa on either side of her, their shoulders banging into her's; they were all speeding forward in a howl of wind and swirling color; her forefinger was stuck to the handkerchief as though it was pulling her magnetically onward and then -

She landed with a thump on grassy land, barely saving herself from falling, and needing steadying from Draco.

"Will anyone else come?" Hermione asked.

"Not any of our friends." he said. "But Marcus will probably be here."

Hermione just giggled. Obviously he would be here, he was a Quidditch fanatic.

"Won't we have to pay?" Hermione asked curiously.

"I payed in advance." replied Mr Malfoy. "We're already in the camp, just on the outskirts. Soon we will reach our tent. He was right. Soon they had reached the main camp.

They trudged up the misty field between long rows of tents. Most looked almost ordinary; their owners had clearly tried to make them as Muggle-like as possible, but had slipped up by adding chimneys, or bellpulls, or weather vanes. However, here and there was a tent so obviously magical that Hermione wondered on the sanity of wizards. Halfway up the field stood an extravagant confection of striped silk like a miniature palace, with several live peacocks tethered at the entrance. A little farther on they passed a tent that had three floors and several turrets; and a short way beyond that was a tent that had a front garden attached, complete with birdbath, sundial, and fountain.

Soon they reached a cream colored tent that looked like it would fit 10 if Hermione was camping. She followed them in, and looked around. The inside was a three room flat with 2 bathrooms, a kitchen, and a living room.

"Choose a room!" Mr Malfoy said in a genial voice, and Hermione immediately started racing with Draco to the dark green room. The other was light pink. Hermione reached there first, and immediately placed her bag down.

"No fair!" Draco pouted, giving her large puppy eyes.

"Nope!" Hermione laughed. "Take the pink room."

"Oppression!" he wailed dramatically. Hermione just shoved him out of the room.

A few hours later, after Hermione had been meditating, Mrs Malfoy called them down. Hermione pulled on a fancy red dress with Black trim(Bulgarian colors) and went down, her eyeshadow a little fancier than usual(darker red with Black on the sides) She was wearing clothes for Narcissa's fashion line again, and it would be the Bulgarian side of the line.

While Hermione was meditating, Mr Malfoy had gone out and bought them Omniculars and some Bulgarian gear. Hermione now wore a red rubberband with a giant black circle protruding from it, on which Viktor Krum's face was emblazoned. He was the Bulgarian Seeker.

They walked, until at last they emerged on the other side and found themselves in the shadow of a gigantic stadium. Though Hermione could see only a fraction of the immense gold walls surrounding the field, she could tell that ten cathedrals would fit comfortably inside it. It was mammoth.

"Seats a hundred thousand." Mr Malfoy described. "A Ministry Task Force of 500 have been working on it for a year."

"Ministry Box!" yelled the witch who was checking tickets. "Up you go!"

The stairs into the stadium were carpeted in rich purple. They clambered upward with the rest of the crowd, which slowly filtered away through doors into the stands to their left and right. Hermione found herself in a box holding some of the most famous people in the Wizarding World.

"Ah Lucius!" exclaimed Minister Fudge, bringing with him two men. "And this must be your son Draco, and Narcissa, of course, always a pleasure, and … who is this?"

"Hermione Granger sir." she said with a small curtsey.

"Muggleborn?" he asked speculatively.

"Slytherin's first." she smiled proudly. He seemed to like her, for he smiled before starting introductions.

"This is Ivan Oblansk, the Bulgarian Minister for Magic. His son is friends with the Bulgarian Seeker Krum." The man looked to be a well built heavy set man with a giant mustache that Hermione thought was perfect for twirling and heavy eyebrows.

"And this is Aylannah Eavan. She is the Irish Minister for Magic." She was slight and lean, with short, shiny blonde hair and large blue eyes.

"Let us all sit down!" exclaimed Lucius, and they took their seats.

Hermione looked down from her box and saw a scene she never could have envisioned.A hundred thousand witches and wizards were taking their places in the seats, which rose in levels around the long oval field. Everything was suffused with a mysterious golden light, which seemed to come from the stadium itself. The field looked smooth as velvet from their lofty position. At either end of the field stood three goal hoops, fifty feet high; right opposite them, almost at Hermione's eye level, was a gigantic blackboard. Gold writing kept dashing across it as though an invisible giant's hand were scrawling upon the blackboard and then wiping it off again; watching it, Hermione saw that it was flashing advertisements across the field.

The Bluebottle: A Broom for All the Family - safe, reliable, and with Built-in Anti-Burgler Buzzer...Mrs. Shower's All Purpose Magical Mess Remover: No Pain, No Stain!...Gladrags Wizardwear - London, Paris, Hogsmeade...

"Wow." Hermione breathed, and looking to her left Draco looked the same. At that point the Weasleys arrived, Potter with them. Hermione just sniffed and moved away from them. She giggled as she saw one of the Weasleys, Perry, she believed, bow so low to the Minister his glasses fell off. Idiot.

Then she saw him greet Potter like an old friend and she knew that once again, they were pushed away for him. Thankfully the Minister was a Slytherin and knew what life was like.

Harry Potter, you know," he told the Bulgarian minister loudly, who was wearing splendid robes of black velvet trimmed with gold and didn't seem to understand a word of English. "Harry Potter...oh come on now, you know who he is...the boy who survived You-Know-Who...you do know who he is -"

The Bulgarian wizard suddenly spotted Harry's scar and started gabbling loudly and excitedly, pointing at it.

Hermione laughed, and winked at the man. From her small study of languages, she knew that the Bulgarian Minister was speaking nonsense, and that he understood and spoke English perfectly. The man winked back at her.

"What was that?'' Draco asked.

"The Bulgarian Minister speaks and understands English, he's just having the Minister on." she whispered, and Draco burst into guffaws. A few moments later, Ludo Bagman charged into the box. He was a large man with a shiny pink face. He wore yellow and black robes that bulged out quite a bit on his midsection, and his nose was crooked.

"Everyone ready?" he said, his round face gleaming like a great, excited Edam. "Minister - ready to go?"

"Ready when you are, Ludo," said Fudge comfortably.

Ludo whipped out his wand, directed it at his own throat, and said "Sonorus!" and then spoke over the roar of sound that was now filling the packed stadium; his voice echoed over them, booming into every corner of the stands.

"Ladies and gentlemen...welcome! Welcome to the final of the four hundred and twenty-second Quidditch World Cup!"

The spectators screamed and clapped. Thousands of flags waved, adding their discordant national anthems to the racket. The huge blackboard opposite them was wiped clear of its last message (Bertie Bott's Every Flavor Beans - A Risk With Every Mouthful!) and now showed BULGARIA: 0, IRELAND: 0.

"And now, without further ado, allow me to introduce...the Bulgarian National Team Mascots!"

The right-hand side of the stands, which was a solid block of scarlet, roared its approval.

"Hmm," said Mr Malfoy, leaning forward, "Ah Veela!"

Hermione had read about Veela. They were gorgeous girls with amazing figures who had an allure that attracted all boys without mind protection. When mad, however, they turned into eagle like creatures that could throw fireballs. Veelas were weakest in water, and had a slight protection against fire.

A hundred veela walked out onto the field, and Hermione noticed Draco lean forward. She exchanged a small smirk with Narcissa. Boys. So predictable. They started dancing and Hermione realized just how beautiful they were. After a while, they stopped. Angry yells were filling the stadium. The crowd didn't want the veela to go.

"And now," roared Ludo Bagman's voice, "kindly put your wands in the air...for the Irish National Team Mascots!"

Next moment, what seemed to be a great green-and-gold comet came zooming into the stadium. It did one circuit of the stadium, then split into two smaller comets, each hurtling toward the goal posts. A rainbow arced suddenly across the field, connecting the two balls of light. The crowd oooohed and aaaaahed, as though at a fireworks display. Now the rainbow faded and the balls of light reunited and merged; they had formed a great shimmering shamrock, which rose up into the sky and began to soar over the stands. Something like golden rain seemed to be falling from it -

"Excellent!" yelled Draco as the shamrock soared over them, and heavy gold coins rained from it, bouncing off their heads and seats. Squinting up at the shamrock, Hermione realized that it was actually comprised of thousands of tiny little bearded men with red vests, each carrying a minute lamp of gold or green.

"Leprechauns!" said Mr. Malfoy over the tumultuous applause of the crowd, many of whom were still fighting and rummaging around under their chairs to retrieve the gold.

That meant that this was leprechaun gold. It would disappear in a few hours.

The great shamrock dissolved, the leprechauns drifted down onto the field on the opposite side from the veela, and settled themselves cross-legged to watch the match.

"And now, ladies and gentlemen, kindly welcome - the Bulgarian National Quidditch Team! I give you - Dimitrov!"

A scarlet-clad figure on a broomstick, moving so fast it was blurred, shot out onto the field from an entrance far below, to wild applause from the Bulgarian supporters.

"Ivanova!"

A second scarlet-robed player zoomed out.

"Zograf! Levski! Vulchanov! Volkov! Aaaaaaand - Krum!"

Hermione focused her omnioculars on Krum. Viktor Krum was thin, with dark hair, and pale skin. He had a large curved nose and thick Black eyebrows. Hermione thought he was rather handsome. It was hard to believe he was only eighteen.

"And now, please greet - the Irish National Quidditch Team!" yelled Bagman. "Presenting - Connolly! Ryan! Troy! Mullet! Moran! Quigley! Aaaaaand - Lynch!"

Seven green blurs swept onto the field; Hermione noticed that they were all flying Firebolts, as was the entire Bulgarian team.

"And here, all the way from Egypt, our referee, acclaimed Chairwizard of the International Association of Quidditch, Hassan Mostafa!"

A small and skinny wizard, completely bald but with a mustache to rival Minister Oblanks', wearing robes of pure gold to match the stadium, strode out onto the field. A silver whistle was protruding from under the mustache, and he was carrying a large wooden crate under one arm, his broomstick under the other. Hermione watched closely as Mostafa mounted his broomstick and kicked the crate open - four balls burst into the air: the scarlet Quaffle, the two black Bludgers, and (Hermione saw it for the briefest moment, before it sped out of sight) the minuscule, winged Golden Snitch. With a sharp blast on his whistle, Mostafa shot into the air after the balls.

"Theeeeeeeey're OFF!" screamed Bagman. "And it's Mullet! Troy! Moran! Dimitrov! Back to Mullet! Troy! Levski! Moran!"

It was Quidditch as Hermione had never seen it played before. She pressed her omnioculars to her nose. The speed of the players was incredible - the Chasers were throwing the Quaffle to one another so fast that Bagman only had time to say their names.

Hermione barely saw what was happening, but suddenly Bagman burst out, "TROY SCORES!" and the stadium burst into applause. "TEN - ZERO IRELAND!"

Glancing at the mascots, Hermione saw that the leprechauns watching from the sidelines had all risen into the air again and formed the great, glittering shamrock. Across the field, the veela were watching them sulkily.

Hermione knew enough about Quidditch to see that the Irish Chasers were superb; they were models for the Slytherin Quidditch Team. They worked as a seamless team, their movements so well coordinated that they appeared to be reading one another's minds as they positioned themselves, and within ten minutes, Ireland had scored twice more, bringing their lead to thirty-zero and causing a thunderous tide of roars and applause from the green-clad supporters.

The match became still faster, but more brutal. Volkov and Vulchanov, the Bulgarian Beaters, were whacking the Bludgers as fiercely as possible at the Irish Chasers, and were starting to prevent them from using some of their best moves; twice they were forced to scatter, and then, finally, Ivanova managed to break through their ranks; dodge the Keeper, Ryan; and score Bulgaria's first goal.

"Dimitrov! Levski! Dimitrov! Ivanova - oh I say!" roared Bagman.

One hundred thousand wizards gasped as the two Seekers, Krum and Lynch, plummeted through the center of the Chasers, so fast that it looked as though they had just jumped from airplanes without parachutes.

"They're going to crash!" she screamed. Hermione was half-right; at the very last second, Viktor Krum pulled out of the dive and spiraled off. Lynch, however, hit the ground with a dull thud that could be heard throughout the stadium. A huge groan rose from the Irish seats.

"YES!" Draco bellowed, doing a tiny victory dance. Hermione laughed and waved her Bulgarian Flag. This was WAY better than the school games.

"That was called the Wronski Feint." Mr Malfoy told them.

Hermione focused her omnioculars on Krum. He was now circling high above Lynch, who was being revived by mediwizards with cups of potion.

Lynch got to his feet at last, to loud cheers from the green-clad supporters, mounted his Firebolt, and kicked back off into the air. His revival seemed to give Ireland new heart. When Mostafa blew his whistle again, the Chasers moved into action with a skill unrivaled by anything Hermione had seen so far.

After fifteen more fast and furious minutes, Ireland had pulled ahead by ten more goals. They were now leading by one hundred and thirty points to ten, and the game was starting to get dirtier.

As Mullet shot toward the goal posts yet again, clutching the Quaffle tightly under her arm, the Bulgarian Keeper, Zograf, flew out to meet her. Whatever happened was over so quickly Hermione didn't catch it, but a scream of rage from the Irish crowd, and Mostafa's long, shrill whistle blast, told her it had been a foul.

"THAT WASN'T A FOUL!" Draco bellowed angrily.

"And Mostafa takes the Bulgarian Keeper to task for cobbing - excessive use of elbows!" Bagman informed the roaring spectators. "And - yes, it's a penalty to Ireland!"

The leprechauns, who had risen angrily into the air like a swarm of glittering hornets when Mullet had been fouled, now darted together to form the words "HA, HA, HA!"

The veela on the other side of the field leapt to their feet, tossed their hair angrily, and started to dance again.

"Look at the referee!" Hermione giggled, tugging on Draco's arm.

Hassan Mostafa had landed right in front of the dancing veela, and was acting very oddly indeed. He was flexing his muscles and smoothing his mustache excitedly.

"Now, we can't have that!" said Ludo Bagman, though he sounded highly amused. "Somebody slap the referee!"

A mediwizard came tearing across the field, his fingers stuffed into his own ears, and kicked Mostafa hard in the shins. Mostafa seemed to come to himself; Hermione, watching through the Omnioculars again, saw that he looked exceptionally embarrassed and had started shouting at the veela, who had stopped dancing and were looking mutinous.

"Idiot." said Mrs Malfoy derisively. "You don't yell at Veela."

"And unless I'm much mistaken, Mostafa is actually attempting to send off the Bulgarian team mascots!" said Bagman's voice. "Now there's something we haven't seen before...Oh this could turn nasty...

It did: The Bulgarian Beaters, Volkov and Vulchanov, landed on either side of Mostafa and began arguing furiously with him, gesticulating toward the leprechauns, who had now gleefully formed the words "HEE, HEE, HEE." Mostafa was not impressed by the Bulgarians' arguments, however; he was jabbing his finger into the air, clearly telling them to get flying again, and when they refused, he gave two short blasts on his whistle.

"Two penalties for Ireland!" shouted Bagman, and the Bulgarian crowd howled with anger. "And Volkov and Vulchanov had better get back on those brooms...yes...there they go...and Troy takes the Quaffle..."

"That's illegal!" Draco yelled in fury, and Hermione pushed him back into his seat.

Play now reached a level of ferocity beyond anything they had yet seen. The Beaters on both sides were acting without mercy: Volkov and Vulchanov in particular seemed not to care whether their clubs made contact with Bludger or human as they swung them violently through the air. Dimitrov shot straight at Moran, who had the Quaffle, nearly knocking her off her broom.

"Foul!" roared the Irish supporters as one, all standing up in a great wave of green.

"Foul!" echoed Ludo Bagman's magically magnified voice. "Dimitrov skins Moran - deliberately flying to collide there - and it's got to be another penalty - yes, there's the whistle!"

The leprechauns had risen into the air again, and this time, they formed a giant hand, which was making a giant middle finger at the Veela. At this, the veela lost control. Instead of dancing, they launched themselves across the field and began throwing what seemed to be handfuls of fire at the leprechauns. Watching through his Omnioculars, Hermione saw that they didn't look remotely beautiful now. On the contrary, their faces were elongating into sharp, cruel-beaked bird heads, and long, scaly wings were bursting from their shoulders -

"Awesome!" Draco gushed, and Hermione laughed.

Ministry wizards were flooding onto the field to separate the veela and the leprechauns, but with little success; meanwhile, the pitched battle below was nothing to the one taking place above. Hermione turned this way and that, staring through her Omnioculars, as the Quaffle changed hands with the speed of a bullet.

"Levski - Dimitrov - Moran - Troy - Mullet - Ivanova - Moran again - Moran - MORAN SCORES!"

But the cheers of the Irish supporters were barely heard over the shrieks of the veela, the blasts now issuing from the Ministry members' wands, and the furious roars of the Bulgarians. The game recommenced immediately; now Levski had the Quaffle, now Dimitrov -

The Irish Beater Quigley swung heavily at a passing Bludger, and hit it as hard as possible toward Krum, who did not duck quickly enough. It hit him full in the face.

There was a deafening groan from the crowd; Krum's nose looked broken, there was blood everywhere, but Hassan Mostafa didn't blow his whistle. He had become distracted, and Harry couldn't blame him; one of the veela had thrown a handful of fire and set his broom tail alight.

"Someone has to notice he's injured!" said Hermione worriedly.

"Look at Lynch!" Draco yelled.

For the Irish Seeker had suddenly gone into a dive, and Hermione was quite sure that this was no Wronski Feint; this was the real thing...

"He's seen the Snitch!" Draco shouted. "He's seen it! Look at him go!"

Half the crowd seemed to have realized what was happening; the Irish supporters rose in another great wave of green, screaming their Seeker on...but Krum was on his tail. How he could see where he was going, Hermione had no idea; there were flecks of blood flying through the air behind him, but he was drawing level with Lynch now as the pair of them hurtled toward the ground again -

"They're going to crash!" shrieked Hermione.

"They're not!" roared Draco.

"Lynch is!" yelled Hermione.

And she was right - for the second time, Lynch hit the ground with tremendous force and was immediately stampeded by a horde of angry veela.

"The Snitch, where's the Snitch?" bellowed Draco.

"He's got it - Krum's got it - it's all over!" shouted Mr Malfoy.

Krum, his red robes shining with blood from his nose, was rising gently into the air, his fist held high, a glint of gold in his hand.

The scoreboard was flashing BULGARIA: 160, IRELAND: 170 across the crowd, who didn't seem to have realized what had happened. Then, slowly, as though a great jumbo jet were revving up, the rumbling from the Ireland supporters grew louder and louder and erupted into screams of delight.

"IRELAND WINS!" Bagman shouted, who like the Irish, seemed to be taken aback by the sudden end of the match.

"KRUM GETS THE SNITCH - BUT IRELAND WINS - good lord, I don't think any of us were expecting that!"

"What did he catch the Snitch for?" Draco bellowed.

"He knew they were never going to catch up!" Hermione shouted back over all the noise, also applauding loudly. "The Irish Chasers were too good...He wanted to end it on his terms, that's all...

"I'm glad to see good sportsmanship." said Mr Malfoy approvingly.

"I don't care who won!" Hermione scoffed. "That was the best thing I've ever seen!"

"Vell, ve fought bravely," said a gloomy voice behind her. She looked around; it was the Bulgarian Minister of Magic.

"You can speak English!" said Fudge, sounding outraged. "And you've been letting me mime everything all day!"

"Veil, it vos very funny," said the Bulgarian minister, shrugging.

"And as the Irish team performs a lap of honor, flanked by their mascots, the Quidditch World Cup itself is brought into the Top Box!" roared Bagman.

"Let's have a really loud hand for the gallant losers - Bulgaria!" Bagman shouted.

And up the stairs into the box came the seven defeated Bulgarian players. One by one, the Bulgarians filed between the rows of seats in the box, and Bagman called out the name of each as they shook hands with their own minister and then with Fudge. Krum, who was last in line, looked a real mess. Two black eyes were blooming spectacularly on his bloody face. He was still holding the Snitch.

Draco stared at him in awe as he passed. And then came the Irish team. Aidan Lynch was being supported by Moran and Connolly; the second crash seemed to have dazed him and his eyes looked strangely unfocused. But he grinned happily as Troy and Quigley lifted the Cup into the air and the crowd below thundered its approval.

Hermione saw the pure happiness on his face, and knew this- this was amazing. They slowly walked back to the tent, Draco excitedly going over the game.

"Will we be staying the night?" Hermione asked.

"No we won't." he muttered, before clearing his throat and speaking louder. "I have arranged a Portkey back home."

"Aaw, come on!" Draco pouted, but with a small glare from his father he took hold of the mangy coat and they Portkeyed home.

That night, Hermione washed her face and lay the dress out, so tired that she just dropped asleep.

Chapter Text

The next day at Breakfast Hermione looked at the newspaper, and the picture of the Dark Mark on it. Mr Malfoy and Mrs Malfoy were looking at her worriedly, and Draco was pale.

Hermione spoke up. "Mr Malfoy, Mrs Malfoy, I will stay be you. If he returns," she was talking about the Dark Lord, "I will join him. You're my family."

Mrs Malfoy looked at Hermione with a large smile before hugging her. "Thank you Hermione." she said, and that was the end of the matter.

A few days later Hermione received a letter from a Great Black Owl, and the family stared at it.

"That's Severus's owl." Mr Malfoy muttered. Hermione shook it off and opened the letter.

NEWTS

Potions… … … … … . … . . . . O

Hermione froze, staring at the paper with bug eyes. After a minute, Draco got worried and got up to see what the letter was. When he saw it, he too froze, staring at it with bug eyes, before recovering.

"Hermione?" Mrs Malfoy asked in concern. Hermione shook herself out of her stupor. NEWTS!

"I - I -O- NEWTS - Potions." she stuttered.

"Hermione took her Potions NEWTS last year and got an O!" Draco exclaimed.

"Congratulations." smiled Mr Malfoy genuinely. Hermione couldn't believe it.

A few weeks later it was time to go to Hogwarts, and Hermione passed the barrier from Platform 9 & ¾. She looked at the Hogwarts Express and grinned as she saw Pansy waving to her.

"Hey Pans!" she waved, and she was pulled onto the express into their usual compartment.

"How was the game?" she asked, and Hermione grinned.

"Amazing!" she gushed. "The players move so fast and Krum was really good at tricking Lynch into performing the Wronski feint and …"

It went on for ten minutes before their other friends entered the compartment. The rain became heavier and heavier as the train moved farther north. The sky was so dark and the windows so steamy that the lanterns were lit by midday. The lunch trolley came rattling along the corridor, and Hermione bought a large stack of cauldron cakes for them to share.

"Want to go annoy Weasel and Potter?" Draco asked eagerly. Hermione looked around, noticing that Pansy, Blaise, Daphne, and Theo were all asleep.

"Sure." she shrugged. They walked to his compartment, and heard him say, ""We saw him right up close, as well. We were in the Top Box -"

"For the first and last time in your life, Weasley." Draco cut in. Hermione looked around the compartment and noticed that Dean Thomas, Seamus Finnegan, and Ginny Weasley were also sitting in the compartment.

"Don't remember asking you to join us, Malfoy," said Potter coolly.

"Really?" Hermione mocked. "I could have sworn you gave me a beautiful invitation, edged in golden lace."

"Weasley...what is that?" said Draco, pointing at a cage holding a tiny fur ball. A moldy lace cuff was attached to a sleeve that was hanging from Weasley's trunk.

Weasley made to stuff the robes out of sight, but Draco was too quick for him; he seized the sleeve and pulled.

"Look at this!" said Draco in ecstasy, holding up Ron's robes and showing Crabbe and Goyle, "Weasley, you weren't thinking of wearing these, were you? I mean - they were very fashionable in about eighteen ninety..."

"Mrs Malfoy showed me a pair like those." Hermione said. "They're meant for girls. Are you sure they aren't the Weaselette's?"

Ginny Weasley's face turned red.

"Eat dung, Malfoy!" said Weasley, the same color as the dress robes as he snatched them back out of Draco's grip. Hermione and Draco howled with derisive laughter, and Vince and Greg guffawed.

When they reached Hogwarts, it was raining heavily. "Warming and Drying Charms!" she yelled like always. The rain was now coming down so thick and fast that it was as though buckets of ice-cold water were being emptied repeatedly over their heads.

"Stupid rain!" Daphne grumbled. Hermione noticed that she had on extra fancy eyeshadow and lipstick for the feast like always. Pansy had added some silver to her Black, Daphne was now wearing eyeliner and darker lipstick, and Hermione had just darkened her lip gloss a little. They bundled into the castle

"I wouldn't fancy crossing the lake in this weather." Pansy said fervently. Through the gates, flanked with statues of winged boars, and up the sweeping drive the carriages trundled, swaying dangerously in what was fast becoming a gale. Into the hall they hurried, just in time to see Peeves bombard Weasel with water balloons.

"PEEVES!" yelled an angry voice. "Peeves, come down here at ONCE!"

Professor McGonagall had come bounding in in anger, nearly slipping and falling on the water.

"Peeves, get down here NOW!" barked Professor McGonagall, straightening her pointed hat and glaring upward through her square-rimmed spectacles.

"Not doing nothing!" cackled Peeves, lobbing a water bomb at several fifth-year girls, who screamed and dived into the Great Hall. "Already wet, aren't they? Little squirts! Wheeeeeeeeee!" And he aimed another bomb at a group of second years who had just arrived.

"I shall call the headmaster!" shouted Professor McGonagall. "I'm warning you, Peeves -"

Peeves stuck out his tongue, threw the last of his water bombs into the air, and zoomed off up the marble staircase, cackling insanely.

"Well, move along, then!" said Professor McGonagall sharply to the bedraggled crowd. "Into the Great Hall, come on!"

The Great Hall looked its usual splendid self, decorated for the start-of-term feast. Golden plates and goblets gleamed by the light of hundreds and hundreds of candles, floating over the tables in midair. The four long House tables were packed with chattering students; at the top of the Hall, the staff sat along one side of a fifth table, facing their pupils. It was much warmer in here.

"How's Elan?" Hermione asked Pansy as she sat down.

"Wonderful." she smirked. "He got the position of Junior Undersecretary, but he has to deal with Weasley," Pansy made a sour face, "As his assistant. Fortunately, Weasley also has to obey my brother, who takes great pleasure in driving him mad.

"Where's the DADA teacher?" Blaise wondered. They had never yet had a Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher who had lasted more than three terms. Hermione scanned the table carefully. Tiny little Professor Flitwick, the Charms teacher, was sitting on a large pile of cushions beside Professor Sprout, the Herbology teacher, whose hat was askew over her flyaway gray hair. She was talking to Professor Sinistra of the Astronomy department. On Professor Sinistra's other side was Professor Snape. On his other side was an empty seat for McGonagall.

Next to it, and in the very center of the table, sat Professor Dumbledore, the headmaster, his sweeping silver hair and beard shining in the candlelight, his magnificent deep green robes embroidered with many stars and moons. The tips of Dumbledore's long, thin fingers were together and he was resting his chin upon them, staring up at the ceiling through his half-moon spectacles as though lost in thought. Hermione thought the man was a loon, and hated him. She glanced up at the ceiling. It was enchanted to look like the sky outside, and she had never seen it look this stormy. Black and purple clouds were swirling across it, and as another thunderclap sounded outside, a fork of lightning flashed across it.

"Hurry up. I'm hungry." moaned Crabbe and Hermione punched him lightly as a signal to shut up.

The words were no sooner out of his mouth than the doors of the Great Hall opened and silence fell. Professor McGonagall was leading a long line of first years up to the top of the Hall. If the students were wet, it was nothing to how these first years looked. They appeared to have swum across the lake rather than sailed. All of them were shivering with a combination of cold and nerves as they filed along the staff table and came to a halt in a line facing the rest of the school - all of them except the smallest of the lot, a boy with mousy hair, who was wrapped in what Hermione recognized as Hagrid's moleskin overcoat. The coat was so big for him that it looked as though he were draped in a furry black circus tent. His small face protruded from over the collar, looking almost painfully excited.

"Gryffindork." Theo murmered pointing at the boy.

Professor McGonagall now placed a three-legged stool on the ground before the first years and, on top of it, an extremely old, dirty patched wizard's hat. The first years stared at it. So did everyone else. For a moment, there was silence. Then a long tear near the brim opened wide like a mouth, and the hat broke into song:

A thousand years or more ago,

When I was newly sewn,There lived four wizards of renown,

Whose names are still well known:

Bold Gryffindor, from wild moor,

Fair Ravenclaw, from glen,

Sweet Hufflepuff, from valley broad,

Shrewd Slytherin, from fin.

They shared a wish, a hope, a dream,

They hatched a daring plan

To educate young sorcerers

Thus Hogwarts School began.

Now each of these four founders

Formed their own house, for each

Did value different virtues

In the ones they had to teach.

By Gryffindor, the bravest were

Prized far beyond the rest;

For Ravenclaw, the cleverest

Would always be the best;

For Hufflepuff, hard workers were

Most worthy of admission;

And power-hungry Slytherin

Loved those of great ambition.

While still alive they did divide

Their favorites from the throng,

Yet how to pick the worthy ones

When they were dead and gone?

Twas Gryffindor who found the way,

He whipped me off his head

The founders put some brains in me

So I could choose instead!

Now slip me snug about your ears,

I've never yet been wrong,

I'll have a look inside your mind

And tell where you belong!

"This year's song is pretty good." Blaise said as they clapped.

Professor McGonagall was now unrolling a large scroll of parchment.

"When I call out your name, you will put on the hat and sit on the stool," she told the first years. "When the hat announces your House, you will go and sit at the appropriate table."

"Ackerley, Stewart!"

A boy walked forward, visibly trembling from head to foot, picked up the Sorting Hat, put it on, and sat down on the stool.

"RAVENCLAW!" shouted the hat.

"Baddock, Malcolm!"

"SLYTHERIN!"

Hermione grinned as he came to sit with the other firsties. Malcolm Baddock had a big brother in the house named Logan Baddock, a 6th year prefect.

"Branstone, Eleanor!"

"HUFFLEPUFF!"

"Cauldwell, Owen!"

"HUFFLEPUFF!"

"Creevey, Dennis!"

Tiny Dennis Creevey staggered forward, tripping over Hagrid's moleskin, just as Hagrid himself sidled into the Hall through a door behind the teachers' table. About twice as tall as a normal man, and at least three times as broad, Hagrid, with his long, wild, tangled black hair and beard, looked slightly alarming - a misleading impression, for he was an idiot.

"Knew he'd be a Gryffindor." Theo muttered.

"GRYFFINDOR!" the hat shouted.

The hat was now sorting Emma Dobbs, who ended up a Ravenclaw. Tracy Davis's little sister Lynn joined them.

The Sorting continued; boys and girls with varying degrees of fright on their faces moving one by one to the three-legged stool, the line dwindling slowly as Professor McGonagall passed the L's.

"Oh hurry up," Goyle moaned, massaging his stomach.

"Not everything's about food!" Hermione glared. "You could be Weasley with that stomach."

Laura Madley became a Hufflepuff. Natalie McDonald joined the Gryffindors.

"Pritchard, Graham!"

"SLYTHERIN!"

"Quirke, Orla!"

"RAVENCLAW!"

And finally, with "Whitby, Kevin!" ("HUFFLEPUFF!"), the Sorting ended. Professor McGonagall picked up the hat and the stool and carried them away.

"Finally!" said Crabbe, getting ready for food. Dumbledore rose. He was smiling around at the students, his arms opened wide in welcome.

"I have only two words to say to you," he told them, his deep voice echoing around the Hall. "Tuck in."

Hermione dug into her meal, laughing with Daphne as they watched Pansy berate the boys and push vegetables onto their plates. She was a complete mother hen.

When the puddings too had been demolished, and the last crumbs had faded off the plates, leaving them sparkling clean, Albus Dumbledore got to his feet again. The buzz of chatter filling the Hall ceased almost at once, so that only the howling wind and pounding rain could be heard.

"So!" said Dumbledore, smiling around at them all. "Now that we are all fed and watered," ("Hmph!" said Hermione) "I must once more ask for your attention, while I give out a few notices.

"Mr. Filch, the caretaker, has asked me to tell you that the list of objects forbidden inside the castle has this year been extended to include Screaming Yo-yos, Fanged Frisbees, and Ever-Bashing Boomerangs. The full list comprises some four hundred and thirty-seven items, I believe, and can be viewed in Mr. Filch's office, if anybody would like to check it."

The corners of Dumbledore's mouth twitched. He continued, "As ever, I would like to remind you all that the forest on the grounds is out-of-bounds to students, as is the village of Hogsmeade to all below third year.

"It is also my painful duty to inform you that the Inter-House Quidditch Cup will not take place this year."

"What!" Draco gasped, looking aghast at the idea.

Dumbledore went on, "This is due to an event that will be starting in October, and continuing throughout the school year, taking up much of the teachers' time and energy - but I am sure you will all enjoy it immensely. I have great pleasure in announcing that this year at Hogwarts -"

But at that moment, there was a deafening rumble of thunder and the doors of the Great Hall banged open.

A man stood in the doorway, leaning upon a long staff, shrouded in a black traveling cloak. Every head in the Great Hall swiveled toward the stranger, suddenly brightly illuminated by a fork of lightning that flashed across the ceiling. He lowered his hood, shook out a long mane of grizzled, dark gray hair, then began to walk up toward the teachers' table.

A dull clunk echoed through the Hall on his every other step. He reached the end of the top table, turned right, and limped heavily toward Dumbledore. Another flash of lightning crossed the ceiling. Hermione gasped.

The lightning had thrown the man's face into sharp relief, and it was a face unlike any Hermione had ever looked as though it had been carved out of weathered wood by someone who had only the vaguest idea of what human faces are supposed to look like, and was none too skilled with a chisel. Every inch of skin seemed to be scarred. The mouth looked like a diagonal gash, and a large chunk of the nose was missing. But it was the man's eyes that made him frightening.

One of them was small, dark, and beady. The other was large, round as a coin, and a vivid, electric blue. The blue eye was moving ceaselessly, without blinking, and was rolling up, down, and from side to side, quite independently of the normal eye - and then it rolled right over, pointing into the back of the man's head, so that all they could see was whiteness.

The stranger reached Dumbledore. He stretched out a hand that was as badly scarred as his face, and Dumbledore shook it, muttering words she couldn't hear. He seemed to be making some inquiry of the stranger, who shook his head unsmilingly and replied in an undertone. Dumbledore nodded and gestured the man to the empty seat on his right-hand side.

The stranger sat down, shook his mane of dark gray hair out of his face, pulled a plate of sausages toward him, raised it to what was left of his nose, and sniffed it. He then took a small knife out of his pocket, speared a sausage on the end of it, and began to eat. His normal eye was fixed upon the sausages, but the blue eye was still darting restlessly around in its socket, taking in the Hall and the students.

"May I introduce our new Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher?" said Dumbledore brightly into the silence. "Professor Moody."

It was usual for new staff members to be greeted with applause, but none of the staff or students chapped except Dumbledore and Hagrid, who both put their hands together and applauded, but the sound echoed dismally into the silence, and they stopped fairly quickly. Everyone else seemed too transfixed by Moody's bizarre appearance to do more than stare at him.

Moody seemed totally indifferent to his less-than-warm welcome. Ignoring the jug of pumpkin juice in front of him, he reached again into his traveling cloak, pulled out a hip flask, and took a long draught from it. As he lifted his arm to drink, his cloak was pulled a few inches from the ground, and Hermione saw, below the table, several inches of carved wooden leg, ending in a clawed foot.

Dumbledore cleared his throat.

"As I was saying," he said, smiling at the sea of students before him, all of whom were still gazing transfixed at Mad-Eye Moody, "we are to have the honor of hosting a very exciting event over the coming months, an event that has not been held for over a century. It is my very great pleasure to inform you that the Triwizard Tournament will be taking place at Hogwarts this year."

"You're JOKING!" said Fred Weasley loudly.

The tension that had filled the Hall ever since Moody's arrival suddenly broke. Nearly everyone laughed, and Dumbledore chuckled appreciatively.

"I am not joking, Mr. Weasley," he said, "though now that you mention it, I did hear an excellent one over the summer about a troll, a hag, and a leprechaun who all go into a bar."

Professor McGonagall cleared her throat loudly.

"Er - but maybe this is not the time...no..." said Dumbledore, "where was I? Ah yes, the Triwizard Tournament...well, some of you will not know what this tournament involves, so I hope those who do know will forgive me for giving a short explanation, and allow their attention to wander freely.

"The Triwizard Tournament was first established some seven hundred years ago as a friendly competition between the three largest European schools of wizardry: Hogwarts, Beauxbatons, and Durmstrang. A champion was selected to represent each school, and the three champions competed in three magical tasks. The schools took it in turns to host the tournament once every five years, and it was generally agreed to be a most excellent way of establishing ties between young witches and wizards of different nationalities - until, that is, the death toll mounted so high that the tournament was discontinued."

"Death toll?" Hermione whispered, looking alarmed. But her anxiety did not seem to be shared by the majority of students in the Hall; many of them were whispering excitedly to one another, and Draco was smirking appreciatively.

"There have been several attempts over the centuries to reinstate the tournament," Dumbledore continued, "none of which has been very successful. However, our own departments of International Magical Cooperation and Magical Games and Sports have decided the time is ripe for another attempt. We have worked hard over the summer to ensure that this time, no champion will find himself or herself in mortal danger.

"The heads of Beauxbatons and Durmstrang will be arriving with their short-listed contenders in October, and the selection of the three champions will take place at Halloween. An impartial judge will decide which students are most worthy to compete for the Triwizard Cup, the glory of their school, and a thousand Galleons personal prize money."

"The Goblet of Fire." Hermione murmured, already knowing the answer from her reading.

"Eager though I know all of you will be to bring the Triwizard Cup to Hogwarts," he said, "the heads of the participating schools, along with the Ministry of Magic, have agreed to impose an age restriction on contenders this year. Only students who are of age - that is to say, seventeen years or older - will be allowed to put forward their names for consideration. This -" Dumbledore raised his voice slightly, for several people had made noises of outrage at these words, and the Carrow twins were suddenly looking furious - "is a measure we feel is necessary, given that the tournament tasks will still be difficult and dangerous, whatever precautions we take, and it is highly unlikely that students below sixth and seventh year will be able to cope with them. I will personally be ensuring that no underage student hoodwinks our impartial judge into making them Hogwarts champion." His light blue eyes twinkled as they flickered over Flora and Hestia's mutinous faces. "I therefore beg you not to waste your time submitting yourself if you are under seventeen.

"The delegations from Beauxbatons and Durmstrang will be arriving in October and remaining with us for the greater part of this year. I know that you will all extend every courtesy to our foreign guests while they are with us, and will give your whole-hearted support to the Hogwarts champion when he or she is selected. And now, it is late, and I know how important it is to you all to be alert and rested as you enter your lessons tomorrow morning. Bedtime! Chop chop!"

Dumbledore sat down again and turned to talk to Mad-Eye Moody. There was a great scraping and banging as all the students got to their feet and swarmed toward the double doors into the entrance hall.

Hermione walked upstairs and got ready for bed, pulling on a giant t-shirt and a pair of booty shorts.

"Would you want to enter?" Daphne asked as she combed her hair.

"I would never want to." she scoffed, before turning over and going to bed.

The storm had blown itself out by the following morning, though the ceiling in the Great Hall was still gloomy; heavy clouds of pewter gray swirled overhead as Hermione looked at her course schedule, not even needing Professor Snape to tell her the usual: Potions on Thursday and Animagus on Tuesday.

"Today's not bad...outside all morning," said Theo, who was running his finger down the Monday column of his schedule. "Herbology with the Hufflepuffs and Care of Magical Creatures...damn it, we're still with the Gryffindors..."

There was a sudden rustling noise above them, and a hundred owls came soaring through the open windows carrying the morning mail. Artemis and Royal flew through carrying the usual packages of sweets from the Malfoys, but Hermione was surprised to see one addressed to her.

"You're family." said Draco sincerely, laying a hand on hers. Hermione smiled gratefully before stowing it in her bag.

"Eat breakfast first!" Pansy scolded, pulling the box of candy away from Draco who was ready to dig in.

Hermione's happiness at being included in the Malfoy family lasted all the way across the sodden vegetable patch until they arrived in greenhouse three, but here she was distracted by Professor Sprout showing the class the ugliest plants Hermione had ever seen. Indeed, they looked less like plants than thick, black, giant slugs, protruding vertically out of the soil. Each was squirming slightly and had a number of large, shiny swellings upon it, which appeared to be full of liquid.

"Bubotubers," Professor Sprout told them briskly. "They need squeezing. You will collect the pus -"

"The what?" said Tracy Davis, sounding revolted.

"Pus, Davis, pus," said Professor Sprout, "and it's extremely valuable, so don't waste it. You will collect the pus, I say, in these bottles. Wear your dragon-hide gloves; it can do funny things to the skin when undiluted, bubotuber pus."

Squeezing the bubotubers was disgusting, but oddly satisfying. As each swelling was popped, a large amount of thick yellowish-green liquid burst forth, which smelled strongly of petrol. They caught it in the bottles as Professor Sprout had indicated, and by the end of the lesson had collected several pints. Hermione quickly pocketed a pint, and her friends looked at her questioningly.

"This stuff is excellent for pranks, and good in potions." she muttered.

"This'll keep Madam Pomfrey happy," said Professor Sprout, stoppering the last bottle with a cork. "An excellent remedy for the more stubborn forms of acne, bubotuber pus. Should stop students resorting to desperate measures to rid themselves of pimples."

"Like poor Eloise Midgen," said Hannah Abbott, a Hufflepuff, in a hushed voice. "She tried to curse hers off."

"Silly girl," said Professor Sprout, shaking her head. "But Madam Pomfrey fixed her nose back on in the end."

"She was an idiot." Pansy giggled, and laughing they all went of to Care Of Magical Creatures.

Hagrid was standing outside his hut, one hand on the collar of his enormous black boarhound, Fang. There were several open wooden crates on the ground at his feet, and Fang was whimpering and straining at his collar, apparently keen to investigate the contents more closely. As they drew nearer, an odd rattling noise reached their ears, punctuated by what sounded like minor explosions.

"Mornin!" Hagrid grinned. "Wait fer the Gryffinders, they won' wan' to miss der Blast Ended Skrewts!"

Hermione looked down at the crates and squealed in horror, jumping back.

They looked like deformed, shell-less lobsters, horribly pale and slimy-looking, with legs sticking out in very odd places and no visible heads. There were about a hundred of them in each crate, each about six inches long, crawling over one another, bumping blindly into the sides of the boxes. They were giving off a very powerful smell of rotting fish. Every now and then, sparks would fly out of the end of a skrewt, and with a small phut, it would be propelled forward several inches.

"On'y jus' hatched," said Hagrid proudly, "so yeh'll be able ter raise 'em yerselves! Thought we'd make a bit of a project of it!"

"Why on earth would we want to raise these?" Draco asked in disgust.

Hagrid looked stumped at the question.

"I mean, what do they do?" asked Draco. "What is the point of them?"

Hagrid opened his mouth, apparently thinking hard; there was a few seconds' pause, then he said roughly, "Tha's next lesson, Malfoy. Yer jus' feedin' 'em today. Now, yeh'll wan' ter try 'em on a few diff'rent things - I've never had 'em before, not sure what they'll go fer - I got ant eggs an' frog livers an' a bit o' grass snake - just try 'em out with a bit of each."

Instead of doing what was required, Hermione and her friends just milled around the bins, every once in awhile throwing frog liver or ant eggs into the box.

"Ouch!" yelled Dean Thomas after about ten minutes. "It got me."

Hagrid hurried over to him, looking anxious.

"Its end exploded!" said Dean angrily, showing Hagrid a burn on his hand.

"Ah, yeah, that can happen when they blast off," said Hagrid, nodding.

"Eurgh!" said Lavender Brown again. "Eurgh, Hagrid, what's that pointy thing on it?"

"Ah, some of 'em have got stings," said Hagrid enthusiastically (Lavender quickly withdrew her hand from the box). "I reckon they're the males...The females've got sorta sucker things on their bellies...I think they might be ter suck blood."

"Well, I can certainly see why we're trying to keep them alive," said Blaise sarcastically. "Who wouldn't want pets that can burn, sting, and bite all at once?"

After the lesson they all went down to lunch, Hermione all ready to complain about the Blast Ended Skrewts. After lunch she went up to Ancient Runes, and got ready for the days lesson. She wasn't disappointed. Now they would be learning about the Runes themselves, and how they channeled magic and how to create your own runes.

After class Draco approached her, waving a paper about Weasley's father before giong over there to taunt him.

"Weasley! Hey, Weasley!" he called.

"What?" said Weasley shortly.

"Your dad's in the paper, Weasley!" said Draco, brandishing a copy of the Daily Prophet and speaking very loudly, so that everyone in the packed entrance hall could hear. "Listen to this!

FURTHER MISTAKES AT THE MINISTRY OF MAGIC

It seems as though the Ministry of Magic's troubles are not yet at an end, writes Rita Skeeter, Special Correspondent. Recently under fire for its poor crowd control at the Quidditch World Cup, and still unable to account for the disappearance of one of its witches, the Ministry was plunged into fresh embarrassment yesterday by the antics of Arnold Weasley, of the Misuse of Muggle Artifacts Office."

Draco looked up.

"Imagine them not even getting his name right, Weasley. It's almost as though he's a complete nonentity, isn't it?" Hermione crowed.

Everyone in the entrance hall was listening now. Draco straightened the paper with a flourish and read on:

Arnold Weasley, who was charged with possession of a flying car two years ago, was yesterday involved in a tussle with several Muggle law-keepers ("policemen") over a number of highly aggressive dustbins. Mr. Weasley appears to have rushed to the aid of "Mad-Eye" Moody, the aged ex-Auror who retired from the Ministry when no longer able to tell the difference between a handshake and attempted murder. Unsurprisingly, Mr. Weasley found, upon arrival at Mr. Moody's heavily guarded house, that Mr. Moody had once again raised a false alarm. Mr. Weasley was forced to modify several memories before he could escape from the policemen, but refused to answer Daily Prophet questions about why he had involved the Ministry in such an undignified and potentially embarrassing scene.

"And there's a picture, Weasley!" said Draco, flipping the paper over and holding it up. "A picture of your parents outside their house - if you can call it a house! Your mother could do with losing a bit of weight, couldn't she?"

"She's rather fat." Hermione giggled.

Weasley was shaking with fury.

"Get stuffed, Malfoy," said Potter. "C'mon, Ron..."

"Oh yeah, you were staying with them this summer, weren't you, Potter?" sneered Draco. "So tell me, is his mother really that porky, or is it just the picture?"

"You know your mother, Malfoy?" said Potter, "that expression she's got, like she's got dung under her nose? Has she always looked like that, or was it just because you were with her?"

Draco's pale face went slightly pink.

"Don't you dare insult my mother, Potter."

"Keep your fat mouth shut, then," said Potter, turning away.

BANG!

Draco had pulled out his wand and shot a curse at Potter, barely missing him. There was another large BANG!

"OH NO YOU DON'T, LADDIE!"

Hermione spun around. Professor Moody was limping down the marble staircase. His wand was out and it was pointing right at a pure white ferret, which was shivering on the stone-flagged floor, exactly where Draco had been standing.

There was a terrified silence in the entrance hall. Nobody but Moody was moving a muscle. Moody turned to look at Potter - at least, his normal eye was looking at Potter; the other one was pointing into the back of his head.

"Did he get you?" Moody growled. His voice was low and gravelly.

"No," said Potter, "missed."

"LEAVE IT!" Moody shouted.

"Leave - what?" Potter said, bewildered.

"Not you - him!" Moody growled, jerking his thumb over his shoulder at Crabbe, who had just frozen, about to pick up the white ferret. It seemed that Moody's rolling eye was magical and could see out of the back of his head.

"This is against the law." Hermione snapped coldly. Moody ignored her.

Moody started to limp toward Crabbe, Goyle, and the ferret, which gave a terrified squeak and took off, streaking toward the dungeons.

"I don't think so!" roared Moody, pointing his wand at the ferret again - it flew ten feet into the air, fell with a smack to the floor, and then bounced upward once more.

"I don't like people who attack when their opponent's back's turned," growled Moody as the ferret bounced higher and higher, squealing in pain. "Stinking, cowardly, scummy thing to do..."

"Stop!" Hermione shrieked, pulling out her own wand. "STOP!"

The ferret flew through the air, its legs and tail flailing helplessly.

"Never - do - that - again -" said Moody, speaking each word as the ferret hit the stone floor and bounced upward again.

"Professor Moody!" said a shocked voice.

Professor McGonagall was coming down the marble staircase with her arms full of books.

"Hello, Professor McGonagall," said Moody calmly, bouncing the ferret still higher.

"What - what are you doing?" said Professor McGonagall, her eyes following the bouncing ferret's progress through the air.

"Teaching," said Moody.

"Teach - Moody, is that a student?" shrieked Professor McGonagall, the books spilling out of her arms.

"Yep," said Moody.

"No!" cried Professor McGonagall, running down the stairs and pulling out her wand; a moment later, with a loud snapping noise, Draco Malfoy had reappeared, lying in a heap on the floor with his sleek blond hair all over his now brilliantly pink face. He got to his feet, wincing.

Hermione rushed to him, starting to heal his bruises from being bounced around on the stone floor.

"Moody, we never use Transfiguration as a punishment!" said Professor McGonagall weakly. "Surely Professor Dumbledore told you that?"

"He might've mentioned it, yeah," said Moody, scratching his chin unconcernedly, "but I thought a good sharp shock -"

"We give detentions, Moody! Or speak to the offender's Head of House!"

"I'll do that, then," said Moody, staring at Malfoy with great dislike.

"No you won't." Hermione spoke boldly.

"What?" he asked, his eye spinning towards her. She stood her ground.

"No you won't." she repeated.

"And why is that?" he asked, a mocking grin on his face.

"Because I've read all the school rules, and what you just did is against the school rules. I could easily send a letter to the Board of Governors telling them about this, and they could bring you up. Or I could pen a letter to Rita Skeeter telling her about what you did." Hermione paused to lick her lips. "All the parents would wonder- is Mad- Eye Moody madder than usual? Is he fit to teach our kids? So no, you won't, or your job will be on tenderhooks."

"You wouldn't dare." Moody growled, limping forward, the mocking smile on his face gone.

"Try me." she snarled, and there was a great 'Oooohhhhh' from the crowd of students. Hermione wondered for a moment what she was doing, facing off against the best Auror of their time.

Hermione expected Moody to take points or glare, but she didn't expect him to laugh; but he laughed, a great booming, rough laughter, before calming down. "Thirty points to Slytherin." he said calmly.

"What?" Hermione asked, stunned.

"WHY?" Weasley shouted.

"For spunk." he said. "Not many students would be willing to do that, but she did. That's the sort of attitude I want from students." and he limped off, leaving the rest of the students staring at him as though he had grown a second head.

Professor McGonagall stared anxiously after them for a few moments, then waved her wand at her fallen books, causing them to soar up into the air and back into her arms. She left, leaving the students there.

The next two days passed without great incident, unless you counted Longbottom melting his sixth cauldron in Potions.

"Idiot." Hermione scorned in her Potions lesson that Thursday.

"Yes indeed Mrs Granger." Snape said. "Now while you are with me we will be working on attaining your Potions Mastery. To attain this you must create a potion of your own. I created Veritaserum for mine. What potion would you like to create?"

Hermione thought for a moment. "I rather want to create a potion that will counteract the effects of the Cruciatus Curse."

Professor Snape raised an eyebrow. "An ambitious project. Very well, I want you to first research on the Cruciatus Curse before even starting this. Now during our Potions lessons in class I don't want you wasting your time brewing, so I will allow you to spend that time researching for this project."

Animagus was even worse. Hermione and Snape were in a room with scented calming oils, and Hermione closed her eyes.

"Retreat deep into your mindscape." came Snape's droning voice. "Find your creature. Bring it alive. Talk to it. Gain it's trust until you can merge with it. You and the animal must become one. Wreathed in thunder and power."

Hermione closed her eyes and found her thunder phoenix like always. She opened the book, and as Snape instructed, ripped out the page, bringing him to life. She was majestic, large and blue with thunder crackling from her feathers.

"Hello." said Hermione softly. "I'm Hermione. What's your name?"

I am Ankaa.

"You're beautiful." Hermione whispered, cooing.

And that was how Hermione's evenings went. She would sit down in her mindscape and talk, play, fly with Ankaa, before sleeping. Everyday she woke up refreshed, and every day Ankaa trusted her more. Hermione could now sprout a tail and a beak.

Potions lessons were good. The first class was the only one in which Hermione had trouble. Instead of pulling out her cauldron and brewing the Pepperup potion, she had pulled out her book and read.

"Hey!" Weasley had complained. "Why isn't she brewing?"

"For you information Weasley," Hermione replied coldly, "I already know how. Last year I passed my Potions NEWTS with an O, so right now I am working on my Mastery."

Weasley had been unable to respond to that, and Hermione had continued reading.

The Cruciatus Curse is one of the 3 unforgivables curses. It causes extreme pain and targets all the nerves in the body. The nerves are part of the Nervous system, which connects the entire body in what you do. The Cruciatus targets 6 of the main nerves- the brain, heart, legs, arms, eyes, and ears. The Cruciatus Curse also causes internal bleeding.

Hmm .This meant that Hermione would really have to create a potion to calm the nerves. She would also have to brew a potion to stop internal bleeding. This would be a hard one. At the end of class the Slytherins trooped up to Moody's class for Defense against the Dark Arts.

They hurried into three chairs right in front of the teacher's desk, took out their copies of The Dark Forces: A Guide to Self-Protection, and waited, unusually quiet. Soon they heard Moody's distinctive clunking footsteps coming down the corridor, and he entered the room, looking as strange and frightening as ever. They could just see his clawed, wooden foot protruding from underneath his robes.

"You can put those away," he growled, stumping over to his desk and sitting down, "those books. You won't need them."

They returned the books to their bags, Draco looking excited.

Moody took out a register, shook his long mane of grizzled gray hair out of his twisted and scarred face, and began to call out names, his normal eye moving steadily down the list while his magical eye swiveled around, fixing upon each student as he or she answered.

"Right then," he said, when the last person had declared themselves present, "I've had a letter from Professor Lupin about this class. Seems you've had a pretty thorough grounding in tackling Dark creatures - you've covered boggarts, Red Caps, hinkypunks, grindylows, Kappas, and werewolves, is that right?"

There was a general murmur of assent.

"But you're behind - very behind - on dealing with curses," said Moody. "So I'm here to bring you up to scratch on what wizards can do to each other. I've got one year to teach you how to deal with Dark Curses."

He gave a harsh laugh, and then clapped his gnarled hands together.

"So - straight into it. Curses. They come in many strengths and forms. Now, according to the Ministry of Magic, I'm supposed to teach you countercurses and leave it at that. I'm not supposed to show you what illegal Dark curses look like until you're in the sixth year. You're not supposed to be old enough to deal with it till then. But Professor Dumbledore's got a higher opinion of your nerves, he reckons you can cope, and I say, the sooner you know what you're up against, the better. How are you supposed to defend yourself against something you've never seen? A wizard who's about to put an illegal curse on you isn't going to tell you what he's about to do. He's not going to do it nice and polite to your face. You need to be prepared. You need to be alert and watchful."

"So...do any of you know which curses are most heavily punished by wizarding law?"

Several hands rose tentatively into the air, including Hermione, Theo, and surprisingly Crabbe's. Moody pointed at Crabbe.

"The Imperius Curse." he said softly.

"That's right." Moody said.

Moody got heavily to his mismatched feet, opened his desk drawer, and took out a glass jar. Three large black spiders were scuttling around inside it.

Moody reached into the jar, caught one of the spiders, and held it in the palm of his hand so that they could all see it. He then pointed his wand at it and muttered, "Imperio!"

The spider leapt from Moody's hand on a fine thread of silk and began to swing backward and forward as though on a trapeze. It stretched out its legs rigidly, then did a back flip, breaking the thread and landing on the desk, where it began to cartwheel in circles. Moody jerked his wand, and the spider rose onto two of its hind legs and went into what was unmistakably a tap dance.

Everyone was laughing - everyone except Moody.

"Think it's funny, do you?" he growled. "You'd like it, would you, if I did it to you?"

The laughter died away almost instantly.

"Total control," said Moody quietly as the spider balled itself up and began to roll over and over. "I could make it jump out of the window, drown itself, throw itself down one of your throats..."

Hermione gave a small shudder.

"Years back, there were a lot of witches and wizards being controlled by the Imperius Curse," said Moody. ""Some job for the Ministry, trying to sort out who was being forced to act, and who was acting of their own free will.

"The Imperius Curse can be fought, and I'll be teaching you how, but it takes real strength of character, and not everyone's got it. Better avoid being hit with it if you can. CONSTANT VIGILANCE!" he barked, and everyone jumped.

Hermione immediately noted that he said they would fight the curse. She would be researching that.

Moody picked up the somersaulting spider and threw it back into the jar.

"Anyone else know one? Another illegal curse?"

Hermione, Blaise, and Pansy's hands rose in the air.

"Parkinson." he said.

"The Cruciatus Curse." she said in a small but distinct voice.

"Correct."

Turning back to the class at large, he reached into the jar for the next spider and placed it upon the desktop, where it remained motionless, apparently too scared to move.

"The Cruciatus Curse," said Moody. "Needs to be a bit bigger for you to get the idea," he said, pointing his wand at the spider. "Engorgio!"

The spider swelled. It was now larger than a tarantula. Hermione watched intently, needing to understand the curse for her potion.

Moody raised his wand again, pointed it at the spider, and muttered, "Crucio!"

At once, the spider's legs bent in upon its body; it rolled over and began to twitch horribly, rocking from side to side. No sound came from it, but Hermione was sure that if it could have given voice, it would have been screaming. Moody did not remove his wand, and the spider started to shudder and jerk more violently -

Hermione was starting to understand. It gave such pain to the nerves that it's brain only panicked, and the body started trying to heal it leaving other parts without protection, hence the internal bleeding. So what she needed was a potion to calm the nerves and brain, which would help the body stop the internal bleeding by itself. A calming potion wouldn't work, that was only aimed at the mind.

"Reducio," Moody muttered, and the spider shrank back to its proper size. He put it back into the jar.

"Pain," said Moody softly. "You don't need thumbscrews or knives to torture someone if you can perform the Cruciatus Curse...That one was very popular once too.

"Right...anyone know any others?"

Hermione raised her hand for the third time. "Avada Kedavra." she said stoutly. "The Killing Curse."

"Ah," said Moody, another slight smile twisting his lopsided mouth. "Yes, the last and worst. Avada Kedavra...the Killing Curse."

He put his hand into the glass jar, and almost as though it knew what was coming, the third spider scuttled frantically around the bottom of the jar, trying to evade Moody's fingers, but he trapped it, and placed it upon the desktop. It started to scuttle frantically across the wooden surface.

"Avada Kedavra!" Moody roared.

There was a flash of blinding green light and a rushing sound, as though a vast, invisible something was soaring through the air - instantaneously the spider rolled over onto its back, unmarked, but unmistakably dead. Several of the students stifled cries; Hermione gasped.

"Avada Kedavra's a curse that needs a powerful bit of magic behind it - you could all get your wands out now and point them at me and say the words, and I doubt I'd get so much as a nosebleed. But that doesn't matter. I'm not here to teach you how to do it.

"Now, if there's no countercurse, why am I showing you? Because you've got to know. You've got to appreciate what the worst is. You don't want to find yourself in a situation where you're facing it. CONSTANT VIGILANCE!" he roared, and the whole class jumped again.

"Now...those three curses - Avada Kedavra, Imperius, and Cruciatus - are known as the Unforgivable Curses. The use of any one of them on a fellow human being is enough to earn a life sentence in Azkaban. That's what you're up against. That's what I've got to teach you to fight. You need preparing. You need arming. But most of all, you need to practice constant, never-ceasing vigilance. Get out your quills...copy this down..."

They spent the rest of the lesson taking notes on each of the Unforgivable Curses. No one spoke until the bell rang - but when Moody had dismissed them and they had left the classroom, a torrent of talk burst forth. Most people were discussing the curses in awed voices - "Did you see it twitch?" "- and when he killed it - just like that!"

"That was amazing!" Daphne said in hushed awe. That evening at dinner, Flora and Hestia walked up to them with their friend Carina Avery.

"Moody." Flora said. "He'll practice the Imperius on you. Be prepared." and on that ominous note, they walked away.

Chapter Text

That weekend Hermione found herself locked in the girls bathroom with Pansy and Daphne.

"What are we doing?" she scowled.

"Since the Triwizard Tournament is coming, we want to dress up, so we'll be adding highlights to our hair. Permanently." said Pansy.

Hermione stared at her like she had grown a second head. "You want to add color to my hair permanently?" she asked slowly.

"It's different from the muggle way!" said Daphne impatiently. "For one it's just a modified color changing charm, so it isn't bad for your hair."

"Fine!" Hermione said, throwing up her hands in defeat. There was no getting away from these two.

"We're doing Pansy first." said Daphne, holding out a bottle of potion. "All we have to do is apply the potion to her hair where we want it. Now, what color?"

Hermione studied Pansy's hair. It was a sleek glossy black. "I'm thinking dark brown." said Hermione.

"You're the boss." Daphne grinned, and pulling out the potion she rubbed it in streaks through Pansy's hair. "Now leave it in for an hour before going to wash." she instructed.

"Daphne next!" said Pansy. "What color?"

Hermione this time studied Daphne's hair. She had long, straight, golden blonde locks. "Red." she said finally.

Pansy rubbed the potion into Daphne's hair, before seating Hermione. Hermione could hear the two girls whispering, before putting potion in her hair.

"What color?" she asked curiously.

"Blonde." said Daphne.

When an hour was up and Hermione washed her hair, she gasped in shock. It looked wonderful. She now had dark brown, light brown, and dark blonde in her hair. Pansy now had sleek dark brown mixed into her glossy black. Daphne's was the most different, but she looked beautiful.

"You all look wonderful." Blaise purred when he saw them.

When the three girls walked into the Great Hall a few people stared at them, before complimenting them and going back to their meals. Hermione talked to Professor Snape next Potions lesson.

"Professor, how would one resist the Imperius?" she asked.

"You retreat into your landscape." he said. "When in happens a tendril of magic will seep into your mindscape, and you must resist it. If it expands and fills your landscape, you are under control." he replied. "And Miss Granger? Excellent hair color."

Hermione's animagus lessons had expanded immensely, and she now was mostly concentrating on her inner organs. She had almost everything else down.

Next DADA Moody put the Imperius on them.

"But - but you said it's illegal, Professor," said Millicent Bulstrode uncertainly as Moody cleared away the desks with a sweep of his wand, leaving a large clear space in the middle of the room. "You said - to use it against another human was -"

"Dumbledore wants you taught what it feels like," said Moody, his magical eye swiveling onto Millicent and fixing her with an eerie, unblinking stare. "If you'd rather learn the hard way - when someone's putting it on you so they can control you completely - fine by me. You're excused. Off you go."

Milli turned pink before retreating. Moody began to beckon students forward in turn and put the Imperius Curse upon them. Hermione watched as her classmates did extraordinary things. Pansy spoke fluent Japanese. Theo barked like a dog. Draco danced like a ballerina. Then it was Hermione's turn.

"Granger." Moody beckoned her with a gnarled finger. Hermione moved into the middle of the room where space had been cleared.

"Imperio!" he said. Hermione felt like she was floating, like nothing was wrong.

Kiss Draco Malfoy. Kiss Draco Malfoy

Hermione stayed where she was, before finding her mindscape. She saw Ankaa batting away at Moody's magic, and she joined the fight.

The magic is powerful! Ankaa shrieked.

"How do we stop it?" Hermione asked as she pushed away at the magic. Outside to others she was in a trance.

We must bond.

Before Hermione knew what was happening Ankaa flew straight into her, and Hermione felt a heat in her chest. Then pain. Excruciating pain. Hermione shrieked as she started transforming into a thunder phoenix. The magical backlash pushed Moody away.

Outside, the others saw Hermione rise up, surrounded by her aura, before she flared blue. Her arms sprouted feathers. Her head shrunk and her nose turned into a beak. Her legs became smaller and she grew a tail. Then there was a flash of thunder and Hermione pushed all her magic away. She was thunder! She was air! She was powerful!

Hermione turned back into a human, before landing on the ground and sinking away into a faint. When Hermione woke up she was still in the classroom, and by her calculation, it had only been a few seconds.

"There!" Moody exclaimed. "Miss Granger has done it! Tell them how."

The entire class turned to stare at her, and Hermione took a deep breath. "I retreated. I retreated into my mindscape, which can only be found through meditation. I battled Moody's magic, and unfortunately during that time our magics didn't react well. Now that I know how I could do it without the light show, but the first time I expended myself."

"Excellent. 50 points to Slytherin." and Moody moved on.

All the fourth years had noticed a definite increase in the amount of work they were required to do this term. Professor McGonagall explained why, when the class gave a particularly loud groan at the amount of Transfiguration homework she had assigned.

"You are now entering a most important phase of your magical education!" she told them, her eyes glinting dangerously behind her square spectacles. "Your Ordinary Wizarding Levels are drawing closer -"

"We don't take O.W.L.s till fifth year!" said Daphne Greengrass indignantly.

"Maybe not, but all the preparation will do!"

Meanwhile Professor Binns, the ghost who taught History of Magic, had them writing weekly essays on the goblin rebellions of the eighteenth century. Professor Snape was forcing them to research antidotes. They took this one seriously, as he had hinted that he might be poisoning one of them before Christmas to see if their antidote worked. Professor Flitwick had asked them to read three extra books in preparation for their lesson on Summoning Charms.

Even Hagrid was adding to their workload. The Blast-Ended Skrewts were growing at a remarkable pace given that nobody had yet discovered what they ate. Hagrid was delighted, and as part of their "project," suggested that they come down to his hut on alternate evenings to observe the skrewts and make notes on their extraordinary behavior.

"I will not," said Draco Malfoy flatly when Hagrid had proposed this with the air of Father Christmas pulling an extra-large toy out of his sack. "I see enough of these foul things during lessons, thanks."

Hagrid's smile faded off his face.

"Yeh'll do wha' yer told," he growled, "or I'll be takin' a leaf outta Professor Moody's book...I hear yeh made a good ferret, Malfoy."

"We'll get our revenge." Hermione murmured, and with a soft smile Draco continued on. Hermione had now added more people to her list of people TO KILL. Hagrid. Dumbledore. Hermione walked to the Great Hall.

When they arrived in the entrance hall, they found themselves unable to proceed owing to the large crowd of students congregated there, all milling around a large sign that had been erected at the foot of the marble staircase. Blaise, the tallest of the group, read the sign aloud to them.

TRIWIZARD TOURNAMENT

THE DELEGATIONS FROM BEAUXBATONS AND DURMSTRANG WILL BE ARRIVING AT 6 O'CLOCK ON FRIDAY THE 30TH OF OCTOBER. LESSONS WILL END HALF AN HOUR EARLY. STUDENTS WILL RETURN THEIR BAGS AND BOOKS TO THEIR DORMITORIES AND ASSEMBLE IN FRONT OF THE CASTLE TO GREET OUR GUESTS BEFORE THE WELCOMING FEAST.

"Who do you think will enter?" asked Daphne.

"Adrian Bucey and Derrick Bole are." said Hermione.

"Cedric Diggory from Hufflepuff, and Angelina Johnson from Gryffindor." said Pansy.

The appearance of the sign in the entrance hall had a marked effect upon the inhabitants of the castle. During the following week, there seemed to be only one topic of conversation, no matter where Hermione went: the Triwizard Tournament. Rumors were flying from student to student like highly contagious germs: who was going to try for Hogwarts champion, what the tournament would involve, how the students from Beauxbatons and Durmstrang differed from themselves.

Hermione noticed too that the castle seemed to be undergoing an extra-thorough cleaning. Several grimy portraits had been scrubbed, much to the displeasure of their subjects, who sat huddled in their frames muttering darkly and wincing as they felt their raw pink faces. The suits of armor were suddenly gleaming and moving without squeaking, and Argus Filch, the caretaker, was behaving so ferociously to any students who forgot to wipe their shoes that he terrified a pair of first-year girls into hysterics.

Hermione went down to her animagus lesson one evening, and met Professor Snape.

"You have done outstanding Miss Granger. Animagus transformation in 5 months is nothing to hide. Even I took nearly a year. Now you must practice. Every morning I recommend flying in your form. I will join you at the beginning to help you fly."

The next morning Hermione woke up early, got ready, and walked up to the Astronomy Tower. She looked at the edge and how high the drop was. With a smirk, she jumped off and transformed. Hermione soared through the sky, crowing with laughter. Catching a draft she wrapped her wings around herself and spiraled up, before stopping. This was life! She was so high, and could see everything; Hermione could see miles of the Forbidden Forest and the entirety of Hogwarts. With a crackle of thunder she flew back to the Astronomy Tower, transformed, and went down.

When they went down to breakfast on the morning of the thirtieth of October, they found that the Great Hall had been decorated overnight. Enormous silk banners hung from the walls, each of them representing a Hogwarts House: red with a gold lion for Gryffiindor, blue with a bronze eagle for Ravenclaw, yellow with a black badger for Hufflepuff, and green with a silver serpent for Slytherin. Behind the teachers' table, the largest banner of all bore the Hogwarts coat of arms: lion, eagle, badger, and snake united around a large letter H.

"The Snake's the best." said Draco bossily, and Hermione grinned.

"Who'll be the judges?" Draco asked.

"Well, the Heads of the participating schools are always on the panel," said Hermione, and everyone looked around at her, rather surprised, "because all three of them were injured during the Tournament of 1792, when a cockatrice the champions were supposed to be catching went on the rampage."

"Swot." said Theo playfully.

"Moron." Hermione bantered, before returning to her strawberries and cream.

There was a pleasant feeling of anticipation in the air that day. Nobody was very attentive in lessons, being much more interested in the arrival that evening of the people from Beauxbatons and Durmstrang; and when the bell rang Hermione and her friends dashed down the the dungeons to straighten up. Pansy applied silver to her eyeshadow, Daphne put eyeliner on, and so did Hermione, along with darkening her lip gloss shade and using magic to pull her hair into a feather braid.

The Heads of Houses were ordering their students into lines.

"Miss Davis stop messing with your hair, Crabbe put away the pumpkin pasty." Snape ordered. Hermione stifled a giggle. Vince was always eating.

They filed down the steps and lined up in front of the castle. It was a cold, clear evening; dusk was falling and a pale, transparent-looking moon was already shining over the Forbidden Forest.

"How do you think they will arrive?" Blaise asked.

"Flying carriage and Ship." said Hermione.

"Which book did you read that in this time?" Draco teased.

"I didn't read it anywhere." she snarked. "I just asked Professor Snape."

And then Dumbledore called out from the back row where he stood with the other teachers -

"Aha! Unless I am very much mistaken, the delegation from Beauxbatons approaches!"

"Where?" said many students eagerly, all looking in different directions.

"There!" yelled a sixth year, pointing over the forest.

Something large, much larger than a broomstick - or, indeed, a hundred broomsticks - was hurtling across the deep blue sky toward the castle, growing larger all the time.

"It's a dragon!" shrieked one of the first years, losing her head completely.

"Don't be stupid...it's a flying house!" said Dennis Creevey, a 1st year Gryffindor.

As the gigantic black shape skimmed over the treetops of the Forbidden Forest and the lights shining from the castle windows hit it, they saw a gigantic, powderblue, horse-drawn carriage, the size of a large house, soaring toward them, pulled through the air by a dozen winged horses, all palominos, and each the size of an elephant.

The front three rows of students drew backward as the carriage hurtled ever lower, coming in to land at a tremendous speed - then, with an almighty crash , the horses' hooves, larger than dinner plates, hit the ground. A second later, the carriage landed too, bouncing upon its vast wheels, while the golden horses tossed their enormous heads and rolled large, fiery red eyes.

Abraxan horses. Hermione had read about them. They were immensely magical and only answered to giants or half giants. This mean that their headmistress was half giant. They were also incredibly rare, and Hermione found herself lucky to be able to see one.

Hermione just had time to see that the door of the carriage bore a coat of arms (two crossed, golden wands, each emitting three stars) before it opened.

A boy in pale blue robes jumped down from the carriage, bent forward, fumbled for a moment with something on the carriage floor, and unfolded a set of golden steps. He sprang back respectfully.

Then Hermione saw a shining, high-heeled black shoe emerging from the inside of the carriage - a shoe the size of a child's sled - followed, almost immediately, by the largest woman she had ever seen in her life. The size of the carriage, and of the horses, was immediately explained. A few people gasped. This explained the Abraxans.

As she stepped into the light flooding from the entrance hall, she was revealed to have a handsome, olive-skinned face; large, black, liquid-looking eyes; and a rather beaky nose. Her hair was drawn back in a shining knob at the base of her neck. She was dressed from head to foot in black satin, and many magnificent opals gleamed at her throat and on her thick fingers. Hermione thought she was quite magnificent.

Dumbledore started to clap; the students, following his lead, broke into applause too, many of them standing on tiptoe, the better to look at this woman.

Her face relaxed into a gracious smile and she walked forward toward Dumbledore, extending a glittering hand. Dumbledore, though tall himself, had barely to bend to kiss it.

"My dear Madame Maxime," he said. "Welcome to Hogwarts."

"Dumbly-dorr," said Madame Maxime in a deep voice. "I 'ope I find you well?"

"In excellent form, I thank you," said Dumbledore.

"My pupils," said Madame Maxime, waving one of her enormous hands carelessly behind her.

Hermione noticed that about a dozen boys and girls, all, by the look of them, in their late teens, had emerged from the carriage and were now standing behind Madame Maxime. They were shivering, which was unsurprising, given that their robes seemed to be made of fine silk, and none of them were wearing cloaks. A few had wrapped scarves and shawls around their heads.

Stepping forward to the surprise of others, she waved her whispering a few spells. Their thin silk clothes quickly were transfigured into thicker but still beautiful warm silk robes, and a few warming charms were placed on them too.

"Thank you." said one of the girls, a beautiful blonde. Hermione stepped back with a small smile.

"So nice." Pansy muttered. "One might think you're a Hufflepuff."

"As Karkaroff arrived yet?" Madame Maxime asked.

"He should be here any moment," said Dumbledore. "Would you like to wait here and greet him or would you prefer to step inside and warm up a trifle?"

"Warm up, I think," said Madame Maxime. "But ze 'orses -"

"Our Care of Magical Creatures teacher will be delighted to take care of them," said Dumbledore, "the moment he has returned from dealing with a slight situation that has arisen with some of his other - er - charges."

"My steeds require - er - forceful 'andling," said Madame Maxime, looking as though she doubted whether any Care of Magical Creatures teacher at Hogwarts could be up to the job. "Zey are very strong..."

"I assure you that Hagrid will be well up to the job," said Dumbledore, smiling. Hermione doubted it.

"Very well," said Madame Maxime, bowing slightly. "Will you please inform zis 'Agrid zat ze 'orses drink only single-malt whiskey?"

"It will be attended to," said Dumbledore, also bowing.

"Come," said Madame Maxime imperiously to her students, and the Hogwarts crowd parted to allow her and her students to pass up the stone steps.

"Single malt whiskey?" Daphne muttered, and Hermione stifled a giggle.

They stood, shivering slightly now, waiting for the Durmstrang party to arrive. Most people were gazing hopefully up at the sky.

For a few minutes, the silence was broken only by Madame Maxime's huge horses snorting and stamping. But then - a loud and oddly eerie noise was drifting toward them from out of the darkness: a muffled rumbling and sucking sound, as though an immense vacuum cleaner were moving along a riverbed...

"The lake!" yelled a Gryffindor, pointing down at it. "Look at the lake!"

From their position at the top of the lawns overlooking the grounds, they had a clear view of the smooth black surface of the water - except that the surface was suddenly not smooth at all. Some disturbance was taking place deep in the center; great bubbles were forming on the surface, waves were now washing over the muddy banks -and then, out in the very middle of the lake, a whirlpool appeared, as if a giant plug had just been pulled out of the lake's floor...

"There's the ship." Hermione said, watching as it rose. It was a majestic sight.

Slowly, magnificently, the ship rose out of the water, gleaming in the moonlight. It had a strangely skeletal look about it, as though it were a resurrected wreck, and the dim, misty lights shimmering at its portholes looked like ghostly eyes. Finally, with a great sloshing noise, the ship emerged entirely, bobbing on the turbulent water, and began to glide toward the bank. A few moments later, they heard the splash of an anchor being thrown down in the shallows, and the thud of a plank being lowered onto the bank.

The people disembarking were all well built, wearing thick furs. But the man who was leading them up to the castle was wearing furs of a different sort: sleek and silver, like his hair.

"Dumbledore!" he called heartily as he walked up the slope. "How are you, my dear fellow, how are you?"

"Blooming, thank you, Professor Karkaroff," Dumbledore replied. Karkaroff had a fruity, unctuous voice; when he stepped into the light pouring from the front doors of the castle they saw that he was tall and thin like Dumbledore, but his white hair was short, and his goatee (finishing in a small curl) did not entirely hide his rather weak chin. When he reached Dumbledore, he shook hands with both of his own.

"Dear old Hogwarts…" his grin did nothing to hide his yellowed teeth. "Now, can we get it? Viktor has a slight head cold."

Hermione already knew who the student was, and didn't need a punch to recognize it, nor the whisper in her ear from Draco, "It's Krum!"

"I know it it. Didn't you know he still attended school?" Hermione said. All her friends shook their heads. "Read some books!" she said exasperatedly.

As they entered the hall they sat down in their usual seats. The Durmstrang students joined them, and Viktor Krum, with his friends sat with Hermione and her friends.

"Draco Malfoy." he introduced himself.

"Viktor Krum, and this is Iliya Romanov and his twin sister Natasha."

"Pleasure." Hermione said with a grin. "Hermione Granger, and this is Pansy Parkinson, Blaise Zabini, Theo Nott, Daphne Greengrass, Vincent Crabbe, and Gregory Goyle."

"I did not know Hogwarts had such pretty ladies." said Iliya. He was tall and dark haired, with piercing grey eyes like his sister. The only difference was their hair length.

Daphne and Pansy giggled, as did Flora and Hestia who were sitting with them, while Hermione just grinned and replied, "It doesn't. Only Slytherin has the pretty girls."

Iliya laughed a little.

"You do not flirt or giggle." Viktor observed.

"That's because I don't care to." Hermione said flippantly.

Up at the staff table, Filch, the caretaker, was adding chairs. He was wearing his moldy old tailcoat in honor of the occasion.

When all the students had entered the Hall and settled down at their House tables, the staff entered, filing up to the top table and taking their seats. Last in line were Professor Dumbledore, Professor Karkaroff, and Madame Maxime. When their headmistress appeared, the pupils from Beauxbatons leapt to their feet. A few of the Hogwarts students laughed. The Beauxbatons party appeared quite unembarrassed, however, and did not resume their seats until Madame Maxime had sat down on Dumbledore's left-hand side. Dumbledore remained standing, and a silence fell over the Great Hall.

"Good evening, ladies and gentlemen, ghosts and - most particularly - guests," said Dumbledore, beaming around at the foreign students. "I have great pleasure in welcoming you all to Hogwarts. I hope and trust that your stay here will be both comfortable and enjoyable."

"The tournament will be officially opened at the end of the feast," said Dumbledore. "I now invite you all to eat, drink, and make yourselves at home!"

The plates in front of them filled with food as usual. The house-elves in the kitchen seemed to have pulled out all the stops; there was a greater variety of dishes in front of them than Hermione had ever seen. She noted that the Durmstrang students immediately went for a few dishes that she didn't recognize.

"What are those?" she questioned.

"Traditional Bulgarian dishes." said Viktor.

"Which ones would you recommend?"

He pointed her towards a delicious looking soup. Hermione tried it and her eyes widened.

"This is good!" she said. "Try it!" she passed it to Theo, who sipped it before his eyes also widened.

The Great Hall seemed somehow much more crowded than usual, even though there were barely twenty additional students there; perhaps it was because their differently colored uniforms stood out so clearly against the black of the Hogwarts' robes. Now that they had removed their furs, the Durmstrang students were revealed to be wearing robes of a deep bloodred.

Ludo Bagman and Barty Crouch had joined Dumbledore at the high table. Once the golden plates had been wiped clean, Dumbledore stood up again. A pleasant sort of tension seemed to fill the Hall now.

"The moment has come," said Dumbledore, smiling around at the sea of upturned faces. "The Triwizard Tournament is about to start. I would like to say a few words of explanation before we bring in the casket -"

"What?" Blaise asked.

"The Goblet of Fire." said Hermione. "I read up on it. It is a magical artifact that is the chooser of who competes in the Triwizard Tournament. A competitor writes their name and school on paper before throwing the slip into the flames. Then the Goblet chooses who would be the best candidate out of all the people at their school. It can't be cheated unless by a very powerful wizard or Confundus Charm. It was created by Rowena Ravenclaw herself for the Tournament. The first Tournament was between the 4 Founders before they reduced it to three. Salazar Slytherin and Helga Hufflepuff tied. The first Task generally has to do with a magical creature, and involves a clue for the second task." Hermione then noticed that the entire table was listening to her attentively and staring.

"You are a smart girl Miss Granger." said Viktor Krum, and Hermione smiled softly, before turning her attention back to the main table.

"- just to clarify the procedure that we will be following this year. But first, let me introduce, for those who do not know them, Mr. Bartemius Crouch, Head of the Department of International Magical Cooperation" - there was a smattering of polite applause - "and Mr. Ludo Bagman, Head of the Department of Magical Games and Sports."

There was a much louder round of applause for Bagman than for Crouch, perhaps because of his fame as a Beater, or simply because he looked so much more likable. He acknowledged it with a jovial wave of his hand. Bartemius Crouch did not smile or wave when his name was announced.

"Mr. Bagman and Mr. Crouch have worked tirelessly over the last few months on the arrangements for the Triwizard Tournament," Dumbledore continued, "and they will be joining myself, Professor Karkaroff, and Madame Maxime on the panel that will judge the champions' efforts."

At the mention of the word "champions," the attentiveness of the listening students seemed to sharpen. Perhaps Dumbledore had noticed their sudden stillness, for he smiled as he said, "The casket, then, if you please, Mr. Filch."

Filch, who had been lurking unnoticed in a far corner of the Hall, now approached Dumbledore carrying a great wooden chest encrusted with jewels. It looked extremely old. A murmur of excited interest rose from the watching students; Dennis Creevey actually stood on his chair to see it properly, but, being so tiny, his head hardly rose above anyone else's.

"The instructions for the tasks the champions will face this year have already been examined by Mr. Crouch and Mr. Bagman," said Dumbledore as Filch placed the chest carefully on the table before him, "and they have made the necessary arrangements for each challenge. There will be three tasks, spaced throughout the school year, and they will test the champions in many different ways.. their magical prowess - their daring - their powers of deduction - and, of course, their ability to cope with danger."

At this last word, the Hall was filled with a silence so absolute that nobody seemed to be breathing.

"As you know, three champions compete in the tournament," Dumbledore went on calmly, "one from each of the participating schools. They will be marked on how well they perform each of the Tournament tasks and the champion with the highest total after task three will win the Triwizard Cup. The champions will be chosen by an impartial selector: the Goblet of Fire."

Dumbledore now took out his wand and tapped three times upon the top of the casket. The lid creaked slowly open. Dumbledore reached inside it and pulled out a large, roughly hewn wooden cup. It would have been entirely unremarkable had it not been full to the brim with dancing blue-white flames.

Dumbledore closed the casket and placed the goblet carefully on top of it, where it would be clearly visible to everyone in the Hall.

"Anybody wishing to submit themselves as champion must write their name and school clearly upon a slip of parchment and drop it into the goblet," said Dumbledore. "Aspiring champions have twenty-four hours in which to put their names forward. Tomorrow night, Halloween, the goblet will return the names of the three it has judged most worthy to represent their schools. The goblet will be placed in the entrance hall tonight, where it will be freely accessible to all those wishing to compete.

"To ensure that no underage student yields to temptation," said Dumbledore, "I will be drawing an Age Line around the Goblet of Fire once it has been placed in the entrance hall. Nobody under the age of seventeen will be able to cross this line.

"Finally, I wish to impress upon any of you wishing to compete that this tournament is not to be entered into lightly. Once a champion has been selected by the Goblet of Fire, he or she is obliged to see the tournament through to the end. The placing of your name in the goblet constitutes a binding, magical contract. There can be no change of heart once you have become a champion. Please be very sure, therefore, that you are wholeheartedly prepared to play before you drop your name into the goblet. As of this moment, the Triwizard Tournament has begun."

Chapter Text

Hermione's schedule had changed. Now she practiced her animagus transformations every Tuesday, and on Thursdays she worked on her Potion. Hermione had made a lot of progress. She could now calm the nerves, but it was only temporary. Hermione was experimenting with Valerian root and her animagus phoenix tears to make it permanent. She had started spending not only Thursday evenings but Monday and Sunday evenings in the lab too.

As the next day was Saturday, most students would normally have breakfasted late; however, many students were milling about the Goblet, watching the thin golden line surrounding it. The Goblet of Fire had been placed in the center of the hall on the stool that normally bore the Sorting Hat. A thin golden line had been traced on the floor, forming a circle ten feet around it in every direction.

"Who has put their name in?" Pansy asked third year Chastity Knight.

"All the Durmstrang lot," she replied. "The Weasley Twins tried, but they were ejected and grew long beards. They tried an aging potion. I'm off to breakfast now." Chastity flipped her curly brown hair out her face and walked off with her friend Astoria Greengrass.

The decorations in the Great Hall had changed this morning. As it was Halloween, a cloud of live bats was fluttering around the enchanted ceiling, while hundreds of carved pumpkins leered from every corner.

"Warrington put his name in." Hestia told them. "And Angelina Johnson left to put her's in."

"She'd never get in." Hermione scoffed.

The students from Beauxbatons were coming through the front doors from the grounds, among them, the veela-girl. Those gathered around the Goblet of Fire stood back to let them pass, watching eagerly.

Madame Maxime entered the hall behind her students and organized them into a line. One by one, the Beauxbatons students stepped across the Age Line and dropped their slips of parchment into the blue-white flames. As each name entered the fire, it turned briefly red and emitted sparks.

When all the Beauxbatons students had submitted their names, Madame Maxime led them back out of the hall and out onto the grounds again. After a quick breakfast, Hermione left to research the Triwizard Tournament in the library.

After a while, she noticed that Viktor Krum was joining her.

"Miss Granger." he said, sitting down. "What are you reading?"

"I'm researching the Triwizard Tournament." Hermione said, not really believing that he wanted to spend time with her. "Look."

The Triwizard Tournament's first task has a history of using magical creatures. Previous tasks have involved taking gold from a Niffler obstacle course, or getting past Demiguise. The biggest mistake was when a cockatrice got loose, but after that creature handlers have specifically stayed to take care. Unicorns, Thunderbirds, and Horned Serpents have all been used. In one task a half blind basilisk that could only petrify was released, and the winner was a young girl who could speak Parseltongue. Neither gnomes nor Wampus cats have ever been used. In the Tournament of 1774, Dragons were meant to be used but the Tournament was cancelled last minute. Acromantulas were used in 1798, but when two of the competitors were killed and eaten, the Acromantulas were chased away and the tournament forfeited to the survivor.

"This is interesting." said Viktor.

"Don't you get it?" Hermione said. "Magical creatures! This means that for the first task, a magical creature will be brought in. They will likely be cordoned off in the Forbidden Forest, which is the safest place, so all you have to do is go searching there!"

"Wow." said Viktor. He would never have been able to conclude all this.

"Vik, it's time for dinner." said Natasha, Viktor's friend as she came in.

When they entered the candlelit Great Hall it was almost full. The Goblet of Fire had been moved; it was now standing in front of Dumbledore's empty chair at the teachers' table. The Halloween feast seemed to take much longer than usual. Perhaps because it was their second feast in two days, Hermione didn't seem to fancy the extravagantly prepared food as much as he would have normally. Like everyone else in the Hall, judging by the constantly craning necks, the impatient expressions on every face, the fidgeting, and the standing up to see whether Dumbledore had finished eating yet, Hermione just wanted to know who would be the champion.

At long last, the golden plates returned to their original spotless state; there was a sharp upswing in the level of noise within the Hall, which died away almost instantly as Dumbledore got to his feet. On either side of him, Professor Karkaroff and Madame Maxime looked as tense and expectant as anyone. Ludo Bagman was beaming and winking at various students. Mr. Crouch, however, looked quite uninterested, almost bored.

"Well, the goblet is almost ready to make its decision," said Dumbledore. "I estimate that it requires one more minute. Now, when the champions' names are called, I would ask them please to come up to the top of the Hall, walk along the staff table, and go through into the next chamber" - he indicated the door behind the staff table - "where they will be receiving their first instructions."

He took out his wand and gave a great sweeping wave with it; at once, all the candles except those inside the carved pumpkins were extinguished, plunging them into a state of semidarkness. The Goblet of Fire now shone more brightly than anything in the whole Hall, the sparkling bright, bluey-whiteness of the flames almost painful on the eyes. Everyone watched, waiting...A few people kept checking their watches...

Hermione mentally applauded Dumbledore on how dramatic the effect was.

The flames inside the goblet turned suddenly red again. Sparks began to fly from it. Next moment, a tongue of flame shot into the air, a charred piece of parchment fluttered out of it - the whole room gasped.

Dumbledore caught the piece of parchment and held it at arm's length, so that he could read it by the light of the flames, which had turned back to blue-white.

"The champion for Durmstrang," he read, in a strong, clear voice, "will be Viktor Krum."

The Durmstrang students burst into cheer, as did many of the Slytherins, including Hermione and her friends. Viktor gave her a small grin before entering the ante chamber.

"Bravo, Viktor!" boomed Karkaroff, so loudly that everyone could hear him, even over all the applause. "Knew you had it in you!"

The clapping and chatting died down. Now everyone's attention was focused again on the goblet, which, seconds later, turned red once more. A second piece of parchment shot out of it, propelled by the flames.

"The champion for Beauxbatons," said Dumbledore, "is Fleur Delacour!"

Hermione saw the blonde girl who had thanked her for warming their clothes stand up and gracefully make her way to the side chamber. By her looks Hermione would reckon that she was half veela. The other girls looked disappointed. Two of the girls who had not been selected had dissolved into tears and were sobbing with their heads on their arms. Idiots. They should be proud for their friend.

When Fleur Delacour too had vanished into the side chamber, silence fell again, but this time it was a silence so stiff with excitement you could almost taste it. The Hogwarts champion next...

And the Goblet of Fire turned red once more; sparks showered out of it; the tongue of flame shot high into the air, and from its tip Dumbledore pulled the third piece of parchment.

"The Hogwarts champion," he called, "is Cedric Diggory!"

"Damn it!" Draco swore. Hermione was disappointed, but she grudgingly clapped a little for the tall handsome boy. The Hufflepuffs were cheering up a storm, and Hermione couldn't help but wish that was them. Every single Hufflepuff had jumped to his or her feet, screaming and stamping, as Cedric made his way past them, grinning broadly, and headed off toward the chamber behind the teachers' table. Indeed, the applause for Cedric went on so long that it was some time before Dumbledore could make himself heard again.

"Excellent!" Dumbledore called happily as at last the tumult died down. "Well, we now have our three champions. I am sure I can count upon all of you, including the remaining students from Beauxbatons and Durmstrang, to give your champions every ounce of support you can muster. By cheering your champion on, you will contribute in a very real -"

But Dumbledore suddenly stopped speaking, and it was apparent to everybody what had distracted him.

The fire in the goblet had just turned red again. Sparks were flying out of it. A long flame shot suddenly into the air, and borne upon it was another piece of parchment.

Automatically, it seemed, Dumbledore reached out a long hand and seized the parchment. He held it out and stared at the name written upon it. There was a long pause, during which Dumbledore stared at the slip in his hands, and everyone in the room stared at Dumbledore. And then Dumbledore cleared his throat and read out -

"Harry Potter."

Hermione could only stare and hope that she misunderstood. Potter. Potter?! That imbecile? He couldn't be in the Tournament! He was underage, he probably cheated … the list could go on.

There was no applause. A buzzing, as though of angry bees, was starting to fill the Hall; some students were standing up to get a better look at Potter.

"What?" Blaise snarled, looking feral and every inch of the cruel wizard he could be when provoked.

Up at the top table, Professor McGonagall had got to her feet and swept past Ludo Bagman and Professor Karkaroff to whisper urgently to Professor Dumbledore, who bent his ear toward her, frowning slightly.

At the top table, Professor Dumbledore had straightened up, nodding to Professor McGonagall.

"Harry Potter!" he called again. "Harry! Up here, if you please!"

Potter stumbled up there before entering the ante chamber. The buzzing grew louder and louder.

"Everyone please go to bed." said Dumbledore quietly.

Hermione went to sleep with many questions plaguing her mind, but among them one was inherent: How?

The next day when she woke up Hermione grabbed a piece of toast and went to the library to do research. Again, Viktor joined her.

"What happened to Potter?" she asked, thankful that no one could see them talking. They were in a secluded corner of the library.

"He is allowed to compete. The boy looked scared, and denied entering." Viktor had an ugly look on his face. "Personally I don't know."

"He won't be able to beat you." Hermione said confidently, but inside she was angry. Potter got everything. Everything! And people let it happen because he was the bloody boy who lived.

"I hope so." Viktor said softly. "Would you like to come with me to explore the Forbidden Forest for the first task? I will go everyday until I find something."

"Maybe later." said Hermione, before packing up and walking off. Viktor stared at her. He just asked her on a date and she was oblivious!

The only good thing to come out of Potter being chosen as a champion was that the rest of the school, just like the Gryffindors, thought Harry had entered himself for the tournament. The Hufflepuffs felt that Harry had chosen their champions glory. Ravenclaws thought that it was unfair and were angry he outsmarted them. Slytherins just hated him.

"Come on!" said Draco as they went to COMC. "I want to provoke Potter."

"Ah, look, boys, it's the champion," he said as Potter approached them. "Got your autograph books? Better get a signature now, because I doubt he's going to be around much longer...Half the Triwizard champions have died...how long d'you reckon you're going to last, Potter? Ten minutes into the first task's my bet."

Crabbe and Goyle guffawed, but before they could go any further Hagrid emerged from the back of his cabin balancing a teetering tower of crates, each containing a very large Blast-Ended Skrewt. To the class's horror, Hagrid proceeded to explain that the reason the skrewts had been killing one another was an excess of pent-up energy, and that the solution would be for each student to fix a leash on a skrewt and take it for a short walk.

Hermione scoffed before using magic to levitate the leash onto her Skrewt, and she handed the leash to Crabbe. It was the stupidest class ever. Later that evening Hermione came back to the common room from her Potion lesson to see Draco sitting in a chair with a bloody nose.

"What happened?" she asked.

"I provoked Potter, and he went batshit crazy and punched me." Draco grumbled.

Hermione grumbled under her breath before healing him. "He'll die." she promised.

As revenge Hermione worked with Pansy and Flora to create badges that mocked Potter. Their chance came when Potter was in a Potion lesson with them. When Potter approacehd they all switched on the badges. They were black with luminous red letters spelling, "SUPPORT CEDRIC DIGGORY-

THE REAL HOGWARTS CHAMPION!"

"Like them Potter?" Hermione asked in a mocking tone. "And they do more."

With a flash the letters turned purple to say SUPPORT FLEUR DELACOUR, THE BEAUXBATONS CHAMPION!

With another flash they turned blue and said SUPPORT VIKTOR KRUM, THE DURMSTRANG CHAMPION!

On each message was also a picture of the competitor. One more flash and they turned a sickly green, saying POTTER STINKS!

It had been Hermione's idea to include all the competitors to make Potter seem more left out. Flora and Hestia were selling them a galleon apiece.

"Really funny." Parvati Patil drawled in a sarcastic tone.

"Want one?" Blaise asked. "Just don't touch my hand, it would lower my IQ."

Parvati seethed, and Hermione saw Potter raise his wand.

"Go on then." said Draco. "Moody isn't here to save you now."

"Furnunculus!" Potter screamed.

"Densaugeo!" Draco screamed.

The two spells ricocheted off each other. Draco's hit Patil, and Potter's was aimed to hit Hermione until she quickly shielded herself, and the spell ricochet and hit Patil again. Hermione had to giggle. Pati's teeth were rapidly growing while boils covered her face.

"And what is all this noise about?" said a soft, deadly voice. Professor Snape had arrived. "Miss Granger, explain."

"Potter tried to hex Draco, so Draco shot back. I was almost hit but I shielded." she said.

"Parvati was hit!" screamed Lavender Brown.

Snape looked coldly at the girl and stated, "I see no difference." The girl whimpered and ran off. All the Gryffindors started yelling at him, and they were lucky that their voices were crowded because Hermione heard a few choice curse words in there; however, Snape got the gist of it. "50 points from Gryffindor." he said silkily.

"It is time to test your antidotes." Professor Snape said. Hermione pulled out her ingredients list and tuned him out. So far she had a solid procedure, but at this step she wasn't sure: She needed to target the nerves for calming, but she couldn't figure out which ingredient would target the nerves to the potion.

"I suggest phoenix tears." said Draco next to her. "They always aim towards the parts of the body with more damage."

Hermione flashed him a grateful grin and continued on, adding Boomslang skin and mermaid scales to her procedure. A knock on the door interrupted her; a small mousy Gryffindor came in.

"Please, sir, I'm supposed to take Harry Potter upstairs." he said, and Snape regarded him coldly.

"Mr Potter has another hour of potions to complete. He will come upstairs when class is finished.

The boy went pink. "Sir, Mr Bagman wants him."

"Get out of my sight." Snape snarled. The rest of the lesson went normally, and Weasley's antidote failed completely, which meant that he was given a bezoar. After class, Hermione went down to her usual table in the library, knowing Viktor would meet her.

"What happened?" she asked.

"A photo shoot." he said, disgruntled. "Potter vent off for a private interview with some woman named Skeeter."

Hermione smirked victoriously. "She's a friend of mine. She will make sure that Potter is exposed for what he is." Viktor's grin slowly turned dark.

The article turned out amazing. Potter was seen as a lying cheating boy who used dark magic to enter and was a traitor to his parents memories. Hermione sent Rita a box of chocolates as thanks. They had a Hogsmeade visit a while later, and Hermione enjoyed it immensely. The weather was still nice, so Hermione was able to wear a long blue skirt and a silver shirt that she bought- it was a halter top.

Soon it was time for the first task. Hermione sat in the stands, holding up a sign saying support all three of the real champions. The tasks turned out amazing. Cedric Diggory distracted the dragon, a Swedish Short Snout, with a transfigured dog. Unfortunately, he was burnt as he ran back with the golden egg that the champions were supposed to take. Fleur lulled the dragon to sleep with her Veela charm since she was half veela, but her skirt got burnt by the dragon's snore. Viktor shot a conjunctivitis curse at the dragon and snatched the egg, but the dragon trampled a lot of the real eggs. Hermione thought it was cruel, since there were actual babies in those. Potter just flew around the dragon, but still got the highest marks.

Hermione thought it was quite unfair, but didn't complain, after all, the Golden Rule of Life- If it's a Slytherin, don't treat them well.

Chapter Text

The start of December brought wind and sleet to Hogwarts. Drafty though the castle always was in winter. Hermione was glad of its fires and thick walls every time she passed the Durmstrang ship on the lake, which was pitching in the high winds, its black sails billowing against the dark skies. She thought the Beauxbatons caravan was likely to be pretty chilly too. Hagrid, she noticed, was keeping Madame Maxime's horses well provided with their preferred drink of single-malt whiskey; the fumes wafting from the trough in the comer of their paddock was enough to make the entire Care of Magical Creatures class light-headed. This was unhelpful, as they were still tending the horrible skrewts and needed their wits about them.

"I'm not sure whether they hibernate or not," Hagrid told the shivering class in the windy pumpkin patch next lesson. "Thought we'd jus' try an see if they fancied a kip...we'll jus' settle 'em down in these boxes..."

The lesson was a disaster. It ended with everyone running for cover before they were burnt. Rita showed up last minute, to interview Hagrid. Hermione just trudged off.

"The Yule Ball." said Professor Snape strictly. "Is a traditional part of the Triwizard Tournament and an opportunity for us to socialize with our foreign guests. Now, the ball will be open only to fourth years and above - although you may invite a younger student if you wish -"

"It will start at 8 in the Great Hall. Now, I will be watching you, and none of you will embarass yourselves unless you want detention!"

Hermione was excited. Then she realized something. She didn't have a dress.

Dear Mrs Malfoy,

I'm sorry to bother you. I just found out a Yule Ball is coming, and I don't have a dress. I have a savings account from modeling, and I can send you the key so you can buy a dress. I'm terribly sorry to be such an imposition, but Hogsmeade has no good dress shops.

Thanks,

Hermione

Hermione's answer came in the form of a large box with Artemis. Hermione put it away, wanting to keep it a surprise for later. Then came the hard part, getting a date. Hermione was not a flirt, and she knew it. Draco had asked Pansy, much to her dismay, and Daphne was going with Blaise. Theo had decided to go with Third Year Chastity Knight, a good friend of theirs. Flora and Hestia were with two boys in their year, the Warrington Brothers. She was left alone.

Hermione's answer came in the library. She loved the library; it was her refuge. Hermione sat there, hair pulled back, reading about Potions for her Mastery. Viktor approached her like always.

"Hermione?" he asked. His tone was different.

"Yes?" she asked.

"I vas hoping you vould accompany me to the Yule Ball."

Hermione stared at him. She was being asked to a Ball by a famous Quidditch Player. Who was handsome. Bloody Merlin.

"I would love to." she said softly, doing her best not to stutter. His face lit up, and he said something, but Hermione barely heard it. She was going to the Ball!

The last week of term became increasingly boisterous as it progressed. Rumors about the Yule Ball were flying everywhere, though Hermione didn't believe half of them - for instance, that Dumbledore had bought eight hundred barrels of mulled mead from Madam Rosmerta. It seemed to be fact, however, that he had booked the Weird Sisters.

Some of the teachers, like little Professor Flitwick, gave up trying to teach them much when their minds were so clearly elsewhere; he allowed them to play games in his lesson on Wednesday, and spent most of it talking to Hermione about how if she ever needed help with her Potions Mastery, he would be there. He had loosened up since last year, and was more fair now. Hermione had gotten really close, but the last step was making it permanent. She still couldn't figure that out.

The Hogwarts staff, demonstrating a continued desire to impress the visitors from Beauxbatons and Durmstrang, seemed determined to show the castle at its best this Christmas. When the decorations went up. Hermione noticed that they were the most stunnings he had yet seen inside the school. Everlasting icicles had been attached to the banisters of the marble staircase; the usual twelve Christmas trees in the Great Hall were bedecked with everything from luminous holly berries to real, hooting, golden owls, and the suits of armor had all been bewitched to sing carols whenever anyone passed them. It was quite something to hear "O Come, All Ye Faithful" sung by an empty helmet that only knew half the words. Several times, Filch the caretaker had to extract Peeves from inside the armor, where he had taken to hiding, filling in the gaps in the songs with lyrics of his own invention, all of which were very rude.

Even the Common Room had a giant green Christmas Tree with silver ornaments on it. Hermione rushed through an easy Potions Test for fun with the rest of the class before going back to her meditation. She was trying to improve her mindscape.

"Hermione!" Pansy shrieked interrupting Hermione as she read a book on Ancient Runes with Theo, who was self studying them.

"Yeah?" she said.

"Weasley asked Fleur Delacour to the Ball!" Hermione looked up at that.

"What did she say?"

"No, Obviously. He turned really red and she looked at him like he was a bug." Pansy giggled.

Winter was rapidly approaching. Snow was falling thickly upon the castle and its grounds now. The pale blue Beauxbatons carriage looked like a large, chilly, frosted pumpkin next to the iced gingerbread house that was Hagrid's cabin, while the Durmstrang ship's portholes were glazed with ice, the rigging white with frost. The house-elves down in the kitchen were outdoing themselves with a series of rich, warming stews and savory puddings, and only Fleur Delacour seemed to be able to find anything to complain about.

This year many students were staying at Hogwarts for the Yule Ball, so there was no empty castle. Mrs Malfoy was rescheduling the Christmas Dinner to a Summer Gala.

On Christmas Day Hermione leaped out of bed and pulled on the new emerald green dressing gown Daphne got her, before running down to presents. She had received a good amount of books and potion stuff, but her favorite was the yearly jewelry from Blaise. It was a silver charm bracelet with a few charms. A book for her love of reading, a snake for her house, a cauldron for her Potions, and a phoenix for her animagus form. She had also received jewelry to go with her dress for the Yule Ball from Mrs Malfoy.

They went out onto the grounds in the afternoon; the snow was untouched except for the deep channels made by the Durmstrang and Beauxbatons students on their way up to the castle. The girls left after a while to get ready.

"You need three hours?" asked Draco, before being hit by a snowball. There was no Christmas tea today, as the ball included a feast, so at seven o'clock, when it had become hard to aim properly, the others abandoned their snowball fight and trooped back to the common room.

Hermione meanwhile was in her room getting ready. Clear nail polish and straightened hair. She pulled her hair into a half ponytail before putting that in a bun, wrapping it with a golden hair ornament. In her right year she attached a golden earring that wrapped around it, but nothing in her left. Pansy did her makeup lightly, with yellow golden eyeshadow and light pink lipstick. Her cheeks were hollowed and blushed. Soon she slipped on the gown. It was amazing like a pillow. The only jewelry she wore were the earring and a golden necklace with a branched pendant on it. She walked down.

Draco was waiting for the girls, Theo already having left with Chastity. When Hermione came down he couldn't stop himself from gaping. She looked so amazing that he couldn't put it into words. Her dress was light yellow, like candlelight, with a tight bodice that exposed just a dash of cleavage. At the waist in spread out into two sets of ruffles, one on each side, with golden and pearl ornaments on the bottom. Her hair was in a golden bun, her ear adorned, and her face blushing softly. She was candlelight, and she only looked it more by the fact that her dress glowed softly.

"Bloody hell." Blaise whispered, staring at her. Hermione blushed before exiting. She had remained annoying and refused to tell them who her date was.

Daphne was in an amazing green gown that was halter neck style and a large golden belt adorned it, matching with her high golden heels. It was a grassy yellowish green, and with it she only wore a large golden necklace and a small pair of golden hoops. Her hair was in a French braid down her shoulder, and was dotted with green flowers.

Pansy was in a teal dress that had sparkles on the top, and flowed down. She wore high silver stilettos, a silver bracelet, and silver dangle earrings. Her hair was pulled into a high ponytail and set in with a silver comb, only highlighting her light teal eyeshadow, mascara, and dark red lips.

Draco entered the hall with her, taking his place near the front. Blaise came with him along with Theo. His date, Chastity, wore a silver gown with a large black belt(tied with a bow) and a short ruffled green skirt.

"Where's Hermione?" Draco asked.

"You'll see." Daphne smirked. She was the only one privy to the secret of who Hermione was going with.

Soon the champions entered. Diggory was with Chang, and Fleur Delacour was with Roger Davies, Ravenclaw. Then he saw who Viktor Krum was with. Hermione! Draco's jaw dropped and Daphne grinned. She looked beautiful, like candlelight. But she was with Krum! He barely noticed as Potter entered with Parvati Patil.

"Draco." Blaise cautioned, seeing the look on his face. "Don't do anything stupid."

Draco barely heard him.

Hermione was having a blast. She ate and danced with Viktor, laughing as he spun her around. She giggled as she went to get drinks. The night zoomed by like a flash, and Hermione could only remember flashes of it. The night ended when Hermione left with Viktor to go the gardens.

"How could you do this?" Draco asked her, appearing from nowhere. Pansy was trailing behind him looking alarmed and giving Hermione apologetic looks. "You're betraying us to the enemy!"

Hermione could have laughed. He was jealous. Of course. "Well guess what? I haven't told him a thing." she said coldly.

"Yeah right." he scoffed.

"I'll thank you to go away now." Hermione snapped, fighting away tears.

Draco was about to respond but Iliya and Natasha dragged him away. The two had left their dates early on, and were in matching red robes and dress.

"I'm sorry." Hermione said softly, wiping at her eyes. "I think I should leave now."

"I had a wonderful time Hermione." Viktor said gallantly, leaning low to kiss her hand. With a giggle Hermione walked away and got out of her clothes, collapsing to angry thoughts at Draco.

Hermione started avoiding Draco. She was angry with him, and he knew it. She mostly hung out with Daphne and her Bulgarian friends. After winter break Hermione had gone to COMC only to find Hagrid not there.

Snow was still thick upon the grounds, and the greenhouse windows were covered in condensation so thick that they couldn't see out of them in Herbology. Nobody was looking forward to Care of Magical Creatures much in this weather, though the skrewts would probably warm them up nicely, either by chasing them, or blasting off so forcefully that Hagrid's cabin would catch fire. She knew that Hagrid wouldn't be there because of an article Rita Skeeter had written.

DUMBLEDORE'S GIANT MISTAKE

By Rita Skeeter

Albus Dumbledore, eccentric Headmaster of Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, has never been afraid to make controversial staff appointments, writes Rita Skeeter, Special Correspondent. In September of this year, he hired Alastor "Mad-Eye" Moody, the notoriously jinx-happy ex-Auror, to teach Defense Against the Dark Arts, a decision that caused many raised eyebrows at the Ministry of Magic, given Moody's well-known habit of attacking anybody who makes a sudden movement in his presence. Mad-Eye Moody, however, looks responsible and kindly when set beside the part-human Dumbledore employs to teach Care of Magical Creatures.

Rubeus Hagrid, who admits to being expelled from Hogwarts in his third year, has enjoyed the position of gamekeeper at the school ever since, a job secured for him by Dumbledore. Last year, however, Hagrid used his mysterious influence over the headmaster to secure the additional post of Care of Magical Creatures teacher, over the heads of many better-qualified candidates.

An alarmingly large and ferocious-looking man, Hagrid has been using his newfound authority to terrify the students in his care with a succession of horrific creatures. While Dumbledore turns a blind eye, Hagrid has maimed several pupils during a series of lessons that many admit to being "very frightening."

'I was attacked by a hippogriff, and my friend Vincent Crabbe got a bad bite off a flobberworm," says Draco Malfoy, a fourth-year student. "We all hate Hagrid, but we're just too scared to say anything."

Hagrid has no intention of ceasing his campaign of intimidation, however. In conversation with a Daily Prophet reporter last month, he admitted breeding creatures he has dubbed "Blast-Ended Skrewts," highly dangerous crosses between manti-cores and fire-crabs. The creation of new breeds of magical creature is, of course, an activity usually closely observed by the Department for the Regulation and Control of Magical Creatures. Hagrid, however, considers himself to be above such petty restrictions.

"I was just having some fun," he says, before hastily changing the subject.

As if this were not enough, the Daily Prophet has now unearthed evidence that Hagrid is not - as he has always pretended - a pure-blood wizard. He is not, in fact, even pure human. His mother, we can exclusively reveal, is none other than the giantess Fridwulfa, whose whereabouts are currently unknown.

Bloodthirsty and brutal, the giants brought themselves to the point of extinction by warring amongst themselves during the last century. The handful that remained joined the ranks of He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named, and were responsible for some of the worst mass Muggle killings of his reign of terror.

While many of the giants who served He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named were killed by Aurors working against the Dark Side, Fridwulfa was not among them. It is possible she escaped to one of the giant communities still existing in foreign mountain ranges. If his antics during Care of Magical Creatures lessons are any guide, however, Frid-wulfa's son appears to have inherited her brutal nature.

In a bizarre twist, Hagrid is reputed to have developed a close friendship with the boy who brought around You-Know-Who's fall from power - thereby driving Hagrid's own mother, like the rest of You-Know-Who's supporters, into hiding. Perhaps Harry Potter is unaware of the unpleasant truth about his large friend - but Albus Dumbledore surely has a duty to ensure that Harry Potter, along with his fellow students, is warned about the dangers of associating with part-giants.

When they arrived at Hagrid 's cabin, however, they found an elderly witch with closely cropped gray hair and a very prominent chin standing before his front door.

"Hurry up, now, the bell rang five minutes ago," she barked at them as they struggled toward her through the snow. Hermione quickly cast a featherlight charm and floated across the snow. The other Slytherins followed..

"My name is Professor Grubbly-Plank," she said briskly. "I am your temporary Care of Magical Creatures teacher."

"Where's Hagrid?" Weasley asked.

"Indisposed." she said shortly. Hermione gave a small smirk to Daphne. Maybe now they would have a proper lesson!

"This way, please," said Professor Grubbly-Plank, and she strode off around the paddock where the Beauxbatons horses were shivering. Hermione cast some discreet warming charms on the Abraxans, watching as they straightened up and nickered at her softly.

She led them past the paddock where the huge Beauxbatons horses were standing, huddled against the cold, and toward a tree on the edge of the forest, where a large and beautiful unicorn was tethered.

Many of the girls "ooooohed!" at the sight of the unicorn. Hermione only stared, and through her animagus form she instinctively knew that it was a girl. The unicorn was so brightly white it made the snow all around look gray. It was pawing the ground nervously with its golden hooves and throwing back its horned head.

"He's scared!" Hermione exclaimed. "He shouldn't be chained up!"

"How else should we do a lesson?" the woman asked, and Hermione seethed, before stepping forward. The unicorn nickered softly, but Hermione slowly stepped forward, bowing carefully. She didn't know how, but she felt in her magic that it was alright now. Slowly she raised her hand to pet the unicorn, and before she knew it she was rubbing his flank. She rested her forehead against that of the unicorn, and closed her eyes.

Peace washed over her. Peace and happiness. All her worries slipped away. Hermione for once forgot about Draco, boy trouble, classes, and her Potions Mastery. She just breathed. She didn't notice the class staring at her before the girls reached to pet the unicorn. She didn't notice Draco staring at her either, something akin to sadness in his eyes. Regret

Draco couldn't believe it. She was bonding with a unicorn! And she looked so beautiful at that moment. None of the crinkle lines are anger on her pink, plump lips. She just looked peaceful with a small smile, her face glowing.

When class was over he stalked off, barely noticing Pansy, Crabbe, and Goyle chasing after him. He couldn't get the image of Hermione out of his head.

Hagrid eventually came back, much to Hermione's dismay. He continued the unicorn lessons, and one of the gold foals actually gave her a tail string. Hermione saw how pure it was and knew what to do. She raced up to the lab, and carefully dropped it in her potion at the end, stirring counter clockwise. Slowly, her potion darkened from yellow to a nearly blood red. This was it.

"PROFESSOR!" Hermione shrieked, running to him. "I DID IT!"

He walked out of the lab, pulled her in, and shut the door. "Stop squealing you foolish girl." he snapped. But Hermione wasn't deterred.

"I did it!" she said, her face shining. "Now I just need to test it!"

"What will it do?" he asked. "In details."

"It will calm the nerve damage from the Cruciatus Curse, and stop the internal bleeding. It is a heal all for nerves."

"Very well. Give it to me. I will test it." he said calmly.

Hermione waited in anticipation for nearly a week before he came to her again in the Great hall. "Congratulations Miss Granger. You have achieved your Potions Mastery."

Hermione was excited. So excited. This summer she would be going to the Board of Potion Masters to submit her Potions and become an apprentice to Snape. To become a full fledged member she would have to create 3 more Potions.

As Hermione paced the halls, thinking about her Potions, she was unable to notice the jet of red light that sped to her, stunning her.

When Hermione came to, she was in the water. She noticed that Viktor was keeping her afloat, that she was soaked, and that she was still in her robes from yesterday. She paused to look around herself. There were stands around her, with the students in them. She saw that the judges were there, so she concluded that this was part of the task.

Then fury overtook her. She barely noticed as she was dragged onto land and given a towel. She dryed herself easily, before stalking up to Dumbledore.

"What the hell?" she snarled. "Why was I not told about this? You stunned me and brought me here!"

The audience seemed stunned. Dumbledore gave her a patronizing smile. "I'm afraid I don't know what you are talking about."

Hermione gave him a small glare before walking off.

Draco was sitting in the stands with his father and mother, wondering where Hermione was. Then Bagman announced it. "Hello! Today we are here at the Second Task, and each champion has a hostage taken. They are under the Black Lake to be rescued. They were chosen based on who that person would miss the most. Mr Diggory will Rescue Cho Chang. Miss Delacour will rescue her sister Gabrielle Delacour. Mr Potter will rescue his best friend Ronald Weasley. Mr Krum will rescue Miss Hermione Granger!"

Draco could just gape. Hermione? That was who Krum would miss the most.

"Draco." came the icy voice of his father. " I was under the impression that when we invited Miss Granger into our home you would be giving her a betrothal gift. Now I find out that she has gone with a Mr Krum?"

Draco gulped.

_O_O_O_O_O_O_O

When the task was over he followed Hermione up the hill was she walked to the castle. "Hermione!" he called.

"Yes Draco?" she said. She looked tired as she sat down. He gulped before taking a seat.

"I'm sorry." he said, doing his best to look her in the eye. "I'm sorry for being a prat and not realizing how much I liked you and taking Pansy and not noticing and ruining your date for the Yule Ball." he said in a rush.

"Hmm?" she asked, cupping her ear in a motion to be louder.

"I'M SORRY!" he said loudly. Suddenly the trees around them burst into laughter and he saw his friends laughing at him. Noticing the devious glint in her eye he smirked, before grabbing her around the waist and kissing her soundly. That shut her giggles up, and he basked as she clutched him. Her lips were warm and soft. She smelt like vanilla, but best of all, she tasted like honey. She was his life. They clutched each other, not noticing when the rest of them trooped off, giving the lovers some space. The two were in their own world, consisting only of each other.

Hermione was in heaven. Draco was amazing. He smelt like peppermint and tasted like freshness. He was warm and she clutched him close, giving him entry to her lips when he traced them with his tongue. She was in heaven.

Chapter Text

Hermione was in heaven. Everything was going well. She had Draco, and Dumbledore Was in trouble thank to a wonderful article from Rita Skeeter.

Hogwarts Children in Danger?

By Rita Skeeter

Did you know that Dumbledore is endangering our children. Yesterday, in the Second Task of the Triwizard Tournament, 4 students were taken from Hogwarts and placed at the bottom of the Black Lake. Hermione Granger, Slytherin, Gabrielle Delacour, Beauxbatons, Ronald Weasley, Gryffindor, and Cho Chang, Ravenclaw. I talked to all the students and every single one of them was asked about becoming a hostage except for one- Miss Granger.

Is this again biased treatment against Slytherins?

Miss Granger says, "I was angry. All I remember is a red bolt of light, and next thing I know I'm in the lake soaking wet!"

Is Dumbledore really fit to take care of our children if he keeps endangering good Slytherins and even Gryffindors and Ravenclaws like that?

Dumbledore was facing backlash everywhere. He was probably going to have to pay Hermione a lawsuit, so when she was called up to his office, she wasn't surprised.

"Hello Miss Granger." he said, his eyes twinkling. "Lemon Drop?"

"No thank you." Hermione said, doing her best to remain polite.

"Miss Granger, I was hoping that you would consider calling off the lawsuit on me. I can't afford to pay it with my wage."

"You kidnapped me." Hermione said, unmoved. "Aren't headmasters not supposed to be biased against one house?"

"I'm not biased, but many of you are troublemakers." he argued.

"Like in my first year?" Hermione scoffed.

Then, for some reason, Hermione felt an attack on her mind. It was like someone was in her mind opening her books up and looking at the memories. She quickly shut her mindscape down, taking whoever that was out. What was that?

"You may go." Dumbledore said. Hermione quickly ran to Professor Snape.

"Professor?" she asked. "I was in a meeting with Headmaster Dumbledore, and for some reason it felt like someone was in my mindscape opening my books and reading my memories."

Professor Snape was shocked, and his face paled. Dumbledore was using Legilimency on her? Bastard.

"It is an art called Legilimency. It means to read the mind."

Hermione's face paled. "What!" she shrieked, in such a Lilyish manner that Snape could practically see Lily in front of him, her hair a flaming red. Painfully, he drew himself out of his memories. "The art of protecting your mind is Occlumency. I can teach it to you. You already know the basics through your meditation; now I will just hone your skill."

"Thank you sir!" she said excitedly before rushing out. Severus Snape sat down heavily, reaching for some Firewhiskey. He didn't know why he did this, but he did. He owed it to Lily. Severus Snape spent the night drowning himself in memories of the girl with hair that was fire.

Hermione was angry. "Potter won!" she shrieked at Theo, who winced before hiding behind Pansy. "Potter was last but he WON!"

"He's a Gryffindork." Blaise sighed. "Of course he won."

"Bloody nepotism." she snarled.

"It's alright." Draco said softly, pulling Hermione next to him and kissing her neck softly before she snuggled into him.

As they entered March the weather became drier, but cruel winds skinned their hands and faces every time they went out onto the grounds. There were delays in the post because the owls kept being blown off course. Hogsmeade was approaching.

Draco has asked Hermione to go with him, so Hermione was preparing for a date at Hogsmeade. She pulled on a long peach colored dress that went until her ankles, tied by a large brown belt with half sleeves. Her hair was braided by Daphne and her makeup was the same as usual.

"You look beautiful." Draco told her gallantly, kissing her lightly before pulling her away.

"Thank you." Hermione blushed, following him. The winding lane was leading them out into the wild countryside around Hogsmeade. The cottages were fewer here, and their gardens larger; they were walking toward the foot of the mountain in whose shadow Hogsmeade lay. Then they turned a corner and saw a tree at the end of the lane.

It was a giant weeping willow tree, and when Hermione walked in through the branches she couldn't help but gape. Fairy Lights lit up all the branches, and on a giant branch near the top there was a picnic basket. Hermione found it easy to climb the giant and winding branches, and soon they were at the top at the biggest.

"This is amazing." Hermione said softly. She picked a chocolate strawberry up, only to have it snatched away.

"Open up." Draco said with a sly grin, and rolling her eyes though secretly appreciating the romance she opened her mouth, letting the sweet and tangy strawberry in. They spent the afternoon like that, feeding each other, talking, and kissing.

Hermione only knew that if this was love, she never wanted it to go away.

"Have a nice date?" Blaise teased when they came back holding hands and grinning like fools.

"Better than you." Draco shot, slumping onto a couch with Hermione. Two minutes later he sat up. "I'm hungry."

Hermione stared at him incredulously. "We went through a basket of chocolate strawberries, sandwiches, and fruit and you're hungry?"

He had the grace to look ashamed. "Kitchen?"

With a sigh Hermione went with him to the kitchen, along with Daphne and Blaise. Following the instructions of an older student who owed Hermione for regrowing his bone when he broke it during Quidditch last year, they tickled the pear and walked in.

They were greeted with an unusual sight. There was crying house elf in stained blue clothes bawling her eyes out.. The others were bustling around.

"Oh!" they squealed. "Little miss and misters in here!"

Draco was quickly handed a chicken and he was content, but Hermione was concerned about the crying elf. "What's wrong with her?" she asked.

"Her old master abandoned hers he did, and nows she is very sad shes is." said the an elf.

"What's your name?" Hermione asked kindly, leaning down.

"I is Winky Missus." the elf sniffled.

"Why do you cry?" Hermione asked softly, taking the butterbeer bottle away from her.

"My master left me he dids. Winky dids a bad job she dids."

Hermione made a split second decision. There was no way she would just let this happen. "Would you like to become my house elf? I'm Hermione Granger." she asked kindly. All movement in the kitchen stopped.

The house elf, Winky looked at her with hopeful eyes. "Yes I woulds Missus. Winky is now Miss Grangee's elf she is. Winky is ashamed to be in such bad clothings she is." with a snap of her fingers Winky was in a freshly pressed green dress with black stars on it.

"Can you work in the kitchens until I need you?" Hermione asked. With a nod Winky went to work.

"That's it princess." Blaise laughed. "Save the world one good deed at a time."

Hermione smirked and walked back to the Common Room with them, grabbing some extra burn salve from the Potions Lab along the way.

A few days later Adrian Pucey ran into the common room. "The QUIDDITCH PITCH!" he shouted. The entire team stampeded out in a hurry, Hermione following at a slower pace with Theo, Daphne, Pansy, Crabbe, and Goyle. When she saw the pitch she froze. The Quidditch field was no longer smooth and flat. It looked as though somebody had been building long, low walls all over it that twisted and crisscrossed in every direction.

"Hedges." Theo muttered. Mounting a broom Draco flew up above the Pitch. When he landed he told them, "It's a maze. For the third task."

"Well that's rather obvious." she scoffed.

Soon the third task came. Hermione ran down to the stands early in the morning, grabbing nice seats. She had on a casual skirt and blouse. The rest of the gang followed, and soon Slytherin was there. Hufflepuff arrived next, then Gryffindor then Ravenclaw.

Then the task started. Hermione couldn't see anything again and she reflected on the stupidity of the event organizers. The task started, and the champions entered the maze. Hermione just read a book. Nearly an hour later Potter and Diggory appeared with a cup. The stands burst into cheers, but Hermione stayed silent. Didn't those idiots notice anything? Potter was sobbing and covered win blood, Diggory was unmoving, and Dumbledore looked scared.

Diggory ended up dead. That night, Hermione retched in the bin before smoothing herself out. She would not cry or cower at the sight of blood.

Hermione was reflecting on the past few weeks. The foreign students left. Viktor told her that he was happy they could attend the ball as friends, and though he already had a fiancee at home, he was available if she ever needed help. Pansy and Draco broke up on amicable terms, and though Pansy wished that it was meant to be, Draco was perfect with Hermione. She had now set her sights on Blaise.

Cedric Diggory's parents were in mourning. A boy was dead. If Hermione was honest to herself, he wa a good person in the end. A sacrifice she wouldn't regret, but he could have lived.

The only good thing to come out of his death was that Rita had written some articles on how Potter was a crazy, deranged person who killed Cedric himself and blamed it on the Dark Lord even though he was dead. Hermione knew better.

Hermione pulled herself out of her thoughts and looked around. The Great Hall was normally decorated with the winning House's colors for the Leaving Feast. Tonight, however, there were black drapes on the wall behind the teachers' table, as a mark of respect for Cedric Diggory.

The real Mad-Eye Moody was at the staff table now, his wooden leg and his magical eye back in place. He was extremely twitchy, jumping every time someone spoke to him. It turned out that the one teaching them was actually Barty Crouch Jr in disguise, and the real Moody was locked in a trunk the entire year. Rita had a scathing article on Dumbledore for not realizing it was Crouch.

Professor Dumbledore stood up at the staff table. The Great Hall, which in any case had been less noisy than it usually was at the Leaving Feast, became very quiet.

"The end," said Dumbledore, looking around at them all, "of another year."

He paused, and his eyes fell upon the Hufflepuff table. Theirs had been the most subdued table before he had gotten to his feet, and theirs were still the saddest and palest faces in the Hall.

"There is much that I would like to say to you all tonight," said Dumbledore, "but I must first acknowledge the loss of a very fine person, who should be sitting here," he gestured toward the Hufflepuffs, "enjoying our feast with us. I would like you all, please, to stand, and raise your glasses, to Cedric Diggory."

They did it, all of them; the benches scraped as everyone in the Hall stood, and raised their goblets, and echoed, in one loud, low, rumbling voice, "Cedric Diggory."

Even the Slytherins did it, for they all knew that even if he was a Puff, Diggory was an honorable person. Hermione saw Cho Chang crying silently at the Ravenclaw Table.

"Cedric was a person who exemplified many of the qualities that distinguish Hufflepuff house," Dumbledore continued. "He was a good and loyal friend, a hard worker, he valued fair play. His death has affected you all, whether you knew him well or not. I think that you have the right, therefore, to know exactly how it came about."

Hermione snapped her head up to look at Dumbledore. Was he really going to do this? No one would believe him. The only reason Hermione knew it was true was because Snape called her to his office and told her after their last Potions lesson.

"Cedric Diggory was murdered by Lord Voldemort."

A panicked whisper swept the Great Hall. People were staring at Dumbledore in disbelief, in horror. He looked perfectly calm as he watched them mutter themselves into silence.

"The Ministry of Magic," Dumbledore continued, "does not wish me to tell you this. It is possible that some of your parents will be horrified that I have done so - either because they will not believe that Lord Voldemort has returned, or because they think I should not tell you so, young as you are. It is my belief, however, that the truth is generally preferable to lies, and that any attempt to pretend that Cedric died as the result of an accident, or some sort of blunder of his own, is an insult to his memory."

"There is somebody else who must be mentioned in connection with Cedric's death," Dumbledore went on. "I am talking, of course, about Harry Potter." Hermione rolled her eyes. Bloody Potter again.

"Harry Potter managed to escape Lord Voldemort," said Dumbledore. "He risked his own life to return Cedric's body to Hogwarts. He showed, in every respect, the sort of bravery that few wizards have ever shown in facing Lord Voldemort, and for this, I honor him."

Dumbledore raised his goblet in salute to Harry. None of the Slytherins did likewise. When everyone had once again resumed their seats, Dumbledore continued, "The Triwizard Tournament's aim was to further and promote magical understanding. In the light of what has happened - of Lord Voldemort's return - such ties are more important than ever before."

"I urge every single one of you to stay in touch with your foreign friends. Your friendships will transcend borders and fight Voldemort by themselves, for if there is one thing he can not stand, it is Love."

Dumbledore paused to look around, and Hermione thought about what a moving speechwriter he was. If she didn't know that it was all bullshit she would have believed him. "I say to you all, once again - in the light of Lord Voldemort's return, we are only as strong as we are united, as weak as we are divided. Lord Voldemort's gift for spreading discord and enmity is very great. We can fight it only by showing an equally strong bond of friendship and trust. Differences of habit and language are nothing at all if our aims are identical and our hearts are open.

"It is my belief- and never have I so hoped that I am mistaken - that we are all facing dark and difficult times. Some of you in this Hall have already suffered directly at the hands of Lord Voldemort. Many of your families have been torn asunder. A week ago, a student was taken from our midst.

"Remember Cedric. Remember, if the time should come when you have to make a choice between what is right and what is easy, remember what happened to a boy who was good, and kind, and brave, because he strayed across the path of Lord Voldemort. Remember Cedric Diggory."

Hermione's trunk was soon packed, Artemis released to fly to Malfoy Manor. Hermione was clutching Crookshanks in her arms. The ginger cat had grown quite fat that year and Hermione was struggling to carry him, prompting Theo to snatch the beat from her.

The weather could not have been more different on the journey back to King's Cross than it had been on their way to Hogwarts the previous September. There wasn't a single cloud in the sky. The next year Draco would be second in command on the Quidditch Team and it would be his turn to learn how to be captain for his 6th.

Soon they were back at Kings Cross, waving to the Malfoys.

"BYE!" Hermione yelled to her friends as they walked away. She made for an odd sight- holding a giant fat cat with an owl perched on her shoulder.

"BYE HERMIONE!" they yelled, and heart soaring with joy, Hermione got ready for summer.

"Ready?" Draco asked her, taking her hand. The Malfoy's eyed them with approval.

"Ready." she said with a smile. And with that, they apparated away.

Chapter Text

Hermione was getting ready for the Summer Gala Miss Malfoy had told them, "Dress very well. We have a special guest."

By the look in her eye, Hermione could guess who that was. She pulled on a orange peach colored dress with a mock neck that was sheer until her cleavage, and ended at her knees. Her hair was loose and naturally curled, while she wore a pair of peach pumps. Her makeup was natural, with light pink lips and orange peach eyeshadow. Her earrings were golden hoops, and golden studs in the second piercing Pansy and Daphne convinced her to get.

Conversation in the side chamber was sparse because many had guessed who the guest was. Soon they were called in. Hermione walked in on Draco's hand, while Pansy came with Blaise and Daphne with Theo. All the boys wore identical black robes, and looked dashing.

Hermione sat down like always besides Draco, and their special guest came in. He was about 5'8, with thick black hair and pale skin. The only thing off setting about his was his pair of bright magenta eyes. Hermione stiffened; she thought she was prepared but she wasn't.

Their guest noticed that. "You know who I am?" he inquired. His voice was a smooth baritone.

Hermione nodded, and he gestured for her to continue. "Tom Marvolo Riddle, descended from the Gaunt Family. The Gaunts were direct heirs to Slytherin himself. Head Boy and Prefect for Slytherin. You caught Rubeus Hagrid petrifying students in your 5th year and had him expelled. He was a third year. After Hogwarts you graduated with perfect grades and went on to work at Borgin and Burkes. There you worked until you disappeared, appearing a few years later under the name of Lord Voldemort. You gathered the Knights of Walpurgis, now called Death Eaters, as a political group who wanted to kill muggles before they killed us. You offered muggleborns and alternative- abandon the muggle world or die. They then twisted the story against you calling you a madman, and you were unable to accomplish your goals by politics; thus you moved on the violent revolution."

"How on earth did you find all this?" Voldemort asked.

"I did research on who petrified me after I was awakened." she said.

"I see." he observed her, his eyes watching. Hermione saw a keen intellect in there. "What did they say about me?"

"Some called you crazy. A madman. Some called you evil."

To her surprise, Voldemort burst into deep laughter. "Where did you find this girl Lucius? No one has had the guts to call me crazy or evil to my face in a long time. It's refreshing from servile followers in the Outer Circle."

"She came home with Draco for Christmas in her first year and when she found the library gravitated towards the Dark Potions and Curses sections."

Soon the food was served, but everyone was nervous. Draco's hand shook while he ate, and Daphne knocked her wine glass over twice. They were allowed to have Elven Wine, as it was not too alcoholic. Soon, Voldemort, or Tom, as Hermione liked to call him, sighed. "I'm not going to kill her."

It felt as though the entire table breathed a sigh of relief. Hermione smiled inwardly.

"Sorry." Theo muttered. "We're just scared for our friend."

"As you have every right to be." he said. "But Miss Granger will prove to be useful in the future. Even Severus had nothing but good remarks about you."

The next day Hermione trudged down to breakfast, only cleaning herself up a little like her friends, before grabbing a cup of Lemon tea. After she got ready and went to the library like always, straight to the dark curses section. Hermione knew that if she was going to do this, she would have to work hard. The curses were interesting too. Entrail expelling. Blood boiling. Bone shattering. Aneurism hex.

"Those are dangerous books to read." a voice came, and Hermione spun around, wand in hand. She relaxed slightly when she found out that it was Voldemort, or Tom.

"Sir." said Hermione, bowing her head slightly.

"Call me Tom." he said. "Sir makes me feel old, which I already am." He gave a slight chuckle before sitting down next to her. Hermione reflected on the craziness of the situation. She was sitting next to the dark Lord. Having a civil conversation.

Then, she felt a slight tingling in her mind. Quickly she locked all her books and shut down her library, effectively removing the intruder. Tom raised an eyebrow. "You are versed in the mind arts?"

"I had to develop my mindscape so I could transform into my animagus. I started practicing Occlumency when Dumbledore tried reading my mind during a meeting. I still ended up pushing my lawsuit through, and he lost his position in the ICW."

"You have done a lot to unseat Dumbledore. Something that I am proud of."

Hermione gave a small shrug. "I don't like him much. He's completely biased towards the Gryffindors, and seems to think that being Slytherin makes you inherently evil."

"That he does." Tom said mildly. "I came here for a bigger reason then to make small talk though."

"Yes?" she asked.

"I want to give you a symbol of my side. You won't be marked; I don't mark females. Bellatrix is the only marked female. I will give you a symbol. I heard that you have a charm bracelet?"

Hermione held out her wrist, on which sat the silver bracelet. He looked at the charms, and Hermione saw him raise his eyebrow at the phoenix; he said nothing. With a wave of his wand a new charm appeared. Hermione noticed that it was in the shape of a dress. "This will look like a Dark Mark to any of my death eaters. You can will it to revert to it's true form, and even Dumbledore won't be able to sense it."
"Why a dress?" Hermione asked, scrunching her nose.

"I thought that you liked dressing up." he said, but Hermione saw the small smirk on his face.

"It's lame." Hermione pouted, before grinning.

"Now onto my other matter of business- I want to see your animagus form."

With a small smirk Hermione shrank down and opened her wings. With a loud CAW she soared up through the library, landing on the table. She cocked her head to the side, staring at Tom, who was barely disguising his awe at seeing a real thunder phoenix. Carefully she transformed with a jump back onto her chair.

"A thunder phoenix." he murmured.

"I use the tears in the Potion I made for my Mastery. I call it the Cruciatus Potion. I chose it because I enjoy Healing."

"Healing will be useful in the war." he said. "Good day."

Hermione was at the Conference. The Board of Potions Masters, the BPM, was meeting. She saw many other girls and boys, all in fancy clothing. She wore a black pencil skirt and a peach pink blouse. Around her neck was a thin golden necklace, and her hair was charmed to one side. She watched nervously as other kids were called in. They all left looking nervous.

"Hermione Granger and Severus Snape." called a strict looking woman. Hermione gulped, smoothed her hair down, and walked in.

The room was large and dark, with a panel of 19 judges up front. Hermione recognized the creators of Amortentia and Wolfsbane up on the panel. They looked down at her strictly.

"Explain your potion." said a man with a high reedy voice.

"My potion is a healing potion targeting the Cruciatus Curse." she said nervously, before clearing her throat. "It calms the nerves and heals internal bleeding- the two main reactants of this Unforgivable."

The panel looked down at her with a murmur. "Ingredients?" said another man with a deeper voice.

"Boomslang, Water from the river Lethe, Freely given Unicorn tail strand, salamander blood, pomegranate juice and thunder phoenix tears." Hermione recited.

There was a louder murmur at this, for it was well known that it was hard to get Freely given unicorn tail strand, and even harder to get thunder phoenix tears.

"How did you procure the Unicorn Tail?" a woman asked.

"During our Care of Magical Creatures Class we were interacting with unicorns and a unicorn bonded with me in a way, he trusted me enough to give me the tail strand." There were a few impressed looks at that.

"And the thunder phoenix tears?" the woman inquired.

Hermione looked at them. "I need a Vow from all of you not to spill this secret of mine, or harm me for it."

The Vows were taken. Hermione, choosing not to talk, turned into her animagus form. With a bright caw she disappeared in a flash of thunder and reappeared at the other end of the room, trilling in amusement at the judges shocked faces before turning back and smoothing her skirt out.

"Very impressive." said the man with the reedy voice. "Now, how did you test it?"

Professor Snape stepped forward. "I used the Cruciatus on a cat. It is not against the law as long as it is not used against another human, and I did it with the help of a colleague. After administering the potion and checking to body vitals, the cat had been fully healed expect for a little weakness."

There were some dubious looks, but they continued. "Why do you vouch for this girl?" another blonde woman asked.

"She is smart. I have been tutoring her in Potions since her first year after she masterfully altered a recipe on her first brewing, and since then she has flourished. She got an O on her NEWT when I had her take it early last year, and has made this potion entirely on her own. I believe that she has the creativity to do what is necessary."

After a small debate, the members turned to her. In this time Hermione had been nervously twisting a strand of her hair. Snape stood still. The main man with the deep voice turned to her. "Congratulations Miss Granger. You are now the Potions Apprentice to Master Snape. You will have to create 3 potions to become a master. Good Luck."

Hermione's heart filled with elation. She did it! She had her Potions Apprenticeship at 15! They walked out, and reached the apparition point before apparating away. When they reached the manor Hermione squaled in exhilaration before launching herself into Draco's arms. She had been holding her excitement back. "I did it I did it I did it I did it I did it I did it-"

"Hush." Professor Snape said with a small smirk on his face. He bowed to Tom, who had entered the room. Hermione spun around quickly and bowed too as did the other Malfoy's.

"What happened?" Mrs Malfoy asked.

"I did it!" she squealed. "They ratified my apprenticeship. Now I need to make 3 potions to become a master!"

"Have you thought about what you will work on next?" Tom asked with a small tilt to his head.

"I want to create a potion that will create a temporary doorway in a person's wards without alerting the owners so that people can sneak in unnoticed." Hermione said.

"It's wonderful." grinned Draco as Tom left the room, kissing her happily. Hermione knelt in, but they were interrupted by a soft cough. With pink cheeks, Hermione and Draco left the room.

"WHAT!" Hermione shrieked.

"I know." Draco snarled.

"Let me get this straight." Daphne said. She had come over to hang out. "Potter used the patronus charm in a muggle area and then used to excuse of a dementor to get free! Scotch free!"

"It's Potter." Hermione chuckled bitterly. "What did you expect?"

"Nothing more." Draco groaned.

"Did you hear?" said Pansy. "The Ministry is going to appoint a new DADA teacher."

"Father says that it's going to be Umbridge." Draco said.

"As if." Hermione scowled. "That pink toad is a fucking idiot."

"The Ministry is full of idiots." Pansy laughed.

"It's our booklists!" Hermione said excitedly.

"Bloody hell." Draco said quietly. He was looking at a golden badge with a P on it. He was a prefect. "Hermione, that means that you're a prefect too! You have to be!"

Hermione checked her envelope, but there was nothing in it. "No." she said, rather distantly. She had thought that she would be a prefect! She had amazing grades and a clean record!

"You deserved it." Draco assured her, kissing her cheek.

"OWL year." Hermione muttered, fingering her dark mark charm.

"It's so different." Daphne agreed.

"We're not innocent anymore." Theo said. And with that, they boarded to train to Hogwarts. When the went to sit down in the usual compartment, they found a pretty blonde girl in it. She had curly, waist length dirty blonde hair, pale eyebrows and skin, and protuberant blue eyes that looked like a washed out color of blue.

"I'm Luna." she said in a slightly dreamy, but musical voice. "Luna Lovegood, Ravenclaw. I believe Harry Potter, but I know that the Dark Lord isn't evil. Not enough Nargles hover around him. The headmaster has more than him, making the headmaster more evil."

"Are you crazy?" Theo asked in slight disbelief.

"You're just as sane as I am." she said calmly, going back to reading the Quibbler upside down. Hermione rather liked her. She seemed like a calm girl.

"Who;s the new girl?" Blaise asked as he plonked himself next to her, wiggling his eyebrows.

"You're surrounded by billywigs." she said to him. "They're creatures of a sexual nature that make on very handsome." The entire carriage was silent.

"I like her!" Blaise exclaimed. Hermione smirked at the girl. She had no idea what she had gotten herself into.

"You're Hermione Granger." Luna said, turning to look at her. "You're dating Draco Malfoy, and you're friends with Pansy Parkinson and Daphne Greengrass. Theodore Nott used to have a crush on you but he got over it and is now in love with Daphne, who loves him back but doesn't know it."

They all stared at her. "The Lillypogs tell me about the future." she said simply. Hermione couldn't believe it. A real seer! And not a garbage one like Trelawny.

"Guess what?" Pansy said in an excited voice as she entered.

"Chicken utt." they all chorused except for Luna.

"No." she scowled. "I made prefect!"

Hermione couldn't believe it. She had wanted to be one! Now Pansy would get it. Hermione didn't usually get jealous, but she couldn't help herself. She restrained herself, and dived into her book. When the two came back from the meeting Hermione had locked all her jealousy in a trunk in her mindscape and was able to talk to them.

"Who were the prefects?" she asked.

"Moon and Weasley for Gryffindor." Pansy said.

"Hannah Abbot and Ernie MacMillan for Hufflepuff. Anthony Goldstein and Padma Patil for Ravenclaw." said Draco.

"Urgh." Daphne said, making a face. "MacMillan is such a prat."

The entire ride was spent talking about the future. No more lively games or Quidditch Strategies. They had grown up. Hermione was researching for her potion. She had found out that the wards operated on magic, so if she removed the magic in a certain area a person could walk in through the wards without being detected; however, the owner would know. She wanted it undetectable.

Soon they reached Hogwarts. Hermione rode into the castle and giggled as Flora and Hestia bribed Peeves into attacking the Gryffindors with water balloons. The Entrance Hall was ablaze with torches and echoing with footsteps as the students crossed the flagged stone floor for the double doors to the right, leading to the Great Hall and the start-of-term feast.

The four long house tables in the Great Hall were filling up under the starless black ceiling, which was just like the sky they could glimpse through the high windows. Candles floated in midair all along the tables, illuminating the silvery ghosts who were dotted about the Hall and the faces of the students talking eagerly, exchanging summer news, shouting greetings at friends from other houses, eyeing one another's new haircuts and robes.

"Can you believe that Grubbly Plank is back?" Pansy giggled.

"Thank god that oaf is gone." Draco groaned. Luna had drifted away to the Ravenclaw table, but Hermione noticed that no one was sitting with her, and Hermione even saw a girl throw a jinx at her. It bounced off a shield Hermione hadn't seen her make, but the quick reaction made Hermione believe that this happened a lot. Her own house!

Hermione dragged her eyes away to examine the staff table. They lit first upon Professor Dumbledore, sitting in his high-backed golden chair at the centre of the long staff table, wearing deep-purple robes scattered with silvery stars and a matching hat. Dumbledore's head was inclined towards the woman sitting next to him, who was talking into his ear. She looked, Hermione thought, like somebody's maiden aunt: squat, with short, curly, mouse-brown hair in which she had placed a horrible pink Alice band that matched the fluffy pink cardigan she wore over her robes. Then she turned her face slightly to take a sip from her goblet and she saw a pallid, toadlike face and a pair of prominent, pouchy eyes.

"I can't believe Umbridge actually became the DADA teacher." Pansy groaned. "I was joking over summer!"

"She has horrible fashion sense." said Daphne with a curl of her lip.

Professor Grubbly Plank took a seat at the staff table where Hagrid usually sat. That meant the first-years must have crossed the lake and reached the castle, and sure enough, a few seconds later, the doors from the Entrance Hall opened. A long line of scared-looking first-years entered, led by Professor McGonagall, who was carrying a stool on which sat an ancient wizards hat, heavily patched and darned with a wide rip near the frayed brim.

The buzz of talk in the Great Hall faded away. The first-years lined up in front of the staff table facing the rest of the students, and Professor McGonagall placed the stool carefully in front of them, then stood back.

The whole school waited with bated breath. Then the rip near the hat's brim opened wide like a mouth and the Sorting Hat burst into song:

In times of old when I was new

And Hogwarts barely started

The founders of our noble school

Thought never to be parted:

United by a common goal,

They had the selfsame yearning,

To make the world's best magic school

And pass along their learning.

'Together we will build and teach!'

The four good friends decided

And never did they dream that they

Might some day be divided,

For were there such friends anywhere

As Slytherin and Gryffindor?

Unless it was the second pair

Of Hufflepuff and Ravenclaw?

So how could it have gone so wrong?

How could such friendships fail?

Why, I was there and so can tell

The whole sad, sorry tale.

Said Slytherin, 'We'll teach just those

Whose ancestry is purest.'

Said Ravenclaw, 'We'll teach those whose

Intelligence is surest. '

Said Gryffindor, 'We'll teach all those

With brave deeds to their name, '

Said Hufflepuff, 'I'll teach the lot,

And treat them just the same. '

These differences caused little strife

When first they came to light,

For each of the four founders had

A house in which they might

Take only those they wanted, so,

For instance, Slytherin

Took only pure-blood wizards

Of great cunning, just like him,

And only those of sharpest mind

Were taught by Ravenclaw

While the bravest and the boldest

Went to daring Gryffindor.

Good Hufflepuff, she took the rest,

And taught them all she knew,

Thus the houses and their founders

Retained friendships firm and true.

So Hogwarts worked in harmony

For several happy years,

But then discord crept among us

Feeding on our faults and fears.

The houses that, like pillars four,

Had once held up our school,

Now turned upon each other and,

Divided, sought to rule.

And for a while it seemed the school

Must meet an early end,

What with duelling and with fighting

And the clash of friend on friend

And at last there came morning

When old Slytherin departed

And though the fighting then died out

He left us quite downhearted.

And never since the founders four

Were whittled down to three

Have the houses been united

As they once were meant to be.

And now the Sorting Hat is here

And you all know the score:

I sort you into houses

Because that is what I'm for,

But this year I'll go further,

Listen closely to my song:

Though condemned I am to split you

Still I worry that it's wrong,

Though I must fulfil my duty

And must quarter every year

Still I wonder whether Sorting

May not bring the end I fear.

Oh, know the perils, read the signs,

The warning history shows,

For our Hogwarts is in danger

From external, deadly foes

And we must unite inside her

Or we'll crumble from within

I have told you, I have warned you ...

Let the Sorting now begin.

"Branched out quite a bit." Blaise muttered. Hermione went over the song in her head. It was a warning. Telling them to unite or darkness would win. She scoffed. Stupid hat. Even it was against Slytherins. The hall was filled with whispering as they debated the new song. But Professor McGonagall, who was waiting to read out the list of first-years' names, was giving the whispering students the sort of look that scorches. With a last frowning look that swept the four house tables, Professor McGonagall lowered her eyes to her long piece of parchment and called out the first name.

'Abercrombie, Euan. A terrified looking boy stumbled up and the hat was placed on his head; it was only stopped from flopping down by his prominent ears.

The Hat considered for a moment, then the rip near the brim opened again and shouted:

'Gryffindor!'

Slowly, the long line of first-years thinned. In the pauses between the names and the Sorting Hat's decisions, Hermione could hear Goyle's stomach rumbling loudly. Finally, 'Zeller, Rose' was Sorted into Hufflepuff, and Professor McGonagall picked up the Hat and stool and marched them away as Professor Dumbledore rose to his feet.

'To our newcomers,' said Dumbledore in a ringing voice, his arms stretched wide and a beaming smile on his lips, 'welcome! To our old hands-welcome back! There is a time for speech-making, but this is not it. Tuck in!'

There was an appreciative laugh and an outbreak of applause as Dumbledore sat down neatly and threw his long beard over his shoulder so as to keep it out of the way of his plate-for food had appeared out of nowhere, so that the five long tables were groaning under joints and pies and dishes of vegetables, bread and sauces and flagons of pumpkin juice.

"Coot." Flora muttered.

"How's NEWT year gonna be?" Daphne asked.

"Hard." Hestia scowled. "The books for DADA don't help either; they're a load of bullshit."

When all the students had finished eating and the noise level in the Hall was starting to creep upwards again, Dumbledore got to his feet once more. Talking ceased immediately as all turned to face the Headmaster.

'Well, now that we are all digesting another magnificent feast, I beg a few moments of your attention for the usual start-of-term notices,' said Dumbledore. 'First-years ought to know that the Forest in the grounds is out-of-bounds to students-and a few of our older students ought to know by now, too.'

'Mr. Filch, the caretaker, has asked me, for what he tells me is the four-hundred-and-sixty-second time, to remind you all that magic is not permitted in corridors between classes, nor are a number of other things, all of which can be checked on the extensive list now fastened to Mr. Filch's office door.

Hermione scoffed. No one ever listened to that list.

'We have had two changes in staffing this year. We are very pleased to welcome back Professor Grubbly-Plank, who will be taking Care of Magical Creatures lessons; we are also delighted to introduce Professor Umbridge, our new Defence Against the Dark Arts teacher.'

Dumbledore continued, 'Tryouts for the house Quidditch teams will take place on the-'

He broke off, looking enquiringly at Professor Umbridge. As she was not much taller standing than sitting, there was a moment when nobody understood why Dumbledore had stopped talking, but then Professor Umbridge cleared her throat, 'Hem, hem,' and it became clear that she had got to her feet and was intending to make a speech.

Dumbledore only looked taken aback for a moment, then he sat down smartly and looked alertly at Professor Umbridge as though he desired nothing better than to listen to her talk. Other members of staff were not as adept at hiding their surprise. Professor Sprout's eyebrows had disappeared into her flyaway hair and Professor McGonagall's mouth was as thin as Hermione had ever seen it. No new teacher had ever interrupted Dumbledore before. Many of the students were smirking; this woman obviously did not know how things were done at Hogwarts.

'Thank you, Headmaster,' Professor Umbridge simpered, 'for those kind words of welcome.'

Hermione decided that she hated her voice. It was like someone had added to much syrup to a cough drop with a hint of evil.

'Well, it is lovely to be back at Hogwarts, I must say!' She smiled, revealing very pointed teeth. 'And to see such happy little faces looking up at me!'

'I am very much looking forward to getting to know you all and I'm sure we'll be very good friends!'

Students exchanged looks at this; some of them were barely concealing grins.

Professor Umbridge cleared her throat again ('hem, hem'), but when she continued, some of the breathiness had vanished from her voice. She sounded much more businesslike and now her words had a dull learned-by-heart sound to them.

The Ministry of Magic has always considered the education of young witches and wizards to be of vital importance. The rare gifts with which you were born may come to nothing if not nurtured and honed by careful instruction. The ancient skills unique to the wizarding community must be passed down the generations lest we lose them for ever. The treasure trove of magical knowledge amassed by our ancestors must be guarded, replenished and polished by those who have been called to the noble profession of teaching.'

Professor Umbridge paused here and made a little bow to her fellow staff members, none of whom bowed back to her. Professor McGonagall's dark eyebrows had contracted so that she looked positively hawklike, and Hermione distinctly saw her exchange a significant glance with Professor Sprout as Umbridge gave another little 'hem, hem' and went on with her speech.

'Every headmaster and headmistress of Hogwarts has brought something new to the weighty task of governing this historic school, and that is as it should be, for without progress there will be stagnation and decay. There again, progress for progress's sake must be discouraged, for our tried and tested traditions often require no tinkering. A balance, then, between old and new, between permanence and change, between tradition and innovation ...'

'... because some changes will be for the better, while others will come, in the fullness of time, to be recognised as errors of judgement. Meanwhile, some old habits will be retained, and rightly so, whereas others, outmoded and outworn, must be abandoned. Let us move forward, then, into a new era of openness, effectiveness and accountability, intent on preserving what ought to be preserved, perfecting what needs to be perfected, and pruning wherever we find practices that ought to be prohibited.'

She sat down. Dumbledore clapped. The staff followed his lead, though most of them just clapped once or twice before stopping.

"Well that was illuminating." Hermione said under her breath, quoting Dumbledore.

"You understood that?" Draco looked apalled.

"It means that change is coming to Hogwarts. It will hinder our progress, and won't be good." Hermione said grimly. Dark Times were coming to Hogwarts.

Chapter Text

Hermione was going to class. It was really hard to keep her trunk of jealousy locked up. She had again felt it's sting when she saw them direct the firsties to the common room and tell the password, "Power" before talking to them. Damn it! She had wanted to be a prefect! Hermione vowed to ask Professor Snape about it.

"Guess who's the captain?" asked Bletchely.

"You." Draco drawled. "I'm assistant in training I presume?"

"No one else." he grinned, flipping his floppy black locks over his shoulder.

"Have you got the new members?"

"Try outs were over summer at my place. We're introducing Peter Richmond as the third chaser with me and Montague. Terrence Higgs and a new guy Yuriko Hanego will be the other beaters. Keeper's going to be Willa Davis. She's a girl, but damn can she fly." he grinned.

With a whoosh and a clatter, hundreds of owls came soaring in through the upper windows. They descended all over the Hall, bringing letters and packages to their owners and showering the breakfasters with droplets of water; it was clearly raining hard outside. Artemis came flying in with a letter from Viktor; Hermione grinned. They were going to keep in touch.

Dear Hermione,

How are you? Did it all work out with your friend Malfoy? I have written you to ask to if you would like to attend my wedding. I am marrying my fiancee Ana Reynol, and she thought that you would like to come. You can bring Mr Malfoy as your plus 1, but I will demand a dance. It is on the 23 of December. This letter is a Portkey set for that day at 9 o'clock in the morning.

Your friend,

Viktor

"Draco?" Hermione asked, sneaking her hand up his shoulder, and listening as his breathing increased. "How would you feel about attending a wedding?"

"Who's?" he asked.

"Viktor's." she said.

"Awesome!" he gushed, and Hermione could see his Quidditch Geek coming out.

Dear Viktor,

I would love to attend, as would Draco. We can't wait.

Love,

Hermione

"Damn." Blaise groaned as he examined the schedule. "History of Magic is first."

"You forgot that we have Potions with Gryffindors." Daphne said grimly.

"Why would they pair the best potionmakers with the class that blows the most cauldrons up in an art where one drop can result in death?" Hermione grumbled.

"They're idiots." Pansy said wisely.

History of Magic was by common consent the most boring subject ever devised by wizardkind. Professor Binns, their ghost teacher, had a wheezy, droning voice that was almost guaranteed to cause severe drowsiness within ten minutes, five in warm weather. He never varied the form of their lessons, but lectured them without pausing while they took notes, or rather, gazed sleepily into space. The only reason any Slytherin passed was because they had notes passed down from 2 centuries ago when the classes were proper, and copies of the old test questions. Today, they suffered an hour and a half's droning on the subject of giant wars. Hermione chose to read about her Ward Potion.

"Come on." Daphne groaned. "To the Courtyard!"

A fine misty drizzle was falling, so that the people standing in huddles around the edges of the yard looked blurred at the edges. Hermione cast the new umbrella charm, and they stood under warming charms in thick robes, talking about potions. Soon the bell rang and they went down to Potions.

'Settle down,' said Snape coldly, shutting the door behind him.

There was no real need for the call to order; the moment the class had heard the door close, quiet had fallen and all fidgeting stopped. Snape's mere presence was usually enough to ensure a class's silence.

'Before we begin today's lesson,' said Snape, sweeping over to his desk and staring around at them all, 'I think it appropriate to remind you that next June you will be sitting an important examination, during which you will prove how much you have learned about the composition and use of magical potions. Moronic though some of this class undoubtedly are, I expect you to scrape an "Acceptable" in your OWL, or suffer my ... displeasure.'

His gaze lingered this time on Neville Longbottom, who gulped.

'After this year, of course, many of you will cease studying with me,' Snape went on. 'I take only the very best into my NEWT Potions class, which means that some of us will certainly be saying goodbye.'

'But we have another year to go before that happy moment of farewell,' said Snape softly, 'so, whether or not you are intending to attempt NEWT, I advise all of you to concentrate your efforts upon maintaining the high pass level I have come to expect from my OWL students.

'Today we will be mixing a potion that often comes up at Ordinary Wizarding Level: the Draught of Peace, a potion to calm anxiety and soothe agitation. Be warned: if you are too heavy-handed with the ingredients you will put the drinker into a heavy and sometimes irreversible sleep, so you will need to pay close attention to what you are doing.'

Hermione went back to her research, pulling her ingredients and parchment out.

"Why isn't she brewing?" Weasley complained.

"Must we go over this again Weasel?" Hermione sighed. "I passed my OWLS, NEWTS, and I got my apprenticeship. I need to work for my Mastery, and spending time brewing laughably easy potions is a waste of it." he glared at her.

'A light silver vapour should now be rising from your potion,' called Snape, with ten minutes left to go. All the Slytherins were doing well because Hermione had writen all her adjustments to the potion recipes down and copied them into new books. She had done that for every year, and now all Slytherins used them.

'Potter, what is this supposed to be?'

The Slytherins at the front of the class all looked up eagerly; they loved hearing Snape taunt Potter.

'The Draught of Peace,' said Potter tensely.

'Tell me, Potter,' said Snape softly, 'can you read?'

Draco laughed, and Pansy snickered softly too.

'Yes, I can,' said Potter.

'Read the third line of the instructions for me, Potter.'

'"Add powdered moonstone, stir three times counter-clockwise, allow to simmer for seven minutes then add two drops of syrup of hellebore." '

Hermione smirked. He had not added syrup of hellebore, but had proceeded straight to the fourth line of the instructions after allowing his potion to simmer for seven minutes. She had made that very mistake once, and had proceeded to get yelled at for ten minutes by Professor Snape. He was harsh but just.

'Did you do everything on the third line, Potter?'

Potter said something quietly.

'I beg your pardon?'

'No,' said Potter, more loudly. 'I forgot the hellebore.'

'I know you did, Potter, which means that this mess is utterly worthless. Evanesce.'

The contents of Potter's potion vanished; he was left standing foolishly beside an empty cauldron.

'Those of you who have managed to read the instructions, fill one flagon with a sample of your potion, label it clearly with your name and bring it up to my desk for testing,' said Snape. 'Homework: twelve inches of parchment on the properties of moonstone and its uses in potion-making, to be handed in on Thursday.'

"That was fun!" Theo said cheerfully as they ate lunch after electives.

"Watching Potter get chewed out is always fun." said Blaise sagely.

"We have way too much homework." Crabbe groaned.

"Uh huh!" Draco nodded. "A month's dream journal for divination, and the essay for potions!"

"I have none of those." Hermione said smugly. "All I have to do is bring in an example of runes in real life, so I'm taking my wand to class. It has magical runes inscribed on it."

"You get all the easy stuff." Blaise grumbled. Hermione smirked.

"Damn." Daphne muttered. "We have DADA with the Gryffindorks and the Pink Toad."

Hermione snickered. "Excellent nickname." she praised. Soon they were trooping off. When they entered the Defence Against the Dark Arts classroom they found Professor Umbridge already seated at the teachers desk, wearing the fluffy pink cardigan of the night before and the black velvet bow on top of her head.

The class was quiet as it entered the room; Professor Umbridge was, as yet, an unknown quantity and nobody knew how strict a disciplinarian she was likely to be.

'Well, good afternoon!' she said, when finally the whole class had sat down.

A few people mumbled 'good afternoon' in reply.

'Tut, tut,' said Professor Umbridge. 'That won't do, now, will it? I should like you, please, to reply "Good afternoon, Professor Umbridge". One more time, please. Good afternoon, class!'

'Good afternoon, Professor Umbridge,' they chanted back at her.

"Does she think we're 5?" Pansy muttered.

'There, now,' said Professor Umbridge sweetly. That wasn't too difficult, was it? Wands away and quills out, please.'

Many of the class exchanged gloomy looks; the order 'wands away' had never yet been followed by a lesson they had found interesting.

Professor Umbridge opened her handbag, extracted her own wand, which was an unusually short one, and tapped the blackboard sharply with it; words appeared on the board at once:

Defence Against the Dark Arts

A Return to Basic Principles

'Well now, your teaching in this subject has been rather disrupted and fragmented, hasn't it?' stated Professor Umbridge, turning to face the class with her hands clasped neatly in front of her. The constant changing of teachers, many of whom do not seem to have followed any Ministry-approved curriculum, has unfortunately resulted in your being far below the standard we would expect to see in your OWL year.

'You will be pleased to know, however, that these problems are now to be rectified. We will be following a carefully structured, theory-centred, Ministry-approved course of defensive magic this year. Copy down the following, please.'

She rapped the blackboard again; the first message vanished and was replaced by:

Course Aims:

1. Understanding the principles underlying defensive magic.

2. Learning to recognise situations in which defensive magic can legally be used

3. Placing the use of defensive magic in a context for practical use.

Hermione squinted at the board. It literally said that all the defensive magic should be in context only. That was so stupid.

For a couple of minutes the room was full of the sound of scratching quills on parchment. When everyone had copied down Professor Umbridge's three course aims she asked, 'Has everybody got a copy of Defensive Magical Theory by Wilbert Slinkhard?'

There was a dull murmur of assent throughout the class.

'I think we'll try that again,' said Professor Umbridge. 'When I ask you a question, I should like you to reply, "Yes, Professor Umbridge", or "No, Professor Umbridge". So: has everyone got a copy of Defensive Magical Theory by Wilbert Slinkhard?'

'Yes, Professor Umbridge,' rang through the room.

'Good,' said Professor Umbridge. 'I should like you to turn to page five and read "Chapter One, Basics for Beginners". There will be no need to talk.'

Hermione chose not to read the book but raised her hand. She had read the entire thing, and found it the most boring dullest thing ever. After a few minutes Umbridge had to stop ignoring her.

When more than half the class were staring at Hermione rather than at their books, Professor Umbridge seemed to decide that she could ignore the situation no longer.

'Did you want to ask something about the chapter, dear?' she asked Hermione, as though she had only just noticed her.

'Not about the chapter, no,' said Hermione.

'Well, we're reading just now,' said Professor Umbridge, showing her small pointed teeth. 'If you have other queries we can deal with them at the end of class.'

"I have a query about what I should do. I read the entire book over summer, and I noticed that nowhere does it say that we should use magic. Many of the spells will come up in our OWLS, and many of us need to practice them in a safe, secure environment at least once to get the hang of the spell."

"Your name?" she asked.

"Hermione Granger."

"Well Miss Granger, it is not up to you to decide what will be taught. I applaud your vigilance in reading the book beforehand, and I suggest that you work for other classes or complete your homework. If you study the context enough you should get the hang of it well enough for your OWL."

'We're not going to use magic?' Weasley exclaimed loudly.

'Students raise their hands when they wish to speak in my class, Mr.-?'

'Weasley,' said Weasley, thrusting his hand into the air.

"Surely the whole point of Defense is to practice these spells? I'm Lily Moon." said Lily Moon, raising her hand.

'Are you a Ministry-trained educational expert, Miss Granger?' asked Professor Umbridge, in her falsely sweet voice.

'No, but-'

'Well then, I'm afraid you are not qualified to decide what the "whole point" of any class is. Wizards much older and cleverer than you have devised our new programme of study. You will be learning about defensive spells in a secure, risk-free way-'

'What use is that?' said Harry loudly. 'If we're going to be attacked, it won't be in a-'

'Hand,Mr Potter!' sang Professor Umbridge.

Ten minutes later Potter had detention, and Hermione was being high-fived for starting all the ruckus. This was fun. Potter had been stupid enough to bring up the Dark Lord and Cedric Diggory.

"We're going to have to do something." Hermione told the Head Boy Will Pritchard, big brother to Graham Pritchard. "All the Slytherins will fail their exams!"

"An House Study Group." said Pansy. "We will assign groups, and the older students will teach the younger ones in DADA. I can write father and have him send me basic DADA books for all the years."

"As can I." Draco said.

"As can I." Theo said.

"We'll all pitch in." said Flora, her twin Hestia nodding in agreement.

"Slytherin's Magic." said 6th year prefect Adelaide Murton. "The SA."

"It's perfect." Hermione smirked.

And so the classes started. They had expanded it to make an all subject study group. Hermione was in charge of Potions. Adelaide was in charge of Ancient Runes. Chastity Knight worked with Charms, since she was also working on her Mastery in it. They had shipped the books home, and every single Slytherin had read through their entire Ministry assigned book, giving them time to read the other books. Jinxes for the Jinxed, Hexes for the Hexed, Your basic Magical Defense Charms, and Magic at it's best were just some of them.

"Can't we include Luna?" Hermione asked after a few classes. "All the Ravenclaws hate her and call her Loony. She's completely alone."

"Her own house?" said Willa Davis, younger sister of Tracy Davis.

"Bring her in." said Will Pritchard.

Luna turned out to be amazing at illusions. She could ake it seem like a dragon was flying in the room when really there was nothing. She also did it all wordlessly. Even Hermione was learning illusions from her. Astoria Greengrass turned out to be the best at them, and Luna had taken the girl as a good friend. The two were now very close, and with Chastity Knight had lots of fun. The managed to sneak out of class and play Exploding Snap using illusions to make Umbridge think that they were just reading their books.

All the other classes were piling on work for the OWLS.

Double Charms was succeeded by double Transfiguration. Professor Flitwick and Professor McGonagall both spent the first fifteen minutes of their lessons lecturing the class on the importance of OWLs.

'What you must remember,' said little Professor Flitwick squeakily, perched as ever on a pile of books so that he could see over the top of his desk, 'is that these examinations may influence your futures for many years to come! If you have not already given serious thought to your careers, now is the time to do so. And in the meantime, I'm afraid, we shall be working harder than ever to ensure that you all do yourselves justice!'

They then spent over an hour revising Summoning Charms, which according to Professor Flitwick were bound to come up in their OWL, and he rounded off the lesson by setting them their largest ever amount of Charms homework.

It was the same, if not worse, in Transfiguration.

'You cannot pass an OWL,' said Professor McGonagall grimly, 'without serious application, practice and study. I see no reason why everybody in this class should not achieve an OWL in Transfiguration as long as they put in the work. So ... today we are starting Vanishing Spells. These are easier than Conjuring Spells, which you would not usually attempt until NEWT level, but they are still among the most difficult magic you will be tested on in your OWL.'

Hermione and the Slytherins found them easy because Gemma Farley, a 6th year had an amazing knack for Transfiguration and had already taught them how. None of the Slytherins were given homework for the Vanishing, and they gained 20 points.

"Yes!" Daphne cheered as they went outside to COMC. "Outside! Away from the stuffy castle!"

The day had become cool and breezy, and as they walked down the sloping lawn towards Hagrid's cabin on the edge of the Forbidden Forest, they felt the occasional drop of rain on their faces. Professor Grubbly-Plank stood waiting for the class some ten yards from Hagrid's front door, a long trestle table in front of her laden with twigs.

"Look." Draco sniggered. "It's Potter the Oaf Lover. Bet he'll get more detentions with the Pink Toad next class." the others also sniggered, knowing that it was very probable.

'Everyone here?' barked Professor Grubbly-Plank, once all the Slytherins and Gryffindors had arrived. 'Let's crack on then. Who can tell me what these things are called?'

She indicated the heap of twigs in front of her. When no one raised their hand, Hermione raised hers. Pansy shrieked in slight fear as the twigs on the table leapt into the air and revealed themselves to be what looked like tiny pixie-ish creatures made of wood, each with knobbly brown arms and legs, two twiglike fingers at the end of each hand and a funny flat, barklike face in which a pair of beetle-brown eyes glittered.

"Can you tell me what they are called?" Grubby-Plank, or Grubby, as Hermione called her barked. "Miss Granger."

'Bowtruckles,' said Hermione. 'They're tree-guardians, usually live in wand-trees. They eat woodlice, though they prefer fairy eggs. Whenever you need leaves or wood from a tree in which a Bowtruckle lodges, it is wise to have a gift of woodlice ready to distract or placate it. They may not look dangerous, but if angered they will try to gouge at human eyes with their fingers which are very sharp."

"Excellent! 15 points to Slytherin." she said. "Now gather around. . ."

"Try riling Potter up." Hermione muttered to Draco. "He really wants Hagrid back."

'Yes,' came Draco drawled clearly, smirking when he saw that Potter was staring at him, 'Father was talking to the Minister just a couple of days ago, you know, and it sounds as though the Ministry's really determined to crack down on sub-standard teaching in this place. So even if that overgrown moron does show up again, he'll probably be sent packing straightaway.'

In his anger Potter nearly snapped the bowtruckle, so in retaliation it swiped at him. Blaise smirked darkly at the sight of two deep gouges in his hand. Soon it was time for Herbology. To nobody's surprise, Professor Sprout started their lesson by lecturing them about the importance of OWLs. Tired and covered in dragon dung, Hermione went down to the dungeons to wash up.

Hermione loved the dungeons. Many would say that they were gloomy and dark, but they were in the Black Lake, or near it. Many times Merpeople or the Giant Squid could be seen swimming by, and the lake cast eerie shadows on the walls.

"Guess what?" Draco asked as he hurried in.

"Chicken Butt.' the room chorused.

"No, Weasley was made Gryffindor Keeper!"

"Oh, we're so going to win." Miles Bletchley smirked.

"Just don't get as many injuries." Hermione said. "I'm still brewing Murtlap Essence."

"I love you." Montague sighed with a grin.

"Hey!" Draco said in mock anger.

"I'm going to go to Potions." she said, hurrying off. When there she opened her book and set up her cauldron;something stopped her.

"Why was Pansy made a prefect and not me?" she asked. "I have better grades and a cleaner record."

Snape set down his grading to look at her. "You are also working on a Mastery in Potions, something Miss Parkinson is not. I simply thought that you would have a lot on your plate with the brewing for the Slytherin team, and your Mastery. The study group you have been teaching also adds onto work. Two out of those three Miss Parkinson does not do."

Hermione sighed. "So it wasn't because of my blood status?"

"Where on earth did you get that foolish idea?" he said slowly. Hermione grinned at him, before going back to work. Hmmm, basilisk venom, Where was she going to get that?

Chapter Text

Hermione loved the Astronomy tower. Whenever she needed to think she would go up there and sit on the windowsill, hanging off of it. Sometimes she would go for a fly, sometimes she would just savor the air. After a quick fly she went down to breakfast.

"Look at this." Draco hissed. He was brandishing a newspaper article.

TRESPASS AT MINISTRY

By Rita Skeeter

Sturgis Podmore, 38, of number two, Laburnum Gardens, Clapham, has appeared in front of the Wizcngamot charged with trespass and attempted robbery at the Ministry of Magic on 31st August. Podmore was arrested by Ministry of Magic watchwizard Eric Munch, who found him attempting to force his way through a top-security door at one o'clock in the morning. Podmore, who refused to speak, in his own defence, was convicted on both charges and sentenced to six months in Azkaban.

"That's new." Hermione snorted. "Sounds like a clotpole."

"Gryffindor is having Quidditch Practice in an hour." Miles said as she rushed to them.

"So let's surprise them." Willa Davis said with a sly smile. She was nothing like her big sister. While Tracey was petite with wavy brown hair and bright green eyes, Willa was built well with straight nearly black brown hair. The only thing they shared were bright green eyes.

"You guys are obsessed." Hermione muttered, but she laughingly let herself be dragged to the stands.

'What's that Weasley's riding?' Draco called in his sneering drawl. 'Why would anyone put a flying charm on a mouldy old log like that?' He was riding an old Cleansweep 8. Hermione smirked, before leaning over to Daphne. "Bet you I can remove the flying charm from the broom."

"10 galleons." she muttered back. Hermione drew her wand and started the anti charm. She had started practicing magic wordlessly because she had finished NEWT education in them all with Professor Snape's help.

'Hey, Johnson, what's with that hairstyle, anyway?' shrieked Pansy from below. 'Why would anyone want to look like they've got worms coming out of their head?'

Hermione giggled. Pansy was always on that. Meanwhile she continued her silent chanting of the spell, ignoring all the taunts to concentrate. She found that it took a little longer because he kept missing goals and moving around. After nearly 20 minutes his broom gave way.

"AAAAAAAAAAAAAARRRRRRRRRRRRRGGGGGGGGGGGGGGHHHHHH!" he screamed as he fell. The rest of the team zoomed down to get him, but he landed hard. From Hermione's angle, she could see that he was alive, but he had at least 4 broken bones.

"Excellent." Daphne praised.

"Damn." Miles whistled. "That's some good charm breaking."

Hermione grinned. His broom was ruined now, and that was a new broom by it's looks and Weasley's boasting. They trooped off with grins at the stupid Gryffindors. The Gryffs glared at them.

"Look at this!" Pansy hissed the next morning, her hair coming loose from it's long Dutch Braid.

MINISTRY SEEKS EDUCATIONAL REFORM

DOLORES UMBRIDGE APPOINTED

FIRST EVER HIGH INQUISITOR

"What the hell is a high inquisitor?" Blaise hissed.

Pansy read aloud:

'In a surprise move last night the Ministry of Magic passed new legislation giving itself an unprecedented level of control at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry.

'"The Minister has been growing uneasy about goings-on at Hogwarts for some time," said Junior Assistant to the Minister, Percy Weasley. "He is now responding to concerns, voiced by anxious parents, who feel the school may be moving in a direction they do not approve of."

'This is not the first time in recent weeks that the Minister, Cornelius Fudge, has used new laws to effect improvements at the wizarding school. As recently as 30th August, Educational Decree Number Twenty-two was passed, to ensure that, in the event of the current Headmaster being unable to provide a candidate for a teaching post, the Ministry should select an appropriate person.

'"That's how Dolores Umbridge came to be appointed to the teaching staff at Hogwarts," said Weasley last night. "Dumbledore couldn't find anyone so the Minister put in Umbridge, and of course, she's been an immediate success-" '

"Yeah right." Gregory Goyle snorted.

'"-an immediate success, totally revolutionising the teaching of Defence Against the Dark Arts and providing the Minister with on-the-ground feedback about what's really happening at Hogwarts."

'It is this last function that the Ministry has now formalised with the passing of Educational Decree Number Twenty-three, which creates the new position of Hogwarts High Inquisitor.

'"This is an exciting new phase in the Minister's plan to get to grips with what some are calling the falling standards at Hogwarts," said Weasley. "The Inquisitor will have powers to inspect her fellow educators and make sure that they are coming up to scratch. Professor Umbridge has been offered this position in addition to her own teaching post and we are delighted to say that she has accepted."

'The Ministry's new moves have received enthusiastic support from parents of students at Hogwarts.

'"I feel much easier in my mind now that I know Dumbledore is being subjected to fair and objective evaluation," said Mr. Lucius Malfoy, 41, speaking from his Wiltshire mansion last night. "Many of us with our children's best interests at heart have been concerned about some of Dumbledore's eccentric decisions in the last few years and are glad to know that the Ministry is keeping an eye on the situation."

'Among those eccentric decisions are undoubtedly the controversial staff appointments previously described in this newspaper, which have included the employment of werewolf Remus Lupin, half-giant Rubeus Hagrid and delusional ex-Auror, "Mad-Eye" Moody.

'Rumours abound, of course, that Albus Dumbledore, once Supreme Mugwump of the International Confederation of Wizards and Chief Warlock of the Wizengamot, is no longer up to the task of managing the prestigious school of Hogwarts.

'"I think the appointment of the Inquisitor is a first step towards ensuring that Hogwarts has a headmaster in whom we can all repose our confidence," said a Ministry insider last night.

'Wizengamot elders Griselda Marchbanks and Tiberius Ogden have resigned in protest at the introduction of the post of Inquisitor to Hogwarts.

'"Hogwarts is a school, not an outpost of Cornelius Fudge's office," said Madam Marchbanks. "This is a further, disgusting attempt to discredit Albus Dumbledore." '(For a full account of Madam Marchbanks's alleged links to subversive goblin groups, turn to page seventeen.)'

Hermione groaned. "So this is why she's here! I just hope that she favors us enough so that we don't get caught up in this."

To her surprise, Draco's face was slowly splitting into a grin.

"What?" she asked.

"I can't wait to see her inspect Snape and McGonagall."

Hermione started grinning too. She couldn't imagine that at all.

"Speaking of Snape, we have Potions." Vincent said, and they all swept off.

'I have awarded you the grades you would have received if you presented this work in your OWL,' said Snape with a smirk, as he swept among them, passing back their homework. 'This should give you a realistic idea of what to expect in the examination.'

Snape reached the front of the class and turned on his heel to face them.

'The general standard of this homework was abysmal. Most of you would have failed had this been your examination. I expect to see a great deal more effort for this week's essay on the various varieties of venom antidotes, or I shall have to start handing out detentions to those dunces who get a "D".'

Hermione of course wasn't given anything.

"So what are the OWL grades?" she asked Flora and Hestia.

"O for Outstanding is the best." said Flora.

"E for Exceeds Expectations." said Hestia.

"A for Acceptable."

"P for Poor."

"D for Dreadful."

"It's really different from the muggle world." Hermione said. "For them, A is the best, then B, C, D then a failing grade is F."

"That's weird." Pansy said in disgust.

"Anyway, have you seen Umbitch yet?" Theo asked.

"In Herbology." Flora shrugged. "She just hung around in the corner taking notes and asked a few questions.

"Divination was amazing." Daphne grinned as they walked to DADA, Hermione having come from Ancient Runes.

"What happened?" Hermione asked.

"Umbitch called Trelawny out for the fraud she is and the old hag got really angry and basically threatened Umbridge as a fake prediction." Draco explained.

"Damn." Hermione whistled.

DADA was normal. Potter got himself detention, and during dinner Johnson yelled at him for missing the Quidditch Practices. The next day Hermione sat down with Pansy and Blaise in transfiguration to see Umbridge sitting in the back, a wide smile on her toady face as she clutched a bright pink clipboard and wrote with bright pink ink.

Professor McGonagall marched into the room without giving the slightest indication that she knew Professor Umbridge was there.

'That will do,' she said and silence fell immediately. 'Mr. Zabini, kindly come here and hand back the homework-Miss Davis, please take this box of mice-don't be silly, girl, they won't hurt you-and hand one to each student-'

'Hem, hem,' said Professor Umbridge, employing the same silly little cough she had used to interrupt Dumbledore on the first night of term. Professor McGonagall ignored her. Blaise handed back Hermione's essay; Hermione had gotten an O.

'Right then, everyone, listen closely-Vincent Crabbe, if you do that to the mouse again I shall put you in detention-most of you have now successfully Vanished your snails and even those who were left with a certain amount of shell have got the gist of the spell. Today, we shall be-'

'Hem, hem,' said Professor Umbridge.

'Yes?' said Professor McGonagall, turning round, her eyebrows so close together they seemed to form one long, severe line. Hermione giggled softly.

'I was just wondering, Professor, whether you received my note telling you of the date and time of your inspec-'

'Obviously I received it, or I would have asked you what you are doing in my classroom,' said Professor McGonagall, turning her back firmly on Professor Umbridge. Many of the students exchanged looks of glee. 'As I was saying: today, we shall be practising the altogether more difficult Vanishment of mice. Now, the Vanishing Spell-'

'Hem, hem.'

'I wonder,' said Professor McGonagall in cold fury, turning on Professor Umbridge, 'how you expect to gain an idea of my usual teaching methods if you continue to interrupt me? You see, I do not generally permit people to talk when I am talking.'

"Burnt." Draco murmered.

Professor Umbridge looked as though she had just been slapped in the face. She did not speak, but straightened the parchment on her clipboard and began scribbling furiously.

Looking supremely unconcerned, Professor McGonagall addressed the class once more.

'As I was saying: the Vanishing Spell becomes more difficult with the complexity of the animal to be Vanished. The snail, as an invertebrate, does not present much of a challenge; the mouse, as a mammal, offers a much greater one. This is not, therefore, magic you can accomplish with your mind on your dinner. So- you know the incantation, let me see what you can do ...'

Hermione managed to Vanish hers easily, and moved on. Professor Umbridge did not follow Professor McGonagall around the class. She did, however, take many more notes while sitting in her corner, and when Professor McGonagall finally told them all to pack away, she rose with a grim expression on her face. They stayed behind for questioning.

"What do you think will happen in COMC?" Theo wondered. He was right, Umbitch was there. She had now donned a light magenta cloak.

'You do not usually take this class, is that correct?' Hermione heard her ask as they arrived at the trestle table where the group of captive Bowtruckles were scrabbling around for woodlice like so many living twigs.

'Quite correct,' said Professor Grubbly-Plank, hands behind her back and bouncing on the balls of her feet. 'I am a substitute teacher standing in for Professor Hagrid.'

'Hmm,' said Professor Umbridge, dropping her voice, though Hermione could still hear her quite clearly. 'I wonder-the Headmaster seems strangely reluctant to give me any information on the matter-can you tell me what is causing Professor Hagrid's very extended leave of absence?'

"Giants." Draco whispered, discreetly putting up a Notice- Me- Not charm. "The Dark Lord has sent envoys to the giants. That's where Hagrid is."

' 'Fraid I can't,' said Professor Grubbly-Plank breezily. 'Don't know anything more about it than you do. Got an owl from Dumbledore, would I like a couple of weeks' teaching work. I accepted. That's as much as I know. Well ... shall I get started then?'

'Yes, please do,' said Professor Umbridge, scribbling on her clipboard.

Umbridge took a different tack in this class and wandered amongst the students, questioning them on magical creatures. Most answered correctly, though some Slytherins messed up on purpose. Umbridge interrogated Gryffindor Dean Thomas for a good five minutes.

'Overall,' said Professor Umbridge, returning to Professor Grubbly-Plank's side after a lengthy interrogation of Dean Thomas, 'how do you, as a temporary member of staff-an objective outsider, I suppose you might say-how do you find Hogwarts? Do you feel you receive enough support from the school management?'

'Oh, yes, Dumbledore's excellent,' said Professor Grubbly-Plank heartily. 'Yes, I'm very happy with the way things are run, very happy indeed.'

Hermione knew that this wasn't the answer Umbitch was looking for. Looking politely incredulous, Umbridge made a tiny note on her clipboard and went on, 'And what are you planning to cover with this class this year-assuming, of course, that Professor Hagrid does not return?'

'Oh, I'll take them through the creatures that most often come up in OWL,' said Professor Grubbly-Plank. 'Not much left to do-they've studied unicorns and Nifflers, I thought we'd cover Porlocks and Kneazles, make sure they can recognise Crups and Knarls, you know ...'

Daphne grinned. This was a class she would enjoy, not Hagrid and his beasts.

'Well, you seem to know what you're doing, at any rate,' said Professor Umbridge, making a very obvious tick on her clipboard. Hermione smirked. 'Now, I hear there have been injuries in this class?'

Draco gave her a small look. He knew that she had been angry about the Hippogriff incident, but Hermione squeezed his hand softly and gave him the nod he was looking for. He looked up, donning a smirk.

'That was me,' he said. 'I was slashed by a hippogriff.'

'A hippogriff?' said Professor Umbridge, now scribbling frantically.

'Only because he was too stupid to listen to what Hagrid told him to do,' said Potter angrily. Hermione scoffed and sent a silent hext at him inscribing SLYTHERIN RULES! On his robes.

'Another night's detention, I think,' Umbridge said softly. 'Well, thank you very much, Professor Grubbly-Plank, I think that's all I need here. You will be receiving the results of your inspection within ten days.'

'Jolly good,' said Professor Grubbly-Plank, and Professor Umbridge set off back across the lawn to the castle.

That evening in the common room a young Slytherin came in. Her name was Marie Anne, and she was a halfblood; a slip of a girl with long black hair and shining grey eyes. She was trying to sneak in and was clutching her hand.

"What's going on?" asked her big brother James Anne.

"Nothing." she said, trying to slip past. At this point everyone was watching. Quick as a flash he pulled her hand away; he recoiled and she started crying. Her hand was red, raw, and bleeding with the words I will not cause disruptions written on her hand.

"A blood quill." Chastity Knight breathed. Hermione accioed her healing kit and sat down next to the sobbing girl, wiping her hair away and clearing her eyes. James was busy punching the wall in anger.

"Ssshhhh." she said, dipping her hand in murtlap essence .

"Why?" James said finally in a choked voice, his grey eyes stormy.

"Umbridge." said Hestia grimly. It was the only time they had seen her that angry.

"Do you have to go back?" James asked, leaning down.

"Yes." she sniffled. "Everyday this week."

"We can't let this happen." Will snarled.

"No duh we can't." Astoria Greengrass scoffed.

"We can't go against her though, or she'll hate us all. She already took points off me for being a half-blood. The only reason Hermione is protected is because she's friends with Draco." said Tracy Davis quietly.

"We have to do something." Willa Davis scowled.

"Threaten her." Hermione snapped her fingers. "Go to her, say that you'll have proof, tell your father, bring it to the Wizengamot. She'll have to listen to that. Tell her to keep her hands off all Snakes."

"That might work." said Blaise slowly. There was silence, and there was only the faint noise of the Murtlap Essence healing Marie's hand.

"Try it." said James with a ragged breath, leaning next to Marie. "You can't get hurt again."

"I won't." she said quietly, hugging him back.

"But she could always retaliate." Millicent Bulstrode pointed out.

"Work under cover." said Miles finally ."Join her, help her, whatever, but secretly be ruining all her efforts. I think that the Dark Lord can take a particular interest in her if he finds out about the quill. Marie, still threaten her, but just say that your friend Draco was particularly worried about her detention. That'll put her off."

"It's true." said Draco. "She relies on my father's patronage."

"Damn." whistled Gemma Farley. "When did you get brains Miles?"

He fake scowled, and they all laughed.

"These are dark times." said Daphne. "Be safe."

"Hogsmeade!" Pansy squealed, dancing around with Gregory, who had asked her to Hogsmeade. He had filled out and was muscled now. Daphne was going with Theo, and Hermione with Draco.

Luna had asked Blaise instead of the other way around. "You'll come with me to catch Nargles at Hogsmeade right?" she had asked in a serene voice as she danced around the silent hall, radish earrings twirling. Blaise was enchanted. Who was this girl who was so unique but captured his heart?

"I'd love to." he said in a smoky voice, but the effect was ruined when she squealed and jumped onto him, resulting in a hay fight on the Astronomy Tower.

All the girls had dressed up nicely. It was a cool October day, though it was not freezing. Hermione wore a simple black dress with thin straps and a lacy white wraparound, her hair in a ponytail. Luna wore a simple floral black skirt on blue leggings, a pink shirt jacket, and a pair of pink and white polka dotted shoes. Her hair was loose and curly. Blaise thought she was beautiful. Daphne wore a simple black cold shoulder shirt with a black skirt and a pair of small heels. Her hair was pulled to the side. Pansy was dressed like Pansy, in a tight black corset top dress that hugged her every curve. Her hair was loose.

Blaise wolf whistled. All the boys were in basic robes and held flowers. Hermione giggled, tucked the giant tiger lily into her hair, and set off. They had a wonderful time. Kissing, dancing to silent music, and climbing trees. Hermione had loved it.

All the girls had an amazing time. Luna and Blaise had kissed after a while and then devoted the rest of the their trip to that particular activity. Hermione just smirked and watched the hall gape at the young Ravenclaw sitting with the Slytherins, and being accepted.

"Why do you hang with us?" Hermione asked her a few weeks later.

"You are my friends." she said simply ."You accept me for who I am and don't scorn me for my beliefs." Hermione could only gape at the serene blonde. She had never been more moved by anybody. Later Luna started painting a portrait for them. She was an excellent artist. The finished result made Hermione gasp.

It was a painting of the Hogwarts Black Lake, with the Whomping Willow in the distance. Hermione, Draco, Pansy, Vincent, Greg, Daphne, and Theo were laughing in the grass. They all looked amazing. The best of all was Luna, who was in the middle. Golden chains connected her to each of her friends, but the chains were actually the word 'friends' spelled a thousand times. It was bright and vibrant.

"It's beautiful." Hermione said in a hushed voice.

"It's for you." she said calmly. Hermione could only hug Luna, trying to convey her friendship. Luna understood.

Chapter Text

Hermione spent most of the weekend on homework with her friends, enjoying the remnants of the cool autumn sunshine. She and her friends were lounging near a beech tree. Luna had somehow managed to shimmy nearly 20 feet up the stem before climbing onto the top branches: a feat none of them dared to try.

"Guys!" yelled Willa. "You have to see this!"

They rushed down to the common room, and a fancy sing was hung up on the common board.

BY ORDER OF THE HIGH INQUISITOR OF HOGWARTS

All student organisations, societies, teams, groups and clubs are henceforth disbanded. An organisation society, team, group or club is hereby defined as a regular meeting of three or more students. Permission to re-form may be sought from the High Inquisitor (Professor Umbridge). No student organisation, society, team, group or club may exist without the knowledge and approval of the High Inquisitor. Any student found to have formed, or to belong to, an organisation, society, team, group or club that has not been approved by the High Inquisitor will be expelled. The above is in accordance with Educational Decree Number Twenty-four.

Signed: Dolores Jane Umbridge, High Inquisitor

"What are we going to do about SM?" Hermione wondered.

"We'll have to keep it a secret." said Miles grimly.

"But is she finds out?" Roy Blishwick questioned.

"We tell her that it's a study group for everything operated in partners. This way we don't reach limits." offered Blaise.

"That might work." Chastity muttered.

"What about Quidditch Team?" Draco brought up in horror. Hermione had to laugh at her Quidditch Crazy friend.

"She'll reinstate it." she said, kissing him fondly. "She owes your father."

It was clear that every house had received the message. There was much hustling and bustling during dinner that day. Umbitch sait with a satisfied smile over them all.

"Umbridge will have to be in History of Magic." Daphne said. "That's the only class so far that she hasn't investigated." Daphne was wrong; the only teacher present when they entered was Professor Binns, floating an inch or so above his chair as usual and preparing to continue his monotonous drone on giant wars.

"Guess what!" Draco said, waving an official piece of parchment around in the dungeons. "Quidditch is on!" They were due for Quidditch.

"Really?!" asked Miles, and Hermione had to wonder at how Quidditch obsessed they were.

"Potter." Hermione muttered nearly imperceptibly. Draco immediately raised his voice and started waving the parchment around again.

'Yeah, Umbridge gave the Slytherin Quidditch team permission to continue playing straightaway, I went to ask her first thing this morning. Well, it was pretty much automatic, I mean, she knows my father really well, he's always popping in and out of the Ministry ... it'll be interesting to see whether Gryffindor are allowed to keep playing, won't it?'

Hermione smirked at Potter and Weasley's angry expressions; they were so easy to rile up.

'I mean,' said Malfoy, raising his voice a little more, his grey eyes glittering malevolently in Harry and Ron's direction, 'if it's a question of influence with the Ministry, I don't think they've got much chance ... from what my father says, they've been looking for an excuse to sack Arthur Weasley for years ... and as for Potter ... my father says it's a matter of time before the Ministry has him carted off to St. Mungo's ... apparently they've got a special ward for people whose brains have been addled by magic. It's said for those people, they really don't deserve to be there. I have an aunt who died there; ever since Father and Mother have donated money every year to improving that ward."

Hermione noticed that Longbottom was gaping at them, and wondered what the story was. At this point Weasley leaped at them in anger, but Potter, Finnegan, and Thomas pulled him back. The boy struggled, but then Snape walked in.

'Fighting, Potter, Weasley, Thomas, Finnegan?' he sneered.. 'Twenty points from Gryffindor. Release Weasley, Potter, or it will be detention. Inside, all of you.'

Inside everyone was whispering about the fight,but when Snape closed the dungeon door with an echoing bang, everybody immediately fell silent.

'You will notice,' said Snape, in his low, sneering voice, 'that we have a guest with us today.'

Umbridge was sitting in the corner, pink clipboard in hand. She had a black bow perched on her head like a juicy fly on a pink toad.

'We are continuing with our Strengthening Solution today. You will find your mixtures as you left them last lesson; it correctly made they should have matured well over the weekend-instructions-' he waved his wand again '-on the board. Carry on.'

Hermione ignored the instructions and opened her book, pulling out a few of her ingredients and some Occamy Tears, one of her ingredients. This potion required many rare ingredients because of how hard it was to shut down even part of a magical ward undetectably.

"Excuse me, but why is Miss Granger not doing her potion?" Umbridge asked, with a hint of disgust in her voice.

'I passed my Potions apprenticeship, so I'm going for my Mastery." Hermione said. "O in both my OWLS and NEWTS."

"Ah." she said, clearly digesting the information. "I see. I was unaware."

Hermione sniffed and went back to her potion. She was making real headway. She nearly had the undetectable down, but on complicated family wards it couldn't work. Professor Umbridge spent the first half hour of the lesson making notes in her corner.

'Well, the class seem fairly advanced for their level,' she said briskly to Snape's back. 'Though I would question whether it is advisable to teach them a potion like the Strengthening Solution. I think the Ministry would prefer it if that was removed from the syllabus.'

Snape straightened up slowly and turned to look at her.

'Now ... how long have you been teaching at Hogwarts?' she asked, her quill poised over her clipboard.

'Fourteen years,' Snape replied. His expression was unfathomable.

'You applied first for the Defence Against the Dark Arts post, I believe?' Professor Umbridge asked Snape.

'Yes,' said Snape quietly.

'But you were unsuccessful?'

Snape's lip curled. Hermione knew that this was a soft spot for him.

'Obviously.'

Professor Umbridge scribbled on her clipboard.

'And you have applied regularly for the Defence Against the Dark Arts post since you first joined the school, I believe?'

'Yes,' said Snape quietly, barely moving his lips. He looked very angry.

'Do you have any idea why Dumbledore has consistently refused to appoint you?' asked Umbridge.

'I suggest you ask him,' said Snape jerkily.

'Oh, I shall,' said Professor Umbridge, with a sweet smile.

'I suppose this is relevant?' Snape asked, his black eyes narrowed.

'Oh yes,' said Professor Umbridge, 'yes, the Ministry wants a thorough understanding of teachers'-er-backgrounds.' Potter got no marks again, and Hermione had added three more steps to her potion.

"Ugh. Umbridge again!" Pansy groaned as they trudged off to DADA.

Umbridge entered the room as he spoke, wearing her black velvet bow and an expression of great smugness.

'Good afternoon, class.'

'Good afternoon, Professor Umbridge,' they chanted dully.

'Wands away, please.'

But there was no answering flurry of movement this time; nobody had bothered to take out their wands.

'Please turn to page thirty-four of Defensive Magical Theory and read the third chapter, entitled "The Case for Non-Offensive Responses to Magical Attack". There will be-'

"No need to talk." Hermione and her friends chanted under their breaths dully, before going to the proper DADA books. They were now reading Killing with Light Magic, an excellent book. Hermione was already hoping to hang Potter using a rope spell, or drop him off the Astronomy Tower with Wingardium Leviosa.

The next day Hermione sat in charms silencing the Hufflepuffs discreetly. Susan Bones and Ernie MacMillan had been hit 4 times each.

"Guys." Draco said, in a tense voice. "It was most likely we will take the mark next year. We must be prepared."

Charms was always one of the best lessons in which to enjoy a private chat; there was generally so much movement and activity that the danger of being overheard was very slight. Today, with the room full of croaking bullfrogs and cawing ravens, and with a heavy downpour of rain clattering and pounding against the classroom windows, they were not going to get caught. Hermione had already silenced her raven and a bullfrog.

"Will it hurt." THeo said softly.

"I don't know. "Draco replied. Hermione kissed him on the cheek before leaning into his embrace. He tightened his hold, drawing warmth from his girlfriend.

That evening was Quidditch Practice. Hermione was forced to go out even though it was pouring, and all the boys flew up. After an hour they gave up, and went to change and shower. Hermione had no bruises to heal, but one of the boys had his beater bat swing around and hit his leg, breaking a tendon. Hermione reattached it with a spell and strengthened it with a potion.

"You boys and your injuries." she said, rolling her eyes.

"Hey!" Willa Davis said, flipping her brown hair over her dark skin. "I'm insulted!"

"Sorry." Hermione smirked, indicating that she wasn't sorry at all.

The next day was double Herbology with the Ravenclaws. Their robes billowed and swirled around them as they splashed across the flooded vegetable patch to double Herbology where they could hardly hear what Professor Sprout was saying over the hammering of raindrops hard as hailstones on the greenhouse roof. The afternoon's Care of Magical Creatures lesson was to be relocated from the storm-swept grounds to a free classroom on the ground floor and, to their intense relief, Grubbly was still there.

That afternoon the Zabini's sent the Slytherins a new shipload of defensive books. They duplicated them and spread them around.

"Happy?" Blaise asked.

"This is amazing." Astoria grinned.

'And just look at these books!' said Hermione excitedly, running a finger along the spines of the large leather-bound tomes. 'A Compendium of Common Curses and their Counter-Actions ... The Magical Arts Outsmarted ... Self-Defensive Spellwork ... wow …'

"Lots of reading." smirked first year Stephen Gamp, before sliding down to read. Hermione went over to the Potions corner to help some second years. They were struggling with a potion, and Hermione helped them by showing them how to properly crush the phosphorus beans.

As the first Quidditch match of the season, Gryffindor versus Slytherin, drew nearer, their SM meetings were put on hold because Miles insisted on almost daily practices. Many of the teachers were showing favoritism towards the Gryffindors, and McGonagall even gave them no homework while assigning the Slytherins 3 feet of parchment on vanishing. Professor Snape did his best to make up for all of this by being outrageously unfair to the Gryffindors and giving points for breathing properly to the Slytherins. Both Ravenclaw and Hufflepuff were against them, so like always, the Snakes were alone.

Miles had been going around hexing their chasers after he was transferred to the position of Keeper because he was better at that. They were always switching positions to confuse the other team. Professor Snape of course refused to hear of any jinxing when Gryffindor Chaser Alicia Spinnet showed up having been the victim of one of Miles' new hexes, the nostril enlarger.

Draco spent all his time riling Weasley and his friends up, as did many of the Slytherins. Pansy was happy to whisper threats from Chaser Warrington in Potter's ear. Draco had created a number of badges in the shape of crowns, and with Pansy's help, who was an amazing singer, he created lyrics mocking Weasley. They practiced the song for a long time. The badges all said Weasley is our King on them.

October extinguished itself in a rush of howling winds and driving rain and November arrived, cold as frozen iron, with hard frosts every morning and icy draughts that bit at exposed hands and faces. The skies and the ceiling of the Great Hall turned a pale, pearly grey, the mountains around Hogwarts were snowcapped, and the temperature in the castle dropped so low that many students wore their thick protective dragonskin gloves in the corridors between lessons.

The morning of the match dawned bright and cold. Hermione pulled on some warm clothes, pulled her newly refreshed potions and healing spell books into her bag, and set off with the team. The Great Hall was filling up fast when they arrived, the talk louder and the mood more exuberant than usual. When Weasley and Potter passed, the former looking very pale, they all jeered.

All the students who weren't playing had dyed their hair half silver half green.

"Hello." said Luna in her vague and dreamy voice. Many of the other students were laughing at her, but all the Snakes welcomed her. She had a giant snake hat sitting on her head; it looked like the Snake had coiled around her shoulders and perched on her head. The Snake in question was green with silver eyes, and kept hissing.

"Excellent charmwork." Adelaide Murton praised.

"Thank you." she said softly, drifting down to sit with Blaise.

"Come on we have to go!" Miles rushed. Hermione looked at him sternly, before plopping him back down.

"Eat.'' she commanded. After he had eaten a proper meal, they walked to the pitch. The frosty grass crunched under their feet as they hurried down the sloping lawns towards the stadium. There was no wind at all and the sky was a uniform pearly white, which meant that visibility would be good without the drawback of direct sunlight in the eyes. The only downside was the icy air.

"We're going to fail." Warrington muttered, eyes downcast. After being the butt of another Gryffindor prank their beaters Derrick and Bole were in the hospital wing, and not able to play. Crabbe and Goyle were taking their place. Both were surprisingly good and had excellent aim.

"You'll be fine." Hermione soothed them. They could hear hundreds of footsteps mounting the banked benches of the spectators' stands. "I have to go." she walked out and took her place. Pansy was organizing the Slytherins for their singing, meanwhile.

Soon the Slytherins came out. All of them wore the crown badges too. 'Captains, shake hands,' ordered the referee Madam Hooch, watching as Miles and Johnson tried to crush each other's hands. Mount your brooms ...'

Madam Hooch placed her whistle in her mouth and blew. The balls were released and the fourteen players shot upwards. Draco immediately started zooming around the stadium for the Snitch, Potter doing the same thing.

'And it's Johnson -Johnson with the Quaffle, what a player that girl is, I've been saying it for years but she still won't go out with me-'

'JORDAN!' yelled Professor McGonagall. Hermione rolled her eyes at the commentary. She couldn't wait for him to leave.

'-just a fun fact, Professor, adds a bit of interest-and she's ducked Warrington, she's passed Montague, she's-ouch-been hit from behind by a Bludger from Crabbe ... Montague catches the Quaffle, Montague heading back up the pitch and-nice Bludger there from George Weasley, that's a Bludger to the head for Montague, he drops the Quaffle, caught by Katie Bell, Katie Bell of Gryffindor reverse-passes to Alicia Spinnet and Spinnet's away-'

Lee Jordan's commentary rang through the stadium, but Hermione could hear the Slytherin singing clearly. They even had a few of the Snakes who could play instruments play them for maximum effect,they had two violins, a guitar, and a set of lap drums.

'-dodges Warrington, avoids a Bludger-close call, Alicia-and the crowd are loving this, just listen to them, what's that they're singing?'

And as Jordan paused to listen, the song rose loud and clear from the sea of green and silver in the Slytherin section of the stands:

'Weasley cannot save a thing,

He cannot block a single ring,

That's why Slytherins all sing:

Weasley is our King.

'Weasley was born in a bin

He always lets the Quaffle in

Weasley will make sure we win

Weasley is our King.'

' -a nd Alicia passes back to Angelina!' Jordan shouted, Hermione smirking as she heard him try to drown out the singing. 'Come on now, Angelina-looks like she's got just the Keeper to beat!-SHE SHOOTS-SHE-aaaah ...'

Miles, the Slytherin Keeper, had saved the goal; he threw the Quaffle to Charles Warrington who sped off with it, zig-zagging in between Spinnet and Bell; the singing from below grew louder and louder as he drew nearer and nearer Weasley.

'Weasley is our King,

Weasley is our King,

He always lets the Quaffle in

Weasley is our King. '

'-and it's Warrington with the Quaffle, Warrington heading for goal, he's out of Bludger range with just the Keeper ahead-'

A great swell of song rose from the Slytherin stands below:

'Weasley cannot save a thing,

He cannot block a single ring ...'

'- so it's the first test for new Gryffindor Keeper Weasley, brother of Beaters Fred and George, and a promising new talent on the team-come on, Ron!'

But the scream of delight came from the Slytherins' end: Ron had dived wildly, his arms wide, and the Quaffle had soared between them straight through Ron's central hoop. Hermione snorted at him obvious incompetence.

'Slytherin score!' came Jordan's voice amid the cheering and booing from the crowds below, 'so that's ten-nil to Slytherin-bad luck, Ron.'

The Slytherins sang even louder:

'WEASLEY WAS BORN IN A BIN

HE ALWAYS LETS THE QUAFFLE IN... '

Hermione saw Chastity pull a group of Slytherins away from the main pack and through the stands, interspersing their singing with the boos and cheers of the other students. That girl was amazing.

'-and Gryffindor back in possession and it's Katie Bell tanking up the pitch-' cried Jordan valiantly, though the singing was now so deafening that he could hardly make himself heard above it.

'WEASLEY WILL MAKE SURE WE WIN

WEASLEY IS OUR KING ...'

At that moment Luna pulled an amazing illusion; the grass below the pitch turned a darker shade of Slytherin green and a silver crown shone in the middle. It had an inscription on it: Weasley is our King. Hermione glanced up and saw Astoria Greengrass take over the green part since Luna was struggling to hold such a large illusion, but it had the effect they wanted. Weasley got distracted.

'WEASLEY IS OUR KING,

WEASLEY IS OUR KING ... '

Hermione, using her omnioculars, saw Draco start singing; Potter clenched his teeth and zoomed off.

'WEASLEY WAS BORN IN A BIN ...'

'-and it's Warrington again,' bellowed Jordan, 'who passes to Davis, Davis's off past Spinnet, come on now, Angelina, you can take him - turns out you can't-but nice Bludger from Fred Weasley I mean, George Weasley, oh, who cares, one of them, anyway, and Warrington drops the Quaffle and Katie Bell-er-drops it, too-so that's Montague with the Quaffle, Slytherin Captain Montague takes the Quaffle and he's off up the pitch, come on now, Gryffindor, block him!'

'WEASLEY CANNOT SAVE A THING ...'

'-and Pucey's dodged Alicia again and he's heading straight for goal, stop it, Ron!'

Hermione, too concentrated on Pansy leading the singers with her back to the game, didn't need to look to see if he made it: there was a terrible groan from the Gryffindor end, coupled with fresh screams and applause from the Slytherins.

'THAT'S WHY SLYTHERINS ALL SING

WEASLEY IS OUR KING.'

It was now twenty-nil. As the game went on Weasley got worse, letting in nearly 8 goals, and making the points 100-nil.

'-and Katie Bell of Gryffindor dodges Davis, ducks Montague, nice swerve, Katie, and she throws to Johnson, Angelina Johnson takes the Quaffle, she's past Warrington, she's heading for goal, come on now, Angelina-GRYFFINDOR SCORE! It's one hundred-ten, one hundred-ten to Slytherin and Davis has the Quaffle ...'

Hermione could hear Luna's snake hissing in the crowd and grinned.

'-Davis throws to Warrington, Warrington to Montague, Montague back to Davis-Johnson intervenes, Johnson takes the Quaffle, Johnson to Bell, this looks good-I mean bad-Bell's hit by a Bludger from Goyle of Slytherin and it's Pucey in possession again ...' Hermione smirked. Trust Goyle to do the right thing.

'WEASLEY WAS BORN IN A BIN

HE ALWAYS LETS THE QUAFFLE IN

WEASLEY WILL MAKE SURE WE WIN ... '

Then they saw the Snitch. Hermione saw Potter and Draco zoom forward, both scrabbling for purchase; she saw Potter kick Draco's broom away and grab the Snitch and she turned away, fighting tears. Again. Bloody again Potter got the Snitch and Gryffindor won.

The Gryffindor spectators screamed their approval, while Pansy bellowed through a charm, "YOU STILL SCORED 90 LESS THAN US LOSERS!"

WHAM.

A Bludger hit Potter squarely in the small of the back and he flew forwards off his broom. Hermione snickered softly and winked at Crabbe as she watched Potter lie winded on the field.

Then she saw it. Draco was looking at them, white faced with anger and fury. He hated losing. Potter got up, and Hermione rushed forward to hear what he was saying. She saw his barely shaking shoulders, and his angry eyes. Then it happened. Potter and one of the Weasley Twins mauled Draco, rushing and punching him.

"NO STOP!" she screamed, trying to gain leverage. Bastards!

"IMPENDENTIA!" screamed Madame Hooch, before going to scold the boys. Hermione barely heard it. She knelt next to Draco, pulling her wands and potions out, trying not to hear his whimpers. Crabbe And Goyle had been stunned to stop from destroying the Gryffindors.

"Are you alright." Hermione whispered, letting a tear fall as she fixed his broken nose and gave him a blood replenishing potion.

"I'm fine." he said in a thick voice, but Hermione saw how angry he was.

That evening Hermione went to his room. He was lying on his bed, staring at the ceiling. She said nothing, just climbed in and hugged him. After a while he spoke. "Why Hermione? Why? Every single bloody time he catches the Snitch. And this time, a few verbal taunt and I'm mauled!"

"What did you say?' Hermione questioned.

"I insulted the Weasley's and Potter's mother."

"That's not that bad." Hermione said in disgust. "They've spoken worse of us."

"I know." his voice was haggard. Hermione just hugged him, trying to give him comfort. Eventually he opened up, and the two fell asleep.

"Wake up lovebirds." Hermione heard Blaise say. She cracked open her eyes, getting used to the light, before sitting up.

"You two looked comfortable." Blaise grinned widely.

"Shut up." she grumbled, trying to fix her hair. She went to the boys bathroom and pulled her wand out, using a few spells. She heard the door open.

"Thank you. I needed that." Draco said, hugging her from behind and kissing her temple. Hermione twisted around and he kissed her on the mouth. She leaned forward, opening her mouth. His hands went to her waist, and they stayed like that until the door opened again.

"Stop snogging!" Theo complained, and the two reluctantly pulled apart. Hermione could still taste peppermint.

"What are the punishments?" he asked. All of Slytherin was having a big conversation.

"Life-long bans for the Weasley Twins and Potter." said Abraham with a wide grin that flashed his pearly white teeth; Hermione was reminded of the cat who ate the canary.

"Are you alright?" Willa asked, concern in her eyes.

"Yes he is." said Luna, floating down. "The Nargles told me that Hermione helped you get over your self anger. Apparently you were infested by Rorkles, they make you hate yourself. Then a Billywig came and caused the two of you to attempt mouth to mouth resuscitation."

The team burst into laugher, and Hermione smiled. Luna's points of view were always so refreshing.

"What about Vincent?" Draco asked.

"He just got lines." Daphne smirked.

"With the blood quill?" Hermione asked, worried.

"No." she grinned. "Umbridge was so happy at taking Potter down that she let him use a normal quill."

"Thank god." Miles breathed.

"Damn it to hell." Chastity growled as she stomped down.

"What's wrong?" Roy Blishwick asked.

"Hagrid's back."

Hermione groaned, as did many of the other students. That oaf was back.

"The Ravenclaws don't like him either. They think he's a bit of a joke." Luna informed them serenely. "The Gryffindors are the only ones to like them, and that's because their common room has a wrackspurt infestation, making their brains fuzzy so they don't think properly."

"That explains so much!" Astoria Greengrass exclaimed, and they all laughed.

Hagrid's reappearance at the staff table at breakfast next day was not greeted by enthusiasm from all students. The Slytherins said nothing, while the Gryffindors ran down to welcome him back. It was with apprehension that Hermione and her friends trudged to COMC, worrying what monster they would see now. Hopefully Umbitch would be there and fire him.

However, the High Inquisitor was nowhere to be seen as they struggled through the snow towards Hagrid, who stood waiting for them on the edge of the Forest. He did not present a reassuring sight; his purple bruises were tinged with green and yellow and some of his cuts still seemed to be bleeding. Worst of all, he was holding a dead cow on his shoulder.

'We're workin' in here today!' Hagrid called happily to the approaching students, jerking his head back at the dark trees behind him. 'Bit more sheltered! Anyway, they prefer the dark.' Hermione wondered what it was.

'Ready?' said Hagrid cheerfully, looking around at the class. 'Right, well, I've bin savin' a trip inter the Forest fer yer fifth year. Thought we'd go an' see these creatures in their natural habitat. Now, what we're studyin' today is pretty rare, I reckon I'm probably the on'y person in Britain who's managed ter train 'em.'

"And you're sure they're trained, are you?" Hermione sneered. "It wouldn't be the first time you brought wild stuff to class." The Slytherins murmured agreement and a few Gryffindors looked as though they thought Hermione had a fair point, too.

'Course they're trained,' said Hagrid, scowling and hoisting the dead cow a little higher on his shoulder.

'So what happened to your face, then?' demanded Draco.

'Mind yer own business!' said Hagrid, angrily. 'Now, if yeh've finished askin' stupid questions, follow me!'

He turned and strode straight into the Forest. Nobody seemed much disposed to follow. Potter and weasley started off, the rest of the class following.

They walked for about ten minutes until they reached a place where the trees stood so closely together that it was as dark as twilight and there was no snow at all on the ground. With a grunt, Hagrid deposited his half a cow on the ground, stepped back and turned to face his class, most of whom were creeping from tree to tree towards him, peering around nervously as though expecting to be set upon at any moment.

'Gather roun', gather roun',' Hagrid encouraged. 'Now, they'll be attracted by the smell 'o the meat but I'm going ter give em a call anyway, 'cause they'll like ter know it's me.'

He turned, shook his shaggy head to get the hair out of his face and gave an odd, shrieking cry that echoed through the dark trees like the call of some monstrous bird. Nobody laughed: most of them looked too scared to make a sound.

Hagrid gave the shrieking cry again. A minute passed in which the class continued to peer nervously over their shoulders and around trees for a first glimpse of whatever it was that was coming. Nothing came. Suddenly strips of flesh were torn of the cow by some invisible creature, and Daphne gave a small half shriek. Theo, on the other hand, looked scared.

"Can you see it?" Hermione whispered.

"Yes." he said, a terrified expression on his face. "They can only be seen by people who have seen death."

"Who died?" Crabbe asked untactfully, before being punched by Blaise.

"My little brother." Theo said, a mournful expression on his face as Daphne hugged him softly. "He was only 5, but some loose spells got through the wards at a Duelling Tournament. He never had a chance. It wa a fight to the death. His name was Mathias."

Hermione's eyes filled with small tears; she barely felt Draco rubbing her back in soothing, circular motions. To have once so young, so innocent and full of magic die so quickly.

"What do they look like?" Crabbe asked untactfully again, before being punched by Blaise again.

"You don't have to. . ." Daphne murmured.

"No." he said, wiping his tears away fiercely. "They have blank, white, shining eyes. A dragonish face and neck. A black skeletal body that belongs to a winged horse, and the wings are practically bat wings. It has a long black tail and pointed fangs."

Hermione shuddered softly. It sounded horrible. She looked around. The only other people able to apparently see these creatures were Potter and Longbottom.

'Oh, an' here comes another one!' said Hagrid proudly. 'Now ... put yer hands up, who can see 'em?' Theo, Neville, and Harry put their hands up.

'Yeah ... yeah, I knew you'd be able ter, Harry,' he said seriously. 'An' you too, Neville, eh? An'-'

Then the rest of the class noticed the strips of flesh being torn away from the cow. "What's doing that?" squealed Parvati Patil in fear.

'Thestrals,' said Hagrid proudly but Hermione thought he was being very rude. 'Hogwarts has got a whole herd of 'em in here. Now, who knows -?'

'But they're really, really unlucky!' interrupted Parvati, looking alarmed. 'They're supposed to bring all sorts of horrible misfortune on people who see them. Professor Trelawney told me once-'

'No, no, no,' said Hagrid, chuckling, 'tha's jus' superstition, that is, they aren' unlucky, they're dead clever an' useful! Course, this lot don' get a lot o' work, it's mainly jus' pullin' the school carriages unless Dumbledore's takin' a long journey an' don' want ter Apparate-an' here's another couple, look-'

One of them must have passed close to the Indian girl because she shuddered and pressed herself againt the tree, saying, 'I think I felt something, I think it's near me!'

'Don' worry, it won' hurt yeh,' said Hagrid patiently. 'Righ', now, who can tell me why some o' yeh can see 'em an' some can't?'

Hermione raised her hand. Here was a chance to get points. After looking around for anyone else, Hagrid finally relented and called on her. "Thestrals can only be seen by people who have seen death." she said.

"5 points to Slytherin." he grunted, looking very disgruntled. "Now, Thestrals-''

'Hem, hem.'

Umbridge had arrived. She wore her pink cloak and hat again, but this time they had light green designs on it. Hagrid, who had never heard Umbridge's fake cough before, was gazing in some concern at thin air, Hermione stifled a giggle.

'Hem, hem.'

'Oh, hello!' Hagrid said, smiling, having located the source of the noise.

'You received the note I sent to your cabin this morning?' said Umbridge, in the same loud, slow voice she had used with him earlier, as though she were addressing somebody both foreign and very slow. 'Telling you that I would be inspecting your lesson?'

'Oh, yeah,' said Hagrid brightly. 'Glad yeh found the place all righ'! Well, as you can see- or, I dunno-can you? We're doin' Thestrals today-'

'I'm sorry?' said Professor Umbridge loudly, cupping her hand around her ear and frowning. 'What did you say?'

Hagrid looked a little confused. Hermione was muffling her giggles in Draco's shoulder.

'Er-Thestrals!' he said loudly. 'Big-er-winged horses, yeh know!'

He flapped his gigantic arms hopefully. Professor Umbridge raised her eyebrows at him and muttered as she made a note on her clipboard: 'Has ... to ... resort ... to ... crude ... sign ... language.'

'Well ... anyway ...' said Hagrid, turning back to the class and looking slightly flustered, 'erm ... what was I sayin?'

'Appears ... to ... have ... poor ... short ... term ... memory,' muttered Umbridge, loudly enough for everyone to hear her. Draco looked as though Christmas had come a month early.

'Oh, yeah,' said Hagrid, throwing an uneasy glance at Umbridge's clipboard, but ploughing on valiantly. 'Yeah, I was gonna tell yeh how come we got a herd. Yeah, so, we started off with a male an' five females. This one,' he patted something in thin air, 'name o' Tenebrus, he's my special favourite, firs' one born here in the Forest-'

'Are you aware,' Umbridge said loudly, interrupting him, 'that the Ministry of Magic has classified Thestrals as "dangerous"?'

Hagrid merely chuckled.

'Thestrals aren' dangerous! All righ', they might take a bite outta yeh if yeh really annoy them -'

'Shows ... signs ... of... pleasure ... at ... idea ... of... violence,' muttered Umbridge, scribbling on her clipboard again. Hermione honestly agreed. The man was dangerous!

'No-come on!' said Hagrid, looking a little anxious now. 'I mean, a dog'll bite if yeh bait it, won' it-but Thestrals have jus' got a bad reputation because o' the death thing-people used ter think they were bad omens, didn' they? Jus' didn' understand, did they?'

Umbridge did not answer; she finished writing her last note, then looked up at Hagrid and said, again very loudly and slowly, 'Please continue teaching as usual. I am going to walk,' she mimed walking (Draco and Pansy were in silent fits of laughter, Hermione had downed a quick Solemnity Solution so she acted normally) 'among the students' (she pointed around at individual members of the class) 'and ask them questions.' She pointed at her mouth to indicate talking.

Hagrid stared at her, clearly at a complete loss to understand why she was acting as though he did not understand normal English.

'Erm ... anyway,' said Hagrid, clearly struggling to regain the flow of his lesson, 'so -Thestrals. Yeah. Well, there's loads o' good stuff abou' them ...'

'Do you find,' said Professor Umbridge in a ringing voice to Pansy, 'that you are able to understand Professor Hagrid when he talks?'

Just like Hermione, Pansy had tears in her eyes, and her answer was almost incoherent because she was trying to suppress her giggles. Hermione palmed her a vial of Solemnity Solution.

'No ... because ... well ... it sounds ... like grunting a lot of the time ...'

Umbridge scribbled on her clipboard. The few unbruised bits of Hagrid's face flushed, but he tried to act as though he had not heard Pansy's answer.

'Er ... yeah ... good stuff abou' Thestrals. Well, once they're tamed, like this lot, yeh'll never be lost again. 'Mazin' sense o' direction, jus' tell 'em where yeh want ter go-'

'Assuming they can understand you, of course,' said Draco loudly, and Pansy nearly spit out her solution for her giggling. Professor Umbridge smiled indulgently at them and then turned to Longbottom.

'You can see the Thestrals, Longbottom, can you?' she said.

He nodded.

'Who did you see die?' she asked, her tone indifferent.

'My ... my grandad,' said Longbottom

'And what do you think of them?' she said, waving her stubby hand at thin air where Hermione assumed the thestrals were, who by now had stripped a great deal of the carcass down to bone, as far as Hermione could see.

'Erm,' said Longbottom nervously, with a glance at Hagrid. 'Well, they're ... er ... OK ...'

'Students ... are ... too ... intimidated ... to ... admit ... they ... are ... frightened,' muttered Umbridge, making another note on her clipboard.

'No!' said Neville, looking upset. 'No, I'm not scared of them!'

'It's quite all right,' said Umbridge, patting Longbottom on the shoulder with what she evidently intended to be an understanding smile, though it looked more like a leer to Hermione. 'Well, Hagrid,' she turned to look up at him again, speaking once more in that loud, slow voice, 'I think I've got enough to be getting along with. You will receive' (she mimed taking something from the air in front of her) 'the results of your inspection' (she pointed at the clipboard) 'in ten days' time.' She held up ten stubby little fingers, then, her smile wider and more toadlike than ever before beneath her pink hat, she bustled from their midst, leaving the Slytherins amused and Longbottom looking confused and upset.

"Best lesson ever!" Pansy giggled, the Solution having wore off.

"It was funny." Hermione smirked.

"I'm glad she didn't talk to me." Theo said softly. They walked on in silence, and Hermione wondered, what was it like to see someone die? She was going to find out, whether she liked it or not.

Chapter Text

December arrived, bringing with it more snow and a positive avalanche of homework for the fifth-years. Draco and Pansy's prefect duties also became more and more onerous as Christmas approached. They were called upon to supervise the decoration of the castle ('You try putting up tinsel when Peeves has got the other end and is trying to strangle you with it,' Draco grumbled), to watch over first- and second-years spending their break-times inside because of the bitter cold ("They all show respect unlike the Gryffindors." Pansy said) and to patrol the corridors in shifts with Argus Filch, who suspected that the holiday spirit might show itself in an outbreak of wizard duels ('Moron." Draco grumbled.).

Soon it was time for the last Slytherin's Magic meeting before break. The leaders, Hermione, Will, Adelaide, Chastity, and Luna stood up front.

"We're proud." said Will, as he stood tall in front of the students. "You've all advanced beyond leaps and bounds."

"Every single one of you is encouraged to bring more magic defense books from home, and practice spells if possible." Hermione said.

"Did you know that the Ministry's Firewhizzers can't detect illusions because they are not controlled by the wand magic but by the body magic?" Luna said in a ringing voice. Her illusion students gave grins.

"Good luck." said Adelaide with a warm grin.

"I'm proud." Hermione said quietly to them. Each of the leaders were chosen for their branch of magic. Hermione was potions, Luna was Illusions, Chastity was Charms, etc.

"We're so going to win." Miles grinned as he plopped himself down with Hermione, her friends, Draco, and the quidditch team. "Gryffindor has replaced Ginny Weasley as seeker. Jack Sloper and Andrew Kirke are beaters."

"They all suck." Abraham grunted.

"Not the Weasley girl." said Willa. "I've spied on her flying. She's good. Not as good as Potter, but good."

"Well the beaters suck." Terrence smirked.

"That's good news." Draco reasoned, taking a sip of Orange Juice. Soon it was time for break itself. Hermione quickly packed and sent Artemis with a letter to the Malfoys that she was once again grateful for their hospitality.

"Can you believe that Potter and the Weasels left a full 3 days early?" Draco said, disgruntled as he sat on the express.

"They're Gryffindors." they all chorused, rolling their eyes. Soon they reached Hogwarts, and Hermione was back at the Manor. She immediately unpacked like always, before putting on a casual pair of robes for dinner.

"How was Hogwarts?" Mrs Malfoy asked.

"Excellent." Draco grinned.

"What's this I hear about a Defense Rebellion?" Mr Malfoy asked. The two children choked on their food. It was comical. Both their eyes bulged and they nearly spit out the chicken, and they both choked.

"Good god Lucius, I told you not to scare them!" Mrs Malfoy complained softly, though Hermione saw a hint of amusement in her eyes.

"How did you know?" Hermione asked.

"I have my ways." Lucius smirked. "Expect some help on Christmas."

He was right. He gave Draco and Hermione each a box of nearly 15 different defense books. Hermione's favorite was Practical Defensive Magic. Draco's gift was amazing though. It was a small black box with white cushions, and nestled in it was a silver necklace in the shape of a heart. The heart was a bright blue sapphire and the adjoining outline was made of bright diamonds. It was amazing.

"Hermione," Draco said nervously, "In pureblood culture jewelry in the shape of a heart signifies a courting gift. It's like a promise ring. If you think it's too forward I can . . . " he trailed off

Hermione could only gape at him. "I love it you moron!" she cried, launching herself at him. It was beautiful. After a very nice kiss which Hermione loved, they broke apart.

"Will you put it on for me?" she asked, pulling her hair up. He clasped the lock on, and Hermione felt it rest right near the part between her breasts.

"You look beautiful." Draco complemented, giving her another kiss before pulling her down for breakfast.

"Wait, wouldn't the charm the Dark Lord gave me count?" Hermione asked worried.

"No." he said. "There are certain courting rituals to be followed. That is just a charm."

"Damn it." Theo complained at breakfast when he saw the necklace. "You make me look a bad boyfriend."

"I expect something like that too." Daphne sniffed.

When the Malfoy's saw it, they said nothing, but Hermione saw the approving smiles and grinned. She was happy. Other presents involved candy and robes. Soon it was time for the usual Christmas Dinner. This was also going to be like a Death Eater gathering for planning. Hermione wore a strapless deep blue dress with a silver belt. The skirt ended at her knees and was made of flowy material. Her heels were high and a navy blue with silver designs on them. Her jewelry consisted of her charm bracelet, her promise necklace, and a pair of sapphire blue earrings with diamonds on them.

She, Pansy, and Daphne had gotten ready together. Hermione's makeup became a light silver that blended into her skin and a darker pink lipstick that was bordering purple. Her hair was pulled up and curled tight with a blue ribbon. Pansy and Daphne wore the same dress types but in purple and red respectively. Their hair were the same as were their earrings, but they had different bracelets and necklaces. They looked beautiful, and their dates certainly thought so. Hermione thought that Draco would never stop staring.

"Marcus!" Hermione said, seeing Marcus Flint, their old quidditch captain there.

'Hermione!" he boomed enveloping her in a hug. He was taller and burlier with a girl at his side.

"Who's she?" Hermione asked.

"Melanie Stratton." he said, giving a kiss to the delicate redhead next to him.

"You look good." she laughed.

"You too." he grinned. "You're starting to look like a woman!"

"Same to you." she smirked.

"Ouch." he fake pouted, before laughing. "Did you ever resolve that problem with you and Malfoy?"

"Yup." she smirked, as Draco came over to give her a small kiss.

"Marcus." he grinned at his old captain. "Still playing for Puddlemere United?"

"Always." he smirked. "Unfortunately, I have to work with Oliver Wood." he gave a grimace. As the evening wore on Hermione met with many of her older friends that had graduated. To all of their surprise Luna had joined them, and wore a floaty light blue dress with silver embellishments. Her hair was loose and curly.

Soon, it was time to go out. "Ready?" Adrian Pucey asked, as they all got ready to dine with the Dark Lord. They walked out in pairs. Astoria was with Vincent this time. They sat at the table, and he joined them. He looked like a pureblood, though he was not. The Dark Lord looked the same as last summer, if a tad bit more tired.

They started eating, and the conversation began.

"When will we be breaking our allies out of Azkaban?" asked a man named Avery.

"I am still planning it. I am mostly looking for a way to make sure we don't get caught."

"Hermione's potion." said Draco suddenly, sitting up. The table was silent.

"What?" he asked.

"Well, sir," Hermione explained nervously, "You would have to make emergency Portkeys. My potion is currently in testing, but I think that nobody can sense it including the ward maker when used. I'm just stabilizing it and then will test it on the Hogwarts wards. If every Death Eater carried some around, they could smash through the wards and break out."

"You're 15?" asked Mulciber.

Hermione nodded.

"And Severus's apprentice?"

Hermione nodded again.

"She's very smart." said Voldemort, and Hermione sensed a hint of fondness in his voice. "Tell me Severus, could we mass produce it for our Death Eaters?"

"We could milord, but one ingredient is hard to procure, basilisk venom. It corrodes the magic of the ward."

"Leave that to me." he said dismissively. "I can take a quick trip to India and go to one of the Basilisk sanctuaries. They have an excellent one in Calcutta."

"Milord, you said you had a surprise for us?" asked Lucius respectfully.

"I do." he smirked. "At the beginning of break I had Nagini attack Arthur Weasley while he guarded the prophecy we wanted. Unfortunately he was saved, but I believe it has come as a great blow to our enemies."

Hermione grinned. Finally some revenge on the Weasel!

"What prophecy?" asked a man Hermione didn't know.

"It is a prophecy concerning me and Potter. It tells who will win or lose the battle. Unfortunately, none of my death eaters can touch it so I need Potter to collect it."

"Why not just go to the Department of Mysteries and get it?" Hermione asked. "You could easily get through the wards and place a fake prophecy in place of the original. Then lure Potter there and trap him."

"That is an excellent idea." he had an odd look on his face. "Why did I not think of it?"

Then the conversation resumed, that problem solved.

"Bloody hell Hermione!" said Harrison Carrow. "You talked to him!"

"He vouched for her." said Draco proudly. Hermione blushed and held up her bracelet, revealing the Dark Mark charm.

After that Christmas was amazing. Hermione and Draco spent lots of time playing, talking, reading, and she was even talked into flying with him. It ended with Hermione clutching onto Draco as she snuggled into him as he showed her the sunset. Soon the break was over, and Hermione was back at Hogwarts.

"What are you looking at?" Blaise asked her.

"Professor Snape sent me a letter." Hermione said.

Dear Miss Granger,

I have an unfortunate problem to bring up. The Headmaster has decided that Potter should recieve more special treatment and I am forced to teach him Occlumency. Unfortunately, the only day I can teach him is the day I give you Occlumency practice, so I'm afraid that our time will be intruded on.

Apologies,

Professor Snape

"Bloody Potter and his special treatment again." Hermione grumbled.

"You know that Potter's Dumbledore golden boy." Theo reminded her.

"Yea, but I was hoping it couldn't intrude on me." she grumbled.

"Look on the bright side, maybe you have a chance to poison him now." she said Daphne brightly. Soon they were at Hogwarts, and Hermione was eating dinner, dreading how Potter would come and interrupt her lessons.

"Guys, guess what?" Pansy smirked in a hushed voice.

"Chicken Butt." they all chorused.

"No." she laughed. "Potter and Cho Chang to Hogsmeade on Valentine's Day!" Soon Hermione was going to her Occlumency practices. They were not held in the usual room because Professor Snape wanted to intimidate Potter as much as possible. She walked in.

The shadowy room was lined with shelves bearing hundreds of glass jars in which slimy bits of animals and plants were suspended in variously coloured potions. In one corner stood the cupboard full of ingredients.

"Hello Miss Granger." he said coldly, before setting her up. "Now get ready. Legilimens!"

Hermione quickly went to her mindscape and shut all her books down, before finding her binder of creatures and ripping all the pages out, immediately summoning them. Soon his magic was attacked by snakes and phoenixes among other creatures, and before he could find anything of hers he had to leave. Hermione vaguely heard a door open and close as she restored the damage to her mindscape.

Then she turned around. It was Potter. She groaned internally.

'Shut the door behind you, Potter.' Professor Snape said quietly.

'Well, Potter, you know why you are here,' he said. 'The Headmaster has asked me to teach you Occlumency. I can only hope that you prove more adept at it than at Potions.'

'Right,' said Potter tersely.

'This may not be an ordinary class, Potter,' said Snape, his eyes narrowed malevolently, 'but I am still your teacher and you will therefore call me "sir" or "Professor" at all times.'

'Yes ... sir,' said Potter. Hermione could tell that he didn't want to.

Snape continued to survey him through narrowed eyes for a moment, then said, 'Now, Occlumency. As I have told you, this branch of magic seals the mind against magical intrusion and influence.'

'And why does Professor Dumbledore think I need it, sir?' said Potter.

Snape looked back at him for a moment and then said contemptuously, 'Surely even you could have worked that out by now, Potter? The Dark Lord is highly skilled at Legilimency -'

'What's that? Sir?' Hermione rolled her eyes. Moron.

'It is the ability to extract feelings and memories from another person's mind-'

'He can read minds?' said Potter quickly.

'You have no subtlety, Potter,' said Snape, his dark eyes glittering. 'You do not understand fine distinctions. It is one of the shortcomings that makes you such a lamentable potion-maker.'

Snape paused for a moment, apparently to savour the pleasure of insulting Potter, before continuing.

'Only Muggles talk of "mind-reading". The mind is not a book, to be opened at will and examined at leisure. Thoughts are not etched on the inside of skulls, to be perused by any invader, the mind is a complex and many-layered thing, Potter- or at least, most minds are.' He smirked. 'It is true, however, that those who have mastered Legilimency are able, under certain conditions, to delve into the minds of their victims and to interpret their findings correctly. The Dark Lord, for instance, almost always knows when somebody is lying to him. Only those skilled at Occlumency are able to shut down those feelings and memories that contradict the lie, and so can utter falsehoods in his presence without detection.'

'So he could know what we're thinking right now? Sir?'

'The Dark Lord is at a considerable distance and the walls and grounds of Hogwarts are guarded by many ancient spells and charms to ensure the bodily and mental safety of those who dwell within them,' said Snape. 'Time and space matter in magic, Potter. Eye contact is often essential to Legilimency.'

'Well then, why do I have to learn Occlumency?'

Snape eyed Harry, tracing his mouth with one long, thin finger as he did so. Hermione rolled her eyes. He was being given private lessons in a highly complex art and he wanted to know why!

'The usual rules do not seem to apply with you, Potter. The headmaster simply wishes for you to learn how to close your mind to the Dark Lord.'

Hermione sat down. This was going to be amusing.

'Stand up and take out your wand, Potter.'

Potter got to his feet. They faced each other with the desk between them.

'You may use your wand to attempt to disarm me, or defend yourself in any other way you can think of,' said Snape.

'And what are you going to do?' Potter asked.

'I am about to attempt to break into your mind,' said Snape softly. 'We are going to see how well you resist. I have been told that you have already shown aptitude at resisting the Imperius Curse. You will find that similar powers are needed for this ... brace yourself, now. Legilimens!'

After a minute Potter managed to fire a stinking hex off, which hit Professor Snape's knee. Potter fell and hit his own knee on Snape's desk. Hermione rolled her eyes.

"Have you even read about Occlumency?" she scoffed as she put some bruise paste on Snape's welt from the hex.

"No." Potter muttered, glaring at her.

"Then how the hell do you expect to learn how to guard your mind? I spent nearly 3 weeks reading up on Occlumency before even attempting it. You should have read."

"Miss Granger is right Potter. I expected you to come prepared. Now, would you like to show him how it's done Miss Granger?"

"Gladly." she smirked, getting to her feet.

"Legilimens!" he said, and Hermione felt a much more forceful attack then before. She shut her books down, but the magic started searching for the keys. Quickly she pulled out her animals, but the relentless battering destroyed them. Hermione ran around until she finally found it. A book on mythology she read when she was younger, and in it a description of the Labyrinth. She pulled it out and threw it at him. Professor Snape found himself in a Labyrinth facing a very angry chimaera before retreating.

"What did you just do?" Potter asked in confusion. Hermione rolled her eyes.

"Potter, do you know what a mindscape is?" he nodded negative. She sighed again.

"Potter, don't come back here until you have developed your mindscape through proper meditation." Snape snapped. The boy ran out. Professor Snape sighed and sat down, rubbing his forehead. "Idiot boy."

Hermione grinned.

"He did it." Draco smirked the next day at breakfast, showing them the newspaper. Hermione looked at it, and found ten black-and-white photographs that filled the whole of the front page, nine showing wizards' faces and the tenth, a witch's. Some of the people in the photographs were silently jeering; others were tapping their fingers on the frame of their pictures, looking insolent. Each picture was captioned with a name and the crime for which the person had been sent to Azkaban.

Antonin Dolohov, read the legend beneath a wizard with a long, pale, twisted face who was sneering up at Hermione, convicted of the brutal murders of Gideon and Fabian Prewett.

Algernon Rookwood, said the caption beneath a pockmarked man with greasy hair who was leaning against the edge of his picture, looking bored, convicted of leaking Ministry of Magic secrets to He Who Must Not Be Named.

But Hermione's eyes were drawn to the picture of the witch. Her face had leapt out at her the moment she had seen the page. She had long, dark hair that looked unkempt and straggly in the picture, though Hermione could imagine it thick and shining. She glared up at Hermione through heavily lidded eyes, an arrogant, disdainful smile playing around her thin mouth. She retained vestiges of great good looks, but something-perhaps Azkaban-had taken most of her beauty.

Bellatrix Lestrange, convicted of the torture and permanent incapacitation of Frank and Alice Longbottom.

"My aunt." Draco murmured, resting his head on her shoulder. "She won't like you very much."

MASS BREAKOUT FROM AZKABAN

MINISTRY FEARS BLACK IS 'RALLYING POINT FOR OLD DEATH EATERS

By Rita Skeeter

The Ministry of Magic announced late last night that there has been a mass breakout from Azkaban.

Speaking to reporters in his private office, Cornelius Fudge, Minister for Magic, confirmed that ten high-security prisoners escaped in the early hours of yesterday evening and that he has already informed the Muggle Prime Minister of the dangerous nature of these individuals.

'We find ourselves, most unfortunately, in the same position we were two and a half years ago when the murderer Sirius Black escaped,'said Fudge last night.'Nor do we think the two breakouts are unrelated. An escape of this magnitude suggests outside help, and we must remember that Black, as the first person ever to break out of Azkaban, would be ideally placed to help others follow in his footsteps. We think it likely that these individuals, who include Black's cousin, Bellatrix Lestrange, have rallied around Black as their leader. We are, however, doing all we can to round up the criminals, and we beg the magical community to remain alert and cautious. On no account should any of these individuals be approached.'

Many citizens ask how the wards of Azkaban were breached.

"This is most peculiar." says the Warden of Azkaban Charon. "The wards weren't broken. The wizards just came in."

Hermione paused to grin. Her Potion worked! She could submit that during Easter Break in the Potions Convention.

"Look at this." Pansy muttered, directing them to another page.

TRAGIC DEMISE OF MINISTRY OF MAGIC WORKER

St. Mungo's Hospital promised a full inquiry last night after Ministry of Magic worker Broderich Bode, 49, was discovered dead in his bed, strangled by a pot plant. Healers called to the scene were unable to revive Mr. Bode, who had been injured in a workplace accident some weeks prior to his death.

Healer Miriam Strout, who was in charge of Mr. Bode's ward at the time of the incident, has been suspended on full pay and was unavailable for comment yesterday, but a spokeswizard for the hospital said in a statement:

'St. Mungo's deeply regrets the death of Mr. Bode, whose health was improving steadily prior to this tragic accident.

'We have strict guidelines on the decorations permitted on our wards but it appears that Healer Strout, busy over the Christmas period, overlooked the dangers of the plant on Mr. Bode's bedside table. As his speech and mobility improved, Healer Strout encouraged Mr. Bode to look after the plant himself, unaware that it was not an innocent Flitterbloom, but a cutting of Devil's Snare which, when touched by the convalescent Mr. Bode, throttled him instantly.

'St. Mungo's is as yet unable to account for the presence of the plant on the ward and asks any witch or wizard with information to come forward.'

"Why is this important?" Hermione asked.

"Broderick Bode is a high ranking officer in the Department of Mysteries." Daphne explained. "My father told me. It probably has something to do with the prophecy the Dark Lord wants."

"I just found out that Hagrid is on probation." Theo grinned maliciously as he rushed over. "I was listening in on Potter and Weasley's conversation with the oaf."

"Excellent." Hermione grinned.

The fact that Hagrid was now on probation became common knowledge within the school over the next few days hardly anybody appeared to be upset about it; indeed, some people, Draco prominent among them, seemed positively gleeful. As for the freakish death of an obscure Department of Mysteries employee in St. Mungo's,the Slytherins seemed to be the only ones who knew or cared and that was because it was related to the prophecy. There was only one topic of conversation in the corridors now: the ten escaped Death Eaters, whose story had finally filtered through the school from those few people who read the newspapers. Rumours were flying that some of the convicts had been spotted in Hogsmeade, that they were supposed to be hiding out in the Shrieking Shack and that they were going to break into Hogwarts, just as Sirius Black had once done.

Those who came from wizarding families had grown up hearing the names of these Death Eaters spoken with almost as much fear as Voldemort's; the crimes they had committed during the days of Voldemort's reign of terror were legendary. There were relatives of their victims among the Hogwarts students, who now found themselves the unwilling objects of a gruesome sort of reflected fame as they walked the corridors: Susan Bones, whose uncle, aunt and cousins had all died at the hands of one of the ten, was seen walking around miserably. The Slytherins, on the other hand, had a different point of view.

Many of them had known the Death Eaters through stories, and they were seen as strong wizards and witches who had fought for what they believed. The students had gone from hate on Potter to whispering about him, wondering why the breakout happened.

It was not only the students' mood that had changed. It was now quite common to come across two or three teachers conversing in low, urgent whispers in the corridors, breaking off their conversations the moment they saw students approaching.

"They obviously have to hide from Umbridge." Blaise said, for new notices had appeared on the house noticeboards the morning after news of the Azkaban breakout:

BY ORDER OF THE HIGH INQUISITOR OF HOGWARTS

Teachers are hereby banned from giving students any information

that is not strictly related to the subjects they are paid to teach.

The above is in accordance with Educational Decree

Number Twenty-six.

Signed: Dolores Jane Umbridge, High Inquisitor

This latest Decree had been the subject of a great number of jokes among the students. Lee Jordan had pointed out to Umbridge that by the terms of the new rule she was not allowed to tell Fred and George Weasley off for playing Exploding Snap in the back of the class.

'Exploding Snap's got nothing to do with Defence Against the Dark Arts, Professor! That's not information relating to your subject!'

Hermione had laughed at the story, but she knew that Jordan would be punished for it. Hermione had thought the breakout from Azkaban might have humbled Umbridge a little, that she might have been abashed at the catastrophe that had occurred right under the nose of her beloved Fudge. It seemed, however, to have only intensified her furious desire to bring every aspect of life at Hogwarts under her personal control. She seemed determined at the very least to achieve a sacking before long, and the only question was whether it would be Professor Trelawney or Hagrid who went first.

Draco told her that Divination was now watched every class, and Hermione knew that COMC was watched too.

Hagrid was not putting up a very good show either. He had shown them nothing more frightening than a Crup-a creature indistinguishable from a Jack Russell terrier except for its forked tail-since before Christmas, he too seemed to have lost his nerve. He was oddly distracted and jumpy during lessons, losing the thread of what he was saying to the class, answering questions wrongly, and all the time glancing anxiously at Umbridge.

Potter's Occlumency had gone horribly the next time he came back, and Hermione had taken to brewing during those periods and doing Occlumency with Professor Snape in the other periods. Now that she had finished her Potions recipe for the Warding Potion she had moved onto another idea. This was a potion that would break through all Occlumency barriers and take all knowledge from the drinker's brain, transferring it into that of the person whose hair was put in the potion. It had the same roots as that of her Cruciatus, but it involved a transfer of knowledge. It was extremely complicated and Hermione thought it would take at least a year before she could finish it.

With so much to worry about and so much to do- startling amounts of homework that frequently kept the fifth-years working until past midnight, secret SM sessions and regular classes with Snape- January seemed to be passing alarmingly fast. Before Hermione knew it, February had arrived, bringing with it wetter and warmer weather and the prospect of the second Hogsmeade visit of the year.

It was of course on Valentine's day so all the boys would be taking their girls on dates. Hermione wore a deep red dress with black earrings and black heels. The other girls matched, and they all pulled their hair to the side. As they were walking out to meet their dates they saw Potter and Chang together; Pansy couldn't resist a jibe.

'Potter and Chang!' screeched Pansy, to a chorus of giggles. 'Urgh, Chang, I don't think much of your taste ... at least Diggory was good-looking!'

"That was fun." Daphne giggled after they walked past. "Riling up Potter should be made a sport."

The date went well. Hermione had bundled a pair of tights and a white jacket on, so they went to the Three Broomsticks. There they got a drink of Butterbeer and talked, having a wonderful time. After the date they went back.

On Monday night Dinner Pansy brought them more gossip. "Potter and Chang's date went horribly!" she told them. "Apparently Potter had to meet somebody else in the Three Broomsticks and left her. She's super angry."

"Just where do you find this stuff?" Theo wondered.

"Parvati Patil." Pansy replied matter-of-factly. "She's a gossip queen, so as long as she tells me stuff, I tell her stuff."

"Come on Hermione!" Draco whined as he pulled her. "Pleeeeease?"

"You're exasperating." she rolled her eyes, but she went with them to the Gryffindor Hufflepuff Quidditch Game. It was a massacre that had Slytherin in tears of laughter at the end. The very best thing you could say about the match was that it was short; the spectators had to endure only twenty-two minutes of agony. It was hard to say what the worst thing was: Hermione thought it was a close-run contest between Weasley's fourteenth failed save, Sloper missing the Bludger but hitting Johnson in the mouth with his bat, and Kirke shrieking and falling backwards off his broom when Zacharias Smith zoomed at him carrying the Quaffle. The miracle was that Gryffindor only lost by ten points: Ginny Weasley managed to snatch the Snitch from right under Hufflepuff Seeker Summerby's nose, so that the final score was two hundred and forty versus two hundred and thirty.

"That was wonderful!" Draco wheezed as they walked back.

Even Hermione had to laugh. "I can't believe that Kirke fell of his broom when Smith came at him."

"Don't you know?" Daphne looked at her strangely. "Zacharias Smith is a Hufflepuff who's allied with the Death Eaters; his father was a famous Quidditch Player before being layed off."

"That explains a lot." Hermione laughed.

"I still think the best part was Weasley's red face as we sang Weasley is our King as he left."

"But he is." Blaise smirked.

The next day at breakfast Hermione couldn't find her friends anywhere. Finally she went to the common room even though it was time for breakfast. There she found them with Luna huddled on a couch. Pansy's face looked blotchy, and Draco was paler than ice.

"What's wrong?" she asked.

"This." Theo said in a rage choked voice. He handed her a copy of the Quibbler.

HARRY POTTER SPEAKS OUT AT LAST:

THE TRUTH ABOUT HE WHO MUST NOT BE NAMED

AND THE NIGHT I SAW HIM RETURN

Hermione saw red as she read the article. Draco's father, Theo's father, Daphne's father, both of Pansy's parents, all of them were on here.

"We tried going out." said Daphne softly. "A bunch of Gryffindors booed us and threw hexes at us in the halls."

"Those bastards." Hermione seethed. "Those utter BASTARDS!"

"I'm sorry." said Luna, a tear rolling down her usually serene face. "Father disagrees with me. He believes that we should be against Voldemort, but I'm with you. You're my friends. Potter must have sent it straight to him."

"It's alright Lulu." Blaise said softly. Even his mother was placed on this even though it was well known that Elora Zabini always stayed neutral.

Vincent and Gregory were sitting in a corner throwing copies of the article into the fire in anger.

"Come with me." she seethed, and they all followed her. She was angry. As other people passed they moved aside for the furious expression on her face and the fact that her hair was sparking with magic pushed them away. Many other Slytherins joined them along the way, wanting to see what was going on.

She went out into the courtyard, knowing that Potter would be there under the tree he always sat under. Weasley saw her, but before he could say anything Hermione had shot a stinging jinx at him.

"Stupefy!" he yelled, whirling around to see who got him, but Hermione let it bounce off her shield.

"What the hell did you do that for?" she snarled. "These people are innocent!"

"No they're not!" he shot back. The courtyard was gathering around us.

"The Imperius!" she yelled. "You're too thick to notice this, but none of us are Death Eaters! If we all rolled up our sleeves right now you wouldn't see a single damn dark mark! But what does it matter? All Slytherins have to be monsters who skin cats, right?"

"Get away!" Weasley snarled. Hermione shot an incarcerous at him and he slumped to the ground.

"I will not!" she shrieked. "You Gryffindors walk around the castle like you own it hexing Slytherins just for their house and then justifying it by the fact that we're Slytherins! What the hell gave you the stereotypical notion that all Slytherins are evil? Why the bloody hell would there be a house just for evil people? Eleven year olds aren't death eaters!" she snarled.

"You're all going to be death eaters anyway!" Potter snarled.

"No we're not!" she snarled, though she knew that many of them would. "We're just kids Potter! You and your lions go around hurting us and Dumbledore doesn't do a damn thing because he favors you! We're just kids! We go on normal dates and play chess and collect fancy jewelry and eat dinner with our friends while laughing! We don't plot to kill you all!"

"You're evil!" Potter yelled back. "I just told the truth!"

"It's not the truth! You're so ignorant! Just because you're a Gryffindor that makes you good and us bad! The world isn't black and white Potter! Grow up!"

"I have! I've faced Voldemort more times than you can count!"

"I highly doubt that!" Hermione scoffed. "You're a moron and half the time you fail your classes! You can't just go around accusing people of being evil without proof! You listen to Dumbledore without paying attention even though he's just as ignorant and biased as you! You've hurt every single Slytherin with that article! We're pariahs for no reason now, and we might be attacked! You're a BASTARD!"

"You won't hurt us." said Ginny Weasley. "You hurt one of us, you hurt all of us." she stepped forward. The other Weasley's joined her. Lee Jordan, a few Hufflepuffs, Ravenclaws, and most of Gryffindor. The other Slytherins stepped behind Hermione as a single unit, holding out their wands. It was like a battlefield. In some part of Hermione's mind she realized this was stupid, but she didn't care.

A Hufflepuff fired off a spell and the fight started. Hermione pulled every curse, hex, jinx, and spell out of her vast repertoire that wasn't dark. Slowly Potter's army came down. Only Potter and the weasley's were holding their own at this point. Hermione kept on shooting, lost in her anger. She looked around and was proud of the work in SM. They were all twirling and using unique and forgotten hexes.

"ENOUGH!" Dumbledore bellowed as he came in, red robes with golden stars shining. Hermione couldn't believe that people didn't notice how biased he was towards Gryffindor. Hell, his robes were in Gryffindor colors! "Miss Granger, if you do not apologize and retract these claims along with take detention I will expel you."

Hermione looked at him with hate. He had backed her into a corner. Even Umbridge couldn't save her, but she didn't want to apologize.

"You expel her you expel me." Daphne scoffed, standing up with her. "She's done nothing wrong, and you're too much of a biased coot to see it." Hermione's heart filled with warmth.

"You'll have to expel me too." said Draco.

"And me." Theo stepped up.

"I too." Luna said, standing forward.

"I'm with Hermione." said Blaise.

"You'll never get us." Flora snarled as she and Hestia stepped forward.

"You mess with one of us you mess with all of us." said Gemma Farley, and all of Slytherin and Luna nodded their agreement.

"And me." said Zacharias Smith, stepping out of the shadows. "Frankly, as a Hufflepuff, I can't take the biased behavior at this school. It isn't fair, and I pride myself on being fair."

"I will not accept this subordination!" Dumbledore said sternly.

"Yes you will." said a seventh year with a large scowl on her face. "Or we all leave. You may not realize it, but Slytherins are people just like you."

"Nowhere in the Sorting Hat Song does it say evil or 'going to kill you all' or 'House of Death Eaters'. We're just ambitious and cunning people. Those aren't bad traits." Pansy scoffed.

"In every class we receive lower points than any of the other houses. You guys call Professor Snape biased, but he just makes up for the loss of Points. Even if you're not aware of it, you do it." said Adelaide Murton.

"You call Slytherin evil, but they're only ever been kind to me." said Luna. "I've been bullied by all the Ravenclaws and no one cared. The Slytherins took me in. Why would evil people do that?"

"You all say we learn Dark magic, but you never ask why." said First year Bella Farley.

"We learn it to protect ourselves." said her friend Madge. "You don't see First year Ravenclaws getting beat up by 5th year Gryffindors, but you'll see Slytherins getting beat up by anybody older than them."

"I was hurt and ambushed in my first year, but Dumbledore didn't do one damn thing all because they were Gryffindors and he said I had no proof. Yet I hear about Slytherin who was expelled for hurting a Gryffindor even though the Gryffindor had just beat up the Slytherins younger sibling prior." Hermione said.

"I have no friends in Hufflepuff. You all think that we're all one big loving family but they're just as biased as everyone. I've been called a pompous prat more times than I can recall. Yet Slytherin is friends with everyone in their house. Frankly, I'd be more proud to call myself a Slytherin than I am a Hufflepuff." said Zacharias Smith, coming to stand with them.

"This was nothing more then inequality proven to you guys. If you don't want everyone to know about it and all of su to leave you won't do anything.." said Draco bravely.

"We may not be the easiest people to get along with, but we know one thing. Slytherin Loyalty!" said Chastity.

Dumbledore glared at them. Hermione could see how mad he was. He was seething, but she knew that was on tenterhooks. Without a word he turned around and left. As a unit the Slytherins upped and left, leaving hexed and bruised people on the ground.

The moment they got back to the common room every single one of them burst into cheers. Cries of "we did it! Justice! Fucking Lions!" were heard in the room.

"You did it." mumbled Draco softly in her ear. "We showed them."

Chapter Text

The Quibbler article and the fight became the only talk of the school for weeks. Umbridge was so angry at the commotion from the article she put an educational degree up on it.

BY ORDER OF THE HIGH INQUISITOR OF HOGWARTS

Any student found in possession of the magazine The Quibbler will be expelled.

The above is in accordance with Educational Decree Number Twenty-seven.

Signed: Dolores Jane Umbridge, High Inquisitor

Hermione was wandering the halls with Blaise when she heard a commotion. Quickly she pulled Blaise into a secret corridor behind a tapestry. Zacharias Smith came running in, his blonde hair askew and his eye bruised. An older Puff followed him in with a Gryffindor.

"The hell were you thinking?" snarled the Gryffindor. "Betraying us like that."

"I was doing the right thing." Smith returned, pulling his wand out. Before he could do anything the Puff disarmed him. Smith backed up against a wall, and the Lion advanced. With sickening precision he lunged, snapping Smith's nose and knocking him to the ground. Smith gritted his teeth.

"You shouldn't have betrayed us." said the Puff. "Siding with Death Eaters is no way to go."

"What about House Loyalty." Smith spat.

"Screw that." The Puff replied, waving his hand dismissively. "You betrayed us."

"Fuck you." Smith spat. The Gryffindor lunged at him again, this time snapping a rib. Hermione had had enough. This attack only brought back bad memories from the attack in her first year.

She lunged out of the tapestry, stunning the Gryffindor before he could move. The Hufflepuff shot a hex at her, and Hermione knew she wouldn't be able to dodge it. At the last minute Blaise put up a shield, giving Hermione enough time to stun him. Quickly she bound them, before turning her attention to Smith.

"Here." she said softly, pulling her wand and healing kit out. Some bruise paste and a spell fixed his eye. "Episkey." she murmured, healing his broken nose. She used a cleaning charm to wipe away the blood, before turning to the hard part: his broken rib. "Episkey." she murmured again. She performed a diagnostic charm and saw that the rib had pierced a long.

"Damn." she hissed. "It pierced a lung. I'll have to take you to a bed for a proper healing."

Before she or Blaise could do anything the teachers came in. Dumbledore's eyes scanned the stunned and bound students, the blood around Smith, and the way Hermione was kneeling next to him with her wand out and came to the worst.

"Miss Granger, I am disappointed to find you attacking a student."

Hermione stared at him incredulously before bursting into laughter. "I'm healing him!" she said as she took large gulps of air. "Those bastards," she pointed at the bound students, "attacked him for siding with us in the affair a few weeks ago."

"And just why were you in this corridor?" he asked with narrowed eyes.

"I was talking with Blaise when we heard noise so we hid to see what was going on." she said impatiently.

"50 points to Slytherin Miss Granger." said Umbridge loftily. "And 50 points to Slytherin Mr Zabini. As these two students are of age, I will be taking them to the Ministry for questioning."

"I think that there is more to the case here." Dumbledore stated. He looked like he was about to go on but a ghost interrupted him.

"There is no more to the story." said the Grey Lady as she glided in. "Miss Granger is correct in what she said."

"I don't-" Dumbledore started.

"She's correct!" said the Fat Friar as he bounced in. "We saw it all. Frankly it disappoints me at the low levels those within my own house are willing to fall to. This is most disappointing."

"I too feel that this act was one of cowardice." said the Gryffindor Ghost Sir Nicholas. "Stop questioning this girl when it is clear she is not in the wrong."

Dumbledore glared at the ghosts. Damn them more ruining his plans.

"Mr Zabini, please help me take these idiots down to the Ministry." Professor Snape commanded, levitating one of the boys. Blaise took the other, and Hermione hid a grin as the boy "accidentally' hit the ceiling hard. The continuous thuds followed him down the hall.

"Uh Professor?" Hermione interrupted. "Zachary needs help. He has a pierced lung. Can I go heal him?"

"I can take it from here." Madame Pomfrey bustled in. Zachary recoiled.

"Frankly," he spat, "I don't trust you very much. I would prefer if Hermione did it."

Hermione gave a large grin before levitating him gently down to the common room. When she entered she was greeted with shock. She was levitating a bleeding Hufflepuff into the common room. Astoria Greengrass broke the silence first.

"What the hell happened?" she shrieked.

"Two idiot students, a Puff and Lion, attacked him for betraying what they call the Light Side." Hermione rolled her eyes. "Those two are now being taken to the Ministry, Dumbledore hates us all more, and I'm pretty sure Smith won't be welcome in his common room anymore.

"Zachary." the bleeding boy said faintly. "Call me Zachary."

"Well Zachary," said the Adelaide, "You're officially a Slytherpuff."

Zachary turned out to be a really good person. Though he came off as standoffish, he had a wicked sense of humor and quickly became good friends with Tracy Davis and Millicent Bulstrode. They had transfigured him a bed in the boys dorm after all the Hufflepuffs had kicked him and his belongings out unceremoniously. They had also used charms to turn all his yellow and black robes to silver and green. None of the teachers could undo the charms, and he became a Slytherin in all sense.

Luna had suffered the same treatment in her house and had also been adopted into Slytherin. She had befriended Chastity and Astoria, along with Theo's little brother Quincy. She had never been happier.

Meanwhile, Professor Umbridge was stalking the school, stopping students at random and demanding that they turn out their books and pockets: Hermione knew she was looking for copies of The Quibbler, and everyone found with one was put in detention.

The next few days proved to be good ones. When people were not discussing the escaped Death Eaters in the corridors, they were laughing at Gryffindor's abysmal performance in their match against Hufflepuff; the Slytherins were singing Weasley is our King' so loudly and frequently that by sundown Filch had banned it from the corridors out of sheer irritation.

Hermione's next Potion, the one that cracked open the shields and gave all memories to another was progressing well, but she had several steps to go. It was hard for her to concentrate with Potter groaning in the room during his abysmal Occlumency attempts, and Hermione finally quit. She could work on it during summer. During those sessions she helped Professor Snape with his grading instead.

On one of the sessions where Potter was doing even more abysmal than usual and Professor Snape was yelling at him Hermione heard a scream.

Snape's head jerked upwards; he was gazing at the ceiling.

'What the-?' he muttered.

The screams were coming from the Entrance Hall; they grew louder as Hermione ran towards the stone steps leading up from the dungeons. When she reached the top she found the Entrance Hall packed; students had come flooding out of the Great Hall, where dinner was still in progress, to see what was going on; others had crammed themselves onto the marble staircase. Hermione pushed forward to the group where all Slytherins stood near the very front and saw that the onlookers had formed a great ring, some of them looking shocked, others even frightened. Professor McGonagall was across the Hall; she looked as though what she was watching made her feel faintly sick.

Professor Trelawney was standing in the middle of the Entrance Hall with her wand in one hand and an empty sherry bottle in the other, looking utterly mad. Her hair was sticking up on end, her glasses were lopsided so that one eye was magnified more than the other; her innumerable shawls and scarves were trailing haphazardly from her shoulders, giving the impression that she was falling apart at the seams. Two large trunks lay on the floor beside her, one of them upside-down; it looked very much as though it had been thrown down the stairs after her. Professor Trelawney was staring, apparently terrified, at a person Hermione loathed- the Pink Toad.

'No!' she shrieked. 'NO! This cannot be happening ... it cannot ... I retuse to accept it!'

'You didn't realise this was coming?' said the high girlish voice, sounding callously amused. 'Incapable though you are of predicting even tomorrows weather, you must surely have realised that your pitiful performance during my inspections, and lack of any improvement, would make it inevitable that you would be sacked?'

'You c-can't!' howled Professor Trelawney, tears streaming down her face from behind her enormous lenses, 'you c-can't sack me! I've b-been here sixteen years! H- Hogwarts is m-my h-home!'

Hermione, though she hated the Professor, felt nothing but pity at this moment for the Divination Professor. Umbridge was a monster.

'It was your home,' said Professor Umbridge, and Hermione was revolted to see the enjoyment stretching her toadlike face as she watched Professor Trelawney sink, sobbing uncontrollably, on to one of her trunks, 'until an hour ago, when the Minister for Magic countersigned your Order of Dismissal. Now kindly remove yourself from this Hall. You are embarrassing us.'

But she stood and watched, with an expression of gloating enjoyment, as Professor Trelawney shuddered and moaned, rocking backwards and forwards on her trunk in paroxysms of grief. Hermione saw a few girls from Gryffindor and Hufflepuff crying. Then she heard footsteps. Professor McGonagall had broken away from the spectators, marched straight up to Professor Trelawney and was patting her firmly on the back while withdrawing a large handkerchief from within her robes.

'There, there, Sybill ... calm down ... blow your nose on this ... it's not as bad as you think, now ... you are not going to have to leave Hogwarts ...'

Hermione couldn't believe the sight. Everyone knew that McGonagall thought Divination was a worthless class and Trelawney batty, but here she was comforting the sobbing woman. Umbridge had gone too far.

'Oh really, Professor McGonagall?' said Umbridge in a deadly voice, taking a few steps forward. 'And your authority for that statement is ... ?'

'That would be mine,' said a deep voice.

The oaken front doors had swung open. Students beside them scuttled out of the way as Dumbledore appeared in the entrance. What he had been doing out in the grounds Hermione could not imagine, but she imagined that he had been watching already and gotten ready to make a good impression. His robes were a somber black for once, and he looked impressive on the misty night, though Hermione was loathe to admit it. Leaving the doors wide open behind him he strode forwards through the circle of onlookers towards Professor Trelawney, tear-stained and trembling, on her trunk, Professor McGonagall alongside her.

'Yours, Professor Dumbledore?' said Umbridge, with a singularly unpleasant little laugh. 'I'm afraid you do not understand the position. I have here-' she pulled a parchment scroll from within her robes '-an Order of Dismissal signed by myself and the Minister for Magic. Under the terms of Educational Decree Number Twenty-three, the High Inquisitor of Hogwarts has the power to inspect, place upon probation and sack any teacher she-that is to say, I-feel is not performing to the standards required by the Ministry of Magic. I have decided that Professor Trelawney is not up to scratch. I have dismissed her.'

Dumbledore continued to smile, and Hermione knew that he had known this would happen. He had a plan. He looked down at Professor Trelawney, who was still sobbing and choking on her trunk, and said, 'You are quite right, of course, Professor Umbridge. As High Inquisitor you have every right to dismiss my teachers. You do not, however, have the authority to send them away from the castle. I am afraid,' he went on, with a courteous little bow, 'that the power to do that still resides with the Headmaster, and it is my wish that Professor Trelawney continue to live at Hogwarts.'

At this, Professor Trelawney gave a wild little laugh in which a hiccough was barely hidden.

'No-no, I'll g -go, Dumbledore! I sh-shall-leave Hogwarts and s-seek my fortune elsewhere-'

'No,' said Dumbledore sharply. 'It is my wish that you remain, Sybill.'

He turned to Professor McGonagall.

'Might I ask you to escort Sybill back upstairs, Professor McGonagall?'

'Of course,' said McGonagall. 'Up you get, Sybill ...'

Professor Sprout came hurrying forwards out of the crowd and grabbed Professor Trelawney's other arm. Together, they guided her past Umbridge and up the marble stairs. Professor Flitwick went scurrying after them, his wand held out before him; he squeaked 'Locomotor trunks!' and Professor Trelawney's luggage rose into the air and proceeded up the staircase after her, Professor Flitwick bringing up the rear.

Professor Umbridge was standing stock still, staring at Dumbledore, who continued to smile benignly.

'And what,' she said, in a whisper that carried all around the Entrance Hall, 'are you going to do with her once I appoint a new Divination teacher who needs her lodgings?'

'Oh, that won't be a problem,' said Dumbledore pleasantly. 'You see, I have already found us a new Divination teacher, and he will prefer lodgings on the ground floor.'

'You've found- ?' said Umbridge shrilly. 'You've found? Might I remind you, Dumbledore, that under Educational Decree Number Twenty-two-'

Hermione thought that Umbitch looked batshit crazy.

'The Ministry has the right to appoint a suitable candidate if-and only if-the Headmaster is unable to find one,' said Dumbledore. 'And I am happy to say that on this occasion I have succeeded. May I introduce you?'

He turned to face the open front doors, through which night mist was now drifting. Hermione heard hooves. There was a shocked murmur around the Hall and those nearest the doors hastily moved even further backwards, some of them tripping over in their haste to clear a path for the newcomer.

Through the mist came a face Hermione recognized as that of a young centaur: white-blond hair and astonishingly blue eyes; the head and torso of a man joined to the palomino body of a horse.

'This is Firenze,' said Dumbledore happily to a thunderstruck Umbridge. 'I think you'll find him suitable.'

Hermione could have laughed at the expression on her face; everyone knew her fear and loathing of half-breeds.

"I may hate Dumbledore, but what he did to Umbridge was amazing." Draco laughed in the common room.

"She will want revenge." said Zachary, who was perched on a couch as the whole room split into small discussions about the events. "She will get her revenge on Dumbledore for appointing a new teacher without consulting her. You saw the look on her face when she saw Firenze."

"Where's the new Divination classroom?" Hermione asked.

"Classroom Eleven on the ground floor so Firenze can reach it." said Blaise. "Want to come check it out before classes start?"

"Sure." Hermione grinned. She, Blaise, Draco, Daphne, and Zachary, who was in Ancient Runes with Hermione, went down there. The classroom made Hermione gape.

The classroom floor had become springily mossy and trees were growing out of it; their leafy branches fanned across the ceiling and windows, so that the room was full of slanting shafts of soft, dappled, green light. Hermione saw that people could rest against tree trunks or boulders. In the middle of the clearing, where there were no trees, stood a place where Hermione assumed Firenze would stand.

"Well," Hermione said, looking around, "You can't say that class won't be interesting now."

"It was so unique." said Draco after he met up with Hermione and Zachary after class. "We burnt sage and mallowsweet in the class while looking for shapes in the smoke."

"Sounds impractical." said Zach crisply. "We're working on destructive runes right now."

"I blew a desk up." Hermione smirked.

"You blew a desk up?" Theo asked with a dash of awe in his voice.

"BOOM!" Hermione said, making a blow up symbol with her hands. "Burnt it to crisp, and got full credit for it."

"I wish I was there." he mumbled.

As a dull March blurred into a squally April, Hermione's life became concentrated on work again. Umbridge had continued attending all Care of Magical Creatures lessons. Meanwhile, as the teachers and Hermione persisted in reminding them, the OWLs were drawing ever nearer. All the fifth-years were suffering from stress to some degree, but Hannah Abbott became the first to receive a Calming Draught from Madam Pomfrey after she burst into tears during Herbology and sobbed that she was too stupid to take exams and wanted to leave school now.

They had laughed about it in private. Zach told them that she always panicked like this but ended up doing well. He and Tracy were now dating, and the two had never been happier.

The SM was doing amazing. They had gone so far nearly everyone was a year or more ahead of their level. They had decided to take a break from battle work and move onto Patronuses, which Hermione had been eager to do. She had taught the lesson, and demonstrated her phoenix.

"They're beautiful!" Hestia giggled as her panda lumbered around the room with Flora's identical panda. Chastity was playing with her shark, and Luna turned out to have a Nargle for her patronus. They were small creatures that reminded Hermione of the Cheshire Cat, but with wings. Draco had a dragon, and Daphne had an elegant raven soaring the room.

Suddenly an alarm sounded the room. It was set to tell them when Umbridge was approaching. Quickly all the Patronuses dissipated and they all set down to reading.

"Hello!" she said in her sickly sweet voice. "I needed some help from faithful student such as yourselves in catching some troublemakers who have violated one of my educational degrees. Would anyone like to come?"

With a small nod Draco, Vince, and Greg stepped forward. Pansy, Zachary, Millicent, Tracy, Will, and Stephen Gamp joined them.

"Good!" she said with a small clap. When they came back an hour later they were all grinning like loons.

"Potter was holding something like the SM but he called it the DA. Dumbledore's Army." Draco grinned.

"They're all in trouble, and Potter was taken to Dumbledore's office." Will grinned.

"All of us were also invited to join the Inquisitorial Squad. We basically are allowed to take and give points like we want, and give detentions."

"Slytherins rule." Pansy smirked.

"Do you know who was in the office?" Daphne asked.

"Auror Kingsley Shacklebolt, Minister Fudge, Junior Assistant to the Minister Percy Weasley, Auror Dawlish, and the traitor Marietta Edgecombe." said Luna serenely. "The Nargles told me."

They all stared at her. She stared back.

BY ORDER OF THE MINISTRY OF MAGIC

Dolores Jane Umbridge (High Inquisitor) has replaced Albus Dumbledore as Head of Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry.

The above is in accordance with Educational Decree Number Twenty-eight.

Signed: Cornelius Oswald Fudge, Minister for Magic

The notices had gone up all around the school overnight, but they did not explain how every single person within the castle seemed to know that Dumbledore had overcome two Aurors, the High Inquisitor, the Minister for Magic and his Junior Assistant to escape. No matter where Hermione went within the castle, the sole topic of conversation was Dumbledore's flight, and though some of the details may have gone awry in the retelling (Harry overheard one second-year girl assuring another that Fudge was now lying in St. Mungo's with a pumpkin for a head) it was surprising how accurate the rest of their information was. Lucius Malfoy had gotten the entire story from Fudge and sent the details to Draco, who told the rest of Slytherin. Everybody knew, for instance, that Potter and Edgecombe were the only students to have witnessed the scene in Dumbledore's office and. Edgecombe was now in the Hospital wing because Moon had hexed her for tattling to the teachers.

"The Bloody Baron told me that Umbridge couldn't get into the Headmaster's office." Pansy told them.

As they walked around, they heard The Weasley's, Potter, and MacMillan in converation.

'Oh, I expect she really fancied herself sitting up there in the Head's office,' said Ginny Weasley was saying viciously. 'Lording it over all the other teachers, the stupid puffed-up, power-crazy old-'

'Now, do you really want to finish that sentence, Weasley?'

Draco, Hermione, Vince, Greg, Blaise, Luna, Pansy, and Daphne came out from where they were.

'Afraid I'm going to have to dock a few points from Gryffindor and Hufflepuff,' Draco drawled.

'It's only teachers who can dock points from houses, Malfoy,' said MacMillan at once.

'Yeah, we're prefects, too, remember?' snarled Weasley.

'I know prefects can't dock points, Weasel King,' sneered Draco. Vince and Greg sniggered. 'But members of the Inquisitorial Squad-'

'The what?' said Weaselette sharply.

'The Inquisitorial Squad, Granger,' said Malfoy, pointing towards a tiny silver 'I' on his robes just beneath his prefect's badge. 'A select group of students who are supportive of the Ministry of Magic, hand-picked by Professor Umbridge. Anyway, members of the Inquisitorial Squad do have the power to dock points ... so, Weasley, I'll have five from you for being rude about our new Headmistress. Macmillan, five for contradicting me. Five because I don't like you, Potter. Weasley, your shirt's untucked, so I'll have another five for that. Oh yeah, I forgot, you're a Blood Traitor, Weaselette, so ten off for that.'

"But 5 points to the Weaslette for insulting the Pink Toad." Pansy smirked viciously.

"Guys!" Gemma Farley told the room as a whole back after dinner. "Abraham Montague is missing! Last he was seen taking points off the Weasley Twins before they stuffed him into a cabinet!"

Hermione swore viciously. "Have you told the teachers?"

"His parents have already been called and people are looking for him." she said.

"She's gone too far." said Draco as he entered the room. No one had any doubts about who he was talking about. "She's having us read all mail in the castle now too. Everyone be careful."

Hermione couldn't believe it. That was a violation of privacy!

"That's outrageous." Daphne voiced what they were all thinking.

"Don't touch any of the mail." Hermione said sharply. "Especially Slytherin mail. Only do it when Umbitch is watching. Even then only look at people like Potter and Weasley."

"I have to tell father." said Theo determinedly.

"Then Umbridge won't trust us." said Adelaide. "We need to wait until the year is over, then destroy her."

BOOM!

Hermione heard a loud noise and ran downstairs to see what the bloody hell was going on. People were running and screaming.

Pandemonium reigned. Somebody (and Hermione had a very shrewd idea who) had set off what seemed to be an enormous crate of enchanted fireworks.

Dragons comprised entirely of green and gold sparks were soaring up and down the corridors, emitting loud fiery blasts and bangs as they went; shocking-pink Catherine wheels five feet in diameter were whizzing lethally through the air like so many flying saucers; rockets with long tails of brilliant silver stars were ricocheting off the walls; sparklers were writing swear words in midair of their own accord; firecrackers were exploding like mines everywhere Hermione looked, and instead of burning themselves out, fading from sight or fizzling to a halt, these pyrotechnical miracles seemed to be gaining in energy and momentum the longer he watched.

Filch and Umbridge were standing, apparently transfixed in horror, halfway down the stairs. As Hermione watched, one of the larger Catherine wheels seemed to decide that what it needed was more room to manoeuvre; it whirled towards Umbridge and Filch with a sinister 'wheeeeeeeeee'. They both yelled with fright and ducked, and it soared straight out of the window behind them and off across the grounds. Meanwhile, several of the dragons and a large purple bat that was smoking ominously took advantage of the open door at the end of the corridor to escape towards the second floor.

'Hurry, Filch, hurry!' shrieked Umbridge, 'they'll be all over the school unless we do something-Stupefy!'

A jet of red light shot out of the end of her wand and hit one of the rockets. Instead of freezing in midair, it exploded with such force that it blasted a hole in a painting of a soppy-looking witch in the middle of a meadow; she ran for it just in time, reappearing seconds later squashed into the next painting, where a couple of wizards playing cards stood up hastily to make room for her.

'Don't Stun them, Filch!' shouted Umbridge angrily, for all the world as though it had been his incantation.

'Right you are, Headmistress!' wheezed Filch, who as a Squib could no more have Stunned the fireworks than swallowed them. He dashed to a nearby cupboard, pulled out a broom and began swatting at the fireworks in midair; within seconds the head of the broom was ablaze. Hermione was barely controlling her laughter.

She saw Potter slip into a tapestry, and followed him. Hearing a little conversation she slipped in. The Weasley Twins and Potter looked at her in shock. She smirked.

"I may hate you, but if you're selling those I'll take three. 20 points to Gryffindor." and with that she ducked out, leaving some very confused boys. Lucky for her Draco had used a little magic to give her the right to take and give points too.

The fireworks continued to burn and to spread all over the school that afternoon. Though they caused plenty of disruption, particularly the firecrackers, the other teachers didn't seem to mind them very much.

'Dear, dear,' said Professor McGonagall sardonically, as one of the dragons soared around her classroom, emitting loud bangs and exhaling flame. 'Miss Davis, would you mind running along to the Headmistress and informing her that we have an escaped firework in our classroom?'

The upshot of it all was that Professor Umbridge spent her first afternoon as Headmistress running all over the school answering the summonses of the other teachers, none of whom seemed able to rid their rooms of the fireworks without her. When the final bell rang and they were heading back to Slytherin Dungeon with their bags, Hermione saw, with immense satisfaction, a dishevelled and soot-blackened Umbridge tottering sweaty-faced from Professor Flitwick's classroom.

'Thank you so much, Professor!' said Professor Flitwick in his squeaky little voice. 'I could have got rid of the sparklers myself, of course, but I wasn't sure whether or not I had the authority.'

Beaming, he closed his classroom door in her snarling face. Hermione just laughed.

Chapter Text

Hermione was watching Professor Snape try to teach Potter Occlumency again, though he was hopeless.

Snape's office door banged open and Draco Malfoy sped in.

'Professor Snape, sir-oh-sorry-'

Draco was looking at Snape and Potter in some surprise. He grinned at Hermione.

'It's all right, Draco,' said Snape, lowering his wand. 'Potter is here for a little remedial Potions.'

Draco looked gleeful.

'I didn't know,' he said, grinning rather cruelly at Potter.

'Well, Draco, what is it?' asked Snape.

'It's Professor Umbridge, sir-she needs your help,' said Draco.

'They've found Montague, sir, he's turned up jammed inside a toilet on the fourth floor.'

'How did he get in there?' demanded Snape.

'I don't know, sir, he's a bit confused.'

'Very well, very well. Potter,' said Snape, 'we shall resume this lesson tomorrow evening.'

Hermione followed them out. There they found Abraham shivering in some blankets and muttering about the Weasley Twins. After a diagnosis Professor Snape looked at them grimly.

"He'll have to go to St. Mungos. It appears that the Weasley Twins stuffed him in a Vanishing Cabinet, and he was stuck in limbo until he got enough magic to apparate out. He has splinched his leg off and I'm afraid that in the Vanishing Cabinet we won't be able to retrieve it. You will have to get a magical one."

"Abraham?" Hermione asked softly, leaning down. "I'm sorry. I'll get the Twins. Promise."

He gave a fleeting grin, and Hermione wiped a lone tear away before spinning around and marching to the Common Room.

"Listen up!" she yelled, getting the attention of everyone. "I just found Abraham Montague." There were cheers in the room, especially from the Quidditch Team because they had a game coming up. "Wait. He won't be back. He has to go to St. Mungos to get his leg replaced. He was stuck in a Vanishing Cabinet and managed to apparate out, but he lost his leg in the process. And it's because of the Weasley Twins."

"We need to get revenge!" said Miles. "A game is coming up and he won't be able to play. I know that Abraham wanted to play professional, but he won't be able to! He's also our friend."

"Leave that to me." Hermione gave a devilish smirk.

Hogwarts Student Admitted to St. Mungos!

By Rita Skeeter

Hello my friends, and I have more word from Hogwarts. Yesterday Slytherin 7th year Abraham Montague was found in a toilet after having been missing for nearly a month. Where was he you may ask?

"The Weasley Twins stuffed him in a Vanishing Cabinet." says Hermione Granger. "He was forced to apparate out, but he lost a leg that can't be retrieved."

Just who are these Weasley Twins? My sources confirm they are none other than 7th year Gryffindors Fred Weasley and George Weasley. They were part of an attack on young Draco Malfoy 2 years ago as many of you will recall. Maybe they don't realize, but they have done serious damage.

"I know that Abraham wanted to play Professional." says his friend Miles Bletchely. "Now he can't because he has to get a prosthetic. Those Twins have crushed his dream."

Just what do the Twins have to say about this? Should they continue endangering the rest of the school, or will they be punished? Yours truly, Rita Skeeter.

The backlash of the article was amazing. The Weasley Twins were hustled off by Umbridge, and weren't seen for the rest of the day. Many of the school were glaring at them, and Hermione knew their chances of getting a job had been severely reduced.

"You never did tell us." Daphne said absently a few days later at breakfast. "What happened at Viktor's wedding?"

Hermione grinned.

Flashback.

"I'm very glad you could come Hermione." Viktor told her as she sat down with Draco. Hermione wore a deep purple dress with golden designs and a beaded neckline. Her hair was pulled back into a bun with a few strands framing her face. Draco wore black dress robes.

"I'm glad I could come too." she smiled, before taking a seat. Soon the wedding started. Viktor stood up front with traditional Durmstrang red robes and furs. Then his bride Ana came in. She was resplendent.

It had lacy half sleeves that were edged with diamonds and a sheer neckline that was also edged with diamonds. The dress had a tight bodice and flowed out to the floor. It was edged in white lace. Her face was pale and her auburn hair pulled back. She was gorgeous. She went up to Viktor.

"Recite your vows." said the Preacher, all in Bulgarian of course.

"I bind myself to you in heart, soul, and mind. I will be with you in times of trouble, prosperity, and anguish. I will never waver, but stay firm."

Viktor said the same thing. Hermione smiled. The two were obviously in love.

"If there is no person who objects to this marriage, and then I now announce you man and wife! Foedere in caritate!"

The two shared a kiss and were showered in the silver glow of a bonding before they ran off like a normal wedding. Hermione grinned during the reception and danced with Draco to an English Song.

And I'll love you for a thousand years,

"You know, this is a beautiful song." Draco breathed in her ear. "We should have it at our wedding."

"Are you proposing to me?" Hermione asked cheekily.

"Maybe." he said softly, and Hermione wrapped herself in his arms, feeling very warm.

Flashback End.

"That sounds fun." said Pansy dreamily. That evening in Professor Snape's lesson he was angry.

"Miss Granger, I expect you to teach Potter Occlumency now. He is such a dunderhead that I can not teach him."

Hermione sensed that something had angered him, but chose not to ask. "Very well sir." she replied. Soon it was time for her first lesson teaching him.

"Close your eyes." she instructed. "Blank your mind out and find your mindscape. Legilimens!"

And Hermione was going down, down, flashes of memories she didn't really understand, and his mindscape. Bloody hell it was unorganized! It was just a spiderweb of magic with memories floating here and there. She made a speedy exit.

"Bloody hell!" she yelped. "Potter, you mindscape is so disorganized! And unprotected! Come back when you organize it!"

He glared a t her before slouching out. "Sorry professor." she muttered. "But that is a horrible mindscape."

"Don't worry Miss Granger." he saw drolly. "I expected it of Potter."

Soon it was time for the Easter Holidays. Since the Manor was still loaded with Azkaban Escapees who were healing, they were told to stay at Hogwarts.

The weather grew breezier, brighter and warmer as the Easter holidays passed, but Hermione, along with the rest of the fifth- and seventh-years, was trapped inside, revising, traipsing back and forth to the library. She had found her own little corner surrounded by books and was busy reviewing for all the tests. She planned to do well on all of them, but would drop History of Magic, Astronomy, and Care of Magical Creatures.

Hermione enjoyed her time with Draco, as did he. They both studied together along with other activities and would also wander around Hogwarts.

As though to underline the importance of their upcoming examinations, a batch of pamphlets, leaflets and notices concerning various wizarding careers appeared on the tables in slytherin Dungeon shortly before the end of the holidays, along with yet another notice on the board, which read:

CAREERS ADVICE

All fifth-years are required to attend a short meeting with their Head of House during the first week of the summer term to discuss their future careers. Times of individual appointments are listed below.

Hermione was listed for COMC next Thursday, and was glad to get a chance to skip that class. Once her friends were back she spent her time pouring over pamphlets with them.

"Well Hermione will easily get healing." said Blaise proudly. He was immersed in a leaflet that carried the crossed bone-and-wand emblem of St. Mungo's on its front. 'It says here you need at least "E" at NEWT level in Potions, Herbology, Transfiguration, Charms and Defence Against the Dark Arts. Hermione has them all."

"Thanks!" Hermione beamed at her friend. "But I was hoping to go more into the research area. Making potions and keeping healing more as a volunteer thing."

"Hey, listen to this: Are you seeking a challenging career involving travel, adventure and substantial, danger-related treasure bonuses? Then consider a position with Gringotts Wizarding Bank, who are currently recruiting Curse-Breakers for thrilling opportunities abroad ...They want Arithmancy, though; you could do it, Zachary!" Tracy Davis exclaimed.

"I was more interested in the Department of Magical Relations." he said, not really paying attention. Soon it was Tuesday, and time for Potions. The rest of the class was brewing an Invigoration Draught while Hermione took a break from her research and absently mixed in ingredients.

Then she got it. Quickly she added some Erumpent Horn Fluid and Jobberknoll feathers. The potion turned a bright blue. She mixed it a little and it went to the color she needed: a deeper royal blue. This was it! The Jobberknoll feathers centered the potion in the mind, and the Erumpent Horn fluid would explode the shields! The information transmutation was already done with some Boomslang Skin, Demiguise tears, and some leeches. She was so close! All she needed was to center it now so it didn't kill the person. That was going to take the longest, and she still had to mix the two serums.

A few days later Hermione found herself entering Professor Snape's office for her career advice.

"Hi Professor." she said. "You probably already know my chosen career of Potions Mistress, though I do want to work in Healing somehow too."

Before she could continue someone sniffed in the corner. Umbridge was sitting there, a clipboard on her knee, a fussy little pie-frill around her neck and a small, horribly smug smile on her face.

"Sit down." Professor Snape commanded. Hermione sat down. "Now, I already know that you aspire to become a Potions Mistress and work in Healing?"

"Yes Professor." Hermione replied.

"Well, as you might know, for both of these you need Potions, and the extra Herbology, Defense, Transfiguration, and a few others. I have no doubt you read the pamphlet."

"Of course Professor."

She heard a little cough from the Pink Toad and suppressed a sigh.

"Yes Dolores?" Professor Snape asked in his droll voice.

"Well, I was wondering if Miss Granger has the right temperament for this." she gave a little giggle. "After all, with the display a few months ago, it brings into question her anger issues and whether she can be trusted around explosive cauldrons while actually testing a potion. Add to that Healing in which Miss Granger will have to work with people and I don't know if she'll be able to get what she wants." the woman gave a sickly sweet smile.

Hermione felt her anger bubbling up and quickly pushed it all into a chest in her mindscape. She would let the anger out later. That horrible excuse for a human! How could she do this? Hermione knew that her display would get her in trouble, but for it to actually affect her future was more than she bargained for. She stayed quiet.

"You'll find, Dolores," Professor Snape started, his voice loaded with sarcasm and contempt on her name, "That Miss Granger has already shown aptitude in Potions. As you may recall, she is already working on her Mastery, and her healing of students such as Zacharias Smith and her hobby as Healer for the Quidditch Team no doubt shows that she can accomplish the goals she has lain forth."

"Yes" Umbitch gave a little giggle, "But that was at school. We're talking about the real world!"

"And she's already gone to a potions master convention and lived to tell the tale." Snape returned.

"You'll find that some of us," she put emphasis on the some of us part, "won't stand by and let a girl of such disgusting breeding and anger issues take such a high spot when a proper noble wizard can take it."

Hermione glared at her, wishing that she could evaporate the bitch. This was about blood status!

"You'll find that your word doesn't count for much in the proper echelons of society." Snape returned, and Hermione sensed the barely hidden anger. "Miss Granger, please leave before you witness something unsatisfactory."

"What the hell was that?" Hermione wondered after one of her DADA lessons with the Pink Toad. She ran down the marble staircase and found what looked like most of the school assembled there. Quickly she shuffled to her friends.

It was just like the night when Trelawney had been sacked. Students were standing all around the walls in a great ring (some of them, Hermione noticed, covered in a substance that looked very like Stinksap); teachers and ghosts were also in the crowd. Prominent among the onlookers were members of the Inquisitorial Squad, who were all looking exceptionally pleased with themselves, and Peeves, who was bobbing overhead, gazed down at Fred and George Weasley who stood in the middle of the floor with the unmistakeable look of two people who had just been cornered.

Draco grinned at her from the Inquisitorial Squad, and made a motion to the Twins. Hermione smirked viciously. Finally some payback.

'So!' said Umbridge triumphantly. 'So-you think it amusing to turn a school corridor into a swamp, do you?'

'Pretty amusing, yeah,' said one of the twins, looking up at her without the slightest sign of fear.

Filch elbowed his way closer to Umbridge, almost crying with happiness.

'I've got the form, Headmistress,' he said hoarsely, waving a piece of parchment. 'I've got the form and I've got the whips waiting ... oh, let me do it now ...'

Hermione couldn't believe what she was hearing. Whipping? That had to be illegal!

'Very good, Argus,' she said. 'You two,' she went on, gazing down at the two troublemakers, 'are about to learn what happens to wrongdoers in my school.'

'You know what?' said the same twin as before. 'I don't think we are.'

He turned to his twin.

'George,' said the one who had to be Fred, 'I think we've outgrown full-time education.'

'Yeah, I've been feeling that way myself,' said George lightly.

'Time to test our talents in the real world, d'you reckon?' asked Fred. Hermione decided to call them by their real names to take confusion away.

'Definitely,' said George.

And before Umbridge could say a word, they raised their wands and said together:

'Accio brooms!'

Hermione heard a loud crash in the distance. Fred and George's broomsticks, one still trailing the heavy chain and iron peg with which Umbridge had fastened them to the wall, were hurtling along the corridor towards their owners; they turned left, streaked down the stairs and stopped sharply in front of the twins, the chain clattering loudly on the flagged stone floor.

'We won't be seeing you,' Fred told Professor Umbridge, swinging his leg over his broomstick.

'Yeah, don't bother to keep in touch,' said George, mounting his own.

Fred looked around at the assembled students, at the silent, watchful crowd.

'It anyone fancies buying a Portable Swamp, as demonstrated upstairs, come to number ninety-three, Diagon Alley-Weasley's Wizarding Wheezes,' he said in a loud voice. 'Our new premises!'

'Special discounts to Hogwart's students who swear they're going to use our products to get rid of this old bat,' added George, pointing at Professor Umbridge.

'STOP THEM!' shrieked Umbridge, but it was too late. As the Inquisitorial Squad closed in, Fred and George kicked off from the floor, shooting fifteen feet into the air, the iron peg swinging dangerously below. Fred looked across the hall at the poltergeist bobbing on his level above the crowd.

'Give her hell from us, Peeves.'

And Peeves, who Hermione had never seen take an order from a student before, swept his belled hat from his head and sprang to a salute as Fred and George wheeled about to tumultuous applause from the students below and sped out of the open front doors into the glorious sunset.

"10 points to Gryffindor." she murmured with a small grin as she watched Umbitch turn purple with fury. Anything was worth seeing the toad that angry.

The story of Fred and George's flight to freedom was retold so often over the next few days that Hermione could tell it would soon become the stuff of Hogwart's legend: within a week, even those who had been eye-witnesses were half-convinced they had seen the twins dive-bomb Umbridge on their brooms and pelt her with Dungbombs before zooming out of the doors. In the immediate aftermath of their departure there was a great wave of talk about copying them. Hermione frequently heard students saying things like, 'Honestly, some days I just feel like jumping on my broom and leaving this place,' or else, 'One more lesson like that and I might just do a Weasley.'

Both Flora and Hestia had raided the castle and taken every single one of the Weasley's hidden prank items and were setting them off slowly, leaving no traces, and keeping Umbridge furious.

Fred and George had made sure nobody was likely to forget them too soon. For one thing, they had not left instructions on how to remove the swamp that now filled the corridor on the fifth floor of the east wing. Umbridge and Filch had been observed trying different means of removing it but without success. Eventually, the area was roped off and Filch, gnashing his teeth furiously, was given the task of punting students across it to their classrooms. Hermione was certain that teachers like McGonagall or Flitwick could have removed the swamp in an instant but, just as in the case of Fred and George's Fireworks, they seemed to prefer to watch Umbridge struggle.

Then there were the two large broom-shaped holes in Umbridge's office door, through which Fred and George's brooms had smashed to rejoin their masters. Filch fitted a new door and removed Potter's brooms, relocating it to the dungeon and setting a security troll to guard it. Hermione thought that was overboard.

Inspired by Fred and George's example, a great number of students were now vying for the newly vacant positions of Troublemakers-in-Chief. In spite of the new door, somebody managed to slip a hairy-snouted Niffler into Umbridge's office, which promptly tore the place apart in its search for shiny objects, leapt on Umbridge when she entered and tried to gnaw the rings off her stubby fingers. Dungbombs and Stink Pellets were dropped so frequently in the corridors that it became the new fashion for students to perform Bubble-Head Charms on themselves before leaving lessons, which ensured them a supply of fresh air, even though it gave them all the peculiar appearance of wearing upside-down goldfish bowls on their heads.

Flora and Hestia were constant, and everyday at least one box of fireworks would be set off in the castle and stay whizzing until late at night. The Carrow Twins had changed the charms slightly so the fireworks spelled 'ALL HAIL UMBITCH!'

Filch prowled the corridors with a horsewhip ready in his hands, desperate to catch miscreants, but the problem was that there were now so many of them he never knew which way to turn. The Inquisitorial Squad did nearly nothing to help him, and delighted in watching him struggle.

Meanwhile, it became clear just how many Skiving Snackboxes Fred and George had managed to sell before leaving Hogwarts. Umbridge only had to enter her classroom for the students assembled there to faint, vomit, develop dangerous fevers or else spout blood from both nostrils. Shrieking with rage and frustration, she attempted to trace the mysterious symptoms to their source, but the students told her stubbornly they were suffering from 'Umbridge-itis'. After putting four successive classes in detention and failing to discover their secret, she was forced to give up and allow the bleeding, swooning, sweating and vomiting students to leave her classes in droves.

But not even the users of the Snackboxes could compete with that master of chaos, Peeves, who seemed to have taken Fred's parting words deeply to heart. Cackling madly, he soared through the school, upending tables, bursting out of blackboards, toppling statues and vases; twice he shut Mrs. Norris inside a suit of armour, from which she was rescued, yowling loudly, by the furious caretaker. Peeves smashed lanterns and snuffed out candles, juggled burning torches over the heads of screaming students, caused neatly stacked piles of parchment to topple into fires or out of windows; flooded the second floor when he pulled off all the taps in the bathrooms, dropped a bag of tarantulas in the middle of the Great Hall during breakfast and, whenever he fancied a break, spent hours at a time floating along after Umbridge and blowing loud raspberries every time she spoke.

Hermione just laughed through it all. Umbridge was angry and she was able to skip out on the periods with the Skiving Snackboxes that she had Owl Ordered through special mail under a secret name from the two.

None of the staff but Filch seemed to be stirring themselves to help her. Indeed, a week after Fred and George's departure Hermione witnessed Professor McGonagall walking right past Peeves, who was determinedly loosening a crystal chandelier, and could have sworn he heard her tell the poltergeist out of the corner of her mouth, 'It unscrews the other way.'

Abraham still hadn't recovered from his sojourn in the toilet, though he was getting there. It was obvious he would have to repeat a year, though he wouldn't be playing Quidditch any time soon.

Potter had come back for Occlumency nearly a month later after the incident, and Hermione found that his mindscape was barely organized; most of his memories had just been stuffed into cupboards and chests. He continued to fail rapidly at everything in that branch.

The final game of the season, Gryffindor v Ravenclaw was approaching. Slytherin had narrowly beat Hufflepuff last game, and they were looking forward to taunting Weasley in the Gryffindor Ravenclaw Game.

Lee Jordan, who had been very dispirited since the Weasley Twins had left, was commentating as usual. As the teams zoomed out on to the pitch he named the players with something less than his usual gusto.

'... Bradley ... Davies ... Chang,' he said.

Hermione grinned to Pansy and they got organized for their singing.

'And they're off!' said Lee. 'And Davies takes the Quaffle immediately, Ravenclaw Captain Davies with the Quaffle, he dodges Johnson, he dodges Bell, he dodges Spinnet as well ... he's going straight for goal! He's going to shoot-and-and-' Lee swore very loudly. 'And he's scored.'

'Weasley cannot save a thing

He cannot block a single ring ... '

The game continued in much the same manner. Weasley's broom was old, and he was a bad player. Even though Gryffindor caught the Snitch Ravenclaw won 200-180. This meant that Slytherin had won the Quidditch Cup.

As Miles hoisted the cup into the air and every Slytherin cheered, and Hermione danced and cheered with them.

"We did it." said Draco roughly in her ear, kissing it softly.

"We did it." Hermione echoed with a giddy laugh, kissing him hard. Hermione knew only one thing- she had made another Patronus Memory. One of Draco, and happiness, and dancing, and victory, and pure sweet peppermint.

Chapter Text

Draco's euphoria over winning the Quidditch Cup lasted for nearly a week. All of her friends were starting to get tired of it. As it was another fine, warm day, they persuaded him to join them in revising under the large oak tree near the lake. Hermione had a chance to pull out the summer clothes Narcissa sent her for modeling and keeping, so she wore a short blue skirt and a red tank top.

The castle grounds were gleaming in the sunlight as though freshly painted; the cloudless sky smiled at itself in the smoothly sparkling lake; the satin green lawns rippled occasionally in a gentle breeze. June had arrived, but to the fifth-years this meant only one thing: their OWLs were upon them at last.

Hermione had been fretting and studying and poring over notes and ignoring everything else until finally Theo snapped.

"Hermione! You're the smartest 5th year! You're not going to fail your bloody exams so calm down!"

Hermione had given a small giggle before spending the rest of the evening reviewing much to the exasperation of her friends. Their teachers were no longer setting them homework; lessons were devoted to revising those topics the teachers thought most likely to come up in the exams. The purposeful, feverish atmosphere drove nearly everything but the OWLs from their minds.

Ernie Macmillan had developed the annoying habit of interrogating people on how much they were studying. After he tried telling Zachary that he wasn't studying enough Zacharias snapped and punched him in the nose, shutting him up much to the relief of everyone else.

Meanwhile, a flourishing black-market trade in aids to concentration, mental agility and wakefulness had sprung up among the fifth- and seventh-years. Eddie Carmichael, a Ravenclaw 6th year, was selling a stupid elixir that actually did nothing. Harold Dingle was selling Powdered Dragon Claw. Hermione confiscated them both.

They received their examination timetables and details of the procedure for OWLs during their next Transfiguration lesson.

'As you can see,' Professor McGonagall told the class as they copied down the dates and times of their exams from the blackboard, 'your OWLs are spread over two successive weeks. You will sit the theory papers in the mornings and the practice in the afternoons. Your practical Astronomy examination will, of course, take place at night.

'Now, I must warn you that the most stringent anti-cheating charms have been applied to your examination papers. Auto-Answer Quills are banned from the examination hall, as are Remembralls, Detachable Cribbing Cuffs and Self-Correcting Ink. Every year, I am afraid to say, seems to harbour at least one student who thinks that he or she can get around the Wizarding Examinations Authority's rules. I can only hope that it is nobody in Gryffindor. Our new-Headmistress-' Professor McGonagall pronounced the word with the same look on her face that reminded Hermione of someone smelling manure '-has asked the Heads of House to tell their students that cheating will be punished most severely-because, of course, your examination results will reflect upon the Headmistress's new regime at the school-'

Professor McGonagall gave a tiny sigh; Hermione saw the nostrils of her sharp nose flare.

'-however, that is no reason not to do your very best. You have your own futures to think about.'

'Please, Professor,' said Hermione, her hand in the air, 'when will we find out our results?'

'An owl will be sent to you some time in July,' said Professor McGonagall.

Their first examination, Theory of Charms, was scheduled for Monday morning. Hermione was completely stressed and was reviewing as much as she could until finally Pansy took all her books away and forced her to sit for and SM session in Charms.

Dinner was a subdued affair that night. Most students were reviewing while they ate, and Hermione was practicing long distant charms on Ron Weasley to make him look stupid. Suddenly she stopped and dropped everything she had with a loud crash. Everyone jumped.

'Oh, my goodness,' she said faintly, staring into the Entrance Hall. 'Is that them? Is that the examiners?'

Everyone whipped around to where she was staring. Through the doors to the Great Hall they could see Umbridge standing with a small group of ancient-looking witches and wizards. Umbridge, Hermione was pleased to see, looked rather nervous.

"Wanna get a closer look?" Blaise asked. They all walked forward. Hermione thought Professor Marchbanks must be the tiny, stooped witch with a face so lined it looked as though it had been draped in cobwebs; Umbridge was speaking to her deferentially. Professor Marchbanks seemed to be a little deaf; she was answering Professor Umbridge very loudly considering they were only a foot apart.

'Journey was fine, journey was fine, we've made it plenty of times before!' she said impatiently. 'Now, I haven't heard from Dumbledore lately!' she added, peering around the Hall as though hopeful he might suddenly emerge from a broom cupboard. 'No idea where he is, I suppose?'

'None at all,' said Umbridge, shooting a malevolent look at Hermione and her friends, who were now dawdling around the foot of the stairs as Draco pretended to do up his shoelace. 'But I daresay the Ministry of Magic will track him down soon enough.'

Hermione gave a snort that everyone could hear before straightening up and putting her most innocent face on. Umbridge glared at her with unbridled fury. She have a coy smile before sauntering off. It was an uncomfortable sort of an evening. Everyone was trying to do some last-minute revising but nobody seemed to be getting very far. Eventually Hermione handed Sleeping Potions out to all the OWL and NEWT students so they could get a good night's sleep.

None of the fifth-years talked very much at breakfast next day, either: Pansy was practising incantations under her breath while the salt cellar in front of her twitched; Hermione was rereading Achievements in Charming so fast that her eyes appeared blurred; Draco was muttering charms to a box under the table.

Once breakfast was over, the fifth- and seventh-years milled around in the Entrance Hall while the other students went off to lessons; then, at half past nine, they were called forwards class by class to re-enter the Great Hall, which had been rearranged completely; the four house tables had been removed and replaced instead with many tables for one, all facing the staff-table end of the Hall where Professor McGonagall stood facing them. When they were all seated and quiet, she said, 'You may begin,' and turned over an enormous hour-glass on the desk beside her, on which there were also spare quills, ink bottles and rolls of parchment.

Hermione turned over her paper and looked at the first question.

a) Give the incantation

b) describe the wand movement required to make objects fly.

She smirked as she remembered a prank she played on Umbridge which involved dumping the fireworks in her bag during one of her speeches using the levitation charm. It was wonderful. Though she had used all her fireworks Umbridge was scared out of the hall by a fire dragon of fireworks and all her Ministry Decrees fell of the walls. She bent down and scribbled the answer.

'Well, it wasn't too bad, was it?' asked Hermione anxiously in the Entrance Hall two hours later, still clutching the exam paper. 'I'm not sure I did myself justice on Cheering Charms, I just ran out of time. Did you put in the counter-charm for hiccoughs? I wasn't sure whether I ought to, it felt like too much-and on question twenty-three-'

'Hermione,' said Daphne sternly, 'we've been through this before ... we're not going through every exam afterwards, it's bad enough doing them once.'

Hermione gave a small sigh before resting her head on Draco's shoulder as they walked to lunch. She had to calm down. The fifth-years ate lunch with the rest of the school (the four house tables had reappeared for the lunch hour), then they trooped off into the small chamber beside the Great Hall, where they were to wait until called for their practical examination. As small groups of students were called forwards in alphabetical order, those left behind muttered incantations and practised wand movements, occasionally poking each other in the back or eye by mistake.

Hermione's name was called. Trembling, she left the chamber with Anthony Goldstein, Gregory Goyle and Daphne Greengrass. Students who had already been tested did not return afterwards, so Hermione didn't know what it would be like.

'Professor Marchbanks is free, Granger,' squeaked Professor Flitwick, who was standing just inside the door. He pointed Hermione towards the oldest female examiner who was smiling as Hermione approached.

"Miss Granger is it? The youngest student to pass her Potions NEWTS in a century?" she asked.

Hermione blushed. "Yes Ma'am."

"Excellent." the old woman gave her an appraising look. "Now I need you to take this egg cup and make it do cartwheels for me."

Overall Hermione thought she did well. Her cup did lots of cartwheels before spinning around and landing right side up on the table. Her color changing charm also went well and her mouse turned a nice shade of green with silver stripes.

"You do well?" Draco asked her at dinner that night.

"I think so."she said.

"Of course you did." Pansy scoffed. "You're the smartest person here!"

Hermione gave her a smile. There was no time to relax that night; they went straight to the common room after dinner and submerged themselves in revision for Transfiguration next day; Hermione again brewed Sleeping Potions for all the students.

Her written paper the next morning went well, though she nearly forgot one of the transfigurations; she got it at the last minute. At least she managed to vanish her hamster whole whereas poor Hannah Abbott lost her head completely at the next table and somehow managed to multiply her ferret into a flock of flamingos, causing the examination to be halted for ten minute; while the birds were captured and carried out of the Hall. Hermione had laughed for nearly ten minutes about it.

They had their Herbology exam on Wednesday (other than a small bite from a Fanged Geranium, Hermione felt she had done reasonably well); and then, on Thursday, Defence Against the Dark Arts. Here Hermione knew that every Slytherin had passed easily. She had no problem with any of the written questions and took particular pleasure, during the practical examination, in performing all the counter-jinxes and defensive spells right in front of Umbridge, who was watching coolly from near the doors into the Entrance Hall.

'Oh, bravo!' cried Professor Marchbanks, who was examining Hermione again as Hermione easily banished her boggart. "I believe that is all, unless…"

She leaned forwards a little.

'I heard, from my dear friend in the Ministry that you can produce a Patronus? For a bonus point ... ?'

Hermione grinned and raised her wand, imagining her moment with Draco when they won the Quidditch Cup.

'Expecto patronum!'

Her silver phoenix erupted from the end of her wand and flew around the hall. All the examiners stopped to watch, and they all gave applause as Potter's stag erupted from his wand a few moments later. They both vanished.

'Excellent!' she said. 'Very well, Granger, you may go!'

Friday was the Ancient Runes Exam. Hermione thought she did well, though she mixed up two of her runes in the written. In the practical she aced it, and created a giant explosion when asked to write a rune of destruction. None of Hermione's friends had to take it except for Zachary, and he also did well.

Monday Hermione had off since she already took her Potions OWL. Tuesday was Care of Magical Creatures, and Hermione was glad that they had Grubbly Plank at the beginning of the year-she taught them everything they need to know.

The practical examination took place in the afternoon on the lawn on the edge of the Forbidden Forest, where students were required to correctly identify the Knarl hidden among a dozen hedgehogs (the trick was to offer them all milk in turn: Knarls, highly suspicious creatures whose quills had many magical properties, generally went berserk at what they saw as an attempt to poison them); then demonstrate correct handling of a Bowtruckle; feed and clean out a Fire Crab without sustaining serious burns; and choose, from a wide selection of food, the diet they would give a sick unicorn.

Hermione's examiner, an old man called Professor Tofty gave her the go-to and she left with Daphne who was also done. The Astronomy theory paper on Wednesday morning went well enough. Hermione was pretty sure she got all of Jupiter's moons, and had the afternoon off while her friends took Divination. She played Chess with Millicent Bulstrode during that time.

When they reached the top of the Astronomy Tower at eleven o'clock, they found a perfect night for stargazing, cloudless and still. The grounds were bathed in silvery moonlight and there was a slight chill in the air. Each of them set up his or her telescope and, when Professor Marchbanks gave the word, proceeded to fill in the blank star-chart they had been given.

Professors Marchbanks and Tofty strolled among them, watching as they entered the precise positions of the stars and planets they were observing. All was quiet except for the rustle of parchment, the occasional creak of a telescope as it was adjusted on its stand, and the scribbling of many quills. Half an hour passed, then ar hour; the little squares of reflected gold light flickering on the: ground below started to vanish as lights in the castle windows were extinguished.

As Hermione charted the star Sirius on her map, however, the front doors of the castle opened directly below the parapet where she as standing, so that light spilled down the stone steps a little way across the lawn. As Hermione glanced down to chart Uranus onto her map she saw saw five or six elongated shadows moving over the brightly lit grass before the doors swung shut and the lawn became a sea of darkness once more.

Hermione looked down at the group moving across the lawn. They would have been unnoticeable except for the moonlight spilling across their heads. Hermione went back to her exam and adjusted her telescope, finding the sun and plotting it. She was about to go and find the star Polaris when she heard a distant knock which echoed through the deserted grounds, followed immediately by the muffled barking of a large dog.

Her head snapped up, as did Draco and Pansy's next to her; her head moved towards Hagrid's cabin. There were lights on in Hagrid's windows and the people she had observed crossing the lawn were now silhouetted against them. The door opened and she distinctly saw six sharply defined figures walk over the threshold. The door closed again and there was silence.

Professor Marchbanks passed at that very moment and she snapped her head back down, quickly adjusting the telescope to look for Polaris. Suddenly she heard a roar, and she pulled her head back up. What the hell was going on?

Professor Tofty gave another dry little cough.

'Try and concentrate, now, boys and girls,' he said softly.

Most people returned to their telescopes. Hermione rolled her eyes, marked Polaris and moved onto the last star of the evening- Arcturus.

There was a loud BANG from the grounds. Several people cried 'Ouch!' when they poked themselves in the face with the ends of their telescopes as they hastened to see what was going on below.

Hagrid's door had burst open and by the light flooding out of the cabin they saw him quite clearly, a massive figure roaring and brandishing his fists, surrounded by six people, all of whom, judging by the tiny threads of red light they were casting in his direction, seemed to be attempting to Stun him.

"NO!" Lily Moon cried.

'My dear!' said Professor Tofty in a scandalised voice. 'This is an examination!'

But nobody was paying the slightest attention to their star-charts any more. Jets of red light were still flying about beside Hagrid's cabin, yet somehow they seemed to be bouncing off him; he was still upright and still fighting.

Cries and yells echoed across the grounds; a man yelled, 'Be reasonable, Hagrid!'

Hagrid roared, 'Reasonable be damned, yeh won' take me like this, Dawlish!'

Hermione could see the tiny outline of Fang, Hagrid's dog, attempting to defend Hagrid, leaping repeatedly at the wizards surrounding him until a Stunning Spell caught him and he fell to the ground. Hagrid gave a howl of fury, lifted the culprit bodily from the ground and threw him; the man flew what looked like ten feet and did not get up again. Hermione gasped, both hands over her mouth; next to her Draco paled.

Hermione's sense of justice flew to attention. As far as she could see they were trying to take him for no reason. She may have disliked the oaf, but she also had a sense of fairness, and this was UNFAIR.

'Look!' squealed Parvati Patil, who was leaning over the parapet and pointing to the foot of the castle where the front doors had opened again; more light was spilling out on to the dark lawn and a single long black shadow was now rippling across the lawn.

'Now, really!' said Professor Tofty anxiously. 'Only sixteen minutes left, you know!'

But nobody paid him the slightest attention: they were watching the person now sprinting towards the battle beside Hagrid's cabin.

'How dare you!' the figure shouted as she ran. 'How dare you!'

'It's McGonagall!' whispered Hermione.

'Leave him alone! Alone, I say!' said Professor McGonagall's voice through the darkness. 'On what grounds are you attacking him? He has done nothing, nothing to warrant such-'

Hermione, Pansy, Parvati, and Daphne all screamed. The figures around the cabin had shot no fewer than four Stunners at Professor McGonagall. Halfway between cabin and castle the red beams collided with her; for a moment she looked luminous and glowed an eerie red, then she lifted right off her feet, landed hard on her back, and moved no more.

'Galloping gargoyles!' shouted Professor Tofty, who also seemed to have forgotten the exam completely. 'Not so much as a warning! Outrageous behaviour!'

Hermione agreed with him. The woman was biased towards Gryffindor, but Hermione could see that she didn't mean too; Gryffindor was just her house like Slytherin was Snape's. The fact that she had been hit by four stunners meant she would be in St. Mungos for a week at least.

"Barbaric!" Pansy shrieked, and many of the students nodded.

'COWARDS!' bellowed Hagrid; his voice carried clearly to the top of the tower, and several lights flickered back on inside the castle. 'RUDDY COWARDS! HAVE SOME O' THAT- AN' THAT-'

'Oh my-' gasped Hermione.

Hagrid took two massive swipes at his closest attackers; judging by their immediate collapse, they had been knocked cold. Hermione saw Hagrid double over, and thought he had finally been overcome by a spell. But, on the contrary, next moment Hagrid was standing again with Fang's body on his back.

'Get him, get him!' screamed Umbridge, but her remaining helper seemed highly reluctant to go within reach of Hagrid's fists; indeed, he was backing away so fast he tripped over one of his unconscious colleagues and fell over. Hagrid had turned and begun to run with Fang still hung around his neck. Umbridge sent one last Stunning Spell after him but it missed; and Hagrid, running full-pelt towards the distant gates, disappeared into the darkness.

There was a long minute's quivering silence as everybody gazed open-mouthed into the grounds. Then Professor Tofty's voice said feebly, 'Um ... five minutes to go, everybody.'

Hermione quickly scrabbled Arcturus onto her chart and waited for the exam to be over. As soon as it was over they all left. Hermione signalled her friends quietly, and the moment they were in the Common Room they called a meeting. Once they told the story they were in shock.

"It's horrible." said Luna quietly. "Umbridge has only tightened her knots further."

"She must be stopped." Tracy Davis spoke, the first words they heard from her all evening. Zacharias Smith tightened his grip on her hand. Tracy was particularly disturbed because Astronomy was her specialty and she had barely finished her exam.

"We are Slytherins." said Will as he stood up. "We may be looking into joining the Dark Lord, but most of us want fair treatment. The moment Umbridge gives us a chance we stop her."

"I already made messengers." said Astoria. "The entire Illusion Class did. Just say this spell," she gestured to the parchment Quincy Nott was handing out, "And all of Slytherin will be alerted."

"Even if we have to work with Gryffindors." said Theo grimly. It was a mark of how bad things were that they were willing to work with lions.

"Ready?" Hermione asked determinedly.

"SLYTHERIN!" they all chanted, before adjourning the meeting and departing to their rooms. Hermione knew that the time of play was over. It was time for war.

Chapter Text

History of Magic Exam passed quickly for Hermione, too caught up was she in brewing war potions. She had gone into some dark potion books and found potions that caused pain on level with the Cruciatus when sprayed on somebody. Potter collapsed in the exam, but she didn't care.

With more and more students being put under the Blood Quill Hermione had gone to Madame Pomfrey, who was neutral in the war, with many healing potions; hers were being used faster than they could be replenished.

She was also spending time playing pranks on Umbridge. With Vincent's help she set off a load of Garroting Gas in her office.

That evening while reviewing, Hermione felt the tug on her sensing; the illusion detectors had been set off. With a look at Daphne and her friends they set off to where the illusion snake was leading them: To Umbridge's office. Quickly she ran after it until she reached the office. Opening it without a moment's delay she saw Milli, Draco, Pansy, Zachary, Crabbe, and Goyle holding Potter, Weasley, Weaselette, Neville Longbottom, Seamus Finnigan, and Lily Moon in place.

Umbridge spun around to look at her but Hermione already had her torture potion ready. She splashed it on the woman and immediately Umbridge buckled to her knees, screaming in pain. Hermione knew she shouldn't but she felt a savage pleasure at seeing this horrible woman in pain.

"Silencing Charm." said Draco sharply, and Pansy snapped one up. The Gryffindors just stared.

"Release them." Hermione commanded, "And ward the room."

"Why are you letting us go?" Potter asked suspiciously.

"Because frankly, Slytherin as a whole hates her more than we hate you guys." Daphne said.

"You guys help her." Weasley said.

"Then you're clearly to blind to see what the rest of us can't." said Zachary in clipped tones. "We do nothing for her, only make her think we do."

"Don't talk to us traitor." Finnigan snapped. Zachary snarled and launched himself at the boy before Theo managed to pull him back.

Hermione looked around at Umbridge. She was starting to recover, and Hermione saw that she still had her wand.

"Expelliarmus!" Hermione said sharply, disarming the woman. "Wingardium Leviosa!" she levitated the angry woman into a chair. "Incarcerous!" she bound her.

"So now what do we do?" Blaise wondered, looking at the Pink Toad.

"I want to torture her some more!" said Hermione cheerfully before splashing another vial of torture potion on her. She screamed again.

"What are you doing?" Lily Moon asked, clearly in distress.

"Torturing her." Greg replied with a grin.

"But that's evil!" Moon said again.

"And?" Draco asked. They stared at him in horror.

"She hurt you anyway." said Daphne. "Used a blood quill on you and restricted your movement. Gave you permanent scars." on that her hand snapped out to grap Potter's and display a scar on his hand spelling I must not tell lies.

"Again, what do we do now?" Zach wondered.

"We could banish her." Hermione mused.

"The Forbidden Forest." Luna said serenely as she walked in from the shadows. Everyone in the room jumped.

"Bloody hell!" Vince snapped.

"How'd you get through the wards?" Pansy asked.

"The Snidgets made a door for me." she said calmly.

"That isn't a thing!" Ginny Weasley snapped, clearly angry at how nonsensical Luna was.

"Don't talk to her that way." Blaise snarled, clearly angry.

"It's alright." Luna said calmly. "Her head's infested with Wrackspurts."

Weaselette clearly wanted to say something else but Blaise's anger had scared her.

"What were you saying about the Forbidden Forest?" Milli asked.

"Banish her into the Forbidden Forest." Luna replied. "She clearly hates half-breeds so being in a forest full of them would be like a death sentence."

Hermione's face slowly spread into a grin. "Prefect."

"Who's gonna do the banishing?" Blaise wondered. None of them had enough power.

"Adelaide should be able to do it." Hermione said. "She recently went through her awakening and has full magic."

"I'll go get her." Luna said, crafting another illusion before sending it off. In ten minutes Adelaide was there.

"A banishing?" she asked. Draco confirmed it. With a large smirk she opened Umbitch's window. Hermione splashed one last vial of torture potion on her and she screamed in pain and fear as she was banished out the window into the forest.

"Now what do we do about them?" Milli mused.

"Leave them." Adelaide said dismissively.

"But they could testify against us." Theo pointed out.

"But they hate the Pink Toad just as much as us. But in cas . . ." Adelaide started, before casting a silent spell. "Now if they try to tell they'll die." she said. Her tone was self satisfactory and her smile wide. The Gryffindors hurried out in terror.

"Scaredy Cats." Daphne said. They all grinned.

Miles away and hours later in the Department of Mysteries…

"We're trapped." said Lucius, his face pale. He couldn't be caught. Draco depended on him.

"You forgot the potion." Bella grinned maniacally, splashing the Ward Potion on the anti-apparition and portkey wards. With a silent thanks to Hermione Lucius stepped out and apparated away.

The Minister cowered against Albus Dumbledore. "He can't be back!"

"He's back and you saw it." Albus said deeply. "Young Harry just fought against them, but I have no idea how they escaped."

"Sir!" an Auror said, hurrying over. "We found traces of a potion near the ward area where the Death Eaters escaped!"

"Analyze it." Amelia Bones commanded. "I don't recognize it, so it's new. We must find the creator."

HE WHO MUST NOT BE NAMED RETURNS

'In a brief statement on Friday night, Minister for Magic Cornelius Fudge confirmed that He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named has returned to this country and is once more active.

'"It is with great regret that I must confirm that the wizard styling himself Lord-well, you know who I mean-is alive and among us again," said Fudge, looking tired and flustered as he addressed reporters. "It is with almost equal regret that we report the mass revolt of the dementors of Azkaban, who have shown themselves averse to continuing in the Ministry's employ. We believe the dementors are currently taking direction from Lord- Thingy.

'"We urge the magician population to remain vigilant. The Ministry is currently publishing guides to elementary home and personal defence which will be delivered free to all wizarding homes within the coming month."

'The Minister's statement was met with dismay and alarm from the wizarding community, which as recently as last Wednesday was receiving Ministry assurances that there was "no truth whatsoever in these persistent rumours that You-Know-Who is operating amongst us once more."

'Details of the events that led to the Ministry turnaround are still hazy, though it is believed that He Who Must Not Be Named and a select band of followers (known as Death Eaters) gained entry to the Ministry of Magic itself on Thursday evening.

'Albus Dumbledore, newly reinstated Headmaster of Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, reinstated member of the International Confederation of Wizards and reinstated Chief Warlock of the Wizengamot, has so far been unavailable for comment. He has insisted over the past year that You-Know-Who is not dead, as was widely hoped and believed, but is recruiting followers once more for afresh attempt to seize power. Meanwhile, the "Boy Who Lived"-'

"There." Daphne pointed. "I knew they'd bring him into it somehow."

"I'm just glad father and Aunt Bella weren't caught." Draco sighed in relief.

"Umbridge was caught." Pansy said with a disgusted expression on her face. "The centaurs were going to kill her but Dumbledore stopped them."

"Damn." Hermione sighed. "We need to make sure she can't testify against us."

"I heard that Gemma is excellent at Memory Charms." Blaise said with a sly expression on his face.

"And I know that Madame Pomfrey would love to to come talk to me in her office." Theo said slyly. They grinned. An hour later and Umbitch had no memories of the previous day.

"That wasn't too hard." Hermione commented.

"You'll jinx it!" Pansy said with wide eyes.

"Nah." Daphne shook her head.

Hermione decided to go out on a walk with Draco and enjoy the sunshine. The castle seemed very quiet even for a Sunday. Everybody was clearly out in the sunny grounds, enjoying the end of their exams and the prospect of a last few days of term unhampered by revision or homework. Vince and Greg followed slowly.

"I don't know how they escaped but they'll get theirs." Potter snapped at them as he appeared from the shadows.

"Whatever are you talking about?" Hermione asked sweetly, though she knew exactly what he was talking about.

He snarled and got ready to pull out his wand but Professor Snape glided in.

'What are you doing, Potter?' said Snape, as coldly as ever, as he strode over to the four of them.

'I'm trying to decide what curse to use on Malfoy, sir,' said Potter fiercely. Hermione glared at him.

Snape stared at him.

'Put that wand away at once,' he said curtly. 'Ten points from Gryff-'

Snape looked towards the giant hour-glasses on the walls and gave a sneering smile.

'Ah. I see there are no longer any points left in the Gryffindor hour-glass to take away. In that case, Potter, we will simply have to-'

'Add some more?'

Professor McGonagall had just stumped up the stone, steps into the castle; she was carrying a tartan carpetbag in one hand and leaning heavily on a walking stick with her other, but otherwise looked quite well.

"I'm glad you're well Professor." Hermione said. The woman gave her a small nod and smile.

'Professor McGonagall!' said Snape, striding forwards. 'Out of St. Mungo's, I see!'

'Yes, Professor Snape,' said Professor McGonagall. shrugging off her travelling cloak, 'I'm quite as good as new. You two-Crabbe-Goyle-'

She beckoned them forwards imperiously and they came,.

'Here,' said Professor McGonagall, thrusting her carpetbag into Crabbe's chest and her cloak into Goyle's, 'take these up to my office for me.'

Hermione glared, her good mood evaporating. When would people realize that those two weren't idiots to be pushed around? Both were actually pretty smart.

They turned and stumped away up the marble staircase.

'Right then,' said Professor McGonagall, looking up at the hourglasses on the wall. 'Well, I think Potter and his friends ought to have fifty points apiece for alerting the world to the return of You-Know-Who! What say you, Professor Snape?'

'What?' snapped Snape, and Hermione knew that he didn't like it. 'Oh-well-I suppose ...'

'So that's fifty each for Potter, the two Weasleys, Longbottom, Finnigan and Miss Moon,' said Professor McGonagall, and a shower of rubies fell down into the bottom bulb of Gryffindor s hour-glass as she spoke. 'Now, you wanted to take ten from Mr. Potter, I think, Professor Snape-so there we are ...'

A few rubies retreated into the upper bulb, leaving a respectable amount below nevertheless.

'Well, Potter, Malfoy, I think you ought to be outside on a glorious day like this,' Professor McGonagall continued briskly. Hermione gaped. The woman just put Gryffindor in the lead!

"75 points from Gryffindor for leaving the school without permission and an additional 15 for endangering the school's thestral tribe." Professor Snape muttered. Hermione gave him a large grin before taking Draco's hand and walking outside.

They walked in the sunshine, eventually stopping on the edge of the Forest to dip their feet into the Black Lake and make small talk, content to be with one another. Hermione was happy to rest her head on his shoulder as they looked at the sunset.

Professor Umbridge left Hogwarts the day before the end of term. It seemed she had crept out of the hospital wing during dinnertime, evidently hoping to depart undetected, but unfortunately for her, she met Peeves on the way, who seized his last chance to do as Fred had instructed, and chased her gleefully from the premises whacking her alternately with a walking stick and a sock full of chalk. Many students ran out into the Entrance Hall to watch her running away down the path and the Heads of Houses tried only half-heartedly to restrain them. Indeed, Professor McGonagall sank back into her chair at the staff table after a few feeble remonstrances and was clearly heard to express a regret that she could not run cheering after Umbridge herself, because Peeves had borrowed her walking stick.

Hermione had laughed as she went with the students and hexed the woman as she left. The end of the year feast was wonderful and Hermione was content to laugh and joke with her friends.

The journey home on the Hogwarts Express next day was eventful in several ways. The Slytherin's Magic group and the Dumbledore's Army group got into a duel which left Dumbledore's army hexed beyond recognition. Hermione had taken particular pleasure in hexing Potter with a grey curse that left his nose bleeding. They left the students lying on the floor and left. Soon they were at King's Cross Station, and Hermione left the train with Draco and her friends. They were greeted by the Malfoys, but they looked unusually somber.

"Theodore?" Narcissa called.

"Yes?" he asked politely.

"You must come with us. Something has come up at home." she bit her lip delicately. They portkeyed home.

"What's happened?" Theo asked.

"Theodore, your father was captured in the Department of Mysteries. The Aurors captured him before he could portkey out."

Theo stared. "My father's captured?" he croaked.

"One of the Aurors whose relative he killed during the war years ago decided to take revenge and forgot to close the door on Azkaban. He was kissed."

Theo's eyes filled with tears before he ran out. Hermione gave a small sob and buried her head in Draco's shoulder. It was so unfair! How could they do that to him? Draco rubbed her back in small circles as she took deep breaths.

That evening Hermione decided to go and find Theo. After nearly half an hour she found him in the flower garden sitting on a bench. She said nothing and sat next to him. After a while he spoke, and gave her a small Dahlia.

"Father loved Dahlias." he said softly. "They reminded him of mother because they were her favorite flower before she died."

"I like dahlias too." Hermione whispered.

"Why?" Theo asked in an anguished voice, crushing the dahlia in his hand. "Why did he have to die?"

"Because the world's unfair." Hermione replied. "And sometimes things happen. We have to grieve and move on."

"I hate them." his voice was hollow.

"I do too." Hermione said. They sat there for a while, brother and sister in all but blood. Hermione's eyes sparkling with unshed tears, and Theo's face pale and gaunt. They sat, staring at the sunset in the flower garden until Draco came to get them.

Theo took the dreamless sleep Hermione gave him with a wane smile before laying back. He needed it. He would need it. Without it his mind was plagued with memories of his father.

Of learning how to play the piano, and gurgling in childish joy at his first recital.

Of watching his mother pass away from dragon pox and his father comforting him in bed as Theo slept clutching his mother's favorite pillow- one embroidered with Dahlias.

Of his father booming and bursting into laughter as Theo ran around the house in just his underwear.

Of learning how to read and write in the library.

Of visiting his grandparents in Azkaban before they died.

Of - Theo burst into racking sobs as he clutched a worn out dahlia pillow and his cried mourning tears for everything he had lost.

"Ssshh." Mrs Malfoy said softly as she came into his room. She was wearing a simple lilac nightgown. "It's alright. You'll be alright."

She enveloped him in a soft hug and his sobbed into her nightgown, feeling so much pain, so much hate. How could they do this to him? Why?

"I hate them." he said hoarsely.

"I hate them too. They were my friends." she replied.

As Theo drifted off, he had only one thought on his mind: revenge.

Chapter Text

When Hermione came down to breakfast the next day the Azkaban escapees were with them. Hermione sat between Draco and Theo. The Dark Lord sat at the head of the table, Lucius and Narcissa next to him. On his other side sat Bellatrix Lestrange.

She was a woman who could have been beautiful once, but only retained a ghost of her formal beauty. Her hair was wild and curly, her eyes heavily lidded. Next to her sat her husband Rodolphus Lestrange and his brother Rabastan Lestrange. Both were identical with large builds shadowed down by Azkaban. The others Hermione didn't recognize.

"Hello children." Tom said.

Hermione smiled, before taking Draco's hand and taking a bite of her own food.

"So my ickle nephew is with a girl!" Bellatrix said in a slightly high voice. "Who are you?"

"Hermione Granger." she replied. The woman looked at her for a moment before screeching.

"A mudblood!"

"Don't call me that again." Hermione snarled, a complete change from a minute ago. Now she was holding a butter knife and pointing at her. She hated being called that.

"Oooh, little girl has claws!" Bellatrix giggled maniacally. "Come on mudblood. By the time I'm done with you you'll be better than me." she grabbed Hermione's hand and pulled her out of the room, much to Hermione's confusion.

And so Hermione's training started with the most dangerous woman in Britain: Bellatrix Lestrange. Everyday after breakfast Hermione would go train. Training wasn't easy either. Bella, as she was called, didn't hold back during duels. Hermione was forbidden from using her potions, and every day she went to her shower bruised and tired, but satisfied. She was advancing beyond leaps and bounds, learning the darkest of dark curses and dozens of ways to use grey curses to kill.

After a while Theo's father's funeral came up. Hermione wore a black dress with a sheer neckline that went until her cleavage. It was a dress that ended at her knees. Along with a black cloak she looked amazing, but she felt horrible. Daphne, whose dress matched hers exactly held Theo's hand the entire time.

Soon he was buried next to his wife and it was time for speeches. Hermione was crying through a lot of it, and even Draco shed a tear.

"He was amazing." Theo said softly to everyone. They could hear the emotion in his voice. "He was so kind and strong. He taught me everything I know after my mother died but never forgot her. He was the best father anyone could hope for. Now he's with my mother and I know they've both been returned to magic."

"Fight me!" Hermione shrieked, trying to forget the funeral. Bella sent a spell at her and their dangerous dance started. Hermione was barely paying attention, just sending off spell after spell. Her mind was whirling with emotion.

Hate . . . anger. . . love. .. . She remembered Theo's father. He was a kind man. Funny. He taught Hermione the basics of runes in her summer before third year. He donated book after book to the SM.

Dodging a bone breaker Hermione sent of fiendfyre, which she just mastered. She barely noticed. Dodge, curse, jinx, dodge, hex.

Hermione was suddenly restrained by two pairs of strong hands taking her wand. She whirled around, her eyes alight with anger, but it was Draco. He turned her around, and Hermione noticed for the first time what she had done.

Bella was tied up and restrained with magic restraining shields around her. With softer eyes Hermione removed her curses and helped Bella up, healing a bruise.

"Are you alright?" Hermione asked. "I'm so sorry! I was just so angry after the funeral and -" she was cut off.

"That's what I want to see!" Bella cackled. "Excellent! I'll give you tomorrow off, but after that we continue training."

"Bloody hell Hermione." Marcus Flint said in awe. Everyone from the funeral was at the manor. Hermione gave a small smile.

"I've been training for weeks." she said.

"Well you're bloody amazing." Daphne grinned. "You'll have to show the SM how to do that."

"We're continuing it?" Hermione asked.

"With the war going on we need training more than ever." Blaise said seriously.

"Train me." Theo said determinedly, pushing forward.

"What?' Hermione asked.

"Bellatrix will only work with you, but I want you to work with me. I need to get better. I have to get them." he said, a pleading expression on his face.

"Fine." Hermione said.

And so she started training Theo. He was a determined student. He barely spoke nowadays and spent all of his spare time in the training room sending spell after spell at training dummies. Hermione didn't think it was healthy. He was paler and more gaunt than before. He refused to cut his hair and it went till his shoulders now.

"This isn't healthy." Hermione confided in Mrs Malfoy one day, before her Potions conference. "I'm worried for him."

"I'll talk to him." she said gently. "Now go to your potions conference."

Wearing the same clothes as last time Hermione portkeyed there with Professor Snape. She looked nearly the same as last time, but her eyes told a different story. She wasn't innocent anymore. Soon it was her turn, and she entered the room. The same board greeted her.

"Which potion this time Miss Granger?" a man asked.

"I call it the Warding Potion." Hermione said. "It will effectively create an undetectable hole in the wards of any house and allow people to pass through unnoticed."

Her description raised some eyebrows.

"Would this not violate people's privacy?" a woman asked.

"Yes it would, which is why I want it kept private." she said.

"Can you give a demonstration?" a man asked.

"Can you set up some wards?" she replied. The man set up wards, and Hermione pulled a vial out. She splashed it on the shield before stepping through. He stared at her.

"Undetectable!" was his only saying.

"Ingredients?" a woman asked.

Hermione listed the ingredients. After a small debate they looked at her.

"We patent this potion the Warding Potion, creator Hermione Granger." said a guy. Hermione grinned. She did it!

"I did it!" Hermione squealed as she got back home. Draco grinned and kissed her, and best of all, Theo grinned. He grinned. The first grin she had seen from him since his father's death. To Hermione, that was the best prize of all. But it was not to last.

The next day Aurors came knocking at their doors. All the escapees fled to Greengrass Manor through the floo.

"Yes?" Lucius asked them.

"We're looking for a Hermione Granger." said an auror. He was a dark skinned man with a deep voice.

"I'm here." Hermione said, stepping forward.

"We're taking you in for questioning." he said.

Hermione glared. "On what authority? Why? Do you have an arrest warrant?" she fired off. Draco came up to hold her hand and glare at them.

"You're wanted for questioning about a potion you created that's private." the man said.

"Who are you?" Hermione asked.

"Kingsley Shacklebolt."

"Well I'm not answering anything unless you get a proper warrant." she snapped.

"Very well. We'll be back." he threatened before leaving.

The moment they left Hermione collapsed. "What am I going to do?"

"It's my fault." Lucius said. "We used your Ward Potion to escape the ministry, and they must have found traces."

"They're going to question me." Hermione said grimly.

"They'll use Veritaserum." Lucius replied grimly.

"That's illegal on minors." Draco argued.

"She's a Slytherin, and a muggleborn. They won't care." he replied.

"Is it possible to resist it?" Hermione begged Professor Snape, who had been watching.

"It is possible," he started slowly, "but you would need excellent Occlumency. What Veritaserum does is it detaches your mind from your mindscape so that any questions asked are answered. It's like floating in space. What you need to do is ground yourself. It is akin to resisting the Imperius, but harder."

"Train me." Hermione said, a determined look on her face.

And so she started training. Snape would give her Veritaserum, and she would do her best to resist. He would ask potentially embarrassing questions so she had greater incentive. After four days the Aurors came back.

"We have a warrant for the questioning of Hermione Granger." Shacklebolt said again. Hermione glared at them, but knew she had no choice. Giving Draco a kiss, she went with them. They Apparated away with her to the Ministry once they were outside the wards, and she found herself in a questioning room.

"Give the Veritaserum." Shacklebolt commanded. Hermione took it willingly.

It was a weird sensation. She felt as though she was floating. She vaguely heard her voice say something, but she felt like it wasn't her mouth. Hermione zoomed down and did her best to ground herself. She noticed that they gave her more Veritaserum than required. Bastards!

Finally, she managed to ground herself. She heard a question.

"Are you the creator of the Ward Potion?" a man asked.

"Yes." she didn't resist this question.

"Did you give it to a Death Eater?" she was asked. Hermione smirked. She gave it to the Dark Lord, not a Death Eater.

"No." she replied, her voice still spacey.

"Did you give it to someone else to give to a Death Eater?"

Damn. The Dark Lord gave it to a Death Eater.

"No." she managed, though not without a struggle. It felt as though she was helium. She stopped, letting herself float a little before grounding. Gods, this was taxing her.

"Are you helping the Dark Lord in anyway?"

"No." Hermione managed, though her struggle was harder. Damn this was hard.

"Have you used Dark Magic in any way?"

Hermione glared inside. This wasn't part of the questioning!

"No." she managed to say, though it was considerably weaker.

"Give the antidote." said Shacklebolt disappointedly. Hermione restrained her smirk. She did it! Barely!

"So," she spat, "Now that you're done questioning a minor can I go?"

"Go.'' Shacklebolt glared. She glared back.

"You're a bunch of hypocrites." she spat, before apparating with the man away.

"Hermione!" Draco called the moment she came back. He enveloped her in a hug which she returned, before kissing him soundly.

"What happened?" The Dark Lord asked.

"They questioned me." she spat. "Just wanting to know if I was a Death Eater or allied with you. They chose me because there were traces of my potion near the wards, but as far as they're concerned I'm innocent. Probably they think someone stole it from me, so they might be back for you guys thinking that you stole it from me. "

"You resisted?" Theo asked.

"Barely." she grimaced. "They gave me more than the usual amount. I barely stayed grounded, and right now I'm exhausted."

"Well done." Professor Snape praised. She beamed.

"Who questioned you?" Theo asked.

"Shacklebolt." Hermione scowled.

"He's part of the order. Probably questioned you on Dumbledore's orders." Snape said.

"How do you know?" Hermione asked, curious.

"I am a spy in the Order of the Phoenix for the Dark Side." he said. Hermione stared. That was new! There were so many things she didn't know about her teacher.

"Well Shacklebolt's a bastard." she said once she regained her composure. "He went beyond the questioning."

"Probably Dumbledore's orders." Narcissa said.

"Well I did it." she grinned.

A few day later the election for a new minister took place. Rufus Scrimgeour won. He was an auror; There were streaks of grey in his mane of tawny hair and his bushy eyebrows, he had keen yellowish eyes behind a pair of wire-rimmed spectacles and a certain rangy, loping grace even though he walked with a slight limp. There was an immediate impression of shrewdness and toughness; Hermione knew that he was fully light, and could never be turned.

The reign of darkness continued. Theo and Hermione continued to train harder than ever before and soon Draco joined them. They had plotted out a whole curriculum for next year's SM and were giving it to Abraham Montague, the senior prefect in Slytherin since he was forced to redo a year after spending 4 months in the Vanishing Cabinet.

Death Eaters had collapsed a bridge in Muggle London adding to the terror a week ago. They randomly raided Knockturn Alley to gain allies and kill people. Hermione had seen her first death when Bella had decided to show her how to torture people.

"Come here!" she had giggled, and Hermione had descended to the dungeons with her where she saw Kingsley Shacklebolt chained to a wall. She felt a surge of hate for the man who had questioned her.

"Now, let's practice the Cruciatus. You must feel hatred for him and push that hatred into your wand. The movement is a swish and circle. Now, let me show you. Crucio!" she trilled.

Shacklebolt let out a grunt of pain but remained silent mostly. Hermione saw sweat on his face. He looked as though he was in pain, and the handcuffs on him wasn't helping either.

"Now you try!" Bella instructed.

Hermione felt all her hate for the man for questioning her and for being such a blind fool. She felt a rush of hatred. "Crucio!"

He let out some more grunts of pain, and Hermione held it there. After a minute she stopped with a pant. That spell was hard.

"Good job!" Bellatrix said. "Again!"

Hermione said the Cruciatus again, and this time Bella joined her. This time he let out a roar of pain. Hermione giggled. She hated him, and honestly had no qualms about what she was doing. Once he was screaming in pain and shuddering even when no curse was on him, Bella decided it was time to kill him.

"Avada Kedavra!" Bellatrix intoned, and he slumped down dead. Hermione thought she would feel something, but she felt no pain.

"Did that make you feel better?" Bellatrix asked. Hermione looked at her, and did her best to answer honestly.

"No. I didn't like him anyway."

They had recruited giants and werewolves to the cause too, adding to their allies. Amelia Bones was killed, as was Emmeline Vance, who was part of the Order of the Phoenix.

Draco and Theo were taking the Dark Mark. They were tasked with the killing of Albus Dumbledore and bringing Death Eaters into Hogwarts. Hermione had her charm, but they were marked. Hermione sat in the drawing room with Narcissa as they took it.

Abruptly a scream echoed from the room. Hermione recognized it as that of Draco. She let out a small shiver before Narcissa gave her a cup of tea with calming draught.

"The Mark will only hurt in the first few minutes. Then the pain vanishes." Bella told them. Hermione let out a small sigh of relief.

She did her best to close her eyes and block out the sounds of Draco and Theo's screams. She didn't mind torture, but not when it was her friends. The screams stopped as abruptly as they started. Draco stumbled into the room, Theo following. He slumped onto the couch next to her. They both looked sweaty and had messy hair.

"You must hate me now." Draco muttered.

"Never." Hermione promised, kissing him on his right forearm directly opposite to the mark on his left forearm. He gave a wan smile.

"So how are we going to smuggle them in?" Theo wondered later in his room as they all sat.

"We'll think of something." Hermione said.

Hermione scoured the newspapers looking for news and reading about Scrimgeour. He was taking a clear anti-Voldemort stance, and Hermione knew it could do some harm.

HARRY POTTER: THE CHOSEN ONE?

Rumors continue to fly about the mysterious recent disturbance at the Ministry of Magic, during which He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named was sighted once more.

"We're not allowed to talk about it, don't ask me anything," said one agitated Obliviator, who refused to give his name as he left the Ministry last night.

Nevertheless, highly placed sources within the Ministry have confirmed that the disturbance centered on the fabled Hall of Prophecy.

Though Ministry spokeswizards have hitherto refused even to confirm the existence of such a place, a growing number of the Wizarding community believe that the Death Eaters now serving sentences in Azkaban for trespass and attempted theft were attempting to steal a prophecy. The nature of that prophecy is unknown, although speculation is rife that it concerns Harry Potter, the only person ever known to have survived the Killing Curse, and who is also known to have been at the Ministry on the night in question. Some are going so far as to call Potter 'the Chosen One,' believing that the prophecy names him as the only one who will be able to rid us of He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named.

The current whereabouts of the prophecy, if it exists, are unknown, although (cont. page 2, column 5)

SCRIMGEOUR SUCCEEDS FUDGE

Rufus Scrimgeour, previously Head of the Auror office in the Department of Magical Law Enforcement, has succeeded Cornelius Fudge as Minister of Magic. The appointment has largely been greeted with enthusiasm by the Wizarding community, though rumors of a rift between the new Minister and Albus Dumbledore, newly reinstated Chief Warlock of the Wizengamot, surfaced within hours of Scrimgeour taking office.

Scrimgeour's representatives admitted that he had met with Dumbledore at once upon taking possession of the top job, but refused to comment on the topics under discussion. Albus Dumbledore is known to (cont. page 3, column 2)

MINISTRY GUARANTEES STUDENTS' SAFETY

Newly appointed Minister of Magic, Rufus Scrimgeour, spoke today of the tough new measures taken by his Ministry to ensure the safety of students returning to Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry this autumn.

"For obvious reasons, the Ministry will not be going into detail about its stringent new security plans," said the Minister, although an insider confirmed that measures include defensive spells and charms, a complex array of counter-curses, and a small task force of Aurors dedicated solely to the protection of Hogwarts School.

Most seem reassured by the new Minister's tough stand on student safety. Said Mrs. Augusta Longbottom, "My grandson, Neville... good friend of Harry Potter's, incidentally, who fought the Death Eaters alongside him at the Ministry in June and -

Hermione ignored the rest. Crookshanks had ripped the rest up. Hermione looked at another purple leaflet from the Ministry and laughed. This was stupid.

Issued on behalf of The Ministry of Magic

PROTECTING YOUR HOME AND FAMILY AGAINST DARK FORCES

The Wizarding community is currently under threat from an organization calling itself the Death Eaters. Observing the following simple security guidelines will help protect you, your family, and your home from attack.

1. You are advised not to leave the house alone.

2. Particular care should be taken during the hours of darkness. Wherever possible, arrange to complete journeys before night has fallen.

3. Review the security arrangements around your house, making sure that all family members are aware of emergency measures such as Shield and Disillusionment Charms, and, in the case of underage family members, Side-Along-Apparition.

4. Agree on security questions with close friends and family so as to detect Death Eaters masquerading as others by use of the Polyjuice Potion (see page 2).

5. Should you feel that a family member, colleague, friend, or neighbor is acting in a strange manner, contact the Magical Law Enforcement Squad at once. They may have been put under the Imperius Curse (see page 4).

6. Should the Dark Mark appear over any dwelling place or other building, DO NOT ENTER, but contact the Auror office immediately.

7. Unconfirmed sightings suggest that the Death Eaters may now be using Inferi (see page 10). Any sighting of an Inferius, or encounter with same, should be reported to the Ministry IMMEDIATELY.

Hermione grinned. All this and yet Death Eaters went and came easily.

"Hermione!" Narcissa called, distracting her from her work. She got up. It was time for a Death Eater meeting, and she, Theo, and Draco were required to be there. On her first one Bella had told her that she had to look the part, and got her a dress like her own.

It was tight and black with a corset top and silver buttons. The skirt was also black and went until her feet. She wore a silver mask like the rest of them, stood next to Bella, and kept her hair loose and wavy. To the rest of the Death Eaters she was just Bellatrix Lestrange's apprentice.

After a boring meeting Hermione got a chance to leave while The Dark Lord went off to talk to the giants.

Bellatrix was mad. She had tried to gain entry to the Black House after killing her cousin Sirius Black, but apparently everything went to Potter. Bella was spitting with fury about filthy half bloods with no respect and the Noble House of Black.

Hermione was distracted by three owls that were flying to their window. Bella continued ranting.

"Your OWL Results." Lucius told them. Hermione shuddered.

"You did fine." Draco berated her, and Hermione gave a small grin. The owls landed, and Hermione tried opening her letter. Her hands were shaking. Nobody in the room spoke. At last she opened the letter.

Ordinary Wizarding Level Results

Pass Grades:

Outstanding (O)

Exceeds Expectations (E)

Acceptable (A)

Fail Grades:

Poor (P)

Dreadful (D)

Troll (T)

Hermione Jean Granger has achieved:

Astronomy O

Care of Magical Creatures O

Charms O

Defense Against the Dark Arts O

Ancient Runes O

Herbology O

History of Magic E

Transfiguration O

Hermione let out the breath she was holding before giving a small smile.

"You did well?" Draco asked her immediately.

She gave a nod. "O in everything and E in History of Magic."

"An E! I got a P!"

"To be fair, none of us will continue on that subject." Theo told them. Before they could ask what his grades were he said, "O in everything but E in Charms and COMC, and an A in History of Magic. Oh, and D in Divination, but that subject is dreadful anyway."

"I failed Divination too!" Draco said.

"You should have given up the subject like me." she sniffed.

"But where's the fun in that?" Draco pouted. She grinnned.

"Well done." Mrs Malfoy told them.

"We're NEWT Students!" Theo whooped, jumping into the air. Hermione laughed and gave Draco a sound kiss.

"I can be a Healer now." she grinned.

"You can be anything." he promised.

A few days later Hermione was brought news. Igor Karkaroff, a traitor, was dead. Florean Fortescue had been dragged off. Hermione visited him in the dungeons.

"Here." she handed him a sandwich.

"Why?" he asked.

"Because you've been good. We're keeping you alive until the end with no torture, we just want to lower spirits. The moment it's over you can go back as long as you promise not to work against us." she said.

"Thank you." he replied hoarsely.

Ollivanders was also taken, but this time for The Dark Lord's personal reasons.

"Abraham was made Quidditch Captain." Draco told her.

"You're not sad?" Hermione asked.

"He's the senior player. I'll get it next year." he replied.

"Now that we have everything we can go to Diagon Alley!" Narcissa said cheerfully. "Lucius has business to attend to, so he can't join us. Everyone go get ready!"

Hermione pulled on a long blood colored red dress and a pair of black tights with some boots. She pulled her hair into a ponytail.

"Draco." she muttered.

"Yeah?" he asked.

"I just realized, we could check out Borgin and Burkes for anything to help us with smuggling the Death Eaters into Hogwarts."

"Good idea." he replied. "I'll tell Theo."

They went out to Diagon Alley. It was an overcast, murky day. The Leaky Cauldron was actually empty, but they passed through.

Diagon Alley had changed. The colorful, glittering window displays of spellbooks, potion ingredients, and cauldrons were lost to view, hidden behind the large Ministry of Magic posters that had been pasted over them. Most of these somber purple posters carried blown-up versions of the security advice on the Ministry pamphlets that had been sent out over the summer, but others bore moving black-and-white photographs of Death Eaters known to be on the loose. Bellatrix Lestrange was sneering from the front of the nearest apothecary; Hermione sneered back because she knew Bella didn't actually look like that. A few windows were boarded up, including those of Florean Fortescue's Ice Cream Parlor. On the other hand, a number of shabby-looking stalls had sprung up along the street. The nearest one, which had been erected outside Flourish and Blotts, under a striped, stained awning, had a cardboard sign pinned to its front:

AMULETS: Effective Against Werewolves, Dementors, and Inferi

A seedy-looking little wizard was rattling armfuls of silver symbols on chains at passersby. They passed by without a second look. They went to Madame Malkins for robes first. As she adjusted them she kept poking pins into Draco's forearm, and he winced.

"Try not to pin so hard." Hermione snapped. Draco went to examine the handsome green robes he was wearing. He looked around.

"Mother, some blood traitors just walked in. Are you sure you wouldn't like to take a fresh breath of air?" he asked. Hermione turned around to see Potter and Weasel standing there with glares on their faces.

"I don't think there's any need for language like that!" said Madam Malkin, scurrying out from behind the clothes rack holding a tape measure and a wand. "And I don't want wands drawn in my shop either!" she added hastily, for a glance toward the door had shown her Potter and Weasley both standing there with their wands out and pointing at Draco.

"You two." Hermione sniffed. "Always resorting to violence. It's why you were kicked off the Quidditch Team wasn't it?"

"I'm Captain now." Potter said smugly.

"Of course you are." Hermione said with a flippant wave of her hand. "What do you expect? Umbitch is gone and Dumbledore favors you."

"He's a Gryffindor. Of Course Dumbledore favors him." Theo sneered before brushing his floppy black hair away from his face. The boys pulled their wands out again.

Narcissa Malfoy strolled out from behind the clothes rack.

"Put those away," she said coldly to Potter and Weasley. "If you attack my son again, I shall ensure that it is the last thing you ever do."

"Really?" said Potter, taking a step forward. "Going to get a few Death Eater pals to do us in, are you?"

Madam Malkin squealed and clutched at her heart.

"Really, you shouldn't accuse... dangerous thing to say... wands away, please!"

But Potter did not lower his wand. Narcissa smiled meanly.

"I see that being Dumbledore's favorite has given you a false sense of security, Harry Potter. But Dumbledore won't always be there to protect you."

Potter looked mockingly all around the shop. "Wow... look at that... he's not here now! So why not have a go? They might be able to find you a double cell in Azkaban with Nott's loser of a father!"

Theo snarled and tried to race forward, but Hermione held him back. Among his incoherent snarls he said, "My father is dead! Don't you dare insult him! I'll kill you!"

"Don't you dare talk to my mother like that, Potter! Or about Theo's father." Draco snarled. Hermione had never hated them more.

"It's all right, Draco," said Narcissa, restraining him with her thin white fingers upon his shoulder. "I expect Potter will be reunited with dear Sirius before any of us see death."

Madam Malkin dithered for a moment on the spot, then seemed to decide to act as though nothing was happening in the hope that it wouldn't. She bent toward Draco, who was still glaring at Potter.

"I think this left sleeve could come up a little bit more, dear, let me just..."

"Ouch!" bellowed Draco, slapping her hand away. "Watch where you're putting your pins, woman! Mother, I don't think I want these anymore."

Hermione gave a sympathetic nod. She had a few bruises from the pins herself. He pulled the robes over his head and threw them onto the floor at Madam Malkin's feet.

"You're right, Draco," said Narcissa, as Hermione and Theo got ready to go, "now I know the kind of scum that shops here... We'll do better at Twilfitt and Tatting's."

They strode out, Theo still muttering death threats at Potter. How those two could insult a dead person Hermione could never fathom. After they got proper robes at Twilfitt and Tattings, they went back to Diagon Alley.

Hermione picked up some more potions ingredients for her kits before going to the Emporium and stocking up on Owl Treats and Cat Food. As they walked on back to Knockturn Alley they stopped.

"Damn." Theo whistled.

Set against the dull, poster-muffled shop Fronts around them, the windows of Weasley's Wizarding Wheezes hit the eye like a firework display. Casual passersby were looking back over their shoulders at the windows, and a few rather stunned-looking people had actually come to a halt, transfixed. The left-hand window was dazzlingly full of an assortment of goods that revolved, popped, flashed, bounced, and shrieked; Hermione's eyes began to water just looking at it. The right-hand window was covered with a gigantic poster, purple like those of the Ministry, but emblazoned with flashing yellow letters:

Why Are You Worrying About You-Know-Who?

You SHOULD Be Worrying About

U-NO-POO-

the Constipation Sensation That's Gripping the Nation!

Hermione gave a small laugh. If Bella saw this she would go on a murderous rampage.

"Reckon we can get more fireworks?" Draco asked.

And he and Theo led the way into the shop. It was packed with customers; Hermione could not get near the shelves. She stared around, looking up at the boxes piled to the ceiling: here were the Skiving Snackboxes that the twins had perfected during their last, unfinished year at Hogwarts that so many students bought; Hermione noticed that the Nosebleed Nougat was most popular, with only one battered box left on the shelf. There were bins full of trick wands, the cheapest merely turning into rubber chickens or pairs of briefs when waved, the most expensive beating the unwary user around the head and neck, and boxes of quills, which came in Self-Inking, Spell-Checking, and Smart-Answer varieties. A space cleared in the crowd, and Hermione pushed her way toward the counter, where a gaggle of delighted ten-year-olds was watching a tiny little wooden man slowly ascending the steps to a real set of gallows, both perched on a box that read: Reusable hangman-spell it or he'll swing!

"'Patented Daydream Charms' "

Hermione had managed to squeeze through to a large display near the counter and was reading the information on the back of a box bearing a highly colored picture of a handsome youth and a swooning girl who were standing on the deck of a pirate ship.

"'One simple incantation and you will enter a top-quality, highly realistic, thirty-minute daydream, easy to fit into the average school lesson and virtually undetectable (side effects include vacant expression and minor drooling). Not for sale to under-sixteens'.

"Wish we had those when Umbitch was teaching." Theo snorted. Hermione gave a small grin before going around. At the end she bought a package of fireworks, a spell checking quill, and a swamp in the corridor like the Twins did last year. She wanted to put it right in front of Filch's office.

Draco had bought a bunch of distraction items for their task. He bought Decoy Detonators, Peruvian Instant Darkness Powders, and Shield Cloaks.

"Now that you're done with your joke items," Narcissa rebuked them softly, though they saw the small smile on her lips, "Shall we go to Flourish and Blotts before calling it a day?"

After Flourish and Blotts, in which Hermione bought many more books on how to use Charms and Transfiguration in battle, they went back, but the three of them managed to slip off. Narcissa gave them a small smirk before following from a distance.

They snuck of to Knockturn Alley, which was even darker and seedier than before, and entered Borgin and Burkes. As they browsed around, Hermione noticed a cabinet.

"Draco!" she muttered, and he came with Theo. "Didn't Abraham vanish into a Vanishing Cabinet, but he didn't know where the other pair was?"

"Yeah." he nodded.

Theo caught on. "This might be the pair that leads right into Hogwarts."

"Mr Borgin." Hermione called sweetly, though she kept a hint of threat in there.

"Yes." he said in an oily voice.

"This is a Vanishing Cabinet, right?" she asked.

"Yes." he replied. "But it's broken."

"And could you possibly know how to fix it?" Draco asked.

"Possibly," said Borgin, in a tone that suggested he was unwilling to commit himself. "I'll need to see it, though. Why don't you bring it into the shop?"

"I can't," said Draco. "It's got to stay put. I just need you to tell me how to do it."

Borgin licked his lips nervously.

"Well, without seeing it, I must say it will be a very difficult job, perhaps impossible. I couldn't guarantee anything."

"No?" Hermione asked. "Did you know that I've been tutored by the only woman in his ranks?" she kept her words vague just in case. He looked frightened.

Draco shuffled around and rolled up his sleeve lightly, displaying the end of his Dark Mark. Borgin looked frightened.

"Tell anyone," said Theo threatened, "and there will be retribution. You know Fenrir Greyback? I'm sure he would love to drop in from time to time and check how you're doing."

"There will be no need for-"

"I'll decide that," said Draco. "Well, We'd better be off. And don't forget to keep that one safe, we'll need it."

"Perhaps you'd like to take it now?"

"No, of course I wouldn't, you stupid, little man, how would I look carrying that down the street? Just don't sell it."

"Of course not... sir."

"Not a word to anyone, Borgin, or you'll find yourself dead." Hermione snarled.

"Naturally, naturally," murmured Borgin, bowing again.

They stalked out.

"That went well." Theo commented as they met Mrs Malfoy and got ready to leave.

"Now we just need to find the cabinet in Hogwarts." Hermione said, posing another problem. They continued to work on it until it was time to go to Hogwarts.

"Bye!" they waved as they boarded the train and found the usual compartment. Hermione pushed her trunk up and let Artemis out to fly to Hogwarts. She took Crookshanks, put him next to her, and pulled out her copy of Advanced Rune Translation to read. Soon the rest of the group joined and Theo had to expand the carriage to hold them all with their pets and books. Pansy with her new pink Pygmy Puff Candy, Blaise, Theo, Draco and his owl Royal, Daphne and her black cat Mystery, Luna, Vince, and Greg.

"Did you…" Pansy asked as the train started. They had Dobby send a letter about the Marking and Task to their friends but were very vague in case it was intercepted.

"Mm hmm." Theo nodded.

The weather beyond the train windows was as patchy as it had been all summer; they passed through stretches of the chilling mist, then out into weak, clear sunlight.

"I have to go on prefect duties now." Draco scowled, and he led Pansy out of the compartment. Hermione lay her head on Blaise's lap as she read her book while Crookshanks played with Mystery. Luna read the Quibbler and Theo and Daphne studied.

Suddenly a young girl walked in. It was Bella Farley.

"Hey." she grinned. "So, I'm supposed to deliver these to you two. They're from our new Professor Slughorn who's on the train."

She used an illusion Luna taught her and pulled two pieces of parchment rolled up and tied with violet ribbon out of her hair. They went to Hermione and Blaise.

"Thanks Bella." Blaise grinned charmingly before Luna whacked him on the head.

"What is it?" Theo demanded.

"An invitation." Blaise told them.

Miss Hermione,

I would be delighted if you would join me for a bite of lunch in compartment C.

Sincerely, Professor H.E.F. Slughorn

"Wanna go?" Blaise asked.

"Might as well." Hermione shrugged.

They maneuvered their way through the thick crowds on the train and reached the compartment. Blaise opened the door and they walked in. They saw that they were not his only invitees. Hermione didn't recognize many of the people, but she kept quiet and took a seat next to Blaise. The Weaselette entered after a little and squashed herself into a corner.

Potter and Neville entered after a while, and she saw that he was the most anticipated. Again with the favoritism.

"Harry, m'boy!" said Slughorn, jumping up at the sight of him so that his great velvet-covered belly seemed to fill all the remaining space in the compartment. His shiny bald head and great silvery mustache gleamed as brightly in the sunlight as the golden buttons on his waistcoat. "Good to see you, good to see you! And you must be Mr. Longbottom!"

The two sat down and Slughorn started introductions.

"Now, do you know everyone?" Slughorn asked Potter and Longbottom. "Blaise Zabini is in your year, of course-"

Blaise made no sign of recognition and the Gryffindors didn't either.

"Hermione Granger is also in your year." he said.

Hermione gave a small smile before going back to her usual emotionless face.

"This is Cormac McLaggen, perhaps you've come across each other-? No?"

McLaggen, a large, wiry-haired youth, raised a hand, and Potter and Longbottom nodded at him.

"-and this is Marcus Belby, I don't know whether-?"

Belby, who was thin and nervous-looking, gave a strained smile. He was a Ravenclaw if Hermione's memory served her

"-and this charming young lady tells me she knows you!" Slughorn finished.

Ginny Weasley grimaced at Potter and Longbottom.

"Well now, this is most pleasant," said Slughorn cozily. "A chance to get to know you all a little better. Here, take a napkin. I've packed my own lunch; the trolley, as I remember it, is heavy on Licorice Wands, and a poor old man's digestive system isn't quite up to such things... Pheasant, Belby?"

Belby started, and accepted what looked like half a cold pheasant.

"I was just telling young Marcus here that I had the pleasure of teaching his Uncle Damocles," Slughorn told Harry and Neville, now passing around a basket of rolls. "Outstanding wizard, outstanding, and his Order of Merlin most well-deserved. Do you see much of your uncle, Marcus?"

Unfortunately, Beiby had just taken a large mouthful of pheasant; in his haste to answer Slughorn he swallowed too fast, turned purple, and began to choke.

"Anapneo," said Slughorn calmly, pointing his wand at Belby, whose airway seemed to clear at once.

Hermione made a note to remember that spell, she didn't know it.

"Not... not much of him, no," gasped Belby, his eyes streaming.

"Well, of course, I daresay he's busy," said Slughorn, looking questioningly at Belby. "I doubt he invented the Wolfsbane Potion without considerable hard work!"

"I suppose..." said Belby, who seemed afraid to take another bite of pheasant until he was sure that Slughorn had finished with him. "Er... he and my dad don't get on very well, you see, so I don't really know much about..."

His voice tailed away as Slughorn gave him a cold smile and turned to McLaggen instead.

"Now, you, Cormac," said Slughorn, "I happen to know you see a lot of your Uncle Tiberius, because he has a rather splendid picture of the two of you hunting Nogtails in, I think, Norfolk?"

"Oh, yeah, that was fun, that was," said McLaggen. "We went with Bertie Higgs and Rufus Scrimgeour-this was before he became Minister, obviously-"

"Ah, you know Bertie and Rufus too?" beamed Slughorn, now offering around a small tray of pies; somehow, Belby was missed out. "Now tell me..."

Hermione quickly figured out why they were here seemed to have been invited because they were connected to somebody well-known, powerful, or influential... everyone except Weasley and Hermione. Blaise, who was interrogated after McLaggen, told everyone about his mother, a famously beautiful witch for a mother ( she had been married seven times, each of her husband's dying mysteriously and leaving her mounds of gold). She was actually a nice person. It was Longbottom's turn next: this was a very uncomfortable ten minutes, for his parents, well-known Aurors, had been tortured into insanity by Bellatrix Lestrange and a couple of Death Eater cronies. At the end of Neville's interview, Hermione had the impression he was reserving his impressions on Longbottom to see if he turned out better. Belby had been ignored completely after that.

"And Miss Granger! Ah, your accomplishments are excellent!"

Hermione gave a small smile before keeping her head down.

"For those of you that don't know, Miss Granger is the youngest Potions apprentice in Magical Britain! She passed both her OWLS and NEWTS in third year I believe?"

"Yes sir." Hermione nodded. "I work with Professor Snape two days a week."

"Ah yes! She had created two patented potions I believe?"

"Yes." Hermione nodded. "A relief from the Cruciatus, though it can't heal someone's insanity, and a potion that allows anyone to get through a house's wards undetected."

"And now," said Slughorn, shifting massively in his seat with the air of a compere introducing his star act. "Harry Potter! Where to begin? I feel I barely scratched the surface when we met over the summer!"

He contemplated Potter for a moment, then said, "'The Chosen One,' they're calling you now!"

Hermione rolled her eyes and Blasie let out a small smirk.

"Of course," said Slughorn, watching Potter closely, "there have been rumors for years... I remember when-well-after that terrible night-Lily-James-and you survived-and the word was that you must have powers beyond the ordinary-"

Blaise gave a tiny little cough that was clearly supposed to indicate amused skepticism. An angry voice burst out from behind Slughorn.

"Yeah, Zabini, because you're so talented... at posing..."

"Oh dear!" chuckled Slughorn comfortably, looking around at Weasley, who was glaring at Blaise around Slughorn's great belly. "You want to be careful, Blaise! I saw this young lady perform the most marvelous Bat-Bogey Hex as I was passing her carriage! I wouldn't cross her!"

Blaise merely looked contemptuous.

"Like she could do anything worthwhile." Hermione scoffed. Weasley scowled, and flipped her long red hair out of the way.

"Anyway," said Slughorn, turning back to Harry. "Such rumors this summer. Of course, one doesn't know what to believe, the Prophet has been known to print inaccuracies, make mistakes... but there seems little doubt, given the number of witnesses, that there was quite a disturbance at the Ministry and that you were there in the thick of it all!"

Potter nodded, and Slughorn beamed at him.

"So modest, so modest, no wonder Dumbledore is so fond-you were there, then? But the rest of the stories-so sensational, of course, one doesn't know quite what to believe-this fabled prophecy, for instance-"

"We never heard a prophecy," said Longbottom, turning geranium pink as he said it.

"That's right," said Weasley staunchly. "Neville and I were both there too, and all this 'Chosen One' rubbish is just the Prophet making things up as usual."

"You were both there too, were you?" said Slughorn with great interest, looking from Weasley to Longbottom, but both of them sat clam-like before his encouraging smile. "Yes... well... it is true that the Prophet often exaggerates, of course..." Slughorn said, sounding a little disappointed. "I remember dear Gwenog telling me (Gwenog Jones, I mean, of course, Captain of the Holyhead Harpies)-"

He meandered off into a long-winded reminiscence, but Hermione had the impression that Slughorn was not convinced.

The afternoon wore on with more anecdotes about illustrious wizards Slughorn had taught, all of whom had been delighted to join what he called the "Slug Club" at Hogwarts. Hermione actually found herself learning a lot about young wizards and witches. Finally the train emerged from yet another long misty stretch into a red sunset, and Slughorn looked around, blinking in the twilight.

"Good gracious, it's getting dark already! I didn't notice that they'd lit the lamps! You'd better go and change into your robes, all of you. McLaggen, you must drop by and borrow that book on Nogtails. Harry, Blaise... any time you're passing. Same goes for you, miss," he twinkled at Ginny. "Well, off you go, off you go!"

Hermione and Blaise went back to the carriage and she entered, sitting down while Blaise entered. For some reason, he couldn't jam the door shut.

"What's wrong with this thing?" said Blaise angrily as he smashed the sliding door repeatedly into what seemed like an invisible barrier. Suddenly he toppled back onto Greg's lap and Blaise jumped up, snarling slightly as Luna pulled him back down.

Draco put his head in her lap and she started toying with his long white blonde locks. Pansy was braiding Luna's long hair into a dutch braid. Draco gave them all a meaningful look as Luna crafted a small bat illusion which signified that there was a spy in the compartment.

"So, Blaise," said Malfoy, "what did Slughorn want?"

"Just trying to make up to well-connected people," said Blaise, who was still glowering at Greg. "Not that he managed to find many."

"Who else had he invited?" he demanded.

"McLaggen from Gryffindor," said Blaise.

"Oh yeah, his uncle's big in the Ministry," said Draco.

"-someone else called Belby, from Ravenclaw-"

"Not him, he's a prat!" said Pansy.

"-and Longbottom, Potter, and that Weasley girl," finished Blaise.

Draco sat up very suddenly, disturbing Crookshanks who hissed before slinking into Daphne's lap.

"He invited Longbottom?"

"Well, I assume so, as Longbottom was there," said Blaise indifferently.

"What's Longbottom got to interest Slughorn?"

Blaise shrugged.

"He's interested in morons." Hermione smirked.

"Potter, precious Potter, obviously he wanted a look at the Chosen One," sneered Malfoy, "but that Weasley girl! What's so special about her?"

"A lot of boys like her," said Pansy. "Even you think she's good-looking, don't you, Blaise, and we all know how hard you are to please!"

"I wouldn't touch a filthy little blood traitor like her whatever she looked like," said Blaise coldly. "I have Luna, who's prettier and nicer."

Luna gave a small smile.

"You and Hermione are the only good ones there." Draco said off-handedly. "Father used to be one of his favorites but I would hate to be in the club, imagine missing Quidditch!"

Hermione rolled her eyes. "You boys and Quidditch."

"You wouldn't get invited anyway." said Blaise. "Theo's dad and him used to be old friends but he was caught in the Ministry and killed."

"Don't remind me." Theo snarled, before Daphne whapped him on the head softly and deposited Mystery into his lap, distracting him.

"Well, who cares what he's interested in? What is he, when you come down to it? Just some stupid teacher." Draco yawned ostentatiously. "Anyway, Hermione can tell me everything."

Hermione looked at him suspiciously and Luna crafted another illusion of a bat, sending it flying into the luggage compartment. She realized there was a spy there.

"Well, you never know," said Draco with the ghost of a smirk. "I might have-er-moved on to bigger and better things."

Clearly he got the message too. Hermione looked at everyone and they all gave a subtle nod to say they understood.. Thank god Augustus Rookwood, one of the escaped death eaters and the only sane one, taught them how to react when spies were there.

"Do you mean-Him" Pansy said dramatically, nothing like how she truly was.

Draco shrugged.

"Mother wants me to complete my education, but personally, I don't see it as that important these days. I mean, think about it... When the Dark Lord takes over, is he going to care how many O.W.L.s or N.E.W.T.s anyone's got? Of course he isn't... it'll be all about the kind of service he received, the level of devotion he was shown."

Hermione could have snorted. You needed good grades to be in his ranks, or you needed to be able to follow orders.

"And you think you'll be able to do something for him?" asked Blaise scathingly. "Sixteen years old and not even fully qualified yet?"

"I've just said, haven't I? Maybe he doesn't care if I'm qualified. Maybe the job he wants me to do isn't something that you need to be qualified for," said Draco quietly.

Crabbe and Goyle were both sitting with their mouths open like gargoyles. Pansy was gazing down at Draco as though she had never seen anything so awe-inspiring. Hermione was downing a calming potion so she didn't burst into laughter.

"I can see Hogwarts," said Draco, clearly relishing the effect he had created as he pointed out of the blackened window. "We'd better get our robes on."

As they were getting their trunks down Hermione heard a weird noise that Draco clearly heard too.

"Go." he murmured to her, as he locked himself in the compartment. Hermione sat quietly on the way to Hogwarts as she wondered what his behavior was about. Draco caught up with them in the hall as she sat down. The sorting hat started singing it's song, but Hermione ignored it.

"What happened?" she asked.

"Potter was the spy." he replied. "Under his Invisibility Cloak. I put a body bind on him and broke his nose and fingers in retaliation for what he did third year."

Hermione grinned viciously. "He deserves it."

The sorting ended with Antony Macnair being sorted into Slytherin. The food appeared and they dug in. Hermione was quite hungry and had never enjoyed the food more. After the feast she sat down and while her friends ate examined the staff table for any changes.

Hagrid was waving wildly at some student in the Gryffindor table. Hagrid had never quite managed to comport himself with the dignity of Professor McGonagall, Head of Gryffindor House, the top of whose head came up to somewhere between Hagrid's elbow and shoulder as they were sitting side by side, and who was looking disapprovingly at this enthusiastic greeting. HERMIONE was surprised to see the Divination teacher, Professor Trelawney, sitting on Hagrid's other side; she rarely left her tower room, and She had never seen her at the start-of-term feast before. She looked as odd as ever, glittering with beads and trailing shawls, her eyes magnified to enormous size by her spectacles.

She turned herself back into the conversation to hear Draco telling them all about how he shattered Potter's nose to raucous laughter.

Dumbledore got to his feet at the staff table. The talk and laughter echoing around the Hall died away almost instantly.

"The very best of evenings to you!" he said, smiling broadly, his arms opened wide as though to embrace the whole room.

"His hand!" Pansy muttered.

She was not the only one who had noticed. Dumbledore's right hand was blackened and dead-looking. Whispers swept the room; Dumbledore, interpreting them correctly, merely smiled and shook his purple-and-gold sleeve over his injury.

"Nothing to worry about," he said airily. "Now ... to our new students, welcome, to our old students, welcome back! Another year full of magical education awaits you... "

"It looks as if it's died," said Hermione, with a slightly victorious smirk on her face. She hated the old man.

"... and Mr. Filch, our caretaker, has asked me to say that there is a blanket ban on any joke items bought at the shop called Weasleys' Wizard Wheezes.

"Those wishing to play for their House Quidditch teams should give their names to their Heads of House as usual. We are also looking for new Quidditch commentators, who should do likewise."

"You should sign up." Daphne told Luna. "You have a good voice."

"I'll see." Luna said airily.

"We are pleased to welcome a new member of staff this year. Professor Slughorn." Slughorn stood up, his bald head gleaming in the candlelight, his big waistcoated belly casting the table into shadow, "is a former colleague of mine who has agreed to resume his old post of Potions master."

"Potions?"

"Potions?"

The word echoed all over the Hall as people wondered whether they had heard right.

"Professor Snape, meanwhile," said Dumbledore, raising voice so that it carried over all the muttering, "will be taking the position of Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher."

"No!" said Potter loudly, and Hermione used a silent jinx Bella taught her to make him sit down.

Snape, who was sitting on Dumbledore's right, did not stand up his mention of his name; he merely raised a hand in lazy acknowledgment of the applause from the Slytherin table. Hermione thought it was horrible that no other table applauded for him.

Dumbledore cleared his throat. the whole Hall had erupted in a buzz of conversation at the news that Snape had finally achieved his heart's desire. Seemingly oblivious to the sensational nature of the news he had just imparted, Dumbledore said nothing more about staff appointments, but waited a few seconds to ensure that the silence was absolute before continuing.

"Now, as everybody in this Hall knows, Lord Voldemort and his followers are once more at large and gaining in strength."

The silence seemed to tauten and strain as Dumbledore spoke. Hermione rolled her eyes and held Draco's hand.

"I cannot emphasize strongly enough how dangerous the present situation is, and how much care each of us at Hogwarts must take to ensure that we remain safe. The castle's magical fortifications have been strengthened over the summer, we are protected in new and more powerful ways, but we must still guard scrupulously against carelessness on the part of any student or member of staff. I urge you, therefore, to abide by any security restrictions that you teachers might impose upon you, however irksome you might find them-in particular, the rule that you are not to be out of bed after hours. I implore you, should you notice anything strange or suspicious within or outside the castle, to report it to a member of staff immediately. I trust you to conduct yourselves, always, with the utmost regard for your own and others' safety."

Dumbledore's blue eyes swept over the students before he smiled once more.

"But now, your beds await, as warm and comfortable as you could possibly wish, and I know that your top priority is to be well-rested for your lessons tomorrow. Let us therefore say good night. Pip pip!"

With the usual deafening scraping noise, the benches moved back and the hundreds of students began to file out of the Great Hall toward their dormitories. Hermione went back to the common room as Draco and Pansy helped the 5th year prefects Chastity Knight and Quincy Nott shepherd the new students back to the dorms. Quincy had stayed with the Greengrasses that summer because he didn't like Malfoy Manor; Theo had visited him often.

Hermione had decided to unpack before rushing downstairs.

"Guys." Abraham Montague said, as he was the senior prefect. "Be careful. The other houses will want nothing more than to catch us in doing something and getting us expelled, so you must be careful. The SM will continue like always, but Hermione will also be taking the position of Duelling when she has time. Now go to bed, and be careful."

Hermione lay in her bed that night, watching the ceiling. So much had changed. They had so much to do. First thing next morning she would ask Abraham where the Vanishing Cabinet was. But for now, she would rest. She was back at Hogwarts.

Chapter Text

"What was that yesterday?" Daphne asked them. She was referring to the train incident.

"Oh." Draco sniggered. "I wanted to scare Potter somehow since he was spying on us."

"Come on." Blaise said impatiently. "Breakfast!" he dragged them into the hall as Hermione followed behind laughing.

The ceiling of the Great Hall was serenely blue and streaked with frail, wispy clouds, just like the squares of sky visible through the high mullioned windows.

"What are your periods?" Theo asked.

Pansy gave a small snicker but said, "I'm definitely not taking COMC."

"Never." Hermione agreed fervently.

After they had eaten, they remained in their places, awaiting Professor Snape's descent from the staff table. The distribution of class schedules was more complicated than usual this year, for Professor Snape needed first to confirm that everybody had achieved the necessary O.W.L. grades to continue with their chosen N.E.W.T.s.

Hermione was cleared for DADA, Runes, Transfiguration, Charms, Potions, and Herbology before she shot off to first period runes with Zacharias Smith. The class was much harder now that it was NEWT year and they were set to memorizing a whole new library of Runes.

After Runes she went to the Common Room to pick up her friends who all had a free first period before ushering them to Defense Against the Dark Arts with Professor Snape. Hermione found it funny that she was defending herself against them when she used them.

"Too much Runes homework." Zach groaned to them. The classroom door opened as he spoke, and Snape stepped into the corridor, his sallow face framed as ever by two curtains of greasy black hair. Silence fell over the queue immediately.

"Inside," he said.

Hermione looked around as they entered. Snape had imposed his personality upon the room already; it was gloomier than usual, as curtains had been drawn over the windows, and was lit by candlelight. New pictures adorned the walls, many of them showing people who appeared to be in pain, sporting grisly injuries or strangely contorted body parts. Nobody spoke as they settled down, looking around at the shadowy, gruesome pictures. Hermione liked the room.

His black eyes roved over their upturned faces, lingering on the Gryffindors in particular.

"You have had five teachers in this subject so far, I believe."

"Naturally, these teachers will all have had their own methods and priorities. Given this confusion I am surprised so many of you scraped an O.W.L. in this subject. I shall be even more surprised if all of you manage to keep up with the N.E.W.T. work, which will be more advanced."

Snape set off around the edge of the room, speaking now in a lower voice; the class craned their necks to keep him in view.

"The Dark Arts," said Snape, "are many, varied, ever-changing, and eternal. Fighting them is like fighting a many-headed monster, which, each time a neck is severed, sprouts a head even fiercer and cleverer than before. You are fighting that which is unfixed, mutating, indestructible."

Hermione thought he described them perfectly.

"Your defenses," said Snape, a little louder, "must therefore be as flexible and inventive as the arts you seek to undo. These pictures," he indicated a few of them as he swept past, "give a fair representation of what happens to those who suffer, for instance, the Cruciatus Curse" (he waved a hand toward a witch who was clearly shrieking in agony) "feel the Dementor's Kiss" (a wizard lying huddled and blank-eyed, slumped against a wall) "or provoke the aggression of the Inferius" (a bloody mass upon ground).

"Has an Inferius been seen, then?" said Parvati Patil in a high pitched voice. "Is it definite, is he using them?"

"The Dark Lord has used Inferi in the past," said Snape, "which means you would be well-advised to assume he might use them again. Now..."

He set off again around the other side of the classroom toward his desk, and again, they watched him as he walked, his dark robes billowing behind him.

"... you are, I believe, complete novices in the use of non-verbal spells. What is the advantage of a non-verbal spell?"

When no one but Lily Moon raised their hand, Hermione raised hers so that Professor Snape didn't have to give points to Gryffindor.

"Miss Granger?"

"Your adversary has no warning about what kind of magic you're about to perform," said Hermione, "which gives you a split-second advantage. It involves more magic however, and can be potentially weaker."

"Correct. . Yes, those who progress in using magic without shouting incantations gain an element of surprise in their spell-casting. Not all wizards can do this, of course; it is a question of concentration and mind power which some lack."

"You will now divide," Snape went on, "into pairs. One partner will attempt to jinx the other without speaking. The other will attempt to repel the jinx in equal silence. Carry on."

Ten minutes into the lesson Hermione managed to silently shield against Draco's whispered stunning curse. She had been practicing with Bellatrix and was thankful for the extra practice. Draco managed to get a silent hex 15 minutes later.

"Take 20 points to Miss Granger for being the first to shield herself silently." Snape said.

Once Hermione had done it she understood how. It was all with the magic. The words were mostly used as a focus for her magic, but she had to strain more to do it wandlessly. It came down to will. She had to will her magic to do what she wanted. After that Hermione managed to silently hex Draco.

"Pathetic, Weasley," said Snape, after a while. "Here-let me show you-"

He turned on Potter quickly and Potter ignored the silent shield part, he yelled, "Protego!"

His Shield Charm was so strong Snape was knocked off-balance and hit a desk. The whole class had looked around and now watched as Snape righted himself, scowling.

"Do you remember me telling you we are practicing non-verbal spells, Potter?"

"Yes," said Potter stiffly.

"Yes, sir."

"There's no need to call me 'sir,' Professor." he said. Hermione almost chuckled but she knew better than that.

"Detention, Saturday night, my office," said Snape. "I do not take cheek from anyone, Potter... not even the Chosen One."

"Idiot." Daphne said after class. "He already knows that Snape hates him but still does that."

After a healthy lunch they sped down to the dungeons where Professor Slughorn would teach them. Potter, Weasley, and Lily Moon all managed to make it in much to their disappointment. Only Hermione, Draco, Theo, and Blaise were from Slytherin. Michael Corner, Padma Patil, Anthony Goldstein, and Terry Boot were from Ravenclaw. Ernie MacMillan was the only Hufflepuff.

The dungeon door opened and Slughorn's belly preceded him out of the door. As they filed into the room, his great walrus mustache curved above his beaming mouth, and he greeted Potter, Blaise, and Hermione with particular enthusiasm.

The dungeon was, most unusually, already full of vapors and odd smells.. The four Slytherins took a table together, as did the four Ravenclaws. This left the Gryffindors and Hufflepuffs together. Hermione was near a cauldron emitting amazing scents- peppermint, parchment and darkness.

"Now then, now then, now then," said Slughorn, whose massive outline was quivering through the many shimmering vapors. "Scales out, everyone, and potion kits, and don't forget your copies of Advanced Potion-Making..."

"Sir?" said Potter, raising his hand.

"Harry, m'boy?"

"I haven't got a book or scales or anything-nor's Ron-we didn't realize we'd be able to do the N.E.W.T., you see-"

"Ah, yes, Professor McGonagall did mention... not to worry, my dear boy, not to worry at all. You can use ingredients from the store cupboard today, and I'm sure we can lend you some scales, and we've got a small stock of old books here, they'll do until you can write to Flourish and Blotts..."

Slughorn strode over to a corner cupboard and, after a moment's foraging, emerged with two very battered-looking copies of Advanced Potion-Making by Libatius Borage, which he gave to them with two sets of tarnished scales.

"Sir?" Hermione raised her hand next.

"Yes Miss Granger?"

"As you might know I already completed my Potions NEWT. I usually spend the time in this class researching or brewing for my Mastery."

"Hmm, yes, well, how about I set you a challenge? I know that you meet with Severus for your Mastery twice a week, and I have already given him Potions Lab D for his use. I think that you could be my assistant of sorts! Simply go around helping students and answering questions."

"Ok sir." Hermione said with a smile.

"Now then," said Slughorn, returning to the front of the class and inflating his already bulging chest so that the buttons on his waistcoat threatened to burst off, "I've prepared a few potions for you to have a look at, just out of interest, you know. These are the kind of thing you ought to be able to make after completing your N.E.W.T.s. You ought to have heard of 'em, even if you haven't made 'em yet. Anyone tell me what this one is?"

He indicated the cauldron nearest the Gryffindor table. It had plain water boiling in it, but Hermione recognized Veritaserum.

Hermione raised her hand; Slughorn pointed at her.

"It's Veritaserum, a colorless, odorless potion that forces the drinker to tell the truth. It simply detaches one from his mindscape so that he can not lie." said Hermione.

"Very good, very good!" said Slughorn happily. "Now," he continued, pointing at the cauldron nearest the Ravenclaw table, "this one here is pretty well known... Featured in a few Ministry leaflets lately too... Who can-?"

Hermione's hand was the only one again.

"lt's Polyjuice Potion, sir," she said.

Hermione recognized the slow-bubbling, mudlike substance in the second cauldron from brewing it this summer for the Death Eaters.

"Excellent, excellent! Now, this one her... yes, my dear?" said Slughorn, now looking slightly bemused, as Hermione's hand was again the only one.

"It's Amortentia!"

"It is indeed. Ir seems almost foolish to ask," said Slughorn, who was looking mightily impressed, "but I assume you know what it does?"

"It's the most powerful love potion in the world!" said Hermione.

"Quite right! You recognized it, I suppose, by its distinctive mother-of-pearl sheen?"

"And the steam rising in characteristic spirals," said Hermione, "and it's supposed to smell differently to each of according to what attracts us.

"Well, well, take twenty well-earned points for Slytherin, Miss Granger," said Slughorn genially.

"Amortentia doesn't really create love, of course. It is impossible to manufacture or imitate love. No, this will simply cause a powerful infatuation or obsession. It is probably the most dangerous and powerful potion in this room-oh yes," he said, nodding gravely at Draco and Theo, both of whom were smirking skeptically. "When you have seen as much of life as I have, you will not underestimate the power of obsessive love...

"And now," said Slughorn, "it is time for us to start work."

"Sir, you haven't told us what's in this one," said Ernie Macmillan, pointing at a small black cauldron standing on Slughorn's desk. The potion within was splashing about merrily; it was the color of molten gold, and large drops were leaping like goldfish above the surface, though not a particle had spilled.

"Oho," said Slughorn again. Hermione was sure that Slughorn had not forgotten the potion at all, but had waited to be asked for dramatic effect. "Yes. That. Well, that one, ladies and gentlemen, is a most curious little potion called Felix Felicis. I take it," he turned, smiling, to look at Hermione, "that you recognize it?"

Hermione did. She had wanted to get her hands on some for forever but didn't have the proper cauldron. Finally this summer she saved up enough to buy and obsidian cauldron required for brewing Liquid Luck.

"It's liquid luck," said Hermione excitedly. "It makes you lucky!"

The whole class seemed to sit up a little straighter. Draco sat up straighter, and she knew that it would be amazing in the search for the Vanishing Cabinet.

"Quite right, take another ten points for Slytherin. Yes, it's a funny little potion, Felix Felicis," said Slughorn. "Desperately tricky to make, and disastrous to get wrong. However, if brewed correctly, as this has been, you will find that all your endeavors tend to succeed ... at least until the effects wear off."

"Why don't people drink it all the time, sir?" said Terry Boot eagerly.

"Because if taken in excess, it causes giddiness, recklessness, and dangerous overconfidence," said Slughorn. "Too much of a good thing, you know... highly toxic in large quantities. But taken sparingly, and very occasionally..."

"Have you ever taken it, sir?" asked Michael Corner with great interest.

"Twice in my life," said Slughorn. "Once when I was twenty-four, once when I was fifty-seven. Two tablespoonfuls taken with breakfast. Two perfect days."

He gazed dreamily into the distance. Whether he was playacting or not, thought Hermione, the effect was good.

"And that," said Slughorn, apparently coming back to earth, "is what I shall be offering as a prize in this lesson."

There was silence in which every bubble and gurgle of the surrounding potions seemed magnified tenfold.

"One tiny bottle of Felix Felicis," said Slughorn, taking a minuscule glass bottle with a cork in it out of his pocket and showing it to them all. "Enough for twelve hours' luck. From dawn till dusk, you will be lucky in everything you attempt."

"Now, I must give you warning that Felix Felicis is a banned substance in organized competition... sporting events, for instance, examinations, or elections. So the winner is to use it on an ordinary day only... and watch how that ordinary day becomes extraordinary!"

"So," said Slughorn, suddenly brisk, "how are you to win this fabulous prize? Well, by turning to page ten of Advanced Potion Making. We have a little over an hour left to us, which should be time for you to make a decent attempt at the Draught of Living Death. I know it is more complex than anything you have attempted before, and I do not expect a perfect potion from anybody. The person who does best, however, will win little Felix here. Off you go!"

Draco, Theo, and Blaise immediately took out the books Hermione gave them with her modified recipes. There was a scraping as everyone drew their cauldrons toward them and some loud clunks as people began adding weights to their scales, but nobody spoke. The concentration within the room was almost tangible.

Hermione paused to help Draco cut his Valerian roots. Within ten minutes, the whole place was full of bluish steam. He crushed his bean thanks to the book and his potion turned lilac. He added a clockwise turn to the counter clockwise because Professor Snape had told her it helped.

"Hmm, this isn't the assigned book!" Slughorn exclaimed as he passed by the Slytherins.

"No sir." Blaise said respectfully. "Hermione made these for all of Slytherin. They have modified recipes that make the potion better or quicker."

"Really?!" he boomed, looking at Hermione. She grinned.

"Very well, carry on."

"And time's... up!" called Slughorn. "Stop stirring, please!"

Slughorn moved slowly among the tables, peering into cauldrons. He made no comment, but occasionally gave the potions a stir or a sniff. He looked at the Slytherin cauldrons and saw completely pale potions for all of them.

"Good lord!" he boomed. "Every single one of you has a perfect potion! Whoever shall I give it to?"

He moved onto the Gryffindor table and looked at Potter's.

"The clear winner!" he cried to the dungeon. "Excellent, excellent, Harry! Good lord, it's clear you've inherited your mother's talent. She was a dab hand at Potions, Lily was! Here you are, then, here you are-one bottle of Felix Felicis, as promised, and use it well!"

Hermione was dumbfounded. How the hell had Potter managed to brew something better? He smirked before pocketing the bottle; Hermione vowed to brew her own cauldron. She snuck a look at his potion and saw that it looked the same; Slughorn was just showing favoritism.

For the rest of the week in Potions Potter managed to brew an exceptional Potion , with the result that by their fourth lesson Slughorn was raving about Potter's abilities, saying that he had rarely taught anyone so talented.

"It doesn't make any sense!" Hermione ranted to Professor Snape. "He has to have special instructions somehow!"

"I'm afraid that even if you brewed better than him Horace favors Mister Potter." Snape said.

As Flora and Hestia told them, the sixth-years' free periods were not the hours of blissful relaxation, but times in which to attempt to keep up with the vast amount of homework they were being set. Not only were they studying as though they had exams every day, but the lessons themselves had become more demanding than ever before. Hermione had to make McGonagall repeat her instructions a few times.

Non-verbal spells were now expected, not only in Defense Against the Dark Arts, but in Charms and Transfiguration too. The older students had taught all the 6th years the trick to nonverbal spells but the other houses hadn't learned it yet. It was a relief to get outside into the greenhouses; they were dealing with more dangerous plants than ever in Herbology, but at least they were still allowed to swear loudly if the Venomous Tentacula seized them unexpectedly from behind.

Soon it was Quidditch Tryouts. Hermione healed all the hurt trainees. Draco got his spot, and it turned out that Astoria was surprisingly good at Quidditch. She became a chaser, and Willa was still a beater.

Hermione was of course still Team Healer, and she had some more healing up her sleeve, including some dark healing spells that did the job quickly and properly.

The next morning Hermione sat at the table waiting for the post owls to deliver her new Dark Defense book. The post owls arrived, swooping down through rain-flecked windows, scattering everyone with droplets of water. Most people were receiving more post than usual; anxious parents were keen to hear from their children and to reassure them, in turn, that all was well at home. Soon she spied Artemis and she received her book.

"Thanks girl." Hermione murmured, feeding her owl a piece of bacon. Artemis gave a hoot and flapped off. She opened the book as she ate and started reading. It was amazing. It taught her how to hide her dark magic in a cloak of neutral magic, but it would take more Occlumency training than she had.

Halfway through October came their first trip of the term to Hogsmeade. Hermione woke early and went through the book Professor Snape gave her. It had counter curses to many unknown spells that Hermione needed after Vince was hexed to have his toenails grow really long by Potter. Professor Snape had looked mutinous when he heard about it, and given Potter a week's detention.

She had just found a new spell in Professor Snape's book that was completely nonverbal that levitated someone upside down. She vowed to use it on Potter next time he tried hexing them.

Soon it was Hogsmeade time. The day was cold and bitter, so Hermione was bundled up in a long green dress with leggings and a set of thick fur robes. The walk to the Three Broomsticks was bitterly cold even with warming charms Vince and Greg ended up giving Hermione and Pansy piggy back rides to the place while Daphne followed on Theo. Blaise was holding Luna, who was so petite that he did it effortlessly while Draco was laughing and running with them. It warmed them up enough so that they weren't freezing.

"I have to go to the Loo." Draco told them after a while and he left. Hermione paid it no attention and continued on her butterbeer spiked with Firewhiskey; she wasn't sure how Blaise got it but he came to them with a bottle of it and they didn't complain.

"So, how have Slughorn's parties been?" Daphne asked her.

"They're not too bad." Hermione replied. "Mostly we just eat and talk. Slughorn offered to put me in contact with one of his ingredient providers for rare ingredients. I kiss up, and I ultimately benefit."

"The man's a slug." Blaise explained. "He latches onto the powerful and gives them favors in exchange for a good life."

"It sounds like a leech." Luna commented. Hermione sniggered.

"Can you image, Slughorn with a trail of slime behind him like a leech?"

They all had a good laugh.

"Hey guys." Draco said as he came back. Hermione noticed that he looked a little guilty, but didn't comment on it.

"Come on." Pansy said. "I want to get some sugar quills from Honeydukes."

They all stopped by the candy shop for some candy, and Hermione giggled as Pansy pulled out a set of 30 sugar quills. The girl used them nonstop.

That day in the evening Professor Snape stopped by the common room.

"A girl has been hurt by a cursed necklace: Gryffindor Katie Bell. I advise you all to be careful." with that frosty note he left.

The moment he was gone Hermione put up a Muffliato, a spell Professor Snape taught her, and rounded on Draco.

"What the hell did you do?" she demanded.

"I didn't -" he trailed off at her mutinous expression.

"I was getting impatient. We have yet to find the cabinet in the Room of Requirement that Abraham showed us and I wanted it over with. She was supposed to give it to Dumbledore."

"That's the problem!" Hermione fumed. "You can't rely on a second party for this or others will get hurt!"

"I know." he muttered.

"Let's just work on finding the cabinet." she sighed, sitting next to him and snuggling in by the fire. "By the way, you have to tell Theo."

Katie Bell was removed to St. Mungo's Hospital for Magical Maladies and Injuries the following day, by which time the news that she had been cursed had spread all over the school, though the details were confused and nobody knew what actually happened. Hermione, Draco, and Theo were the only one's to know that she was an unfortunate liability.

Hermione had Herbology first thing the following morning. As they walked across the vegetable patch toward the greenhouses, Hermione shivered. The weekend's brutal wind had died out at last; the weird mist had returned and it took them a little longer than usual to find the correct greenhouse.

"We need to find the cabinet." Theo muttered to her.

"I know." Hermione sighed.

"What if we used a broom?" Draco asked. We could fly until we find it and then clear a path to it."

Hermione stared at him. "Draco." she said slowly. "You're a genius."\

He looked smug.

"Why didn't I think of that?" Theo groaned.

"Cause you're stupid." Hermione teased. He gave a small scowl and slung his arm around her shoulder and Draco's before hauling them off. Hermione shoved him off in the greenhouse and went to partner with Daphne and Blaise, while Draco, Pansy, and Theo worked together.

When Professor Sprout told them to hurry up since Longbottom had his first pod already, they decided to get serious.

"Ready?" Hermione asked, as she eyed the gnarled Snarglepuff stump apprehensively.

"Go!" Daphne commanded.

It sprang to life at once; long, prickly, bramble-like vines flew out of the top and whipped through the air. One tangled itself in Hermione's hair, and Blaise beat it back with a pair of secateurs; Daphne succeeded in trapping a couple of vines and knotting them together; a hole opened in the middle of all the tentacle-like branches; Hermione plunged her arm bravely into this hole, which closed like a trap around her elbow; Blaise and Daphne tugged and wrenched at the vines, forcing the hole to open again, and Hermione snatched her arm free, clutching in her fingers a pod just like Longbottom's. At once, the prickly vines shot back inside, and the gnarled stump sat there looking like an innocently dead lump of wood.

Daphne moved to squeeze it out while Hermione and Blaise caught their breath.

"Effing Snarglepuffs." Blaise was grunting after the lesson. "Why the hell would someone want one in their garden?"

"Dean Thomas has replaced Katie Bell as chaser for Gryffindor." Pansy told them later that day. Hermione had stopped wondering how she got all this information and just taken it for granted.

The day before the first game of the season, Gryffindor v Slytherin, Hermione found Draco shoving around the Room of Requirement with the Vanishing Cabinet.

"I'm not going to play." he said hollowly, referring to the Quidditch Game.

"Yes you are." Hermione reprimanded fiercely.

"No I'm not." he argued. "I have to finish the cabinet."

"I don't care." she replied, pushing him down on a couch. "You have worked for hours on it and it's time you gave Theo a chance. He'll work on it during the game. You will go and take a break and enjoy yourself on that broom playing that godamn sport I hate even if I have to strap you to your broom."

Draco looked at her astonished before breaking into a small smile. "Thanks Hermione." he said, pulling her down with him and burying his face in her neck.

"Don't know what I'd do without you."

She giggled softly before hugging him back.

Soon it was time for the first game of the season. Practices had gone excellently and Hermione thought Slytherin had a good chance of winning. Breakfast was the usual excitable affair next morning; the Slytherins hissed and booed loudly as every member of the Gryffindor team entered the Great Hall. The sky was a pale, clear blue.

"Ready?" Draco asked the team in the locker room. Hermione walked out and took her seat.

The first thing Hermione heard was the noise of tumultous roars and boos. One end of the stadium was solid red and gold; the other, a sea of green and silver. Many Hufflepuffs and Ravenclaws had taken sides too: amidst all the yelling and clapping Hermione could easily see Luna's snake hat hissing at everyone in the vicinity.

"Captains shake hands," she said, and Draco and Potter did their best to crush each other's hands. "Mount your brooms. On the whistle... three... two... one..."

The whistle sounded, Draco and the team kicked off from the frozen ground, and the game started.

"Well, there they go, and I think we're all surprised to see the team that Potter's put together this year. Many thought, given Ronald Weasley's patchy performance as Keeper last year, that he might be off the team, but of course, a close personal friendship with the Captain does help..."

These words were greeted with jeers and applause from the Slytherin end of the pitch. Hermione craned her neck to see Zachary wearing a green Slytherin scarf on the microphone. She grinned.

"Oh, and here comes Slytherin's first attempt on goal, it's Greengrass streaking down the pitch and -"

"- Weasley saves it, well, he's bound to get lucky sometimes, I suppose..."

Hermione bit her nails as she watched Draco tail Potter. Both of them were doing stunts that had her heart racing.

With half an hour of the game gone, Gryffindor were leading sixty points to 50, Weasley having made some truly spectacular saves, some by the very tips of his gloves, and Ginny Weasley having scored four of Gryffindor's six goals. This effectively stopped Zacharias wondering loudly whether the two Weasleys were only there because Potter liked them, and he started on Peakes and Coote instead.

"Of course, Coote isn't really the usual build for a Beater," said Zacharias loftily, "they've generally got a bit more muscle -"

Hermione winced as Draco narrowly dodged a bludger and spun of course, barely righting himself. This was why she hated Quidditch.

It seemed as though Gryffindor could do no wrong. Again and again they scored, and again and again, at the other end of the pitch, Weasley saved goals with apparent ease. He was actually smiling now, and when the crowd greeted a particularly good save with a rousing chorus of the old favorite "Weasley Is Our King," he pretended to conduct them from on high.

Hermione scowled at him, but her conscience prevented her from cursing him. It was just a game after all.

"And I think Malfoy of Slytherin has seen the Snitch!" said Zacharias Smith through his megaphone. "Yes, he's certainly seen something Potter hasn't!"

Potter and Draco were now in a race for the snitch. Draco was ahead but Hermione knew that Potter might catch up. He was at the snitch, but then he fumbled and Potter snatched it.

As the crowd realized what had happened, a great shout went up that almost drowned the sound of the whistle that signaled the end of the game.

Ginny Weasley collided into Zacharias Smith, and Hermione scowled. That was unnecessary. Hermione groaned and booed with the crowd before going off to find Draco. He was alone in the locker room pulling his shirt on.

Hermione took a moment to admire his lean physique and muscles before he put his shirt on. She made a small noise, and he jumped around.

"Hermione!" he exclaimed in relief, giving her a small hug before ignoring her.

"What's wrong?" Hermione asked. She knew him well enough.

"Nothing." he muttered.

Draco could be so damn stubborn sometimes.

"What's wrong?" she asked again, sitting next to him. "You had the Snitch."

"Potter distracted me." he replied after a few moments." He insulted you, asked how much she was paying me to whore yourself out. I got angry."

Hermione took a few moments to seethe in anger. That bastard! She stewed before calming down.

"Next time get the snitch." she said. "I'll go hex Potter for this later."

"But he insulted you!" he argued.

"I know, so you can come with me." she promised.

That evening the two snuck out to the area near the Gryffindor Tower. They witnessed Potter sitting alone in a room grumbling about something. Hermione silently pointed her wand at him, and thought of the spell Professor Snape taught her. Levicorpus! She thought.

Potter was hoisted into the air by his ankle, and his robes flopped down.

"Expelliarmus!" Hermione muttered. His wand flew out of his hand. Still hidden, Hermione went forward, motioning for Draco to stay hidden.

"Hello Potter." she said sweetly, tapping her wand against her thigh.

"Granger." he grunted.

"This is for what you told Draco." she snarled suddenly. Disillusioning him, she levitated him to the Astronomy Tower and left him there, hanging, barely above the edge. A quick charm had his robes green and silver saying I'M AN IDIOT.

Hermione, satisfied with her work, left him there. They wouldn't find him until the next morning.

"You're brilliant." Draco grinned. She smirked and gave him a fierce kiss to which he responded, before they went to the common room.

The next day everyone knew that Potter was hanging off the Astronomy Tower. He had to be taken to the Hospital Wing to recover, and would be out of classes for a day at least. In Potions, Hermione was called to Dumbledore's.

She took the hike up to his office and said the password (Sherbert Lemon) before finding herself in his office. It was large and many silver trinkets were in his shelves. She took a seat in front of Dumbledore, and Potter joined them a few moments later.

"Headmaster." she said politely. "Potter." she said not so politely. "May I inquire as to why I'm here?"

"You're here because Harry has accused you, Miss Granger, of being the perpetrator who hung him off the tower." he said in his old voice.

Damn. She knew she forgot something, but this was big. Time to talk her way out of it.

"I'm afraid that I had nothing to do with this. I was with my boyfriend Draco the entire time."

"I saw you!" Potter said furiously, his green eyes flashing. She gave him an annoyed look.

"Miss Granger, we need more solid evidence. Just the word of Mr Malfoy will not be enough. This is a prank that could get you expelled."

"I assure you," she gave a short laugh, "No matter how much I loathe Potter I had nothing to do with it. Besides, you can't expel me."

"And why not?" Dumbledore asked.

"Because you were unable to expel the people who attacked me in my first year." she said matter-of-factly. "Veritaserum can't be given to minors without express permission of the Ministry."

He gave her a flashing look with his eyes, and Hermione felt a slight Legilimency Probe. She snapped down on it before twisting it around and sending it back, hopefully causing extreme pain. By the anger in his eyes, she had.

"Miss Granger, Harry has said that it was you and that the spell used was one that was nonverbal."

"Then how does he know which spell?" she challenged.

"I read it in a book." he replied.

"Which one?" she asked. He hesitated, and that was all Hermione needed.

"See. If he can't show the book then it's obvious he's lying."

"Miss Granger, Harry is a trusted student."

"Because he's a Gryffindor?" she replied in a bored tone.

He gave her a disapproving look and she glared right back.

"You may go.'' he said.

Hermione gave a small, fake smile and walked out before running off. She had won, but she would have to be more careful. Dumbledore would be wary of her now.

Chapter Text

Snow was swirling against the icy windows once more; Christmas was approaching fast. Hagrid had already singlehandedly delivered the usual twelve Christmas trees to the Great Hall; garlands of holly and tinsel had been twisted around the banisters of the stairs; everlasting candles glowed from inside the helmets of suits of armor and great bunches of mistletoe had been hung at intervals along the corridors. The SM was flowing along beautifully and Hermione felt that at the rate her duelling class was filling up the next generation would have a dozen Bellatrix Lestranges.

Slughorn's Christmas Party was coming up and Hermione couldn't wait. Again Draco had wanted to work on the cabinet but Hermione talked him into taking a break and letting Theo do it. Blaise was taking Luna of course, and Hermione was with Draco.

The Cabinet was going along beautifully. It could now vanish to the other side, but would not return whole. Hermione was still testing on apples.

Transfiguration went easily a few days later. Hermione turned her eyebrows green, and Draco turned his silver. Blaise chose a light blonde. Peeves spread the news that day that Potter had asked Ginny Weasley to Slughorn's party, and Theo had laughed.

"Like father like son. James Potter also chose a redhead."

That evening Hermione and Luna got ready for the party together. Hermione wore a strapless blood red dress that ended three inches above her knees with red lace embroidery on the skirt. It had Draco staring at her and giving her a particularly nice kiss which she very much enjoyed. Her hair was twisted around to the back with most of it loose, and green ribbon was braided through her hair. Her makeup was a light silver eyeshadow and blood red lips. She wore high and shiny blood red stilettos

Luna matched her completely, but her dress and shoes were silver. Her ribbon was red, and her makeup was a light red.

"You look amazing." Draco said hoarsely. She smirked and his hand on her waist tightened a little.

"You too." she murmured.

"Where's the party again?" he asked.

"Slughorn's office." she replied.

They were already approaching Slughorn's office and the sounds of laughter, music, and loud conversation were growing louder with every step they took.

Whether it had been built that way, or because he had used magical trickery to make it so, Slughorn's office was much larger than the usual teacher's study. The ceiling and walls had been draped with emerald, crimson and gold hangings, so that it looked as though they were all inside a vast tent. The room was crowded and stuffy and bathed in the red light cast by an ornate golden lamp dangling from the center of the ceiling in which real fairies were fluttering, each a brilliant speck of light. Loud singing accompanied by what sounded like mandolins issued from a distant corner; a haze of pipe smoke hung over several elderly warlocks deep in conversation, and a number of house-elves were negotiating their way squeakily through the forest of knees, obscured by the heavy silver platters of food they were bearing, so that they looked like little roving tables.

"Miss Granger!" Slughorn boomed. "Come, meet the man who provides Potions Ingredients."

Hermione followed eagerly with Draco; this was an excellent opportunity.

"Hermione, I'd like you to meet Sophia and Alex Blue."

Hermione smiled and shook hands with the couple. They were Chinese from the looks of it, and shrewd.

"What interest do you have in providing me potion ingredients?" Hermione asked.

"Quick to the point." Sophia said. Her voice was throaty. "I see what you mean Horace, she's different."

"We run an animal sanctuary. There we have unicorns, jabberknolls, even basilisks. It's based in China, and with all these animals we can easily acquired ingredients from them, making our prices low."

"Would I be able to receive the ingredients by Owl Order?" Hermione asked

"Easily." Sophia replied. "And a discount since you're Horace's. He's the one who got us in touch with the contacts to start our sanctuary."

"Any time my dear." Slughorn said. The couple wandered off.

"Thank you Professor!" Hermione exclaimed.

"This is an amazing opportunity." she gushed to Draco once they were out of earshot.

"I know." he replied. "And I'm happy for you, but that dress is making me really sweaty so let's get a drink."

The party was wonderful. Hermione couldn't remember all of it but she knew that she and Draco had talked and ate and laughed and she woke up in his bed nearly drunk while he was shirtless, though it hadn't progressed further. He had a very nice body.

Soon Hermione was going home for Christmas with Theo and Draco. The Death Eaters were still there but mostly kept out of the way. Hermione had continued training with Bella but Bella was teaching her how to fight with runes. Hermione blew up two of the rooms in Malfoy Manor before Narcissa created unbreakable wards around one and shoved them in there. Hermione had basked in the explosions.

Fire, fear, noise, it was wonderful. The Christmas Party came and Hermione was eating with everyone. She wore her black corsetted dress like Bellatrix, but had woven green ribbons into her hair. She had added a new charm to her bracelet from Draco: a staff with two snakes woven around it, also called the staff of Hermes. It represented Healing.

"May I ask how the task given to you is going?" The Dark Lord asked.

Theo shot them a look before speaking.

"We have found a Vanishing Cabinet in Hogwarts itself. It's sister lies in Borgin and Burkes. We have commanded the owner of the the store to fix the cabinet while we repair it on our end. Currently it goes, but does not come back whole."

"You have made excellent progress." he said.

Soon break was over and Hermione was back at Hogwarts with her friends. She and Pansy and Daphne had decided to mess around with Blaise while he was asleep, and he woke up with long hair and lipstick, much to their amusement.

Hermione had taken a picture with her new magical camera, courtesy of Theo, and put it in her new handmade album, courtesy of Luna. It was decorated by hand by the girl and was beautiful.

The new term started next morning with a pleasant surprise for the sixth-years: a large sign had been pinned to the common room notice boards overnight.

APPARITION LESSONS

If you are seventeen years of age, or will turn seventeen on or before the 31st August next, you ar eligible for a twelve-week course of Apparition Lessons from a Ministry of Magic Apparition instructor.

Please sign below if you would like to participate.

Cost: 12 Galleons.

"Gonna sign up?" Daphne asked as she wrote her name.

"Obviously." Hermione grinned, scribbling her name on.

"Soon we'll be able to pop everywhere." Draco gushed that night. He was eager for the lessons to begin. Draco was not the only one to be excited at the prospect of Apparition. All that day there was much talk about the forthcoming lessons; a great deal of store was set by being able to vanish and reappear at will.

Tracy Davis nearly messed up her water charm and soaked herself when talking to Zachary about the apparition. He had laughed and dried her before doing the same to himself.

Potions was going on again, and Hermione was participating. She had went to Professor Slughorn and convinced him to let her work on her Mastery in class. Today was one of the days where she participated because it involved creative potion making.

"Settle down, settle down, please! Quickly, now, lots of work to get through this afternoon! Golpalott's Third Law ... who can tell me-? But Miss Granger can, of course!"

Hermione recited quickly since no one else knew the answer: "Golpalott's-Third-Law-states-that-the-antidote-for-a-blended-poison-will-be-equal-to-more-than-the-sum-of-the-antidotes-for-each-of-the-separate-components."

"Precisely!" beamed Slughorn. "Ten points for Slytherin! Now, if we accept Golpalott's Third Law as true..."

"... which means, of course, that assuming we have achieved correct identification of the potion's ingredients by Scarpin's Revelaspell, our primary aim is not the relatively simple one of selecting antidotes to those ingredients in and of themselves, but to find that added component which will, by an almost alchemical process, transform these disparate elements-"

"... and so," finished Slughorn, "I want each of you to come and take one of these phials from my desk. You are to create an antidote for the poison within it before the end of the lesson. Good luck, and don't forget your protective gloves!"

Hermione was already at the Potions cupboard. She had talked about this with Professor Snape, but never got a chance to test it. It involved taking the properties of a bezoar and mixing them into a potion. She dissolved the bezoar in, and stabilized it while stirring with Dragon Saliva, personally transported by the Blue Family from their sanctuary. It bubbled down to a plain white with no color like milk. Hermione grinned proudly.

If she was right it would stop all poisons, like a bezoar, but multiplied thanks to the Rosemary.

"Time's ... UP!" called Slughorn genially. "Well, let's see how you've done! Blaise ... what have you got for me?"

Slowly, Slughorn moved around the room, examining the various antidotes. Nobody had finished the task but Hermione, and that was because her potion was short and simple.

"Miss Granger!" Professor Slughorn exclaimed. "What do you have for me?"

"Bezoar Potion." Hermione said. "I just invented it, but I talked about it in theory and detail with Professor Snape last year, though we never got time to brew it. It involves dissolving a bezoar in the potion and stabilizing it, giving it the properties of the bezoar, but multiplied. It will stop any poison."

"This is ingenious Miss Granger!" he boomed. "20 points to Slytherin, and I suggest you make this a Potion part of your Mastery."

Hermione grinned. Finally she had won. Draco flashed her a large thumbs up.

Slughorn had moved on to the Gryffindor/Hufflepuff Table.

"And you, Harry," he said. "What have you got to show me?"

Potter held out his hand. Hermione glimpsed a bezoar in there, and she stewed. That was her idea!

Slughorn looked down at it for a full ten seconds. Then he threw back his head and roared with laughter.

"You've got a nerve, boy!" he boomed, taking the bezoar and holding it up so that the class could see it. "Oh, you're like your mother ... well, I can't fault you ... a bezoar would certainly act as an antidote to all these potions! Miss Granger and Harry both understand, though she brewed a potion."

"That's the individual spirit a real potion-maker needs!" said Slughorn happily, before Harry could reply. "Just like his mother, she had the same intuitive grasp of potion-making, it's undoubtedly from Lily he gets it ... yes, Harry, yes, if you've got a bezoar to hand, of course that would do the trick ... although as they don't work on everything, and are pretty rare, it's still worth knowing how to mix antidotes ..."

The only person in the room looking angrier than Hermione was Malfoy, who, Harry was pleased to see, had spilled something that looked like cat sick over himself. Before either of them could express their fury that Harry had come top of the class by not doing any work, however, the bell rang.

"Time to pack up!" said Slughorn. "And an extra ten points to Gryffindor for sheer cheek!"

Still chuckling, he waddled back to his desk at the front of the dungeon. Hermione grinned. She still won. Hermione continued to work on her Mind Draught, as she called it, though she had the required three potions including the Bezoar Potion to become the youngest Master in history. Her potion was going well, but she was finding it hard to stabilize. Once she did the potion would be complete.

The snow melted around the school as February arrived, to be replaced by cold, dreary wetness. Purplish-grey clouds hung low over the castle and a constant fall of chilly rain made the lawns slippery and muddy. The upshot of this was that the sixth-years' first Apparition lesson, which was scheduled for a Saturday morning so that no normal lessons would be missed, took place in the Great Hall instead of in the grounds.

When Hermione, Draco, Pansy, Daphne, Theo, Vince, Greg, Zach, Tracy, and Milli arrived in the Great Hall, they found that the tables had disappeared. Rain lashed against the high windows and the enchanted ceiling swirled darkly above them as they assembled in front of Professors McGonagall, Snape, Flitwick and Sprout-the Heads of House-and a small wizard whom Hermione took to be the Apparition Instructor from the Ministry. He was oddly colourless, with transparent eyelashes, wispy hair and an insubstantial air, as though a single gust of wind might blow him away.

"Good morning," said the Ministry wizard, when all the students had arrived and the Heads of House had called for quiet. "My name is Wilkie Twycross and I shall be your Ministry-Apparition Instructor for the next twelve weeks. I hope to be able to prepare you for your Apparition test in this time-"

"Malfoy, be quiet and pay attention!" barked Professor McGonagall. Hermione rolled her eyes and he stopped talking to Vince.

"-by which time, many of you may be ready to take your test," Twycross continued, as though there had been no interruption.

"As you may know, it is usually impossible to Apparate or Disapparate within Hogwarts. The Headmaster has lifted this enchantment, purely within the Great Hall, for one hour, so as to enable you to practise. May I emphasise that you will not be able to Apparate outside the walls of this Hall, and that you would be unwise to try."

Hermione wished she had known this before. The Death Eaters could have apparated in, but they would not have been able to do it in secret.

"I would like each of you to place yourselves now so that you have a clear five feet of space in front of you."

There was a great scrambling and jostling as people separated, banged into each other, and ordered others out of their space. The Heads of House moved among the students, marshalling them into position and breaking up arguments.

Hermione took a position next to Draco and Daphne. Blaise was in front of her, Theo behind her, Pansy next to Blaise, and Zachary, Tracy, and Milli behind them all. Slytherins stuck together.

At that precise moment the four Heads of House shouted, "Quiet!" and silence fell again.

"Thank you," said Twycross. "Now then..."

He waved his wand. Old-fashioned wooden hoops instantly appeared on the floor in from of every student.

"The important things to remember when Apparating are the three Ds!" said Twycross. "Destination, Determination, Deliberation!

"Step one: fix your mind firmly upon the desired destination," said Twycross. "In this case, the interior of your hoop. Kindly concentrate upon that destination now."

Everybody looked around furtively, to check that everyone else was staring into their hoop, then hastily did as they were told. Hermione gazed at the circular patch of dusty floor enclosed by her hoop and tried hard to think of nothing else.

She resorted to her Occlumency Training to calm her mind. It didn't work. Ankaa, her animagus, was yearning to be free and wanted to fly since she hadn't flown in nearly a month, which distracted Hermione.

"Step two," said Twycross, "focus your determination to occupy the visualised space! Let your yearning to enter it flood from your mind to every particle of your body!"

Hermione glanced around. Across the hall, Ernie Macmillan was contemplating his hoop so hard that his face had turned pink; it looked as though he was straining to lay a Quaffle-sized egg.

"Step three," called Twycross, "and only when I give the command ... turn on the spot, feeling your way into nothingness, moving with deliberation. On my command, now ... one-"

Hermione glanced around again; lots of people were looking positively alarmed at being asked to Apparate so quickly. She thought it was too quickly too.

"-two-"

"-THREE!"

Hermione spun on the spot, nearly fell over, and was only saved by Greg, who had managed to keep his balance and rush over to help her. She was not the only one to nearly fall. The whole Hall was suddenly full of staggering people; Longbottom was flat on his back; Ernie Macmillan, on the other hand, had done a kind of pirouetting leap into his hoop and looked momentarily thrilled, until he caught sight of Dean Thomas roaring with laughter at him.

"Never mind, never mind," said Twycross dryly, who did not seem to have expected anything better. "Adjust your hoops, please, and back to your original positions ..."

The second attempt was no better than the first. The third was just as bad. Not until the fourth did anything exciting happen. There was a horrible screech of pain and everybody looked around, terrified, to see Susan Bones of Hufflepuff wobbling in her hoop with her left leg still standing five feet away where she had started.

The Heads of House converged on her; there was a great bang and a puff of purple smoke, which cleared to reveal Susan sobbing, reunited with her leg but looking horrified.

"Splinching, or the separation of random body parts," said Wilkie Twycross dispassionately, "occurs when the mind is insufficiently determined. You must concentrate continually upon your destination, and move, without haste, but with deliberation ... thus."

Twycross stepped forwards, turned gracefully on the spot with his arms outstretched and vanished in a swirl of robes, reappearing at the back of the Hall. 'Remember the three Ds,' he said, "and try again ... one-two-three-"

But an hour later, Susan's Splinching was still the most interesting thing that had happened. Twycross did not seem discouraged. Fastening his cloak at his neck, he merely said, "Until next Saturday, everybody, and do not forget: Destination. Determination. Deliberation."

With that, he waved his wand, Vanishing the hoops, and walked out of the Hall accompanied by Professor McGonagall. Talk broke out at once as people began moving towards the Entrance Hall.

"He's a horrible teacher." Pansy said in disgust.

"Well how else will we learn?" Hermione reasoned.

"He ought to teach us how to concentrate on our destination." Pansy pointed out.

"That's just Occlumency Training." Hermione said dismissively.

"Then why couldn't you do it?"

"Ankaa wanted to fly. I'll have to go this evening."

That evening Hermione snuck up to the Astronomy Tower and looked down on the ground hundreds of feet below her. The door opened.

"Miss Granger, what are you-" McGonagall started.

Hermione didn't hear the rest. She jumped off head first in a swimmer's dive, and when she was inches from the ground she transformed, skimming the grass with her wing. She let out a glorious trill. She had missed flying! Spinning around she shot up, hovering at the window where McGonagall was staring at her in shock. She let out a small laugh before soaring away.

Hermione flew across the forest, feeling the cool air on her feathers. She dove and flew up, performing lots of stunning tricks. She had missed this.

When she came back nearly an hour later McGonagall was still there. Hermione transformed on the windowsill.

"Hello Professor." she said.

"Miss Granger." she spluttered, before regaining her composure. "How long have you been an animagus?"

"4th year." Hermione said. "I'm unregistered."

"Miss Granger, what you have done is uncanny! I had three students a good decade ago who tried, but even they couldn't transform until 6th year!"

"You won't report me, will you?" Hermione asked. She needed to know, or she would have to somehow register.

"No I won't." she replied. Hermione did her best not to gape. "This is an amazing act of Transfiguration. 50 points to Slytherin. Who taught you?"

"I studied with Professor Snape." Hermione replied.

"I shall have to congratulate him. Now to your common room, and if anyone asks you have my permission."

Hermione walked back stunned at the turn of events, but she couldn't be too surprised. McGonagall was one of the fairer teachers, and most of her bias was unconscious. She supposed that she was lucky she wasn't caught by Dumbledore or Filch.

Apparition lessons continued. Three lessons on, Apparition was proving as difficult as ever, though a few more people had managed to Splinch themselves. Frustration was running high and there was a certain amount of ill-feeling towards Wilkie Twycross and his three Ds, which had inspired a number of nicknames for him, the politest of which were Dog-breath and Dung-head.

A few days later, Ron Weasley was poisoned. Hermione stormed to the Common Room and dragged both Draco and Theo out by their ears when she found out.

"What the bloody hell did you two do now?" she snapped.

"I'm innocent." Theo replied. Draco looked down. She sighed.

"Draco, you weren't getting impatient again?"

He looked at her guiltily. Theo backed out of the room.

"Remember what I told you about rushing?" she sighed.

"I know!" he exploded. She stepped back slightly. "I know I shouldn't have but I don't have your patience Hermione! I just want to finish. We're not all prefect!"

Hermione stared at him. She had no friends and this felt like elementary all over again even though she knew it was irrational. They would never leave her but she sat on a couch.

"Do you really think that?" she whispered, a haunted look on her face.

"No." he calmed down. "I'm just under a lot of pressure."

He sat with her and enveloped her in a warm hug. Hermione leaned into him and inhaled the familiar peppermint scent.

The news that Weasley had been poisoned spread quickly next day, but it did not cause the sensation that Bell's attack had done. People seemed to think that it might have been an accident, given that he had been in the Potions master's room at the time, and that as he had been given an antidote immediately there was no real harm done. The Gryffindors were wishing that they had been able to play Slytherin again because one of the Slytherin chasers had been transferred out due to family issues. Zachary took the remaining spot, and the Gryffindors had grudge against him for his commentary in the match.

Hermione's work on balancing her mind potion was progressing, but it was a slow and tedious process. The mind was a tricky thing, and the information and memories in it even trickier.

The next Quidditch Game was coming up, and Pansy dragged her there with a devilish glint in her eye. Hermione wondered what the hell was going on.

"And that's MacMillan of Hufflepuff with the Quaffle," said a dreamy voice, echoing over the grounds. "He;s quite a rude boy-oh, look, he's lost the Quaffle, Ginny took it from him, She's not a very nice person to me anymore"

Hermione started laughing. Luna. Dear dear quirky Luna Lovegood with her bottlecap necklace and her radish earrings, her blond hair straggling. Slightly insane Luna who developed spells of the top of her head and uses so many illusions no one ever knew where she actually was in Hide-and -Seek.

"... but now that big Hufflepuff player's got the Quaffle from her, I can't remember his name, it's something like Bibble-no, Buggins -"

"It's Cadwallader!" said Professor McGonagall loudly from beside Luna. The crowd laughed.

. Moments later, Cadwallader scored. McLaggen had been shouting criticism at Ginny Weasley, who Hermione decided to call Ginny so she didn't mix it up with the Weasel King, for allowing the Quaffle out of her possession, with the result that he had not noticed the large red ball soaring past his right ear.

"And Harry Potter's now having an argument with his Keeper," said Luna serenely, while both Hufflepuffs and Slytherins below in the crowd cheered and jeered. "I don't think that'll help him find the Snitch, but maybe it's a clever ruse..."

Ginny Weasley and Demelza Robins scored a goal apiece, giving the red-and-gold-clad supporters below something to cheer about. Then Cadwallader scored again, making things level, but Luna did not seem to have noticed; she appeared singularly uninterested in such mundane things as the score, and kept attempting to draw the crowd's attention to such things as interestingly shaped clouds and the possibility that Ernie MacMillan, who had so far failed to maintain possession of the Quaffle for longer than a minute, was suffering from something called "Loser's Lurgy."

"Seventy-forty to Hufflepuff!" barked Professor McGonagall into Luna's megaphone.

"Is it, already?" said Luna vaguely. "Oh, look! The Gryffindor Keeper's got hold of one of the Beater's bats."

Hermione spun around, still laughing. Sure enough, McLaggen, for reasons best known to himself, had pulled Peakes's bat from him and appeared to be demonstrating how to hit a Bludger toward an oncoming Cadwallader.

Potter pelted towards McLaggen just as he hit. He failed, and the bat hit Potter straight in the face. Gryffindor lost. Hermione laughed. Luna commented serenely about how an overhead cloud looked like a radish.

Chapter Text

Hermione was getting ready for her Apparition Test. She had apparated around the 7th lesson and found herself perfectly fine. Patches of bright blue sky were beginning to appear over the castle turrets, but these signs of approaching summer only helped in lifting Hermione's mood: the Vanishing Cabinet was nearly done.

They were sitting together in a sunny corner of the courtyard after lunch. Hermione, Draco, and Blaise were all clutching a Ministry of Magic leaflet, 'Common Apparition Mistakes and How to Avoid Them', for they were taking their tests that very afternoon, but by and large the leaflets had not proved soothing to the nerves.

"Look at this." Daphne said hollowly, giving them a newspaper. "The Montgomery sisters, their little brother was killed by Fenrir Greyback."

Hermione felt sick. Such a young boy dead because of that monster. She felt bile rise to her throat and she swallowed it. She had no problem with grown wizards or witches dying but young children should be kept innocent in her opinion.

"That's horrible." Pansy said slowly.

"He's a monster." Theo said simply.

"His goal is to bite children young and raise them to be brutal and bloodthirsty." Hermione said with a hollow voice, remembering the book she read.

Apparition went well. Hermione, Draco, and Blaise easily passed. Hermione now had her own apparition license and couldn't wait to use it.

"You do realize what this means?" Hermione asked them after the test with a large smile.

"What?" Draco asked. Hermione gave him a fond smile.

"It means that Hogsmeade does not have wards against Apparition. We could go visit family."

The next charms lesson was a spell to turn any liquid into another. Seamus Finnigan concentrated himself on turning his water into rum. Hermione turned her vinegar into elf wine, while Blaise went to turn Butterbeer into Firewhiskey.

Katie Bell had come back from St. Mungo's that day, but she remembered nothing. Draco was silent, plagued with anxiety over her telling, but she knew nothing, to his relief.

Hermione's Felix Felicis was done. She had brewed enough for all of the SM to have an entire vial. Six months of work had not gone to waste, and even though she was nearly done with her Mind Potion, she had the Bezoar Draught to take to the Potions Conference.

Interest in the Gryffindor-Ravenclaw game was running extremely high throughout the school, for the match would decide the Championship, which was still wide open. If Gryffindor beat Ravenclaw by a margin of three hundred points (a tall order) then they would win the Championship. If they won by less than three hundred points, they would come second to Slytherin; if they lost by a hundred points they would be third behind Hufflepuff and if they lost by more than a hundred, they would be in fourth place.

The run-up to this crucial match had all the usual features: members of rival Houses attempting to intimidate opposing teams in the corridors; unpleasant chants about individual players being rehearsed loudly as they passed; the team members themselves either swaggering around enjoying all the attention or else dashing into bathrooms between classes to throw up. Hermione just enjoyed life while she could; she knew that the moment she stepped out of Hogwarts her life would turn dark.

"Hermione!" Chastity called her as she sat in the Common Room teaching some kids Duelling.

"Yes?" she asked, taking a small break to watch them freeze oranges using a dark spell.

"Draco was hurt." she said breathlessly.

That was all Hermione needed to hear. She rushed down the hall to the Hospital Wing, barely noticing as she knocked down other students; her mind was concentrated solely on Draco. She burst through the hospital wing to see Draco sitting on a bed with bandages wrapped around his bare chest, Professor Snape next to him.

"Who did this?" Hermione whispered. Her mind was plagued with the possibilities.

"Potter." Draco spit, his voice a little weak. "In Moaning Myrtle's loo."

Hermione immediately tried storming out before Professor Snape grabbed her wrist. She whirled around, but before she could say anything he snatched her wand.

"Professor!" Hermione protested.

"I don't want you killing Mr Potter and going to Azkaban, Miss Granger." he sighed.

She glared before storming off. She opened the bathroom to see the carnage. The floor was strewn with broken glass from the mirror and most of the toilets had exploded. The entire place was flooded and Hermione saw signs of blood on the floor. In the middle of it all Potter was standing there clutching his wand.

Hermione felt incredible fury.

How dare he?

HOW DARE HE?

She stalked forward and slapped him. She wasn't completely sure what she was doing but she was so angry that it was clouding her judgement.

"How dare you?" she snarled in a low voice. "What the hell did he ever do to you? You could have killed him!"

"He tried killing me first!" Potter yelped. "He tried the Cruciatus! I heard him, he said 'Cruc'!"

"If he did you weren't affected." she said dismissively. "And I can think of 6 spells off the top of my head that begin with 'Cruc'."

"He's a Death Eater." Potter replied. "He's evil!"

"For fuck's sake Potter, the world isn't in black and white!" Hermione screamed. Making a split second decision she yanked the charm off her bracelet and showed it to him. It was back in it's natural form.

He stared at her in horror. "But- you- you're a muggleborn!"

"Yes I am! And they still accept me! They've always accepted me! Treated me like a friend or a daughter! It's your so called light side that doesn't!"

"You'll never have a future with him!" Potter said after a while. Hermione turned around slowly. "You'll never actually be one of them."

Hermione felt more fury bubble up in her. Who was he to decide?

"Yet I've already been promised to him by pureblood customs."

And on that parting note she stalked off. She spent the rest of the day at Draco's bedside while he healed.

"What's his punishment?" Hermione asked Professor Snape when he entered.

"Detention." he replied.

"WHAT?" she shrieked. Professor Snape snapped up a silencing charm. "He damn nearly killed a student!"

Professor Snape gave her a small sad look before leaving. Hermione fell asleep at Draco's bedside. He was left with a thin white scar spanning his entire chest from shoulder to waist.

"I'm ugly now." he whispered when he saw it.

"Never." Hermione promised, giving him a light kiss full of love.

That evening they went back to the Room of Requirement to finish up the cabinet. Hermione had found the perfect spell to fix it completely, and they were going to do just that. Hermione looked around, in awe of the room as always.

She was standing in a room the size of a large cathedral, whose high windows were sending shafts of light down upon what looked like a city with towering walls, built of what Hermione knew must be objects hidden by generations of Hogwarts inhabitants. There were alleyways and roads bordered by tetering piles of broken and damaged furniture, stowed away, perhaps, to hide the evidence of mishandled magic, or else hidden by castle-proud house-elves. There were thousands and thousands of books, no doubt banned or graffitied or stolen. There were winged catapults and Fanged Frisbees, some still with enough life in them to hover half-heartedly over the mountains of other forbidden items; there were chipped bottles of congealed potions, hats, jewels, cloaks; there were what looked like dragon eggshells, corked bottles whose contents still shimmered evilly, several rusting swords, and a heavy, bloodstained axe.

They scurried to the Vanishing Cabinet and Hermione used her spell.

"Reficere et renovare!" she chanted, and the cabinet glowed.

"Ready?" Theo asked.

"Ready." Draco said grimly, before conjuring a small bird and stuffing it in the cabinet. It came back whole.

"Yes!" Hermione cheered, giving them both a hug.

"When do we bring them in?" Theo asked.

"First I need to distribute my Liquid Luck to everyone. Hopefully with it's help no one will be killed." Hermione said.

The next morning they found out that word of what Potter had done to Draco had spread through the castle. The news had traveled very fast: apparently Moaning Myrtle had taken it upon herself to pop up in every bathroom in the castle to tell the story; Draco had already been visited in the hospital wing by Pansy, who had lost no time in vilifying Potter far and wide, and Snape had told the staff precisely what had happened.

Potter wasn't even playing in the Quidditch match that week and Slytherin was rejoicing for that. Slytherin's Magic was progressing beautifully, and now everyone carried special kits Hermione, Adelaide, Blaise, and Quincy had made.

The Kits consisted of: Bezoar Draught, one vial of Liquid Luck, Blood Replenishing Potion, Skelegrow, Murtlap Essence, Bruise Paste, and a few other supplies along with some special battle runes Hermione made with Zach.

Gryffindor won the Quidditch Match, much to their disappointment. Ginny Weasley and Harry Potter had also gotten together much to their amusement. Slytherin still won the House Cup.

Exams were approaching. Hermione had gone on another studying spree and was using notes passed down by other 6th years through Slytherin. Chastity, Astoria, and Luna were preparing for their OWLS. Luna wanted only to go in Charms, Transfiguration, Herbology, Divination, and COMC. Those would all breed her illusions, of which she could make a living.

The exams were soon over. Hermione thought she had done well on all of them, but was more concerned with what was to come.

"Ready?" Hermione asked Theo and Draco. They stood in the Room of Requirement, facing the Vanishing Cabinet. Hermione had put on her black corset dress. Blaise, Pansy, Daphne, Chastity, Quincy, Astoria, Adelaide, and Gemma were right now getting all of Slytherin, Luna, and Zachary to drink their Liquid Luck so no one died that evening. Hermione had already taken one of her one with Blaise and Theo.

"You sure Dumbledore left?" Draco asked in confirmation.

"Yup." Theo nodded. "He left with Potter. We'll need to watch the common rooms just in case."

"They've gathered at Borgin and Burkes?" Hermione asked.

"He sent me a letter." Theo replied.

"And Luna's distracting illusions are set up?" Hermione asked again.

"Astoria helped in some of them but yes." Draco confirmed.

"Then we're ready." Hermione said.

A silence filled the room. This was it. The moment they had worked for the entire year. Death Eaters in Hogwarts. Hermione let out a breath she hadn't known she was holding. She pulled out her wand. It was agreed that she would do the spell.

" Harmonia Nectere Passus" she chanted.

The cabinet slowly creaked open, and Bellatrix Lestrange stepped out, her hair wild and curly, a maniacal look in her eye.

"Mudblood!" she exclaimed, though it was fondly. Hermione gave her a small embrace.

She resisted the urge to scowl as Fenrir Greyback stepped out. He would die, she would make sure of it. He was an ugly brute with bright blue eyes and shaggy black hair. He was a monster.

Hermione allowed herself a dark grin. Death Eaters were in Hogwarts. Dumbledore would die tonight. Hermione couldn't wait.

They scurried down the hall. Draco stopped them for a second and doused the hall in Peruvian Instant Darkness Powder from Weasley's Wizarding Wheezes. With the Hand of Glory they bought he led them all down the hall.

They went up to the Headmaster's office and Theo put up some wards so they would have privacy. Before they could do more the Order of the Phoenix attacked.

"GO!" Bellatrix shrieked as she duelled a woman with pink hair. Hermione, Draco, and Theo scurried up the stairs. Draco went first, and knocked the door open.

He erupted through it and shouted: "Expelliarmus!"

Hermione Dumbledore's wand flying in an arc over the edge of the ramparts and grinned. Before they could do more she shot up a Dark Mark with her charm bracelet.

Standing against the ramparts, very white in the face, Dumbledore still showed no sign of panic or distress. He merely looked across at his disarmer and said, "Good evening, Draco. And Hermione and young Theo."

Draco stepped forwards, glancing around quickly to check that they were alone. His eyes fell upon the second broom.

"Who else is here?" Hermione asked.

"A question I might ask you. Or are you acting alone?"

"Of Course not." Draco sneered. "I've got back-up. There are Death Eaters here in your school tonight."

"Well, well," said Dumbledore, as though Draco was showing him an ambitious homework project. "Very good indeed. You found a way to let them in, did you?"

"Yeah," said Theo smirked. "Right under your nose and you never realised!"

"Ingenious," said Dumbledore. "Yet ... forgive me ... where are they now? You seem unsupported."

"They met some of your guard. They're having a fight down below. They won't be long ... I came on ahead. I-I've got a job to do."

"Before you kill me do tell me how did Death Eaters get in?"

"Vanishing Cabinets." Hermione said, stepping forward.

"Aaaah."

Dumbledore's sigh was half a groan. He closed his eyes for a moment.

"That was clever ... there is a pair, I take it?"

There was a yell from below. Hermione rolled her eyes and shot a random curse down the stairs for fun.

"The other's in Borgin and Burkes," said Draco, "and they make a kind of passage between them. Montague told me that when he was stuck in the Hogwarts one, he was trapped in limbo but sometimes he could hear what was going on at school, and sometimes what was going on in the shop, as if the Cabinet was travelling between them, but he couldn't make anyone hear him ... in the end he managed to Apparate out, even though he'd never passed his test. He nearly died doing it. Everyone thought it was a really good story, but I was the only one who realised what it meant-even Borgin didn't know. I was the one who realised there could be a way into Hogwarts through the Cabinets if I fixed the broken one. Hermione and Theo helped me."

"Very good," murmured Dumbledore. "So the Death Eaters were able to pass from Borgin and Burkes into the school to help you ... a clever plan, a very clever plan ... and, as you say, right under my nose ..."

There was a bang and shouts from below, louder than ever; it sounded as though people were fighting on the actual spiral staircase that led to where Dumbledore, Draco, Hermione, and Theo stood.

"Now let us discuss your options." Dumbledore said.

"Options?" Hermione sneered. "We all did this of free will. The world will be better without you."

"Come Hermione, you are not a killer."

Hermione sneered. "Yet Kingsley Shacklebolt found himself dead didn't he?"

Dumbledore paled. "You killed him?"

But suddenly footsteps were thundering up the stairs and a second later the Death Eaters came buffeting in.

A lumpy-looking man with an odd lopsided leer gave a wheezy giggle.

"Dumbledore cornered!" he said, and he turned to a stocky little woman who looked as though she could be his sister and who was grinning eagerly. "Dumbledore wandless, Dumbledore alone! Well done, Draco, well done!"

Hermione groaned. Why those two? She hated them!

"Good evening, Amycus," said Dumbledore calmly, as though welcoming the man to a tea party. "And you've brought Alecto too ... charming ..."

The woman gave an angry little titter.

"Think your little jokes'll help you on your death bed, then?" she jeered.

"Jokes? No, no, these are manners," replied Dumbledore.

"Do it," said Fenrir Greyback. Hermione held her wand tightly.

"Is that you, Fenrir?" asked Dumbledore.

"That's right," rasped the other. "Pleased to see me, Dumbledore?"

"No, I cannot say that I am ..."

Fenrir Greyback grinned, showing pointed teeth. Blood trickled down his chin and he licked his lips slowly, obscenely.

"But you know how much I like kids, Dumbledore."

Hermione suppressed a shudder. She would kill him; she had to.

"Am I to take it that you are attacking even without the full moon now? This is most unusual ... you have developed a taste for human flesh that cannot be satisfied once a month?"

"That's right," said Greyback. "Shocks you, that, does it, Dumbledore? Frightens you?"

"Well, I cannot pretend it does not disgust me a little," said Dumbledore. "And, yes, I am a little shocked that Draco here invited you, of all people, into the school where his friends live..."

"As if." Theo said in disgust. "The brute's here because the Dark Lord wanted him here."

"Don't talk to me that way boy!" Greyback barked. Hermione whispered an incantation and sent a small sliver of silver steel at his arm. He let out a groan of agony when it connected. Silver was deadly to werewolves.

"Watch yourself." Hermione sneered.

"Shut up Greyback" said the fourth Death Eater sharply. He had a heavy, brutal-looking face. He was Antonin Dolohov"We've got orders. One of them's got to do it."

"He's not long for this world anyway, if you ask me!" said the Amycus, to the accompaniment of his sister's wheezing giggles. "Look at him-what's happened to you, then, Dumby?"

"Oh, weaker resistance, slower reflexes, Amycus," said Dumbledore. "Old age, in short ... one day, perhaps, it will happen to you ... if you are lucky ..."

"What's that mean, then, what's that mean?" yelled the Amycus, suddenly violent. "Always the same, weren't yeh, Dumby, talking and doing nothing, nothing, I don't even know why the Dark Lord's bothering to kill yeh! Come on, Draco, do it!"

But at that moment, there were renewed sounds of scuffling from below and a voice shouted, "They've blocked the stairs-Reducto! REDUCTO!"

"Now, Malfoy, quickly!" said Greyback angrily.

Draco and Hermione stayed silent, as did Theo. They were waiting for a reason.

"I'll do it," snarled Greyback, moving towards Dumbledore with his hands outstretched, his teeth bared.

"I said no!" shouted the Dolohov; there was a flash of light and the werewolf was blasted out of the way; he hit the ramparts and staggered, looking furious.

At that moment the door clicked open and Professor Snape walked in,.

"Hello Professor." Hermione said politely. She was going to continue but somebody else had spoken Snape's name, quite softly.

"Severus ..."

For the first time, Dumbledore was pleading.

Snape said nothing. He looked at Hermione and she nodded. Hermione stepped forward.

"Avada Kedavra." she said emotionlessly, thinking of all the times she had cursed Dumbledore and hated him.

A jet of green light shot from the end of her wand and hit Dumbledore squarely in the chest. Hermione watched as Dumbledore was blasted into the air: for a split second he seemed to hang suspended beneath the shining skull, and then he fell slowly backwards, like a great rag doll, over the battlements and out of sight.

Hermione thought she would feel pain. Feel something. But she was completely apathetic. The only thing she felt was a crack in her mindscape, but she would look into that later.

"You did it." Alecto wheezed.

"Finally." Greyback grunted.

Hermione turned to face him coolly.

"Argentum Armis." she said.

Greyback was surrounded by a silver armor that compressed and squeezed his body. He let out some agony filled screams before he stopped struggling and died.

The Death Eaters stared at her. She fingered her wand with a menacing grin.

"Oops."

She felt no remorse about Greyback. He killed children and was a bloodthirsty idiot. He deserved to die.

Dolohov gave a rough grin of respect.

"Come on." he said. "You kids stay here, go back to the common room. You'll be innocent. Slytherin is locked down to anyone who is not a Slytherin student thanks to some wards and some bloody dragons are guarding it."

Hermione gave a secret smile. Luna's illusions worked. She walked off with her friends, sinking into the shadows until they reached the room.

"What happened?" Daphne asked them the moment they entered.

"Dumbledore is dead." Hermione announced. And so began the dawning of a new era.

Chapter Text

Potter knew. That was what Hermione feared. He was the person with the second broom on the tower.

"How could you?" he cornered her a few days before Dumbledore's funeral.

"I did what I had to." Hermione replied coldly.

"He was a good man!" Potter yelped.

"He was already dying." Hermione explained. "I talked to Professor Snape. That black hand of his is from the Living Mummy Curse. It causes unimaginable pain until the victim dies. He would have died in a few days either way, Potter. I granted him peace."

Potter walked away with a brooding look on his face. Hermione just sighed. That evening she retreated into her landscape. There she found a new door. She opened it.

The room was pure white. Nothing reflected off the walls, it just existed. In the middle sat a tear drop shaped glowing yellow orb. It wasn't complete. One small piece on the side had been removed, and it was sitting in a jar on a shelf in the room. The shelf was also white. In fact, the soul pieces were the only color in the room.

When Hermione looked, the jar was labelled.

Albus Percival Wulfric Brian Dumbledore

Hermione gasped. This room represented the damage to her soul. In here her spirit and soul existed. If anyone was to find this room in Legilimency they could destroy her. Every time she killed someone with the killing curse her soul would split like this. She gave a small thanks to Morgana and Merlin that she didn't kill Greyback with the killing curse too. She would have to be careful; using the Avada Kedavra was how most of the Death Eaters became insane.

Quickly she retreated from her landscape and went up to the Astronomy Tower where it happened. She could still picture it. The Dark Mark. Dumbledore's pale face. Greyback's screams as he was dove off the sill and transformed into Ankaa, her thunder phoenix form, before spending some time flying. She even got to soar with the centaurs.

She was sad when the time came to go back to the castle and help Madame Pomfrey in the Hospital Wing. Flying was when she was free. In the hospital wing she saw Bill Weasley and the rest of the Weasley's piled in. She ignored them.

"What did you need help with Madame Pomfrey?" Hermione asked.

"Just help me with the salve on Bill's wounds." she said, and Hermione set to find him. He was Bill Weasley. He was a red head like the rest of them but his face was marred by three pale slashes on his face. She decided that even if she didn't like Weasley's she would help him because of the healer oath.

"Greyback." Hermione breathed.

"You recognize his work?" the oldest Weasley, Arthur she believed, asked.

"Of course I do." disgust for Greyback was laced in Hermione's voice. "He's a monster. He deserved everything that came to him."

"You know, rumours say that he was found dead in a suit of silver armor." one of the twins said. "And the spell used was an obscure dark one that only the most studious person could have found."

Hermione looked around. They were all scrutinizing her. She decided to play along.

"And of course there's no way that a book in the Malfoy Library may have contained a spell from Merlin's time to kill werewolves."

They all relaxed a bit.

"Why?" Ron Weasley asked.

"Because," Hermione said eventually. "He's a monster. This may be war, and people will die, but I refuse to hurt innocents. He has killed and hurt so many people with his bite for no reason other than blood thirst and it sickens me."

"Can you help him?" the mother asked.

"I can try." Hermione said. "But I need a promise if I do."

"Just like a Slytherin." Ron Weasley said in disgust. "Never doing things cause it's right."

"Of course not." Hermione snapped. "I've been called mudblood by you far too many times to just ignore it. I've been hexed by Gryffindors and having my friends beaten up too much. I want a promise that if I heal him that your family will leave me and my friends alone."

'Fine." said Mrs Weasley after a while.

Hermione gave a satisfied grin and turned to look at the marks. They were raw and red, marks that even silver could not help.

"Argentum sanitatem fixture" she chanted. The cuts closed carefully to reveal three thin white lines.

"Thank you." a blonde woman who Hermione hadn't noticed said. "Thank you."

"Who are you?" Hermione asked.

"Fleur Delacour." she replied.

"From the Triwizard Tournament." Hermione commented. Now she knew where she recognized the woman. She looked the same as before, and Hermione wondered how she had such an ageless look.

"Why would you help him?" Ginny Weasley asked.

"Because despite what you might think I'm not a monster." Hermione said quietly.

"He told us." Ron Weasley interrupted as Hermione pulled out some paste for his scars. "That you killed Dumbledore."

"Did he tell you the rest?" Hermione asked. "That he had the Living Mummy Curse on him? That he would have died in a week anyway?"

"Yeah." he admitted reluctantly.

"Good. Now, Weasley has to apply this every morning and evening. It will soak into his skin and if he's good about it for a year his scars should fade into his skin. Be careful with this tub because it's the only one I have; the bruise paste is one I created." she said briskly before walking out.

That evening Hermione was called to the office. The Headmaster's office. She supposed it was because she killed Dumbledore.

"Miss Granger." McGonagall said severely. All the Weasleys and the Order of the Phoenix were in there with Potter and the Professors.

"Yes?" she asked, tapping her foot. She wore an informal skirt and one shoulder shirt with her hair tied up.

"We would like to confirm the rumours about the Headmaster and Kingsley's death." she said.

Hermione made a split second decision. She would do this, if only because she had no other option.

"I need you to take an Unbreakable Vow not to reveal what has happened in this room first." Hermione asked cautiously.

They all took the vows.

"I killed Dumbledore because I was told to. He was under the Living Mummy Curse and would have died in a week anyway. I used the Avada Kedavra."

"Do you regret his death?" McGonagall asked.

"No." Hermione replied. "He hated me and all Slytherins. He was biased and made sure that Saint Potter never got in trouble. He's simply a person who I killed."

Potter glared at her.

"Greyback?" McGonagall asked.

"I didn't like him. Innocents should be kept out of the war yet he takes great pleasure in hurting them. I used a dark spell from the Malfoy Library made specifically for fighting werewolves."

"Kingsley?" she asked again.

"Over summer they found traces of a potion I created in the Department of Mysteries. Since I was the creator, it was private, and it enabled everyone to escape, they questioned me. Shacklebolt used Veritaserum on me even though it was against the law and dosed me with three times the normal amount of the liquid. I got revenge."

"I never thought he would do that." McGonagall whispered.

"If that's all, I'll be leaving." Hermione said tartly, before walking away. That evening Hermione went flying. She saw Fawkes there also flying and singing and she followed him. The swooped and soared before he abruptly stopped singing. He gave her a sad caw before bursting into flames and leaving.

All lessons were suspended, all examinations postponed. Some students were hurried away from Hogwarts by their parents over the next couple of days-the Patil twins were gone before breakfast on the morning following Dumbledore's death and Zach's father forced him to leave. He gave them an apologetic look. Seamus Finnigan, on the other hand, refused point-blank to accompany his mother home; they had a shouting match in the Entrance Hall which was resolved when she agreed that he could remain behind for the funeral. Wizards and witches were pouring into the village, preparing to pay their last respects to Dumbledore.

Some excitement was caused among the younger students, who had never seen it before, when a powder-blue carriage the size of a house, pulled by a dozen giant winged palominos, came soaring out of the sky in the late afternoon before the funeral and landed on the edge of the Forest. Hermion watched from a window as a gigantic and handsome olive-skinned, black-haired woman descended the carriage steps and threw herself into the waiting Hagrid's arms. Meanwhile a delegation of Ministry officials, including the Minister for Magic himself, was being accommodated within the castle.

The beautiful weather belayed the grief filled atmosphere, but Hermione didn't seem to notice. She carried on like before.

She was called to the hospital wing to help Bill Weasley because his scars had become inflamed. She had sighed an retrieved a vial of her thunder phoenix tears and told him to apply one drop every week

Hermione rose early to pack the next day; the Hogwarts Express would be leaving an hour after the funeral. Downstairs she found the mood in the Great Hall subdued. Everybody was wearing their dress robes and no one seemed very hungry. Hermione herself wore a black funeral dress and cloak, though she was not in mourning. Professor McGonagall had left the thronelike chair in the middle of the staff table empty. Hagrid's chair was deserted too: Rufus Scrimgeour had filled it.

Professor McGonagall had risen to her feet and the mournful hum in the Hall died away at once.

"It is nearly time," she said. "Please follow your Heads of House out into the grounds. Gryffindors, after me."

They filed out from behind their benches in near silence. Professor Snape led them to the funeral wearing black robes but with a dark green trim; it was the only color she had ever seen on him. She had never seen Professor Sprout, Head of the Hufflepuffs, looking so clean; there was not a single patch on her hat, and when they reached the Entrance Hall, they found Madam Pince standing beside Filch, she in a thick black veil that fell to her knees, he in an ancient black suit and tie reeking of mothballs.

They were heading, as Hermione saw when he stepped out on to the stone steps from the front doors, towards the lake. The warmth of the sun caressed her face as they followed Professor McGonagall in silence to the place where hundreds of chairs had been set out in rows. An aisle ran down the centre of them: there was a marble table standing at the front, all chairs facing it. It was the most beautiful summer's day.

An extraordinary assortment of people had already settled into half of the chairs: shabby and smart, old and young. Most Hermione did not recognise, but there were a few that she did: Fred and George Weasley, the pink haired woman she had seen on the Astronomy Tower, Professor there was Madame Maxime, who took up two-and-a-half chairs on her own, Tom, the landlord of the Leaky Cauldron, the hairy bass player from the wizarding group the Weird bisters, Ernie Prang, driver of the Knight Bus, Madam Malkin, of the robe shop in Diagon Alley, and some people whom Hermione merely knew by sight, such as the barman of the Hog's Head and the witch who pushed the trolley on the Hogwarts Express. The castle ghosts were there too, barely visible in the bright sunlight, discernible only when they moved, shimmering insubstantially in the gleaming air.

Hermione and her friends took a seat in the Slytherin had been persecuted by the other houses worse than ever. People were whispering to each other; it sounded like a breeze in the grass, but the birdsong was louder by far. The crowd continued to swell.

Cornelius Fudge walked past them towards the front rows, his expression miserable, twirling his green bowler hat as usual; Hermione next recognised Rita Skeeter, who had a notebook clutched in her red-taloned hand; and then, with a jolt of fury, Dolores Umbridge, an unconvincing expression of grief upon her toadlike face, a black velvet bow set atop her iron-coloured curls. She wondered how the bitch had survived the forest but didn't give it another thought. At the sight of the centaur Firenze, who was standing like a sentinel near the water's edge, she gave a start and scurried hastily into a seat a good distance away.

The staff were seated at last. Hermione could see Scrimgeour looking grave and dignified in the front row with Professor McGonagall. But then she heard music, strange otherworldly music and she turned to look for it. She was not the only one: many heads were turning, searching, a little alarmed.

And she saw them in the clear green sunlit water, inches below the surface, a chorus of merpeople singing in a strange language she did not understand, their pallid faces rippling, their purplish hair flowing all around them. The music made the hair on Hermione's neck stand up and yet it was not unpleasant. It spoke very clearly of loss and of despair. As she looked down into the wild faces of the singers she had the feeling that they, at least, were sorry for Dumbledore's passing.

Hagrid was walking slowly up the aisle between the chairs. He was crying quite silently, his face gleaming with tears, and in his arms, wrapped in purple velvet spangled with golden stars, was what Hermione knew to be Dumbledore's body. She looked at the body that she had killed, that she had struck down. She felt nothing for him. She had hated him for years, and he had thought her to be evil ever since her sorting.

They could not see clearly what was happening at the front. Hagrid seemed to have placed the body carefully upon the table. Now he retreated down the aisle, blowing his nose with loud trumpeting noises that drew scandalised looks from some, including, Hermione saw, Dolores Umbridge ... Hagrid sat next to a giant that was even bigger than him and she wondered where it had come from.

A little tufty-haired man in plain black robes had got to his feet and stood now in front of Dumbledore's body. Hermione could not hear what he was saying. Odd words floated back to them over the hundreds of beads. "Nobility of spirit" ... "intellectual contribution" ... "greatness of heart" ... it did not mean very much. It had little to do with Dumbledore as Hermione had known him; he was a manipulative person, though admittedly a genius and an excellent war wizard.

There was a soft splashing noise to her left and she saw that the merpeople had broken the surface to listen, too.

There was movement among the trees. The centaurs had come to pay their respects, too. They did not move into the open but Hermione saw them standing quite still, half-hidden in shadow, watching the wizards, their bows hanging at their sides. Hermione knew that they stayed neutral in all wars and the Dark Lord had offered to leave them alone if they didn't take sides.

The little man in black had stopped speaking at last and resumed his seat. Then several people screamed. Bright, white flames had erupted around Dumbledore's body and the table upon which it lay: higher and higher they rose, obscuring the body. White smoke spiralled into the air and made strange shapes: Hermione thought she saw the shape of a phoenix in the smokebut next second the fire had vanished. In its place was a white marble tomb, encasing Dumbledore's body and the table on which he had rested.

There were a few more cries of shock as a shower of arrows soared through the air, but they fell far short of the crowd. It was, Hermione knew, the centaurs' tribute: she saw them turn tail and disappear back into the cool trees. Likewise the merpeople sank slowly back into the green water and were lost from view.

The funeral was over; everyone started leaving. Hermione saw Mr and Mrs Malfoy had come to pick all the teens up and take them home; she felt her heart lift. Even though these were dark times, she could enjoy her summer with friends. She imagined the garden of Malfoy Manor, with it's always blooming flowers; she thought of Draco and her laughing on a bench as he tucked a flower into her hair and she pinned one to his shirt.

She knew one thing for certain: she was going to spend as much time as she could with Draco because she loved him.

Chapter Text

Hermione sat in the drawing room in Malfoy Manor at a Death Eater meeting. She was next to Bellatrix and on her other side was Draco then Theo. At the moment two people entered: Snape and Yaxley.

The room was full of silent people sitting at a long and ornate table. The room's usual furniture had been pushed carelessly up against the walls. Illumination came from a roaring fire beneath a handsome marble mantelpiece surmounted by a gilded mirror. Snape and Yaxley lingered for a moment on the threshold and, as their eyes grew accustomed to the lack of light, they were drawn upward to the strangest feature of the scene: an apparently unconscious human figure hanging upside down over the table, revolving slowly as if suspended by an invisible rope and reflected in both the mirror and the bare, polished surface of the table below. None of the people seated underneath this singular sight were looking at it, though Hermione glanced at it in fascination occasionally.

"Yaxley. Snape," said a high, clear voice from the head of the table. "You are very nearly late."

The speaker was seated directly in front of the fireplace, so that it was difficult, at first, for the new arrivals to make out more than his silhouette. As they drew nearer, however, his face shone through the gloom: hairless, snake like, slits for nostrils and gleaming red eyes whose pupils were vertical. He was so pale that he seemed to emit a pearly glow.

"Severus, here," said Voldemort, indicating the seat on his immediate right. "Yaxley, beside Dolohov."

The two men took their allotted places. Most of the eyes around the table followed Snape, and it was to him that Voldemort spoke first.

"So?"

"My Lord, the Order of the Phoenix intends to move Harry Potter from his current place of safety next Saturday at nightfall."

The interest around the table sharpened palpably: some stiffened, others fidgeted, all gazing at Snape and Voldemort. Hermione hoped to be able to trap him somehow.

"Saturday ... at nightfall," repeated Voldemort. His red eyes fastened upon Snape's black ones with such intensity that some of the watchers looked away, apparently fearful that they themselves would be scorched by the ferocity of the gaze. Snape, however, looked calmly back into Voldemort's face and, after a moment or two, Voldemort's lipless mouth curved into something like a smile.

"Good. Very good. And this information comes from? "

"From the source we discussed," said Snape.

"My Lord."

Yaxley had leaned forward to look down the long table at Voldemort and Snape. All faces turned to him.

"My Lord, I have heard differently."

Yaxley waited, but Voldemort did not speak, so he went on, "Dawlish, the Auror, let slip that Potter will not be moved until the thirtieth, the night before the boy turns seventeen."

Snape was smiling. Hermione knew that meant that Yaxley was wrong.

"My source told me that there are plans to lay a false trail; this must be it. No doubt a Confundus Charm has been placed upon Dawlish. It would not be the first time; he is known to be susceptible."

"I assure you, my Lord, Dawlish seemed quite certain," said Yaxley.

"If he has been Confunded, of course he is certain," said Snape. "I assure you, Yaxley, the Auror Office will play no further part in the protection of Harry Potter. The Order believes that we have infiltrated the Ministry."

"The Order's got one thing right, then, eh?" said a squat man sitting a short distance from Yaxley; he gave a wheezy giggle that was echoed here and there along the table.

Hermione rolled her eyes. She hated Alecto Carrow.

Voldemort did not laugh. His gaze had wandered upward to the body revolving slowly overhead, and he seemed to be lost in thought.

"My Lord," Yaxley went on, "Dawlish believes an entire party of Aurors will be used to transfer the boy. "

Well that was a stupid idea. The Aurors didn't even work with him!

Voldemort held up a large white hand, and Yaxley subsided at once, watching resentfully as Voldemort turned back to Snape.

"Where are they going to hide the boy next?"

"At the home of one of the Order," said Snape. "The place, according to the source, has been given every protection that the Order and Ministry together could provide. I think that there is little chance of taking him once he is there, my Lord, unless, of course, the Ministry has fallen before next Saturday, which might give us the opportunity to discover and undo enough of the enchantments to break through the rest."

"Well, Yaxley?" Voldemort called down the table, the firelight glinting strangely in his red eyes. "Will the Ministry have fallen by next Saturday?"

Once again, all heads turned. Yaxley squared his shoulders.

"My Lord, I have good news on that score. I have, with difficulty and after great effort, succeeded in placing an Imperius Curse upon Pius Thicknesse."

Many of those sitting around Yaxley looked impressed; his neighbor, Dolohov, a man with a long, twisted face, clapped him on the back. Hermione allowed herself a smirk as she clasped Draco's hand; they were gaining power quickly.

"It is a start," said Voldemort. "But Thicknesse is only one man. Scrimgeour must be surrounded by our people before I act. One failed attempt on the Minister's life will set me back a long way."

"Yes my Lord, that is true but you know, as Head of the Department of Magical Law Enforcement, Thicknesse has regular contact not only with the Minister himself, but also with the Heads of all the other Ministry departments. It will, I think, be easy, now that we have such a high-ranking official under our control, to subjugate the others, and then they can all work together to bring Scrimgeour down."

"As long as our friend Thicknesse is not discovered before he has converted the rest," said Voldemort. "At any rate, it remains unlikely that the Ministry will be mine before next Saturday. If we cannot touch the boy at his destination, then it must be done while he travels."

"We are at an advantage there, my Lord," said Yaxley, who seemed determined to receive some portion of approval. "We now have several people planted within the Department of Magical Transport. If Potter Apparates or uses the Floo Network, we shall know immediately."

"He will not do either," said Snape. "The Order is eschewing any form of transport that is controlled or regulated by the Ministry; they mistrust everything to do with the place."

"All the better," said Voldemort. "He will have to move in the open. Easier to take, by far."

Again, Voldemort looked up at the slowly revolving body as he went on, "I shall attend to the boy in person. There have been too many mistakes where Harry Potter is concerned. Some of them have been my own. That Potter lives is due more to my errors than to his triumphs."

The company around the table watched Voldemort apprehensively, each of them, by his or her expression, afraid that they might be blamed for Harry Potter's continued existence. Voldemort, however, seemed to be speaking more to himself than to any of them, still addressing the unconscious body above him. Hermione thought that it was mostly for dramatic effect.

"I have been careless, and so have been thwarted by luck and chance, those wreckers of all but the best-laid plans. But I know better now. I understand those things that I did not understand before. I must and shall be the one to kill Harry Potter."

At these words, seemingly in response to them, a sudden wail sounded: a terrible, drawn-out cry of misery and pain. Many of those at the table looked downward, startled, for the sound had seemed to issue from below their feet.

"Wormtail," said Voldemort, with no change in his quiet, thoughtful tone, and without removing his eyes from the revolving body above, "Have I not spoken to you about keeping our prisoner quiet?"

"Yes, m-my Lord," gasped a small man halfway down the table, who had been sitting so low in his chair that it appeared, at first glance, to be unoccupied. Now he scrambled from his seat and scurried from the room, leaving nothing behind him but a curious gleam of silver.

Hermione rolled her eyes again. Wormtail, or Peter Pettigrew, was a spineless worm of a person!

"As I was saying," continued Voldemort, looking again at the tense faces of his followers, "I understand better now. I shall need, for instance, to borrow a wand from one of you before I go to kill Potter."

The faces around him displayed nothing but shock; he might have announced that he wanted to borrow one of their arms.

"My Lord, would it not be more prudent to gain one of your own so it is more effective?" Hermione spoke up. She knew that if this went wrong she could be crucio'd.

"Pray tell, what would you have me do?" he asked, his red eyes fastening on her.

"Ollivander the wandmaker." Hermione said without hesitation. "Capture him and have him create a wand especially for you under threat. He would have to. This way you have a wand that is bonded to you and is without the matching phoenix feather core."

"I shall take your idea into consideration." he said, but Hermione saw the thoughtful gleam in his eyes. He would do as she recommended.

After a few minutes of contemplation he spoke again.

"Many of our oldest family trees become a little diseased over time," he said as Bellatrix gazed at him, breathless and imploring, "You must prune yours, must you not, to keep it healthy? Cut away those parts that threaten the health of the rest."

Hermione knew he was referring to Remus Lupin and Nymphadora Tonks, who had just married.

"Yes, my Lord," whispered Bellatrix, and her eyes swam with tears of gratitude again. "At the first chance!"

"You shall have it," said Voldemort. "And in your family, so in the world ... we shall cut away the cancer that infects us until only those of the true blood remain ..."

Voldemort raised his wand, pointed it directly at the slowly revolving figure suspended over the table, and gave it a tiny flick. The figure came to life with a groan and began to struggle against invisible bonds.

"Do you recognize our guest, Severus?" asked Voldemort. Hermione did, but she barely knew the woman.

Snape raised his eyes to the upside down face. All of the Death Eaters were looking up at the captive now, as though they had been given permission to show curiosity. As she revolved to face the firelight, the woman said in a cracked and terrified voice, "Severus! Help me!"

"Ah, yes," said Snape as the prisoner turned slowly away again.

"Hmm" asked Voldemort, stroking the snake's snout with his wand-free hand. "And you Hermione, Draco, Theodore?" Now that the woman had woken, he seemed unable to look at her anymore.

Hermione sneered at the woman.

"You do not approve of her?" he asked.

"She's a fool." Hermione stated. "She knows nothing about how muggles really are yet she preaches about them. The entire subject is a waste of time and nearly a century old."

Hermione stopped herself. If she continued she would go into a rant about how stupid the class was.

"But you would not have taken her classes," said Voldemort. "For those of you who do not know, we are joined here tonight by Charity Burbage who, until recently, taught at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry."

There were small noises of comprehension around the table. A broad, hunched woman with pointed teeth cackled.

"Yes ... Professor Burbage taught the children of witches and wizards all about Muggles ... how they are not so different from us ..."

One of the Death Eaters spat on the floor. Charity Burbage revolved to face Snape again.

"Severus ... please ... please ..."

"Silence," said Voldemort, with another twitch of his wand, and Charity fell silent as if gagged. "Not content with corrupting and polluting the minds of Wizarding children, last week Professor Burbage wrote an impassioned defense of Mudbloods in the Daily Prophet. Wizards, she says, must accept these thieves of their knowledge and magic. The dwindling of the purebloods is, says Professor Burbage, a most desirable circumstance ... She would have us all mate with Muggles ... or, no doubt, werewolves ..."

Nobody laughed this time. There was no mistaking the anger and contempt in Voldemort's voice. For the third time, Charity Burbage revolved to face Snape. Tears were pouring from her eyes into her hair. Snape looked back at her, quite impassive, as she turned slowly away from him again.

"Avada Kedavra"

The flash of green light illuminated every corner of the room. Charity fell, with a resounding crash, onto the table below, which trembled and creaked. Several of the Death Eaters leapt back in their chairs.

"Dinner, Nagini," said Voldemort softly, and the great snake swayed and slithered from his shoulders onto the polished wood. Hermione did her best not to puke as the snake ate the woman.

After the meeting she went to the gardens with Draco.

"Come on." she whispered, before leaping away. She had changed, and wore just a loose white top and shorts, barefoot. She ran away while Draco chased her, her hair streaming behind her in waves. To Draco she looked like a nymph.

"I caught you." he grinned victoriously after a while.

"But I win." she smirked, before leaning on her tiptoes to kiss him. They stayed like that before going in for dinner.

A few days later they started planning who was going to ambush Potter.

"I want Bellatrix, Rodolphus, Severus, and Antonin to go." he said. "I will have 20 of the Outer Circle join each of you in a legion, but I want Draco, Theodore, and Hermione to go as a separate group. Your job will be different from the rest: you must find Potter. I believe they will try to avoid us and distract us, so you must go straight to Potter."

"Yes milord." Hermione bowed as did her friends before they left.

"Look at this." Theo muttered a while later. Hermione and Draco had been reading a book while Theo went through the newspaper.

ALBUS DUMBLEDORE REMEMBERED

By Elphias Doge

I met Albus Dumbledore at the age of eleven, on our first day at Hogwarts. Our mutual attraction was undoubtedly due to the fact that we both felt ourselves to be outsiders. I had contracted dragon pox shortly before arriving at school, and while I was no longer contagious, my pock-marked visage and greenish hue did not encourage many to approach me. For his part, Albus had arrived at Hogwarts under the burden of unwanted notoriety. Scarcely a year previously, his father, Percival, had been convicted of a savage and well-publicized attack upon three young Muggles.

Albus never attempted to deny that his father (who was to die in Azkaban) had committed this crime; on the contrary, when I plucked up courage to ask him, he assured me that he knew his father to be guilty. Beyond that, Dumbledore refused to speak of the sad business, though many attempted to make him do so. Some, indeed, were disposed to praise his father's action and assumed that Albus too was a Muggle-hater. They could not have been more mistaken: As anybody who knew Albus would attest, he never revealed the remotest anti-Muggle tendency. Indeed, his determined support for Muggle rights gained him many enemies in subsequent years.

In a matter of months, however, Albus's own fame had begun to eclipse that of his father. By the end of his first year he would never again be known as the son of a Muggle-hater, but as nothing more or less than the most brilliant student ever seen at the school. Those of us who were privileged to be his friends benefited from his example, not to mention his help and encouragement, with which he was always generous. He confessed to me later in life that he knew even then that his greatest pleasure lay in teaching.

He not only won every prize of note that the school offered, he was soon in regular correspondence with the most notable magical names of the day, including Nicolas Flamel, the celebrated alchemist; Bathilda Bagshot, the noted historian; and Adalbert Waffling, the magical theoretician. Several of his papers found their way into learned publications such as Transfiguration Today, Challenges in Charming, and The Practical Potioneer. Dumbledore's future career seemed likely to be meteoric, and the only question that remained was when he would become Minister of Magic. Though it was often predicted in later years that he was on the point of taking the job, however, he never had Ministerial ambitions.

Three years after we had started at Hogwarts, Albus's brother, Aberforth, arrived at school. They were not alike: Aberforth was never bookish and, unlike Albus, preferred to settle arguments by dueling rather than through reasoned discussion. However, it is quite wrong to suggest, as some have, that the brothers were not friends. They rubbed along as comfortably as two such different boys could do. In fairness to Aberforth, it must be admitted that living in Albus's shadow cannot have been an altogether comfortable experience. Being continually outshone was an occupational hazard of being his friend and cannot have been any more pleasurable as a brother. When Albus and I left Hogwarts we intended to take the then-traditional tour of the world together, visiting and observing foreign wizards, before pursuing our separate careers. However, tragedy intervened. On the very eve of our trip, Albus's mother, Kendra, died, leaving Albus the head, and sole breadwinner, of the family. I postponed my departure long enough to pay my respects at Kendra's funeral, then left for what was now to be a solitary journey. With a younger brother and sister to care for, and little gold left to them, there could no longer be any question of Albus accompanying me.

That was the period of our lives when we had least contact. I wrote to Albus, describing, perhaps insensitively, the wonders of my journey, from narrow escapes from chimaeras in Greece to the experiments of the Egyptian alchemists. His letters told me little of his day-to-day life, which I guessed to be frustratingly dull for such a brilliant wizard. Immersed in my own experiences, it was with horror that I heard, toward the end of my year's travels, that another tragedy had struck the Dumbledores: the death of his sister, Ariana.

Though Ariana had been in poor health for a long time, the blow, coming so soon after the loss of their mother, had a profound effect on both of her brothers. All those closest to Albus and I count myself one of that lucky number ¨C agree that Ariana's death, and Albus's feeling of personal responsibility for it (though, of course, he was guiltless), left their mark upon him forevermore.

I returned home to find a young man who had experienced a much older person's suffering. Albus was more reserved than before, and much less light-hearted. To add to his misery, the loss of Ariana had led, not to a renewed closeness between Albus and Aberforth, but to an estrangement. (In time this would lift ¨C in later years they reestablished, if not a close relationship, then certainly a cordial one.) However, he rarely spoke of his parents or of Ariana from then on, and his friends learned not to mention them.

Other quills will describe the triumphs of the following years. Dumbledore's innumerable contributions to the store of Wizarding knowledge, including his discovery of the twelve uses of dragon's blood, will benefit generations to come, as will the wisdom he displayed in the many judgments while Chief Warlock of the Wizengamot. They say, still, that no Wizarding duel ever matched that between Dumbledore and Grindelwald in 1945. Those who witnessed it have written of the terror and the awe they felt as they watched these two extraordinary wizards to battle. Dumbledore's triumph, and its consequences for the Wizarding world, are considered a turning point in magical history to match the introduction of the International Statute of Secrecy or the downfall of He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named.

Albus Dumbledore was never proud or vain; he could find something to value in anyone, however apparently insignificant or wretched, and I believe that his early losses endowed him with great humanity and sympathy. I shall miss his friendship more than I can say, but my loss is nothing compared to the Wizarding world's. That he was the most inspiring and best loved of all Hogwarts headmasters cannot be in question. He died as he lived: working always for the greater good and, to his last hour, as willing to stretch out a hand to a small boy with dragon pox as he was on the day I met him.

"That takes out all of Dumbledore's manipulations." Hermione said in disgust. "This may be one side of him, but it isn't the other."

"But look at it's counter." Theo grinned, showing them another small article.

DUMBLEDORE: THE TRUTH AT LAST?

Coming next week, the shocking story of the flawed genius considered by many to be the greatest wizard of his generation. Striping away the popular image of serene, silver-bearded wisdom, Rita Skeeter reveals the disturbed childhood, the lawless youth, the life-long feuds, and the guilty secrets that Dumbledore carried to his grave, WHY was the man tipped to be the Minister of Magic content to remain a mere headmaster? WHAT was the real purpose of the secret organization known as the Order of the Phoenix? HOW did Dumbledore really meet his end?

Hermione started laughing. This was perfect. She would have to send Rita some sort of thanks and ask if she would include Dumbledore's bias towards Gryffindors.

The answers to these and many more questions are explored in the explosive new biography, The Life and Lies of Albus Dumbledore, by Rita Skeeter, exclusively interviewed by Berry Braithwaite, page 13, inside.

Hermione ripped open the paper and found page thirteen. Draco leaned over her shoulder and Theo did too. The article was topped with a picture showing another familiar face: a woman wearing jeweled glasses with elaborately curled blonde hair, her teeth bared in a winning smile, wiggling her fingers up at him.

In person, Rita Skeeter is much warmer and softer than her famously ferocious quill-portraits might suggest. Greeting me in the hallway of her cozy home, she leads me straight into the kitchen for a cup of tea, a slice of pound cake and, it goes without saying, a steaming vat of freshest gossip.

"Well, of course, Dumbledore is a biographer's dream," says Skeeter. "Such a long, full life. I'm sure my book will be the first of very, very many."

Skeeter was certainly quick off the mark. Her nine-hundred-page book was completed in a mere four weeks after Dumbledore's mysterious death in June. I ask her how she managed this superfast feat.

"Oh, when you've been a journalist as long as I have, working to a deadline is second nature. I knew that the Wizarding world was clamoring for the full story and I wanted to be the first to meet that need."

I mention the recent, widely publicized remarks of Elphias Doge, Special Advisor to the Wizengamot and longstanding friend of Albus Dumbledore's, that "Skeeter's book contains less fact than a Chocolate Frog card."

Skeeter throws back her head and laughs.

"Darling Dodgy! I remember interviewing him a few years back about merpeople rights, bless him. Completely gaga, seemed to think we were sitting at the bottom of Lake Windermere, kept telling me to watch out for trout."

And yet Elphias Doge's accusations of inaccuracy have been echoed in many places. Does Skeeter really feel that four short weeks have been enough to gain a full picture of Dumbledore's long and extraordinary life?

"Oh, my dear," beams Skeeter, rapping me affectionately across the knuckles, "you know as well as I do how much information can be generated by a fat bag of Galleons, a refusal to hear the word 'no,' and a nice sharp Quick-Quotes Quill! People were queuing to dish the dirt on Dumbledore anyway. Not everyone thought he was so wonderful, you know he trod on an awful lot of important toes. But old Dodgy Doge can get off his high hippogriff, because I've had access to a source most journalists would swap their wands for, one who has never spoken in public before and who was close to Dumbledore during the most turbulent and disturbing phase of his youth."

The advance publicity for Skeeter's biography has certainly suggested that there will be shocks in store for those who believe Dumbledore to have led a blameless life. What were the biggest surprises she uncovered, I ask?

"Now, come off it. Betty, I'm not giving away all the highlights before anybody's bought the book!" laughs Skeeter. "But I can promise that anybody who still thinks Dumbledore was white as his beard is in for a rude awakening! Let's just say that nobody hearing him rage against You-Know-Who would have dreamed that he dabbled in the Dark Arts himself in his youth! And for a wizard who spent his later years pleading for tolerance, he wasn't exactly broad-minded when he was younger! Yes, Albus Dumbledore had an extremely murky past, not to mention that very fishy family, which he worked so hard to keep hushed up."

I ask whether Skeeter is referring to Dumbledore's brother, Aberforth, whose conviction by the Wizengamot for misuse of magic caused a minor scandal fifteen years ago.

"Oh, Aberforth is just the tip of the dung heap," laughs Skeeter. "No, no, I'm talking about much worse than a brother with a fondness for fiddling about with goats, worse even than the Muggle-maiming father Dumbledore couldn't keep either of them quiet anyway, they were both charged by the Wizengamot. No, it's the mother and the sister that intrigued me, and a little digging uncovered a positive nest of nastiness but, as I say, you'll have to wait for chapters nine to twelve for full details. All I can say now is, it's no wonder Dumbledore never talked about how his nose got broken."

Family skeletons notwithstanding, does Skeeter deny the brilliance that led to Dumbledore's many magical discoveries?

"He had brains," she concedes, "although many now question whether he could really take full credit for all of his supposed achievements. As I reveal in chapter sixteen, Ivor Dillonsby claims he had already discovered eight uses of dragon's blood when Dumbledore 'borrowed' his papers."

But the importance of some of Dumbledore's achievements cannot, I venture, be denied. What of his famous defeat of Grindelwald?

"Oh, now, I'm glad you mentioned Grindelwald," says Skeeter with such a tantalizing smile. "I'm afraid those who go dewy-eyed over Dumbledore's spectacular victory must brace themselves for a bombshell or perhaps a Dungbomb. Very dirty business indeed. All I'll say is, don't be so sure that there really was a spectacular duel of legend. After they've read my book, people may be forced to conclude that Grindelwald simply conjured a white handkerchief from the end of his wand and came quietly!"

Skeeter refuses to give any more away on this intriguing subject, so we turn instead to the relationship that will undoubtedly fascinate her readers more than any other.

"Oh yes," says Skeeter, nodding briskly, "I devote an entire chapter to the whole Potter-Dumbledore relationship. It's been called unhealthy, even sinister. Again, your readers will have to buy my book for the whole story, but there is no question that Dumbledore took an unnatural interest in Potter from the word go. Whether that was really in the boy's best interests well, we'll see. It's certainly an open secret that Potter has had a most troubled adolescence. And don't forget about how Potter was part of a gang that beat up a student three years ago without even being suspended! No ,this also goes into pure bias!"

I ask whether Skeeter is still in touch with Harry Potter, whom she so famously interviewed last year: a breakthrough piece in which Potter spoke exclusively of his conviction that You-Know-Who had returned.

"Oh, yes, we've developed a closer bond," says Skeeter. "Poor Potter has few real friends, and we met at one of the most testing moments of his life the Triwizard Tournament. I am probably one of the only people alive who can say that they know the real Harry Potter."

Which leads us neatly to the many rumors still circulating about Dumbledore's final hours. Does Skeeter believe that Potter was there when Dumbledore died?

"Well, I don't want to say too much it's all in the book but eyewitnesses inside Hogwarts castle saw Potter running away from the scene moments after Dumbledore fell, jumped, or was pushed. Potter later gave evidence against Severus Snape, a man against whom he has a notorious grudge. Is everything as it seems? That is for the Wizarding community to decide once they've read my book."

On that intriguing note, I take my leave. There can be no doubt that Skeeter has quilled an instant bestseller. Dumbledore's legion of admirers, meanwhile, may well be trembling at what is soon to emerge about their hero.

Hermione was laughing.

"This is going to be amazing." she grinned.

"I can't wait to see the book." Draco smirked. "Amazing article Theo. Rita Skeeter may make enemies, but this is a book everyone will want to read."

Soon it was time for Potter's ambush. Hermione wore a black corset top and a pair of tight black pants instead of her dress. She also wore a mask and cloak. She rode on a Nimbus 2001, as did the other Death Eaters. Thanks to her practice lessons with Draco she was able to ride one confidently and perform a few maneuvers, though not many.

They flew to a muggle neighborhood in Surrey and floated in the clouds. Dolohov, who specialized in weather magic, created thick fog to surround them so they stayed hidden. Soon the Order came up. Hermione saw people on thestrals, brooms, and even a flying motorbike.

"NOW!" Dolohov boomed, and they flew out of the fog, swarming the Order and surrounding them.

From the very beginning Killing Curses were being thrown willy nilly. Hermione preferred to use cutting curses, Sectumsempra's, and a new dark curse she found that liquified someone's insides. She looked around and found that every single one of the people were dressed identically. Seven Potters. Seven. Damn it. Why was it so hard to kill him?

Hermione, Draco, and Theo split up. Hermione watched the motorbike, Draco the brooms, and Theo thestrals. An Order member got in her way and she used the Sectumsempra to cut his ear off before veering away. She was nearly hit by a curse and her hood fell off but her mask remained.

"NO! HEDWIG!" she heard the Potter she was following yell as a white owl in a cage fell down to the earth. That was it. She fell back to look at the other riders and none of them had moving owls, just plushies.

She rounded a group of Outer Circle Death Eaters up before sending them at Potter and Hagrid to slow them down. The motorbike was already pretty slow. Then she moved onto her next task.

She used her dark mark charm to call the Dark Lord. He appeared in a rush of dark smoke, flying without a broom, his snake like glamour on.

"That's him." Hermione pointed, hovering on her broom. "The one on the motorbike with Hagrid."

"Excellent." he praised, before flying off. Hermione rounded Draco and Theo up before they apparated back to Malfoy Manor on a special part of the balcony where apparition was allowed.

Mrs Malfoy said nothing as was befitting a woman of her status but she wrapped them all in large hugs. The smile of relief on her face said it all.

"Will we be able to find them again?" Hermione asked at dinner that day, referring to Potter.

"No. He is at one of the Order's safe houses. The Dark Lord is working on breaking their wards down with his ward breakers as we speak."

"Good." Theo said in satisfaction.

"Who died?" Draco asked.

"Mad Eye Moody." Lucius smirked.

Hermione smiled. He was one of the Order's best fighters. If he was gone they were severely weakened.

"Even if we didn't catch Potter we severely weakened the Order." Theo grinned.

"The new death eaters from the second Azkaban Breakout helped." Draco said matter-of-factly.

"Any injuries on our side?" Hermione asked.

"Rodolphus was injured, and one of the Outer Circle died after falling off his broom from a stunning spell. None of the other Death Eaters can figure out how to heal him."

"What happened to him?" Hermione asked.

"His arm has a long gash, but none of the traditional spells will work."

"Try the healing for Sectumsempra." Hermione offered, calculations and spells whizzing through her brain. "Check for a permanence charm or wards around the cut itself."

"I will tell them." Narcissa smiled before getting up to go. Hermione wished she could help since her Trace was gone but couldn't; she was too young for the healing. Her magic was still developing and she mostly relied on potions. Her magic would not fully be complete until she was married, when her magical core merged with that of her spouse.

They managed to break in. The Dark Lord had applied a seed to all the wards that grew to encompass them. The seed was connected to him. All he had to do was vanish the seed and the wards would vanish with it.

A group of Death Eaters was sent to the Ministry. They would use Pius Thicknesse, who was under the Imperius Curse, to get close to Scrimgeour before killing him while another group went to the Burrow, where they suspected Potter was since the wedding of Bill Weasley and Fleur Delacour was happening.

Hermione, Draco, and Theo were not chosen to go this time, so Hermione spent her time with Draco in the gardens. Theo chose to go to the Duelling Room.

She just wore a loose summery white dress and he wore loose black pants and a white shirt. She giggled and tucked a large pink daisy into his hair. He smirked and wove dozens of white daisies into her chocolate curls. She giggled and kissed him lightly on the nose. He smirked and kissed her hard and kept on kissing her as the wild fire in her chest grew until she felt like she would collapse from the feel and the joy and then he stopped, a large smirk on his face, his grey eyes sparkling. Hermione wished they could stay like this forever.

That evening at dinner the Dark Lord came in with a death eater: Rowle. He had failed to capture Potter, and was being punished.

"Draco, Theodore, show him my displeasure." he commanded.

Hermione felt terror fill her heart, and stuffed it into a pool in her library. Draco and Theo had never used the Cruciatus on someone before. She hoped they would do alright. A quick glance at Mrs Malfoy showed that she felt the same thing, though both women were hiding it.

They did fine. They tortured the big blonde man until he screamed for mercy and then some. Narcissa, who had taken on a motherly role with Theo, led him from the room while Hermione took Draco. He stumbled to his bathroom before retching into the toilet.

"I felt pleasure." he shivered after a few minutes. Both teens were on the floor, curled around each other. "Does that make me a bad person? That I liked it when he was at my mercy. That I wasn't repulsed by his screams?"

"No." Hermione promised. "You're just you. That doesn't make you a bad person, it make you human. If you had refused it would have been you on the floor under the Cruciatus. Better him than you."

"I love you Hermione." he mumbled, his pale blonde hair falling in his face.

Hermione felt her heart soar. He loved her like she did!

"I love you too Draco." she whispered, her chestnut, chocolate, and blonde curls falling around them.

He calmed down after a while and both teens fell asleep on the bathroom floor wrapped around each other, exhausted. When they woke up they were in Draco's bed, still wrapped around each other. Hermione in her nightgown and Draco in his boxers. She blushed and he smirked before pulling her back into the covers for a nice kiss. Hermione felt content.

Both felt happy.

Refreshed.

Clean.

Chapter Text

Hermione sat on the train for Hogwarts. This year would be different. Potter and Weasley wouldn't be there: Hermione had found out that he had inherited everything on the Black side of the family and relayed this to the Dark Lord, who had set a watch on all the properties in London.

And, for starters, Death Eaters had taken over the school. She knew that Professor Snape would become Headmaster, and that the Carrows were taking the missing teaching spots. She found it sick.

"Hey." Draco murmured, putting his hand over her own, startling her out of her thoughts. "We'll be fine."

Hermione leaned into his shoulder, trying to push away her thoughts. They would be fine. But they wouldn't.

As Hermione left the train to catch a carriage she was violently shoved into. She whipped around.

"Death Eater." Ginny Weasley hissed. By the time Hermione reached out to catch her she was gone.

"Hey, you alright?" Draco murmured in her ear as they sat in the carriage.

"I'm fine." Hermione said softly.

That year's Slytherin intake was at an all time low. They only got four students compared to the usual ten to twelve. Hermione anticipated bullying, so she called a house meeting without the first years.

"Bullying against Slytherins will be at an all time high this year. I want every one of the firsties to be assigned a mentor for safety. I'll take Kara Burke,"

"Prosperpina Milae can be mine." Bella Farley said.

"I'll take Stefan Kirle." Zachary said.

"Which leaves Harley Mondo to me." Quincy said.

Kara was a small girl. She had tan skin and sandy blonde hair that went to her shoulder blades. Her eyes sparkled grey, and she had a rare smile that lit up the room. She was also trained in a muggle fighting style called Karate.

"So the incantation is Protego?" Kara asked her.

"Yes." Hermione nodded. "It will protect you against most school level hexes."

"And if I want to get them back?" she asked.

Hermione smirked. "You'll want to go to Draco for that. He loves hexes."

With Professor Snape as headmaster, the Carrows had taken classes. Amycus taught Defense, and Alecto taught Muggle Studies. Both had been changed and perverted. Defense against the Dark Arts had been turned into Dark Arts, and Muggle Studies, according to Yuriko Hanega, was now just spent talking about how muggles were dirty creatures.

Hermione sighed as she went to DADA.

"The Cruciatus!" Amycus crowed.

"We have some firsties who were caught breaking the rules, so we'll be practicing on them!"

Hermione felt sick. The Torture Curse on 11 year olds. She looked at their faces, and her heart dropped. Kara was in there.

"What did they do?" she asked.

"Some of them are mudbloods, and some of them were caught helping mudbloods." Amycus snarled.

"And that's supposed to be worthy of punishment?" Hermione asked angrily.

"Remember your place." he snapped. "Mudblood."

Hermione felt rage boil up in her, and acted without thinking.

"Crucio!" she snarled, and he was immediately writhing on the ground in pain. The first years stared at her in fear. She ended the spell.

"You little mudblood! I'll-" he was cut off by Draco.

"Ulcere sanguis." he said in a cold tone, his face shuttered off.

Amycus screamed again as he was hit by the blood boiling curse.

"Stupefy." Draco whispered. Amycus Carrow collapsed onto the ground.

Hermione looked at him with wide eyes. He never hurt people! He gave her a lingering gaze and she understood. He did it for her. She had never loved him more.

"You hurt him!" whispered one of the tiny Gryffindors.

"Daphne, can you Obliviate him?" Hermione asked grimly.

She nodded and pulled her blonde hair back. It had been cut until it reached just midback. She went to work.

"We'll need to find a more permanent solution." Hermione said to everyone. "Not every person in the school is as nice as us. The Carrows will keep trying to torture you guys. Go for now."

The first years all scurried off.

"Kara." Hermione reached out to grab her hand. She looked into her eyes. "Why were you caught?"

"I saw some kids bullying Stefan so I went and punched them, but then the Carrows came in and asked what we were doing associating with mudbloods. Stefan looked really scared so I took the blame for what happened."

Hermione smiled softly. "Just be more careful. Gryffindor."

Kara smirked before running off.

"What are we going to do?" Pansy fretted in the common room.

"Fake it." Theo said. He had been quiet the entire hour they had talked. The room stared at him in confusion. "Fake the Cruciatus. Say it, but don't put any power into it. Our victims can thrash around and fake pain even though they're fine."

Hermione let out a quiet sob of relief at the excellent solution. Draco's arm tightened around her shoulders.

"We'll have to spread word." Zachary said grimly.

"I can." Luna said airily. She pulled her wand out and gestured to Astoria. Slowly an illusion started to take form. It was in the shape of at thunder phoenix. Luna smiled serenely at Hermione.

"What will it do?" Harley Mondo asked.

"It's a messenger." Luna said. "They will find everyone in the castle when they are alone and against Voldemort and relay the message, the faking of pain and the curse."

"We still have a problem." Blaise said. "The Carrows will continue to use the curse on students."

"I'll brew healing potions, but I'll need help. If I am to provide for the whole castle I will need people to help monitor cauldrons with me."

"I'll help." Blaise volunteered.

"I'd love to." Draco grinned.

"I'm pretty good at Potions." Bella Farley said.

"I'll talk to Madame Pomfrey and Professors Slughorn and Snape.'' Hermione said.

"I'll start creating more messengers." Astoria said, as she and Luna crafted more blue birds.

Hermione left, aiming first to the Hospital Wing. There she saw a young girl on the bed, no more than second year, with a gash on her arm.

"What happened?" Hermione gasped.

"The Carrows." she said hoarsely.

Hermione used a dark healing spell to heal it.

"But- but- you're a Slytherin!" she exclaimed.

Hermione saw the pure innocence on her face, though it was slightly marred by the Carrow's attack.

"Not all Slytherins are evil." she murmured.

The girl gave a small smile and left. Hermione walked to Madame Pomfrey's office.

"Madame Pomfrey?" she called.

"Yes?" the motherly matron asked, bustling in.

"The Carrows are using the Cruciatus on people." she said in a rush.

Pomfrey stopped to stare at her.

"Healing supplies I suppose?" she asked.

"The Carrows will never let you heal the hurt students. I want to set up a second infirmary in one of the abandoned classrooms and ward it so the Carrows can't enter."

Madame Pomfrey gave her a warm smile.

"I would love to help."

Hermione grinned before dashing off to Professor Snape.

"I have already received one of Miss Lovegood's messages." he said as she opened her mouth, putting his hand up.

"So you'll help?" Hermione asked.

"Loaning you some of my ingredients and cauldrons shouldn't be much trouble." he smirked. "And vials shouldn't be too bad either."

Hermione smirked before making her way to Professor Slughorn's office.

"Yes, Miss Granger?" he asked.

"The Carrows are using the Cruciatus on children." Hermione said.

"My word!" he exclaimed, horrified.

"I want help in setting up a second infirmary where the Carrows can't get in and where are able to brew healing potions and practice actual duelling and charms in peace. I need help with ingredients."

"I would be honored to help." he said, and Hermione grinned. Though she was never fond of him, he stood up in the time of need.

They found an empty classroom that day and Theo, their best warder, started putting wards up.

"If we want to let the teachers in but keep Carrows out, we'll need a drop of their blood to make runestones." he told them later.

Blaise smirked darkly, making one of the younger students stare at him in fear. "Leave that to me."

An hour later he came back with two vials of blood, labelled for each of the twins. Hermione and Zachary created the runestones needed to keep them out, and placed them at the proper locations before Theo did his magic.

"Good." Hermione said briskly. "Everyone congratulate yourself for what has been done. Tomorrow starts the weekend, and we can expand this area into more rooms, for Charms, Duelling, Potions, etc. Then all we have to do is call everyone here."

"I can do that." Luna volunteered, and Astoria grinned with her.

"Luna just taught us how to make illusion tattoos that can call someone to a certain location." she grinned, tossing her dark hair over her shoulder. "Once the safe haven is ready, we can activate the tatoos. They will lead the people here.

Hermione was impressed.

"That's a complicated illusion." Daphne commented.

"It takes a lot of practice." Chastity groaned.

Hermione went to bed happy with her plan. The next day they started expanding. Professor Snape came to help them. They expanded the main room, which they decided to just decorate with couches and wall hammocks, but to expand the other rooms would require more magic than they had. It was decided that runes could be used to expand the rooms.

Expanding runes were taught in 6th year so only Hermione, Zachary, Chastity, and Quincy Nott were able to work. After drawing the runes all the students moved around saying the proper spells. This way, the magic of the runes was attached to many people, not just a few people so if one died the room would stay. The runes took nearly 4 hours, and by the time they finished it was time for lunch.

After a large lunch they went back to the room to start furnishing the rooms. It turned out that Proserpina, one of the first years, had amazing artistic talent, and she started creating signs for each of the rooms. Hermione went straight to the biggest room to set up the infirmary with Madame Pomfrey.

The nurse had duplicated all her beds and levitated them here. Hermione set them up carefully, before transfiguring some wood into proper shelves and attaching them to the wall.

"Would you like the vials?" Pansy asked from the Transfiguration room, where cages of animals and supplies to transfigure were being set up.

"Yeah." she called back, and a bag of vials was levitated into her room. She pulled them out and set them on the shelves before labelling them. Cauldrons came next: ten pewter, one obsidian, one diamond, one gold, and three brass all of them with a fire underneath. She moved to another corner of the room where Professor Snape had set up a cupboard. Pulling the ingredients from Sophie and Alex Blue out, she organized all the ingredients. Bezoars, dragon heartstring, pomegranate juice.

"Does anyone have a box?" Hermione called. They had amplified the sound so that they could talk from different rooms.

"I'll have Professor Slughorn bring one over with the extra vials." Draco called.

When Slughorn came Hermione smiled, thanked him, and took the box and vials. Opening the box she placed the vials in there with their stoppers, and closed the box. Looking around she realized there were no lights.

"Lumos." she whispered. Then, she used a rare spell from the Malfoy Library. "Sphaera speculum!"

A clear glass casing surrounded the light, and Hermione stopped the spell. The light remained. Quickly she created five more.

"Daphne?" Hermione called.

"Yeah?" she called back from the Charms room. Daphne was setting up the books for learning charms.

"Do you think you could do the hanging light charms?"

"Yeah. Just a second."

Daphne came, looking nothing like her usual self. She wore black pants and a blue shirt, while her hair was tied back. With some waves of her wand and nonverbal spells she levitated the lights Hermione made up.

"Just make some more and I'll hang them up." Daphne instructed.

Half an hour later the entire place, which they decided to call the Clubhouse, was lit up.

"Now a password." Hermione mused with Professor Slughorn.

"Emerald." Professor Snape said, waving his wand a few times. In front of them the classroom door disappeared, in front of it a sculpture of a snake.

"Emerald." Hermione said clearly.

The mouth of the snake opened up wide and expanded, before Hermione stepped into it and into the room.

"Awesome." she grinned.

"Emerald?" Astoria asked.

"Emerald." she nodded, and soon everyone knew the password.

"Ok," Hermione said, now that all the preparation was done. "Now we need a time keeper."

"I'll get it!" Quincy exclaimed, jumping up and down.

Ten minutes later, he had transfigured the remaining feathers, paint, and wood from Proserpina's sign into a blue bird that rested in a golden cage he also transfigured.

"Every hour it will make a loud chirp and say the exact time. If anyone wants to know and it is not the hour all you have to do is go to the cage and ask 'What time is it?'"

"Excellent magic little bro." Theo grinned. Quincy was an ace at charms and spent all his time tinkering with them. If you entered his room you would be greeted with six different charmed objects all talking or flying or moving.

"Ten points to Slytherin." Professor Snape said. "I will do my best as Headmaster to keep the Carrows away, but if I cannot,the room will be safe."

"It's dinner time." Luna said calmly, perched on a large chair in the main room. There were paintings and banners for all four houses in there with some hammocks too. "We can call the other students tomorrow."

Michael Corner was doing his NEWT homework when he felt a buzz on his forearm. He turned to look and saw a blue phoenix that hadn't been there five minutes ago.

"What the-" he muttered, before stopping.

It was coming off his skin in curls of blue smoke. He watched as the smoke formed itself into an arrow and started floating down out of the common room into the hall. He followed it. Near one of the halls he bumped into his best friend, Terry Boot.

"You found it too?" Terry asked, his high class British accent visible. Terry too was following a puff of blue smoke.

Both of their puffs merged into one before the two boys continued down the hall, bumping into a few more students. Soon a large mass was gathered in front of a statue of a snake that Michael had never seen before. Perched on top of the statue was Luna Lovegood, a former Ravenclaw.

Suddenly, the snake statue's mouth opened and Hermione Granger came out with Headmaster Snape, Professor Slughorn, Madame Pomfrey, Zacharias Smith, Draco Malfoy, and a few other Slytherins who Michael didn't recognize.

Terry shook his head in disgust and made to leave but Michael grasped his shoulder, holding Terry there. Terry relented.

"The Carrows." Granger started, her voice ringing clear. "As many of you will know thanks to Luna's illusions, they plan to torture many of the muggleborns and blood traitors here. I may not be the best of people, but I will not contend with letting those who are underage get hurt. Especially be the Cruciatus." her eyes narrowed.

"All of you have received the plan Luna sent you to make sure that the Cruciatus is not used on any of us. However, the Carrows will be torturing kids during their detentions. I've also heard that they will not allow the kids to be healed in the Infirmary, so we have set up a second warded room called the Clubhouse. Right here is the entrance. Inside we have a main room, study rooms for Potions, Transfiguration, Charms, Arithmancy, Ancient Runes, and even Herbology, along with an Infirmary. If you want to participate and make use of this safe haven, stay. If you wish to leave, leave now, but Headmaster Snape has placed a spell that will stop any of you from ratting us out to anyone else. This room is warded against the Carrows and the password will change every week. Luna will use her illusions to inform you of the password change."

"Why would you do this?" Neville Longbottom asked, stepping forward.

Granger stared at him.

"Because this may be war, but I will not stand by and watch innocents get hurt." Granger said after a few moments of silence.

Longbottom scrutinized her for a few moments.

"That's good enough for me." he said, and Granger face broke out into a small smile.

"If you don't wish to stay, leave." Malfoy said next to her.

Three Gryffindors and a Hufflepuff left the scene. Michael rolled his eyes. This was an amazing opportunity and they were giving it up! It also had teacher support, which was something the DA didn't have.

"The password is Emerald." Granger said, and the mouth of the snake opened up.

Michael followed the rest of them in and couldn't help but stare in awe. He was barely conscious of his girlfriend, Lisa Turpin, catching up with him.

The main room was large and painted peach with banners for all four houses on one of the walls. Three multicolored hammocks hung on one of the walls, and couches dotted the rooms. They saw a group of Slytherins gathered around a table on chairs playing exploding snap. He couldn't help but stare.

"What, you thought that all Slytherins were evil and spent their time plotting and skinning cats?" a girl asked.

She was petite with sandy blonde hair.

"Kind of." he admitted after regaining his wits.

"I'm Kara." she said.

"Michael." he replied.

"Join us!" she said.

Michael was pulled into a game of Exploding Snap with Slytherins, and to his surprise he enjoyed it. Maybe not all Slytherins were evil.

Terry was exploring the area. In the main room he had found a rack full of newspapers. He pulled the closest one off the shelf and examined it.

SEVERUS SNAPE CONFIRMED AS HOGWARTS HEADMASTER

"Severus Snape, long-standing Potions master at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and wizardry, was today appointed headmaster in the most important of several staffing changes at the ancient school. Following the resignation of the previous Muggle Studies teacher, Alecto Carrow will take over the post while her brother, Amycus, fills the position of Defense Against the Dark Arts professor."

"What about food?" Terry asked a Slytherin who was passing him. Blaise Zabini, he believed.

"Snape has gone to convince the house elves to provide us with food. If they do we're gonna have to build another room for eating. We're making it so that people will basically be able to live in here." Zabini said.

"Won't the elves tell the Carrows?"

"Nah. The House Elves really like Professor Snape. They would do anything for him, which extends to Slytherin house. You should see the parties we have." The dark boy grinned before rushing off.

Terry looked around and saw on another wall a board. It was labelled DISAPPEARANCES. On it were pictures of people like Ollivanders and Florean Fortescue. He felt a pang in his heart that reminded him that it was because of Slytherins, but he pushed it away. There was also a poster of Harry Potter that said UNDESIRABLE NO. 1, but graffitied on it were the words BULLSHIT.

He also found a bookshelf in the main room with a few books in it. He pulled one out at random.

Dumbledore was smiling wistfully out of the front cover of a glossy book. Terry had not immediately noticed the curly green writing across his hat, "The Life and Lies of Albus Dumbledore" nor the slightly smaller writing across his chest: "by Rita Skeeter, bestselling author of Armando Dippet: Master or Moron?"

Terry opened the book at random and saw a full-page photograph of two teenage boys, both laughing immoderately with their arms around each other's shoulders. Dumbledore, now with elbow-length hair, had grown a tiny wispy beard. The boy who roared in silent amusement beside Dumbledore had a gleeful, wild look about him. His golden hair fell in curls to his shoulders. Terry put the book back and left to look at the other rooms. All of them were labelled with excellently drawn signs.

He entered the Infirmary to see it empty, and the room adjoining it was potions. It looked just like the potions classroom, but with more expensive supplies and cauldrons. The Arithmancy room was amazing, with books upon books and boards which people could write on. The Ancient Runes room was the same, with hundreds of runes painted onto the walls. All of the rooms seemed to be the same: supplies, board, desks, and decorations. Terry eventually settled himself in the main room to read a book.

Hermione was reading the daily news when she saw word of something that struck fear in her heart.

Muggle-born Registration

"What will I do?" Hermione whispered softly.

"You're not going to enter." Theo said firmly.

"They know I'm a muggle-born." Hermione said.

"And you know the Dark Lord." Pansy smirked.

Hermione's sad face slowly morphed into a devious smirk.

Dear Mr and Mrs Malfoy,

It has come to my attention that a Muggle-Born Registration has been created. I am worried about my own safety, because it is headed by Madame Dolores Umbridge, a woman who has a grudge against me. Would it be possible for me to speak to her or find a way to avoid the registration?

Love,

Hermione

Dear Hermione,

We have managed to delay your hearing time for the Muggle-born Registration until Christmas, when Miss Umbridge will be killed, and one of our men, Yaxley, put in her place. The Dark Lord is already furious at her because she was in possession of a precious belonging of his without his knowledge but let it be stolen by Potter and Weasley.

Do not worry.

Love,

Narcissa

When the others found out about the Muggle-born Registration, all the people concerned panicked.

"Don't worry." Hermione soothed. "As long as you are at school, you can't be hurt by the Muggle-born laws, though you can be hurt by the Carrows."

The Clubhouse was doing wonderfully. They had started lessons for the SM again, and every time a non-Slytherin joined the class they all pretended not to notice. A few more random people from other houses had joined them, and every time they kept the secret and the Slytherins pretended not to was just finishing up her bandaging of Susan Bones after she was injured when Daphne came in.

"Patronus." was the only thing the blonde had to say.

"A patronus is a spirit of pure happiness." Hermione instructed, remembering what Professor Snape had told her all those years ago. "You must concentrate on your happiest memory. Not just something small, but something that has affected who you are and how you grow. Something that truly lives within you."

"Show us yours." Longbottom said from the back.

In the weeks at the Clubhouse, Longbottom had truly grown up. He spent all his time learning Karate with Kara or duelling training dummies that Professor Slughorn had enchanted. He was determined.

"Expecto Patronum." Hermione incanted, and in front of her her patronus appeared.

It was still her thunder phoenix, but brighter than usual.

"What do you think of?" Hannah Abbot asked.

Hermione gave a small smile, and looked at Draco, who was playing Gobstones with Luna.

"Someone I love."

And there was no doubt in anyone's heart that she meant it.

Chapter Text

The first torture happened to Michael Corner. The Carrows had chained some first years in the dungeons for being mudbloods, and Corner had tried to free them. When Hermione found him, he was spasming from repeated use of the Cruciatus and had cuts all over him.

"Angel." she said, quickly levitating Corner into the Clubhouse.

Most people stopped what they were doing when they saw that Corner was hurt, and his girlfriend let out a small scream. Hermione kept walking towards the infirmary, and lay him on a bed. Luckily for him, Madame Pomfrey was in at the time.

"I'll need the Cruciatus." she commanded, and Hermione grabbed a vial of her Cruciatus Potion from one of the shelves.

"Bruise Paste and Blood Replenisher."

Hermione brought both of them.

"I need to heal the rest of his wounds by magic, but none of my spells are working." she said.

Hermione examined the pale boy before recognizing the spell.

"The spell is called Sectumsempra." she said. "Say Vulnera Sanentur while tracing your wand over the cuts."

Soon Corner was healed with only a few pale scars on his torso and was sleeping restfully. The next spell Hermione taught was the Sectumsempra.

"You know the incantation. It is like wielding a sword. Wherever your wand points and how much pressure you put on the spell, that deep it will go."

Soon many people had mastered it. Hermione had only allowed people of OWL year and up to learn it because it was so dangerous.

Autumn rolled through the air, and with it more danger. The Carrows had upped their game, and Madam Pomfrey was now constantly in the Clubhouse healing injured students.

Dean Thomas from Gryffindor had been forced to take permanent residence at the Clubhouse when the Carrows had gone after him for the Muggle-Born Registration. He was provided food by the House Elves and did all his studying from notes and assignments given to him by Seamus Finnigan, who had tried to go into hiding with Thomas but had been convinced not to for his own sake.

Ted Tonks was added to the missing board, and Hermione penned a letter to them when she found out that Nymphadora Tonks was with child.

Leave. You must leave. I do not wish for innocents to be hurt in this war, and the baby in your stomach is innocent. GO. The Dark Lord Will win, and I am trying to protect the children.

-Hermione Granger

Two weeks later it was reported that Remus and Tonks Lupin had been found missing, and Hermione was sent a postcard with a picture of France and nothing else. She smiled.

Ginny Weasley and the Creevey brothers were caught trying to steal the Sword of Gryffindor from the Headmaster's office. They were given detention with Hagrid, and Hermione laughed at their stupidity in thinking they could steal from Professor Snape. He had sent it to Gringotts for safekeeping.

According to Neville Longbottom, who was floating in between Slytherin's Magic and Dumbledore's Army, the army was mostly spent learning spells that were incredibly easy.

The weather grew colder and colder. Christmas was coming. Hermione spent most of her evenings flying, talking to the magical creatures, convincing them to stay neutral when many were going to take sides. When she flew she could avoid the upcoming war. She could just exist. Hermione had spent nearly an hour crying her tears into vials for Madame Pomfrey to use in rare healing potions, and for Professor Slughorn and Headmaster Snape.

It was the last week before Christmas, when Hermione and her friends would go home. She was sitting in DADA watching as the Amycus Carrow tried to teach them all about the Bone Shattering Curse.

"This curse is excellent for dealing with muggles and muggleborns." he sneered in her direction. She smirked cockily. "The pain can make them brain die."

He gave a wheezy cackle and imitated a brain dead person.

Neville Longbottom stood up to glare at him. Hermione could have slapped him for his stupidity. He was going to get himself killed at this rate. He already had a black eye from when he tried stopping the Carrow's from torturing a young Gryffindor boy.

"How much was it used on you then?" he snapped.

Carrow whipped around the glare at him.

"Maybe you'd like to experience it." he leered. "Et conlidam in os!"

Longbottom let out a pained grunt as he clutched his stomach, sliding to the floor. Hermione winced, estimating at least three broken ribs from the angle of the curse and the way Longbottom was clutching his body. Parvati Patil hurried over, not caring about the Carrow's warning glance and lifted him into his seat, before hurrying back to her own.

When class was over Hermione waited for Longbottom and Patil in the corridor.

"Come here." she said impatiently, rummaging through her bag before pulling out her potions pouch. She used the only wandless spell she knew: the Summoning Spell.

"Drink this." she said with barely a glance, handing him a pain reliever.

He drank it.

"Now bite into this." she instructed, giving him a cloth. "This will hurt."

He nodded, determination in his eyes. Parvati Patil held his shoulder.

"Episkey." she said.

His rib snapped into place and he let out a grunt of pain again. Hermione brought two more potions out.

"You'll need to drink this potion every night for a week so the crack in your bone can mend. I've only pulled it back into place. Three drops a day." she instructed, handing him a light blue potion. "And apply this bruise paste over the broken rib, because it will bruise. This has some pain reliever mixed into it."

"Thanks." he said softly, his eyes passing over her without the fear Hermione was used to seeing. She grinned. A week later he became a permanent member of the SM.

Christmas Break had come, and Hermione was on the train, ready to go home. She had on a simple blue sweater and silver pants. Currently they were all laughing at something Pansy had said.

The ownership of the SM had gone over to Chastity, who was staying at Hogwarts for Winter Break.

"Hermione? Hermione?" she heard, jolting her out of her thoughts.

"Yeah?" she asked.

"We're here." Draco said, his silver grey eyes staring at her in concern.

"Oh." Hermione replied, unable to think of anything else. She retrieved her trunk from the rack and dragged it behind her, Crookshanks burrowed in her other arm.

"Draco! Hermione!" Narcissa exclaimed, giving them both tight hugs.

Hermione noticed that she was much paler than before, and saw dark shadows under her eyes.

"Are you-" Hermione started,before being cut off.

"Later." she muttered, her smile still plastered on her face.

"Well?" Hermione asked when they got back home.

Hermione wondered subconsciously when she had started calling Malfoy Manor home. It had always been more a of a home to her. Here, she was accepted.

"The Dark Lord is angry." she whispered. "Potter and Weasley got the help of a muggleborn named Lily Moon who left Hogwarts and was living in the muggle world. She helped them destroy a precious belonging of the Dark Lord before she left to France, where we do not have enough allies to apprehend her."

Hermione sighed. "It is to be expected."

Hermione spent the evening in the gardens with Draco. She had changed into a simple green sweater that exposed both her shoulders and a black skirt with tights. Surprisingly, she didn't feel cold. The sun was out that day, a rare occasion.

"Draco!" Hermione squealed as he tickled her, his warm breath ghosting her face.

Suddenly he leaned down to kiss her hard, and she froze for a second before reacting.

"Come on." he whispered after leaving a small bruise under Hermione's ear.

Hermione felt breathless with exhilaration.

He took her hand and they walked through the garden to a place Hermione had never been to before. There were large white Greek style columns in the area, wrapped with holly and ivy. It was lit up completely, and the floor was strewn with Hermione's favorite flowers: daisies. She had always liked them. They were simple and exquisite.

Her hair was also braided with them courtesy of Draco. Hermione felt like she was in a wonderland. The sun was still setting, there was snow around them, and she was with Draco.

"What is this place?" Hermione wondered out loud, twirling around. When there was no response she asked, " Draco?"

Still hearing nothing she looked around, but he wasn't there. Looking down she saw him kneeling in front of her, holding a small black box.

"Draco, what are you-?" she was cut off.

"Hermione." he said, looking up at her. "You know I love you. I love you from the bottom of my heart and to the moon and beyond. We have spent a lot of time together, making mistakes and growing up. So I hope that this won't be a mistake. Hermione Granger, would you do me the honor of being my wife?"

He flicked open the box. Hermione gasped, putting a hand to her mouth. It was beautiful. Four black diamonds made up a flower in the middle, surrounded by two diamond swirls. The band was plain and silver, but engraved into the bottom was the word LOVE

Hermione couldn't speak. She just smiled through tear filled eyes and tackled him to the ground in a large hug.

"So, is that a yes?" he asked.

She giggled.

"Of course, you prat. I love you."

And the kiss he gave her after, in the cold snow, surrounded by flowers, was nothing more than infinite perfection.

The next day there was a gathering of death eaters. Everyone was without masks and in black robes. Hermione and Narcissa were the only girls there. Hermione had been told not to wear her corset dress like Bellatrix, so she came in on the arm of Draco in a long turquoise dress with a diamond embedded design near her waist and a slit ending above her knee.

"My lady." Draco bowed with a small smirk on his face, bending down to kiss her hand right next to her new ring.

She rolled her eyes before taking his hand and walking into the ballroom with him. Bloody hell. This was going to be a proper execution. She wondered who the guest of honor would be? Looking around, she saw all the main death eaters: the Lestrange brothers, Bellatrix, the Malfoys, Dolohov, Theo, Draco, and her.

After eating two chocolate strawberries, the Dark Lord walked in with the guest of honor. Umbridge. Hermione exchanged a particularly vicious smirk with Draco at the idea of her torture. Hermione floated over there with Draco, blatantly eying the bitch up with a curl of her lip.

Umbridge saw her, and she glared.

"What is she doing here?" Umbridge screeched.

"She's a guest." Lucius answered.

"But- but- she's a mudblood!"

Draco gave an audible growl beside her and Hermione held her arm out so he didn't go and maul her.

"Well, soon, I'll be a Malfoy." she smirked, waving her ring below Umbridge's eyes.

The woman lost it. She started ranting on mudbloods and magic, waving her arms. Her hair got frazzled and the hideous pink robes she was wearing got unkempt. The Dark Lord sighed.

"Someone shut her up." he snapped.

"Sectumsempra." Hermione smirked.

They all watched dispassionately as she bled to death, her dying screams still echoing in the hall.

"There's blood on my carpet." Narcissa pouted, shoving them all into the dining hall.

Hermione gave an apologetic glance, and Narcissa smiled before they all had dinner.

"That was satisfying." Hermione commented that evening, as she and Draco went to their rooms.

"It was." Draco said. "We should send word to the SM."

"We'll just tell them when we get back." Theo grinned, barging into his room from behind them.

"Good night Draco." Hermione giggled.

He gave a large grin before swooping down for a kiss, then leaving.

The rest of Christmas break was uneventful. The Christmas dinner was nice. The Dark Lord left the manor in the middle because he had gotten a signal from somewhere in Godric's Hollow. Hermione got to see Pansy and Daphne again. Blaise was in Italy for his mother's 8th marriage. Pansy and Daphne had squealed when they saw Hermione's ring and Daphne had looked to Theo.

"You're making me look bad mate!" Theo grumbled.

Pansy had found herself a job after school as a fashion designer in Narcissa's fashion line, from which Hermione got most of her clothes. Hermione had sent her a large sketchbook for Christmas with some excellent coloring pencils, and Pansy had already filled half of it with clothing designs.

Daphne had found herself with her own ring from Theo on New Year's Eve: a beautifully made diamond ring with two emeralds around it, and a gold band.

According to Theo, Greg was already looking for a ring for Pansy, and Vince had bought one for Astoria to give her on Valentine's Day that year. Blaise had come back from Italy with Luna who wasalso wearing a ring, a huge grin on her face.

Luna's ring was the most expensive and a Zabini family heirloom: a two tone blue topaz and white sapphire ring surrounded by diamonds and gold swirls. The blonde girl had cut her waist length hair by about three inches.

Hermione felt like everyone was getting ready for the future. They were engaged, had chosen political sides,and were in the midst of a war. She wondered what happened to the naive little eleven year old girl who just hated her parents. Now Hermione had a family, friends, and a future. The world was looking up.

"What's this?" Hermione asked, back at Hogwarts.

"Read it, starting from the Chapter: The Greater Good." Michael Corner said, handing her the book.

Hermione took a look at his grim face and decided that she might as well. She opened up The Life and Lies of Albus Dumbledore, a book she had yet to read.

Now approaching his eighteenth birthday, Dumbledore left Hogwarts in a blaze of glory ¨C Head Boy, Prefect, Winner of the Barnabus Finkley Prize for Exceptional Spell-Casting, British Youth Representative to the Wizengamot, Gold Medal-Winner for Ground-Breaking Contribution to the International Alchemical Conference in Cairo. Dumbledore intended, next, to take a Grand Tour with Elphias "Dogbreath" Doge, the dim-witted but devoted sidekick he had picked up at school.

The two young men were staying at the Leaky Cauldron in London, preparing to depart for Greece the following morning, when an owl arrived bearing news of Dumbledore's mother's death. "Dogbreath" Doge, who refused to be interviewed for this book, has given the public his own sentimental version of what happened next. He represents Kendra's death as a tragic blow, and Dumbledore's decision to give up his expedition as an act of noble self-sacrifice.

Certainly Dumbledore returned to Godric's Hollow at once, supposedly to "care" for his younger brother and sister. But how much care did he actually give them?

"He were a head case, that Aberforth," said Enid Smeek, whose family lived on the outskirts of Godric's Hollow at that time. "Ran wild. 'Course, with his mum and dad gone you'd have felt sorry for him, only he kept chucking goat dung at my head. I don't think Albus was fussed about him. I never saw them together, anyway."

So what was Albus doing, if not comforting his wild young brother? The answer, it seems, is ensuring the continued imprisonment of his sister. For though her first jailer had died, there was no change in the pitiful condition of Ariana Dumbledore. Her very existence continued to be known only to those few outsiders who, like "Dogbreath" Doge, could be counted upon to believe in the story of her "ill health."

Another such easily satisfied friend of the family was Bathilda Bagshot, the celebrated magical historian who has lived in Godric's Hollow for many years. Kendra, of course, had rebuffed Bathilda when she first attempted to welcome the family to the village. Several years later, however, the author sent an owl to Albus at Hogwarts, having been favorably impressed by his paper on trans-species transformation in Transfiguration Today. This initial contract led to acquaintance with the entire Dumbledore family. At the time of Kendra's death, Bathilda was the only person in Godric's Hollow who was on speaking terms with Dumbledore's mother.

Unfortunately, the brilliance that Bathilda exhibited earlier in her life has now dimmed. "The fire's lit, but the cauldron's empty," as Ivor Dillonsby put it to me, or, in Enid Smeek's slightly earthier phrase, "She's nutty as squirrel poo." Nevertheless, a combination of tried-and-tested reporting techniques enabled me to extract enough nuggets of hard fact to string together the whole scandalous story.

Like the rest of the Wizarding world, Bathilda puts Kendra's premature death down to a backfiring charm, a story repeated by Albus and Aberforth in later years. Bathilda also parrots the family line on Ariana, calling her "frail" and "delicate." On one subject, however, Bathilda is well worth the effort I put into procuring Veritaserum, for she, and she alone, knows the full story of the best-kept secret of Albus Dumbledore's life. Now revealed for the first time, it calls into question everything that his admirers believed of Dumbledore: his supposed hatred of the Dark Arts, his opposition into the oppression of Muggles, even his devotion to his own family.

The very same summer that Dumbledore went home to Godric's Hollow, now an orphan and head of the family, Bathilda Bagshot agreed to accept into her home her great-nephew, Gellert Grindelwald.

The name of Grindelwald is justly famous: In a list of Most Dangerous Dark Wizards of All Time, he would miss out on the top spot only because You- Know-Who arrived, a generation later, to steal his crown. As Grindelwald never extended his campaign of terror to Britain, however, the details of his rise to power are not widely known here.

Educated at Durmstrang, a school famous even then for its unfortunate tolerance of the Dark Arts, Grindelwald showed himself quite as precociously brilliant as Dumbledore. Rather than channel his abilities into the attainment of awards and prizes, however, Gellert Grindelwald devoted himself to other pursuits. At sixteen years old, even Durmstrang felt it could no longer turn a blind eye to the twisted experiments of Gellert Grindelwald, and he was expelled.

Hitherto, all that has been known of Grindelwald's next movements is that he "traveled around for some months." It can now be revealed that Grindelwald chose to visit his great-aunt in Godric's Hollow, and that there, intensely shocking though it will be for many to hear it, he struck up a close friendship with none other than Albus Dumbledore.

"He seemed a charming boy to me," babbles Bathilda, "whatever he became later. Naturally I introduced him to poor Albus, who was missing the company of lads his own age. The boys took to each other at once."

They certainly did. Bathilda shows me a letter, kept by her that Albus Dumbledore sent Gellert Grindelwald in the dead of night.

"Yes, even after they'd spent all day in discussion both such brilliant young boys, they got on like a cauldron on fire I'd sometimes hear an owl tapping at Gellert's bedroom window, delivering a letter from Albus! An idea would have struck him and he had to let Gellert know immediately!"

And what ideas they were. Profoundly shocking though Albus Dumbledore's fans will find it, here are the thoughts of their seventeen-year-old hero, as relayed to his new best friend. (A copy of the original letter may be seen on page 463.)

Gellert

Your point about Wizard dominance being FOR THE MUGGLES' OWN GOOD this, I think, is the crucial point. Yes, we have been given power and yes, that power gives us the right to rule, but it also gives us responsibilities over the ruled. We must stress this point, it will be the foundation stone upon which we build. Where we are opposed, as we surely will be, this must be the basis of all our counterarguments. We seize control FOR THE GREATER GOOD. And from this it follows that where we meet resistance, we must use only the force that is necessary and no more. (This was your mistake at Durmstrang! But I do not complain, because if you had not been expelled, we would never have met.)

Albus

Astonished and appalled though his many admirers will be, this letter constitutes the Statute of Secrecy and establishing Wizard rule over Muggles. What a blow for those who have always portrayed Dumbledore as the Muggle-borns' greatest champion! How hollow those speeches promoting Muggle rights seem in the light of this damning new evidence! How despicable does Albus Dumbledore appear, busy plotting his rise to power when he should have been mourning his mother and caring for his sister!

No doubt those determined to keep Dumbledore on his crumbling pedestal will bleat that he did not, after all, put his plans into action, that he must have suffered a change of heart, that he came to his senses. However, the truth seems altogether more shocking.

Barely two months into their great new friendship, Dumbledore and Grindelwald parted, never to see each other again until they met for their legendary duel (for more, see chapter 22). What caused this abrupt rupture? Had Dumbledore come to his senses? Had he told Grindelwald he wanted no more part in his plans? Alas, no.

"It was poor little Ariana dying, I think, that did it," says Bathilda. "It came as an awful shock. Gellert was there in the house when it happened, and he came back to my house all of a dither, told me he wanted to go home the next day. Terribly distressed, you know. So I arranged a Portkey and that was the last I saw of him."

"Albus was beside himself at Ariana's death. It was so dreadful for those two brothers. They had lost everybody except for each other. No wonder tempers ran a little high. Aberforth blamed Albus, you know, as people will under these dreadful circumstances. But Aberforth always talked a little madly, poor boy. All the same, breaking Albus's nose at the funeral was not decent. It would have destroyed Kendra to see her sons fighting like that, across her daughter's body. A shame Gellert could not have stayed for the funeral... He would have been a comfort to Albus, at least...

This dreadful coffin-side brawl, known only to those few who attended Ariana Dumbledore's funeral, raises several questions. Why exactly did Aberforth Dumbledore blame Albus for his sister's death? Was it, as "Batty" pretends, a mere effusion of grief? Or could there have been some more concrete reason for his fury? Grindelwald, expelled from Durmstrang for the near-fatal attacks upon fellow students, fled the country hours after the girl's death, and Albus (out of shame or fear?) never saw him again, not until forced to do so by the pleas of the Wizarding world.

Neither Dumbledore nor Grindelwald ever seems to have referred to this brief boyhood friendship in later life. However, there can be no doubt that Dumbledore delayed, for some five years of turmoil, fatalities, and disappearances, his attack upon Gellert Grindelwald. Was it lingering affection for the man or fear of exposure as his once best friend that caused Dumbledore to hesitate? Was it only reluctantly that Dumbledore set out to capture the man he was once so delighted he had met?

And how did the mysterious Ariana die? Was she the inadvertent victim of some Dark rite? Did she stumble across something she ought not to have done, as the two young men sat practicing for their attempt at glory and domination? Is it possible that Ariana Dumbledore was the first person to die "for the greater good"?

"Damn." was all Hermione had to say.

"Grindelwald" Corner said again, looking at her from the opposite couch. "I always worshipped Dumbledore, though I thought his favoritism for Gryffindor was too much. This changed my opinion completely. What if he wasn't fit to be Headmaster?

"Michael," Hermione said grimly, "I've been asking myself that for years."

Chapter Text

Time went on. Madam Pomfrey was now almost permanently in the SM Infirmary tending to the tortured students, and their cries could be heard daily. Hermione wished she could do something but knew that if she did anything it would be seen as disloyal to the Dark Lord.

Susan Bones and Hannah Abbot, two Hufflepuffs, had taken to baking different types of cookies every day for the Clubhouse with the help of the house elves. Hermione's personal favorite were the snickerdoodles and ginger snaps.

After an incident involving some torture and a save by the SM, Parvati Patil and Lavender Brown from Gryffindor joined them. Hermione remembered it well. She had been talking with Michael Corner, Susan Bones, and Dean Thomas, each the unofficial leaders for their houses in the SM, when they came across the Carrow's torturing two Gryffindors.

Hermione immediately pulled out her wand and stunned the Carrows. Susan proceeded to viciously kick Amycus in the balls.

"Hey." Hermione asked, crouching down to the bleeding girls. "Are you alright?"

Both were passed out. When they came to they were in the SM Infirmary. The Carrow's had left them with permanent scars on their faces, arching from the bridge of their nose over to the side of their jaw. Hermione and Madam Pomfrey, even with all their potions, could do nothing to hide the scars.

"But I'm ugly!" Brown had whimpered when she saw it, tears leaking from her face.

Michael sat on the chair next to her bed.

"Look at this." he told her, pointing to a series of long lines on his back. "The Carrows did that to me. At first I thought I would never be able to swim again. Then I realized that acting ashamed only makes it worse. I'm proud of these scars because I stood up to those brutes. Those scars just mean that you were placed in Gryffindor for a good reason, because you were brave."

Both girls became permanent initiates, and with Patil's sister Padma started creating a line of beauty products using charms and potions. Both wore their scars with pride.

Easter Break was coming up, and to raise spirits, Narcissa was holding an Easter Ball for all the Hogwart's 7th years, though younger students could be invited as dates. The Dark Lord would be attending in his natural form, since no one knew how he looked like, to scout out potential initiates.

Blaise had found his job some time in early February, before Valentines Day. He had bought an empty building and was working on renovating it into a Nightclub, which he was calling Della Vita. He had created a giant dancing floor, and now spent all his time listening to music to play there.

Blaise and Luna had finally put on their engagement rings. Hermione had never seen the blonde happier, a stark contrast from when they found the lonely girl on the train in 5th year.

Pansy, with her new position as Fashion Designer for Cisstastic, was making dresses for all the girls going to the Easter Ball, as long as they payed for it. Hermione's was beautiful. Her dress was blood red, with a golden halter neck design. Her belt was also golden, thin with leaves on it. The skirt flowed down with no design, and a piece of cloth wrapped around her hands. A golden headpiece completed it.

She was of course with Draco, who wore black robes with blood red trimming. Luna, Pansy, and Daphne wore the same dress style, but in blue with silver, purple with silver, and green with gold respectively.

The last day of Easter Break ended up with Hermione in DADA. She hated the class with vigor now.

"We'll be practicing the Imperius today." Carrow told them with a sickly grin.

Hermione resisted the urge to retch at his depravities. She eyed Draco and he nodded subtly. Carrow brought in a dozen cowering first years. She walked next to Lavender and subtly slipped her a note.

Fake it

Lavender nodded to say that she understood, and slipped the note to Parvati, who then slipped it to Dean and Seamus.

"Start!" Carrow commanded, unholy glee on his face.

"Imperius." Hermione murmured, slipping into the young boy's mind.

Fake it. Do anything you want, and I'll make it seem like it's me. Everyone will do that.

He gave her a wide eyed stare before doing some yoga moves in positions that Hermione had never been able to reach. The other kids all started doing random things, while Seamus Finnigan gave an outright grin.

"Good." Carrow grumbled, since none of the children seemed hurt. "Dismissed."

"Are you guys alright?" Dean Thomas asked once they were out of earshot.

Hermione recognized three of them from the SM, but the rest were new to her.

"Yeah. But they made us to bad things. They made us hold our breath until we passed out. We had to jump around, and squeeze our hands on chains until we got blisters."

Hermione clenched her fists, cursing the Carrows.

"Just be careful." she sighed, before moving away. "You know who to go to if you need help."

Easter Break had soon arrived, and Hermione welcomed Malfoy Manor after the hell that Carrows had made Hogwarts. Longbottom, and the Patil sisters had been forced to take permanent refuge in the SM Clubhouse, and Kara spent a lot of time trying to cheer them up.

Hermione relaxed for an evening, giggling with Pansy, Daphne, and Luna as they got ready. Luna was the only 6th year invited by Blaise, though Chastity was also invited by Vince. Hermione laughed at something Daphne said as she slipped on her red dress, tightening the gold leaf belt.

Luna, who was skilled with hairstyling, pulled her hair up in a bun, leaving a few curly chocolate strands to frame her face. A golden headpiece completed it, before Daphne did her makeup. Golden lids accented with red, and deep red lips. Her face was brightened with some face cream made by the Patil sisters, and Hermione added golden dangling earrings. A simple golden bracelet and golden slip ons completed the look. She looked amazing.

"He'll love you." Pansy giggled, referring to Draco.

Hermione smirked as she did Pansy's nails. Pansy's dress was a version of hers, but in black and silver. She was painting Pansy's nails silver, and Luna was pulling Pansy's thick black hair into the bun. Daphne was in the changing room pulling on her purple and silver dress, while Luna was already in her blue and gold dress. Soon Pansy's nails were done and Hermione moved onto Luna with some gold polish to match hers. Daphne was getting her makeup done by Pansy, and already had her hair done. Soon all four girls were done, and they walked out to the balcony where they would go one by one to meet their fiancees.

Draco's face when he saw her descend the stairs was priceless. Hermione thought that gaping was a very manly look on him. She smirked, before taking his hand and leading him into the ballroom while he attempted to regain his composure.

"Come on." she smirked, leading him to one of the floating platters of Elf Wine. She got a cup and handed Draco one, who by now had recovered. They went over to Lavender, Padma, and Parvati, all of whom had come together as friends and without dates. They were chatting with Michael Corner and his girlfriend Lisa Turpin.

"Hermione!" Lisa exclaimed, giving her a light hug. "Amazing ball."

"You should thank Mrs Malfoy." Hermione grinned, taking a sip of her wine. "You look lovely."

"Thanks." Lisa grinned. "I had my dress made by these three." she gestured to Lavender, Parvati, and Padma.

"We got the start up for our business!" Parvati squealed, jumping in.

"Three powerful girls with their own cosmetic and clothing lines." Lavender grinned. "I made these dresses myself, and Padma taught me how to make them. She handles most of the financial stuff."

"Congratulations." Hermione smiled, Draco leaving her to talk to Michael.

She took a good look at their dresses. They were identical pink dresses, but while Hermione wasn't fond of pink, it looked good. The shade was a purple pink, like magenta. The dresses were high necked and tight strapped, with sheer necklines interwoven with black ribbon until the cleavage. Silver buttons connected to it and went all the way down to the black and magenta belt. The dresses had nearly no sleeves, and the tight fabric wrapped around their bodies and curves, moving with them, so the small slits up the sides showed their silver stilettos. All of them had their hair in a wavy curly style that pushed the hair back but kept it high in a bun yet loose, and their makeup was simple.

"You guys look good." she said finally.

Before more could she said she felt arms encircle her waist and pull her to the dance floor.

"Draco!" she squealed softly, eyes wide.

He smirked like always, and rested his hands on her waist.

"You look so beautiful all I want to do is snog you senseless." he murmured in her ear.

She shivered a little, wrapping her hands tighter around his neck. He smirked, knowing his words had the desired effect. Before they could do more the gates opened and a group of dirty men dressed in black came in, holding two hostages.

"Scabior." Mrs Malfoy's voice was even. "Why the hell have you brought two random people into my home on the day of the Easter Ball?"

Even though her voice was calm, they could hear the anger in it. The room was silent.

"Pardon us ma'am, but you see these two boys here, well,-"

"I- don't- care." Narcissa snarled softly, her mermaid style emerald gown shimmering as she stalked towards him. "Get out of my sight. I don't care who they are. Put them in the dungeons or release them. Just- get- out."

Hermione looked closely at the two dirty boys. One had reddish hair, the other black. Both were dirty, and one wore glasses. She still barely recognized them. Before more could be said, a house elf popped in out of nowhere and took the two boys away.

"Get out." Narcissa commanded contemptuously.

The cowering men fled. Hermione giggled, and the ball resumed.

"Who were those people?" Daphne wondered.

"Two creatures, a stag and a dog, on the run from the snake." Luna said calmly.

Hermione stared at her for a second before her eyes widened. Potter and Weasley!

"Fuck." Pansy cursed softly, eloquent as always.

"This will be kept secret." Blaise said grimly.

"Agreed." Theo said, before they left to enjoy the party.

Hermione continued her dancing with Draco, laughing, having Elf Wine, and talking. Ultimately they stumbled upstairs after, ending up in Draco's room.

"I had fun." Hermione said softly, still holding onto him.

"Me too." he whispered, leaning closer, before completely closing the gap and kissing her.

It was fast and furious. Hermione was pushed onto the bed and he descended onto her throat as she ran her hands over his shoulders. Eventually, as he got to the line of her dress, he stopped.

"We have to stop." he said reluctantly.

"I know." she whispered, getting up and going to her room.

The rest of break was normal. Hermione spent lots of time with Draco and Theo, and was even coerced into going on a broom once. Soon break was over, and Hermione was back at school. More like hell. The SM had been kicked up a notch and more deadly spells were being taught. Kara had now mastered the Bombarda, and when the Carrow's office was blown up, nobody chose to comment on Kara's vicious grin.

More students had joined, and the seventh, sixth, and fifth years had started digging a passage out of school for safe haven if the war came to Hogwarts. They used curses like the flesh eating curse on the dirt to eat away at the dirt, making tunnels and lighting them. Hermione knew there was a chance anti apparition wards would be put up, so they kept digging into the Forbidden Forest and out.

Hermione had little sleep these days, what with classes, homework, teaching, Potions, digging, and healing. She used glamours on her eyes to hide the bags, but it was hard to hide the exhaustion. When Pansy found out, she was forced to sleep for an entire weekend. Blaise had laughed for hours on that until Luna knocked him out.

"Come on!" Hermione groaned, looking out at the Scottish countryside. "Professor Snape should be back!"

She was sitting on a hill in the countryside, enjoying the cool wind. Her hair flowed behind her, and she felt refreshed.

"I am." he said from behind her.

Hermione nearly jumped out of her shoes. She glared half heartedly at her friends who were laughing and got up, brushing her white and black skirt off. They walked back through the tunnel ,the apparition having worked. Portkeys to get out were next.

First everyone in the SM was tasked with collecting all the rubbish they could find. Old rope, parchment, empty ink bottles, broken quills, all of it. Then Professor Snape and Slughorn started enchanting them for Nott Manor, the safe house they had decided on. Theo had opened it only to the Portkeys made, and was having his house elves, Twinky, Dilly, Bonka, and Dolly furnish the house with food, games, and books.

Theo had been reluctant to open Nott Manor up, but when no other safe house was available for the young students he volunteered. Neither he nor Quincy had been there since their father died, and Theo had collapsed on the ground sobbing when he saw the manor again, according to Daphne, who had comforted him.

Hermione was still tired. She had finished her mind potion after long work, and was going to submit it at the Potions Conference. She had been unable to go last year due to the scary climate, and the fact that the conference was called off.

Professor Slughorn and Snape came nearly daily to help her with brewing war and healing potions, and she had come to rely on them. Professor Slughorn had shown himself to be a good person, and most of his potion lessons now taught healing or war potions. He also didn't take the vials from the students, telling them to keep it.

Hermione now went everywhere with her potions pouch, which she had expanded to add compartments. Books, clothes, knives, everything went in there. She had made matching pouches for all of her friends, but was unable to create them for all of Slytherin. She didn't have enough power.

Currently Hermione was in DADA, cursing her bad luck.

"The Killing Curse!" Carrow said in glee.

Hermione imagined torturing him.

"We'll be testing it on rats." he said, pulling out a cage of rats.

Hermione couldn't believe it. She looked at her classmates faces. They all looked grim, and she realized that they would do it. By the end of class all the rats were dead.

"I can't believe you actually did it." Hermione stated in hushed tones to the Hufflepuffs.

"He tortures our friends. I just imagined it was him." Susan said.

Hermione never thought she'd hear the day when a Hufflepuff said something like that.

"Oh come on!" Hermione laughed, giving Theo a slight shove. She was in Hogsmeade, and the weather was finally cooling down. Enough so that she could wear a loose grey skirt and gold sweater.

"Honeydukes!" Luna squealed, grabbing Blaise's hand and pulling him there.

He followed with a laugh.

"Come on." Draco muttered, grabbing her hand.

"Sugar berries." Daphne read, looking at a new sweet.

"Try them!" Luna exclaimed, holding a new box.

Hermione picked a strawberry out and bit into it. Her eyes rolled back into her head. These were amazing! Hermione felt like all her senses were on fire. It was so sweet, and tangy, and sour at the same time.

"I found my new favorite sweet." Pansy smirked, holding up a half bitten blackberry.

Hermione bought herself a box, as did her friends. Draco's favorite was the strawberry like her, while Blaise and Theo preferred the blueberry. Luna and Daphne liked the raspberry.

"I'll buy a few boxes for the SM." Blaise mentioned with a grin.

When they left Hermione had to shrink the boxes and place them in Blaise's bag, before they went to The Three Broomsticks. As a legal adult, Hermione got to sip Firewhiskey. It was excellent, and tasted like fire. The others also tasted some.

"Well now we're truly adults!" Blaise cheered.

Pansy rolled her eyes. Hermione giggled.

"Luna isn't an adult yet." Draco pointed out, motioning to Luna, who was sipping from Blaise's firewhiskey.

"The Nargles say it's alright." Luna said serenely.

Draco had no response to that.

Chapter Text

The Caterwauling Charm had been set off. That was all Hermione knew, since she had an in with the Death Eaters posted in Hogsmeade. She immediately knew that it had to be Potter. It was time.

With Luna's illusions they sent messages to all of the SM to get to the clubhouse. In 15 minutes, Michael Corner and Susan Bones responded, saying that Carrow had trapped them all in the Ravenclaw Common Room. Hermione hurried over there with Draco, Luna, and Pansy. They managed to sneak past Carrow, but found that once they were inside their disillusionment charms broke, so they had to hide in the shadows. The room looked deserted, but the students were there.

The deserted Ravenclaw common room was a wide, circular room, airier than any Hermione had ever seen at Hogwarts. Graceful arched windows punctuated the walls, which were hung with blue-and-bronze silks. By day, the Ravenclaws would have a spectacular view of the surrounding mountains. The ceiling was domed and painted with stars, which were echoed in the midnight-blue carpet. There were tables, chairs, and bookcases, and in a niche opposite the door stood a tall statue of white marble.

They started creeping towards Michael, Lisa, Terry, Susan, and Hannah, but before they could do more the door to the common room opened. No one came in, but suddenly a cloak was pulled off two people, revealing Cho Chang and Harry Potter. Hermione stifled a gasp at the dark haired boy. He looked dirty, with his hair unkempt and long. It looked like he was kept clean only by cleaning charms.

Potter strode up to the statue of Rowena Ravenclaw, examining her like he was looking for something.

"'Wit beyond measure is man's greatest treasure.'" he read.

Hermione wondered at his stupidity in speaking out loud or even taking off the cloak. Sometimes, he made the Death Eaters jobs too easy.

"Which makes you pretty skint, witless," said a cackling voice.

Potter whirled around, slipped off the plinth, and landed on the floor. The sloping-shouldered figure of Alecto Carrow was standing before him, and even as Potter raised his wand, she pressed a stubby forefinger to the skull and snake branded on her forearm.

Susan nearly went forward to help, but Draco held her back with a warning glance.

Hermione planned to stun Carrow from the shadows, but before she could do anything Cho Chang raised her wand and stunned her; she hit the ground so hard that the glass in the bookcases tinkled.

"I've never Stunned anyone except in our D.A. lessons," said Chang, sounding rather scared of herself. "That was noisier than I thought it would be."

And sure enough, the ceiling had begun to tremble Scurrying, echoing footsteps were growing louder from behind the door leading to the dormitories. Chang's spell had woken Ravenclaws sleeping above.

Potter and Chang hurried back under the cloak.

The door opened and a stream of Ravenclaws, all in their nightclothes, flooded into the common room. there were gasps and cries of surprise as they saw Alecto lying there unconscious. Slowly, they shuffled in around her, a savage beast that might wake at any moment and attack them. Then one brave little first-year darted up to her and prodded her backside with his big toe.

"I think she might be dead!" he shouted with delight.

"Sadly not." Michael said, emerging from the shadows. "Simply stunned."

"Do we obliviate or kill her?" Pansy asked, also emerging.

"I'm partial to kill." Lisa said, a glare marring her usually delicate but sharp features.

"We can't kill her yet." Hermione said in exasperation. "If we want to kill both the Carrows we use her as bait."

"Fine, but I call the final blow on Alecto." Michael growled.

"I want Amycus. I've had enough of his comments on how I'm a woman and a mudblood. Bastard." Hermione said.

There was a rap on the common room door and every Ravenclaw froze. From the other side, Hermione heard the soft, musical voice that issued from the eagle door knocker: "Where do Vanished objects go?"

"Everyone back!" Draco said, ushering all the young students into a corner. He quickly helped a small Hufflepuff up and back.

"I dunno, do I? Shut it!" snarled an uncouth voice that Harry knew was that of the Carrow brother , Amycus, "Alecto? Alecto? Are you there? Have you got him? Open the door!"

The Ravenclaws and Hufflepuffs were whispering amongst themselves, terrified. Then without warning, there came a series of loud bangs, as though somebody was firing a gun into the door.

Susan and Hannah quickly went over, calming the young students.

"ALECTO! If he comes, and we haven't got Potter, he'll kill us! ANSWER ME!" Amycus bellowed, shaking the door for all he was worth, but still it did not open. The Ravenclaws were all backing away, and some of the most frightened began scampering back up the staircase to their beds. Then, just as Hermione was wondering whether she ought not to blast open the door and Stun Amycus before the Death Eater could do anything else, a second, most familiar voice rang out beyond the door.

"May I ask what you are doing, Professor Carrow?"

Hermione cursed silently, moving back into the safety of the shadows with the other older students.

"Trying to get through this damned door!" shouted Amycus. "Go and get Flitwick! Get him to open it, now!"

"But isn't your sister in there" asked Professor McGonagall. "Didn't Professor Flitwick let her in earlier this evening, at your urgent request? Perhaps she could open the door for you? Then you needn't wake up half the castle."

"She ain't answering, you old besom! You open it! Darn! Do it, now!"

"Certainly, if you wish it," said Professor McGonagall, with awful coldness, There was a genteel tap of the knocker and the musical voice asked again.

"Where do Vanished objects go?"

"Into non being, which is to say, everything," replied Professor McGonagall.

"Nicely phrased," replied the eagle door knocker, and the door swung open.

The few Ravenclaws and Hufflepuffs who had remained behind sprinted for the stairs as Amycus burst over the threshold, brandishing his wand. Hunched like his sister, he had a pallid, doughy face and tiny eyes, which fell at once on Alecto, sprawled motionless on the floor. He let out a yell of fury and fear.

"What've they done, the little whelps?" he screamed. "I'll Cruciate the lot of 'em till they tell me who did it and what's the Dark Lord going to say?" he shrieked, standing over his sister and smacking himself on the forehead with his fist, "We haven't got him, and they've gone and killed her!"

"She's only Stunned," said Professor McGonagall impatiently, who had stooped down to examine Alecto. "She'll be perfectly all right."

"No she bludgering well won't!" bellowed Amycus. "Not after the Dark Lord gets hold of her! She's gone and sent for him, I felt me Mark burn, and he thinks we've got Potter!"

"'Got Potter'?" said Professor McGonagall sharply, "What do you mean, 'got Potter'?"

"He told us Potter might try and get inside Ravenclaw Tower, and to send for him if we caught him!"

"Why would Harry Potter try to get inside Ravenclaw Tower! Potter belongs in my House!"

"We was told he might come in here!" said Carrow. "I dunno why, do I?"

Professor McGonagall stood up and her beady eyes swept the room. Twice they passed right over the place where Hermione, Draco, Pansy, Susan, Hannah, Terry, Lisa, and Michael stood.

"We can push it off on the kids," said Amycus, his pig like face suddenly crafty. "Yeah, that's what we'll do. We'll say Alecto was ambushed by the kids, them kids up there," he looked up at the starry ceiling toward the dormitories " and we'll say they forced her to press her Mark, and that's why he got a false alarm... He can punish them. Couple of kids more or less, what's the difference?"

Terry had to be restrained from going after Carrow in his fury. Clearly McGonagall felt the same way.

"Only the difference between truth and lie, courage and cowardice," said Professor McGonagall, who had turned pale, "a difference, in short, which you and your sister seem unable to appreciate. But let me make one thing very clear. You are not going to pass off your many ineptitudes on the students of Hogwarts. I shall not permit it."

"Excuse me?"

Amycus moved forward until he was offensively close to Professor McGonagall, his face within inches of hers. She refused to back away, but looked down at him as if he were something disgusting she had found stuck to the lavatory seat.

"It's not a case of what you'll permit, Minerva McGonagall. Your time's over. It's us what's in charge here now, and you'll back me up or you'll pay the price."

And he spat in her face.

Potter pulled the Cloak off himself, raised his wand, and said, "You shouldn't have done that."

As Amycus spun around, Potter shouted, "Crucio!"

The Death Eater was lifted off his feet. He writhed through the air like a drowning man, thrashing and howling in pain, and then, with a crunch and a shattering of glass, he smashed into the front of a bookcase and crumpled, insensible, to the floor. "I see what Bellatrix meant," said Potter, "you need to really mean it."

"Potter!" whispered Professor McGonagall, clutching her heart. "Potter, you're here! What? How?" She struggled to pull herself together. "Potter, that was foolish!"

"He spat at you," said Harry.

"Potter, I, that was very gallant of you, but don't you realize ?"

"Yeah, I do," Harry assured her. Somehow her panic steadied him. "Professor McGonagall, Voldemort's on the way."

"Oh, are we allowed to say the name now?" asked Chang with an air of interest, pulling off the Invisibility Cloak. The appearance of a second outlaw seemed to overwhelm Professor McGonagall, who staggered backward and fell into a nearby chair, clutching at the neck of her old tartan dressing gown.

"I don't think it makes any difference what we call him," Potter told Chang. "He already knows where I am."

"You must flee," whispered Professor McGonagall, "Now Potter, as quickly as you can!"

"He's not going anywhere." Hermione smirked, strolling out of the shadows.

Potter and McGonagall raised their wands. Hermione eyed them with disinterest, though on the inside she didn't know if any of them could defeat the Head of Gryffindor.

"Nice job with Carrow." she smirked. "But let me show you how it's really done."

"Rennervate." she stated, bending over the unconscious siblings.

Before they could do more she said, "Crucio."

They writhed on the ground in throes of pain, screams echoing across the room.

"I've been waiting to hear that the entire year." Terry said, eyeing them with pleasure.

"Terry?" Potter asked, eying him with confusion.

"Hmm." Hermione said, looking at the Carrows. "Alecto is yours Michael. Sectumsempra."

Hermione watched with savage pleasure as Amycus Carrow bled onto the ground, his screams turning into moans.

"Avada Kedavra." she said finally, and he slumped down, silent.

"Y-y-you just killed him!" Chang exclaimed.

"He's a bastard." Hermione said dismissively. "Besides, we still need to blow him up! Glacius."

Carrow's body turned to ice. He turned to face the students.

"So, who wants to blow him up?" she asked.

"Me!" Kara raised her hand.

Hermione wondered how she got there.

"How'd you get here?" Draco asked.

"I followed you." she replied. "I have a message from the rest of the SM. The Clubhouse is on lockdown and the snake statuette warded to those not bearing Luna's phoenix mark."

"Ah well." Hermione shrugged, motioning to the frozen Carrow. "Blow him up!"

With a bombarda there were pieces of Carrow splattered around the room.

'You guys tortured him. I'm just gonna kill her." Michael snorted, staring at Carrow.

"Imperio." he whispered. "Stand up. Kill yourself." was his command.

Soon both the Carrows were dead. Lisa quickly vanished to bodies.

"You just killed them!" McGonagall exclaimed again.

"And?" Susan asked, facing McGonagall with her hands on her hips. "They were bastards. Most of us have permanent scars now because of them."

"What are you doing associating with them?" Potter asked, facing the Slytherins with clear distaste.

"They're our friends." Hannah cut through him with a snap. "Come on guys."

They all left with sneers.

"Hello." Slughorn said after entering a good half hour later. "I'm afraid that the new Headmistress needs you in the Great Hall. Hufflepuffs ,Ravenclaws and Gryffindors will have to go to their own houses I'm afraid."

"Headmistress?" Harley, one of the first years asked.

"They have kicked Headmaster Snape out, I'm afraid." Slughorn sighed.

Hermione clenched her hands into fists. He did nothing!

"I'm here actually." she heard his deep voice coming from the shadows.

"Professor!" They all exclaimed in relief.

"It will take more to kick me out of this school." he sneered. "The Dark Lord is coming to Hogwarts. Evacuation will start."

Hermione was really relieved. They all walked to the Great Hall, passing many other students and teachers along the way. All students 5th year and up took seats next to students 4th year and down. Hermione was proud to see Chastity and Astoria next to students of their own. Chastity gripped Quincy's hand tightly. That was a new development.

The enchanted ceiling of the Great Hall was dark and scattered with stars, and below it the four long House tables were lined with disheveled students, some in traveling cloaks, others in dressing gowns. Here and there shone the pearly white figures of the school ghosts. Every eye, living and dead was fixed upon Professor McGonagall, who was speaking from the raised platform at the top of the Hall. Behind her stood the remaining teaches, including the palomino centaur, Firenze, and the members of the Order of the Phoenix who had arrived to fight.

"...evacuation will be overseen by Mr. Filch and Madam Pomfrey. Prefects, when I give the word, you will organize your House and take your charges in orderly fashion to the evacuation point."

Hermione sneered. As if they would be taking the evacuation point from her. Theirs was much better and more efficient.

Many of the students looked petrified. Ernie Macmillan stood up at the Hufflepuff table and shouted; "And what if we want to stay and fight?"

There was a smattering of applause.

"If you are of age, you may stay." said Professor McGonagall.

"What about our things?" called a girl at the Ravenclaw table. "Our trunks, our owls?"

"We have no time to collect possessions." said Professor McGonagall. "The important thing is to get you out of here safely."

"Where's Professor Snape?" shouted a girl from the Slytherin table.

"He has, to use the common phrase, done a bunk." replied Professor McGonagall and a great cheer erupted from mostly the Gryffindors, though a few Ravenclaws and Hufflepuffs also cheered.

"We have already placed protection around the castle," Professor McGonagall was saying, "but it is unlikely to hold for very long unless we reinforce it. I must ask you, therefore, to move quickly and calmly, and do as your prefects say."

But her final words were drowned as a different voice echoed throughout the Hall. It was high, cold, and clear. There was no telling from where it came. It seemed to issue from the walls themselves. Like the monster it had once commanded, it might have lain dormant there for centuries.

"I know that you are preparing to fight." There were screams amongst the students, some of whom clutched each other, looking around in terror for the source of the sound. "Your efforts are futile. You cannot fight me. I do not want to kill you. I have great respect for the teachers of Hogwarts. I do not want to spill magical blood."

There was silence in the Hall now, the kind of silence that presses against the eardrums, that seems too huge to be contained by walls.

"Give me Harry Potter," said Voldemort's voice, "and they shall not be harmed. Give me Harry Potter and I shall leave the school untouched. Give me Harry Potter, and you will be rewarded."

"You have until midnight. The battle will commence in the Great Hall, leaving the rest of the school untouched. "

The silence swallowed them all again. Every head turned, every eye in the place seemed to have found Potter, who was standing on the side.

"Well, that was excellent Minerva, but my students and I shall be leaving." Professor Snape's dry voice came. He had taken down the disillusionment charm.

"You left!" McGonagall exclaimed.

"I would never abandon my students." he replied. "You may not know this, but me and my Slytherins have been host to a group fighting the Carrows and helping injured students."

"That's impossible!" Ron Weasley exclaimed.

"They have." Professor Slughorn stood up, his walrus mustache sticking out.

"I've been with them." Madam Pomfrey said.

"They've helped us." Susan said softly, rising from the Hufflepuff table. "They've been our friends, and have been open to people from all houses."

"I don't know about you guys, but Ravenclaw voted neutral. Except for a few people, all of us are going with the Slytherins to a safe house we set up a month ago."

"And Hufflepuff." Hannah said.

"Gryffindor didn't vote, but I'm going with you." Parvati stood, head held high.

"Parvati!" Potter choked out, staring at her.

"They've been my friends Harry. I want to live. They have a tunnel out of Hogwarts for miles. They have portkeys to a safe house that will last months of siege easily, and is the size of a Manor. They've been healing our injuries, stopping the Carrows, being good!"

"Did you know they have a safe house set up?" Justin Flinch Fletchley asked. "I've been hiding there for months with Dean Thomas and Seamus Finnigan, on the run. We have food, water, books, and we still get our homework assignments."

"I've spent my whole life looking at Slytherins as monsters, but this year they proved to be like us." Thomas stood. "Human. I'll be going with them. Sorry Harry."

Hermione was moved. All her hard work had paid off. These people, who she had come to see as friends regardless of blood status like her, would live in the upcoming war.

"OK!" She shouted. "The Carrows are dead! Everyone in the SM, report to the Clubhouse. First people through the tunnel will be the first years, second years, and so on. As you enter the tunnel there will be a table with all the Portkeys. The moment you're out of the tunnel portkey to the safe house. If anyone is staying to fight, say so NOW! Myself, Draco, Vincent, and Gregory are the only Slytherins staying."

"Hufflepuffs go!" Justin shouted, and the Hufflepuffs, Ravenclaws, Slytherins, and even some Gryffindors left the hall.

What was left were all of the Order of the Phoenix, a few Gryffindors, sixteen Ravenclaws, and nine Hufflepuffs.

"Bye!" Hermione waved with a large smirk, before hopping off the table she was sitting on.

They could only watch as most of their army left. Hermione laughed gleefully.

"What task has he given you?" Hermione asked, he being the Dark Lord.

"Follow Potter with Vince and Greg. You are to report straight to fight with Bellatrix."

"Draco?" Hermione asked. "Good luck."

He bent down to give her a kiss, and she held on, knowing that they might not live.

"I love you." she whispered raggedly against his mouth.

"Love you too." he mumbled, before flashing her a small grin and racing off to find Vince and Greg.

"Pansy?" Gregory Goyle asked, looking at the petite brunette that he loved.

"I love you." she said, stealing his line.

"Love you too." he whispered, giving her a chaste kiss.

She stared at him sadly as he left.

"He'll be alright." Daphne reassured her, taking her hand. "Now let's evacuate!"

"Vince?" Astoria asked her boyfriend.

"Yeah Stori?"

"Don't die." she stated.

Astoria was surprised at her feelings for the boy. When she was younger, she thought he was an idiotic oaf but he had proved himself to be thoughtful and kind to her. His fat had also turned into muscles, and she found herself loving him. He was like a teddy bear: you couldn't help but love him.

"I never really proposed to you, so…" he trailed off, mumbling.

"It doesn't matter." she promised, giving him a kiss.

"Stori?" he called. "Take this. It was my mom's before she died."

He gave her the engraved metal band he always wore on his wrist, with hippogriffs displayed on it.

"Good luck." she said, flipping her long dark hair behind her with a grin, before racing off to find Chastity and Quincy.

Hermione had used her dark mark charm to apparate to the Death Eater army.

"Little mudblood!" Bellatrix exclaimed, though it was with fondness.

"Bellatrix." Hermione said warmly, before turning and curtseying. "My Lord."

"Come, Hermione Granger." he said. "Join our ranks."

Hermione took her place next to Bellatrix, Lucius, and Narcissa. She noticed that the Dark Lord didn't have his usual snakelike glamours on, and looked like a normal man. She supposed this was the final battle. He didn't need it.

The Final Battle.

That was a phrase Hermione never thought she would hear. She was eleven, and knew she was fighting in a war. She fought and she helped people in the SM. She cared. But she never thought the moment would arrive when it was all over. She was so used to it. Running, fighting, healing. After this it would be over. No more war. It seemed like such a foreign concept.

Then it started. With a motion the Dark lord made everyone was bombarding the wards around Hogwarts. Hermione shot a few spells here and there but mostly conserved her energy. After about fifteen minutes the wards collapsed with a large boom!

A few death eaters toed the ward line cautiously. When nothing happened a resounding cheer rose up.

"The Great Hall!" The Dark Lord roared. With that, they started walking.

The Battle of Hogwarts had begun.

Chapter Text

Draco had been following Potter for a while. Weasley had taken the muggleborn Lily Moon and disappeared somewhere else, but his goal was Potter, who seemed to be ascending to the 7th floor: the Room of Requirement.

He had gone to this room many times over his sixth year. He had depended on it for the Vanishing Cabinet. Sometimes he slept in here, so tired was he from working at the Cabinet. He watched as Potter entered the Room of Hidden Things, and watched as two redheads left the room.

"Disillusionment charms." he whispered to Vincent and Greg.

The furor of the battle preparing Order died the moment they crossed the threshold and closed the door behind them: All was silent. They were in a place the size of a cathedral with the appearance of a city, its towering walls built of objects hidden by thousands of long-gone students.

Following Potter, Weasley, and Moon, who had come back with Weasley, they sped off in adjacent aisles; Draco could hear the others' footsteps echoing through the towering piles of junk, of bottles, hats, crates, chairs, books, weapons, broomsticks, bats...

Deeper and deeper into the labyrinth they went, following Potter and his gang as they looked for something. His breath was loud in his ears, and then his very soul seemed to shiver. Potter stretched his hand out to grab a dusty tiara off a high shelf.

"Stop right there Potter." he said, right before Potter could grab the tiara off the shelf.

Potter skidded to a halt and turned around. Vince and Greg were standing behind him, shoulder to shoulder, wands pointing right at Potter.

"That's far enough Potter. And from what I know about you, that's not your wand."

"Got it off a snatcher." Potter panted. "Mine snapped."

Weasley and Moon had rushed off to gods knows where, and he motioned for Vincent and Gregory to look for them.

"So, how come you three aren't with Voldemort?" asked Potter.

"We're gonna be rewarded," said Vince. "He gave us a task. Told us to stop you. We'll be rewarded."

"Good plan," said Potter in mock admiration. He began edging slowly backward toward the place where the tiara sat lopsided on the bust.

"How did you get in here?" Potter asked.

"I virtually lived in the Room of Hidden Things all last year," said Draco, his voice brittle. "I know how to get in."

"We followed you," grunted Greg. "We can do Disillusionment Charms now! Why d'ya need the tiara?"

"Harry?" Weasley's voice echoed suddenly from the other side of the wall to Potter's right. "Are you talking to someone?"

With a whiplike movement, Vince pointed his wand at the fifty foot mountain of old furniture, of broken trunks, of old books and robes and unidentifiable junk, and shouted, "Descendo!"

The wall began to totter, then the top third crumbled into the aisle next door where Weasley stood.

"Ron!" Potter bellowed, as somewhere out of sight Moon screamed, and Draco heard innumerable objects crashing to the floor on the other side of the destabilized wall: Potter pointed his wand at the rampart, cried, "Finite!" and it steadied.

Draco smirked at the sight of Weasley getting hurt, before stopping; the Dark Lord said that whatever they were looking for was not to be touched.

"No!" shouted Draco, staying Vince's arm as the latter made to repeat his spell. "If you wreck the room you might bury this diadem thing!"

"What's that matter?" said Vince, tugging himself free. "It's Potter the Dark Lord wants, who cares about a die-dum?"

"Potter came in here to get it," Draco snapped impatiently. "Which means it's important to the Dark Lord."

Then Vincent lost it. Maybe it was a combination of nerves and anger, or maybe he didn't know what to do. Whatever the case, fiendfyre was suddenly shooting out of his wand.

As Potter dodged, he knocked the bust and the tiara off the books into a pile of refuse.

"STOP!" Draco bellowed. "The Dark Lord wants him alive!"

But Vincent was too far gone to hear him. Greg was already running, and Draco started following him.

A roaring, bellowing noise behind him gave him a moment's warning. He turned and saw both Weasley and Vince running as hard as they could up the aisle toward them.

"Like it hot, scum?" roared Crabbe as he ran.

But he seemed to have no control over what he had done. Flames of abnormal size were pursuing them, licking up the sides of the junk bulwarks, which were crumbling to soot at their touch.

"Aguamenti!" Potter bawled, but the jet of water that soared from the tip of his wand evaporated in the air.

"RUN!"

Greg grabbed Draco and started dragging him along, and Vince outstripped all of them, now looking terrified; Weasley, Potter, and Moon pelted along in his wake, and the fire pursued them. It was not normal fire; Vince had used fiendfyre, for which there was no countercurse. As they turned a corner the flames chased them as though they were alive, sentient, intent upon killing them. Now the fire was mutating, forming a gigantic pack of fiery beasts: Flaming serpents, chimaeras, and dragons rose and fell and rose again, and the detritus of centuries on which they were feeding was thrown up into the air into their fanged mouths, tossed high on clawed feet, before being consumed by the inferno.

"GO GO GO!" Draco bellowed.

When he turned to glance around he saw Vince lagging behind, limping on one leg. He slowed down to help him, but the fire was catching up,

"Go." Vince choked, collapsing on his leg.

"I'm not leaving you. You're getting back to Astoria." he choked.

"Tell Stori I love her." he said with a faint smile before pushing Draco out into Greg's hands, Potter, Weasley, and Moon narrowly following as the doors shut behind them.

"No." Draco whispered. "NO!"

"Where's Vince?" Greg asked, looking around in confusion.

Potter, Weasley, and Moon were long gone.

"Dead." he choked out, furiously wiping his few tears off his grime streaked face.

"What?" Greg blanked. Because Vincent Crabbe couldn't be dead. Not the boy who was his best friends. Not the only other person who understood that acting dumb was sometimes better than showing people who you truly were. Who was there with him in every single one of his adventures. Who had a girl he loved. Who was dead.

"Come on." Draco said hoarsely after a while. "We have to get to the battle."

Hermione was in the Great Hall, facing the Light side. They had been severely reduced without most of the army. Many sixth years were in there, like Ginny Weasley and Colin Creevey. Even Dennis Creevey was there. That marked how truly desperate they were.

"Where's the Dark Lord?" Potter asked at the front.

"Right here." he snapped. "Morons, the whole lot of you."

"You?" Potter asked in confusion. "B-but you look-"

"Human." the Dark Lord asked boredly. "Yes, I know."

The Dark Army laughed meanly at them. Draco and Greg stumbled into the hall at that moment and took their place with the army. The looked tired and were covered in soot.

"Where's Vince?" Hermione asked.

Draco's said look, and the watery feeling of his usually impenetrable steel eyes told her all she needed to know. She wiped at her eyes.

"He'll get a proper burial." she muttered.

"Yeah." he said hoarsely, before clearing his throat.

"I give you one last chance Harry Potter." the Dark Lord said with an evil smirk. "Face me alone, and none of your friends will die."

"We'll beat you!" he roared.

"Very well." his lips curled up in a sneer. "CHARGE!"

The two sides rushed at each other, and the battle began. From the very beginning Hermione was in the thick of it, her orders being to stick with Draco and Greg. She caused almost as much mayhem as Bellatrix with her duelling, and Draco fought like a devil possessed. Greg was just shooting off Dark Curses left and right.

Soon she was immersed in a duel with three of the Weasleys: the twins and Percy. She was barely holding her own, and slowly she was backed up. Then she noticed a Weakness. The oldest, Percy, left his right flank open when duelling.

She started backing up purposefully, and soon Percy walked into her trap. She shot a high powered Sectumsempra at him at the same time as a simple Bludgeoning curse to mask it. He stopped the bludgeoning one, but he never stood a chance against the Sectumsempra. Percy Weasley collapsed like a rag doll with his strings cut, making not a sound.

Hermione noticed in gruesome satisfaction that his throat was split open in a clean smiley face, so deep that the skin was barely on there. He never stood a chance.

"Perce?" one of the twins asked. "Perce?"

When he realized that his older brother was dead, he let out a long drawn out wail. Hermione stood above them, wand at their prone forms.

"Well?" the other spat. "Why don't you kill us?"

He looked grief-stricken, but angry.

"Because I don't want to kill you two." Hermione said simply. "You caused me amusement against Umbitch during my fifth year. If you attack me I will obliterate you."

"Wait?" one of the Twins looked at her suspiciously. "She disappeared from the Ministry around Christmas. You wouldn't know anything about that would you?"

Hermione gave a coy smirk before shooting a stunner at them and dancing away to find another duelling partner. Soon she found herself duelling with Dennis Creevey. She was easily above his level.

"Sorry Mister Creevey." she purred after a while, before stunning him and placing him in a corner.

Least amount of deaths possible. She spun around, tossing a few dark spells here and there before looking around. Draco was making excellent use of a dark banishing spell to send some people right into spikes. Greg, with his limited spell repertoire, was mostly using the Reducto to blow people's limbs up. Then she saw Bellatrix in a duel with Ginny Weasley, Colin Creevey, and Lily Moon. After a killing curse barely missed Weasley, the mother Weasley came running in.

"NOT MY DAUGHTER, YOU BITCH!" she screeched, pushing the other three aside to send deadly curses at Bella.

Hermione started running there to help her mentor, even though she knew Bella would probably win.

Hermione watched with terror and elation as Molly Weasley's wand slashed and twisted, and Bellatrix Lestrange's smile faltered and became a snarl. Jets of light flew from both wands, the floor around the witches' feet became hot and cracked; both woman were fighting to kill.

"No!" Mrs. Weasley cried as a few people ran forward, trying to come to her aid. "Get back! Get back! She is mine!"

She admired Mrs Weasley's bravery, but Bellatrix would crush her.

"What will happen to your children when I've killed you?" taunted Bellatrix, capering as Molly's curses danced around her. "When Mummy's gone away?"

"You. Will. Never. Touch. My. Children. Again!" screamed Mrs. Weasley.

Before Hermione could even blink, Mrs Weasley's curse soared under Bella's outstretched arm and hit her right on the heart. She froze, before crumpling down. Hermione's heart felt cold.

Not Bellatrix.

Not her mentor.

Not the woman who gave her her duelling skills.

Not the woman who the world saw as mad but was actually a genius in terms of duelling.

Not Bella.

"NO!" Hermione screamed in an anguished tone, rushing forward to duel Molly Weasley.

She was so angry, so angry. It was like Theo's dad's funeral again. Hermione didn't think, didn't bother with playing. She just shot curse after curse after curse. Slowly, Mrs Weasley was backed into a corner, though she was fighting valiantly.

"That was my mentor." Hermione screamed at her while duelling, her eyes brimming with tears, her vision hazed with the red of anger.

"She was a killer." Mrs Weasley snapped.

Hermione's heart snapped, and before she knew what was happening Mrs Weasley was dead, a pile of melting skin and bones. Hermione expected to feel remorse or regret. She felt nothing, only an empty hole in her heart.

"NO!" Ginny Weasley screamed, rushing forward to kneel near her mother's remains. "You killed her!"

"Go." Hermione uttered, her voice sounding hollow to her ringing ears. "I don't want to kill you."

Ginny Weasley gave her one last hate filled glare before rushing away. Hermione let out the breath she had been unconsciously holding, before flitting away to find another duelling partner. Then the main duel started, in the middle of the Great Hall: Potter versus the Dark Lord.

"I don't want anyone else to help," Potter said loudly, and in the total silence his voice carried like a trumpet call. "It's got to be like this. It's got to be me."

Voldemort hissed.

"Potter doesn't mean that," he said, his red eyes wide. "This isn't how he works, is it? Who are you going to use as a shield today, Potter?"

"Nobody," said Harry simply. "There are no more Horcruxes. It's just you and me. Neither can live while the other survives, and one of us is about to leave for good..."

"Then let us end this." he hissed, before raising his wand. "Avada Kedavra!"

"Expelliarmus!" Potter yelled.

The beams met in the middle, a glorious clash of fireworks and magic. Hermione raised her arm to shield her eyes. The sun had started its ascent into the sky, adding to the light flooding the hall. When the light finally died down, Hermione got a good glimpse of the scene.

Potter was dead. His body lay on the ground, pale and still even in death. The Dark Lord lay next to him, also pale and still. Neither of them were breathing.

The Hall was deathly still as they looked at the scene before them. Then it was like someone had injected life into the scene. The Dark Lord's eyes snapped open, before he stood up with robotic movements. Potter's body lay deathly still.

"I have done it." he wondered, examining his body. "I have killed Potter!"

Hermione let out a light sigh of relief. Finally he was dead. Finally. But she wondered about the coma that they were both in. How did that happen? She gripped Draco's hand when he appeared next to her, dusty and bruised, but not to badly injured apart from a long but shallow gash on his forehead.

"I will give you all one last chance." the Dark Lord commanded in his deep but high voice. "Surrender to me now, or face death."

The first people to drop were the Weasley Twins. The looked tired, but Hermione saw they still had the spark in their eyes. Next was Ernie MacMillan. Then an adult she didn't know. Then the rest of the Order. They all sat on their knees, heads bowed. Some glared like Ginny Weasley. Other's just comforted their loved ones like Ron Weasley and Lily Moon.

The Battle was over. The Dark had won.

Astoria Greengrass was pacing. She had been pacing for nearly an hour. She had arrived at Nott Manor first to help the students who came, and they were now spread throughout the designated rooms, either resting, reading, or playing.

She and some of the older students, however, had stayed in the main room, talking quietly and occasionally munching on some snacks from the house elves.

Astoria had decided to pace. She was worried. Very worried. The battle had started at midnight, that much she knew. Other than that, she was in the dark. It was sunrise now. Most of the younger students were asleep. It was just her, Chastity, Quincy, Kara, and a few others.

Suddenly she heard a pop. Astoria spun around, wand already in hand. It was just Hermione, but a different Hermione. The Hermione before the battle was clean and bright eyed. This one was dull eyed and dirty.

"We won." were the first words that came out of her mouth. "The Dark won. Potter is dead."

There was deadly silence in the room. A minute later Draco and Greg came through the Portkey. No Vincent. Astoria's heart felt like a block of ice. Maybe he was late. Maybe his portkey didn't work. Maybe he was doing something else.

Then she heard the words that she dreaded to hear.

"Vince didn't make it. Killed by fiendfyre."

Astoria felt shaky. Her knees were wobbly. She felt lightheaded, and it was like her head was surrounded by buzzing bees.

Because Vince couldn't be dead. He promised not to leave her. He promised!

"No." the strangled noise came from her throat, a few tears rolling down her face. "NO!"

Astoria stumbled over to a chair, her thoughts vague and floaty, but centered around one person: Vincent.

Because she loved him. With all her heart. And he had loved her. And now he was dead. Gone. Forever.

The funeral was horrible. It was a week after the final battle, and the Dark Lord was already rearranging the world. Hermione, much to her pleasure, had become the new undersecretary to Lucius Malfoy, the new Minister for Magic.

She now sat in a row for a traditional funeral, where he was buried in a lake. Hermione was standing with Draco, Pansy, Greg, Theo, and Daphne, who was supporting an emotionally distraught Astoria. They had nobody to lay on the boat, so a lifelike replica was made, and lain on the wooden boat, surrounded by flowers.

On the replica Vince's face looked peaceful. He wore a flower crown made by Astoria, and was lain on the boat on a bed of flowers. With the sun having just risen, the light shone on his body in an ethereal way. With some magic words Vince's parents pushed the boat out to water. Everyone raised their wand in memory of him.

"Incendio." Vince's mom intoned.

The boat caught on fire as it floated, Vince's body/replica burning with it. Music was playing in the background, and Hermione decided that this was how she wanted to be buried.

If I die young,

Bury me in silence,

Lay me down on a, bed of roses

Take me to the river, at dawn.

Send me away with the words of a love song.

Hermione and the rest of the mourners watched the boat burn and sik in silence, except for the beautiful music. Hermione's long black funeral dress fluttered around her ankles as she wiped silent tears from her puffy eyes.

Vincent Crabbe was dead.

They buried the rest of their fallen later on, but none of the deaths affected Hermione as much as Vince's. The Light Side had lost many: Molly Weasley, Percy Weasley, Colin Creevey, Potter, and many others. But even though the Dark Side had lost few, each death was like a knife to the heart.

The worst death was the death of Professor Snape. Theo had found his limp body in the hall during clean up, a deep hole in his chest. His eyes were closed, and he lay peaceful.

"So who else died?" Hermione asked him when he came back.

He had looked at her with sad eyes. "Snape."

Hermione had screamed. She had screamed and screamed and sobbed because Professor Snape was dead. Her mentor. The closest thing she had to a father. And he was gone. In his will he had left everything to Hogwarts but one letter.

Dear Hermione,

I find writing emotional letters gets to be very hard, but I know that I will die in the battle, so I will do my best. You have been the closest thing to a daughter these years, with your affinity for potions and your strength, courage, and persistence. I wrote to the board of potion masters and they will allow you to submit your last two potions without me.

You remind me so much of my best friend when I was younger. She was muggleborn, but a Gryffindor. We grew apart and had a fight. It is to my everlasting dismay that she was killed by Death Eaters. When you came along, so bright and so kind like her, I took you under my wing. I would breed you, help you advance. As the years went by you became more than just a student to me. You took the position of a daughter in all but blood.

I ask you one thing now that I am gone, though it is sappy and sentimental. Remember me.

-Severus Snape

Hermione had fallen asleep that night sobbing. The funeral for him was spectacular. He was lain on a boat, surrounded by simple white flowers. He wore his traditional black robes, and his hands were folded over the wound on his heart and holding his wand.

They had no music for him, only silence. Hermione was devastated.

"We need to get married." Draco told her later, as he lay in what they now called their bed.

Hermione had on a thin nightie and he was shirtless.

"But-" Hermione was cut off.

"We've lost people. What better way to bring back the happiness than a wedding?"

"We're so young." Hermione whispered.

"A lot of people get married by 18 in the Wizarding World." Draco told her. "And the engagement ring on your hand says that a wedding is coming. We don't have to have kids until you're ready."

Hermione glanced down at the flower ring, biting her lip. She loved Draco, and the idea of living with him was appealing seeing as they already lived in the same house.

"I wanted Professor Snape to walk me down the aisle." she whispered.

"Father will do it." he replied softly, pulling her closer.

"Ok." was her response.

When Pansy and Daphne found out, Hermione went deaf for an hour due to the volume and intensity of their squeals. They then proceeded to push her onto the couch and start planning the wedding.

The last funeral was for Bellatrix. The witch was given a private funeral since she was technically a criminal, and was lain to rest with her wand and black corset dress. Hermione had wept for her. At this point the war was over. The dead were buried, the ministry rearranged, and the Dark had won.

So why did Hermione feel so horrible?

Chapter Text

Hermione fidgeted around in her undergarments. Pansy, Daphne, and Luna were fluttering around her as they did her up. For a traditional wedding the brides didn't decorate themselves with anything fake, only nature. So Hermione had lemon on her lips to make them shine and water on her lashes to elongate them. Her undergarments were lacy and sheer. When she had asked why, Pansy had replied that she needed to have a good night.

Hermione slipped her dress on. It was an off white piece that went with her peach skin perfectly. Its halter neck and keyhole wrapped tightly around her body, and the rest of the dress flowed down to the ground in waves with flowers embroidered on the top layer.

Luna had kept Hermione's hair loose like always, and curled it to the side before weaving flowers into it. White flowers. She was going barefoot, and now all that was left were the basic jewelry pieces: something old, new, borrowed, and blue.

She was wearing an old pear of pearl earrings from her fifth year with the dress. They were simple but dangling from the pearls was another smaller silver pearl. Her new was her undergarments. Her borrowed was Vince's hand cuff from Astoria.

"He would want you to have it." she had whispered, pressing it into Hermione's hand. So the black leather cuff sat on Hermione's wrist. Her blue was the promise necklace Draco gave her in sixth year.

She was ready. Hermione then helped her friends into their bridesmaid dresses. All of them wore tight strapless gowns with no designs that hugged their bodies. Luna's was ice blue, Daphne's was light green, and Pansy's was lavender. All three had matching flowers braided into their hair, and no makeup.

Blaise, Theo, and Greg were the grooms. In a magical wedding, Draco stood at the altar with his mother instead of a close friend. Draco. Hermione had initially been nervous for the wedding, but now she couldn't wait for it. Hermione Malfoy. It sounded so wonderful on her tongue.

Draco was nervous. He knew he was. He was getting married for Merlin's sake! He fidgeted slightly in his black dress robes and looked around himself. The wedding location was perfect. It was the gazebo he had proposed to Hermione in.

The path she would walk down was strewn with flowers, so that the ground didn't hurt her bare feet. He was standing in the middle, with white Roman columns surrounding him on an elevated platform. The columns had flowers spiralling around them, and lights hung from the trees and bushes. The wedding was big, since Hermione was the undersecretary to the Minister.

He saw many people out there, though the front seats were reserved for family and friends. Many members of the SM had been invited to the wedding. He grinned as Susan and Hannah waved at him from the front row. Three seats had been left empty in the front to represent Bellatrix, Snape, and Vincent.

Then the music started. Not wedding muggle music, but faerie song. Sweet beautiful music that entranced everyone, and whispered words of love in their ears. To Draco it sounded like the crackle of a warm fire while it rained outside in spring.

The bridesmaids started walking down, holding scented candles in their hands to illuminate their faces in the dark of night. The wedding was taking place at midnight, an auspicious time in magic. Then Hermione came, and Draco froze.

Her gown revealed most of her shoulders, and was backless. It wrapped around her peach skin, illuminating the flowers in her hair and her smooth face. She had a loving look on her face as she gazed at him, shadowed by the faerie lights. His father was next to her, walking her down the aisle.

His throat felt dry as she ascended the platform, taking her place next to him. Their bonder, a ministry person, stood to the side.

"Fellow Witches and Wizards." he started. "We are gathered today to witness the joining of Draco Abraxas Malfoy, Pureblood Slytherin, and Hermione Jean Granger, Muggleborn Slytherin."

Draco gritted his teeth slightly at the obviously disapproving lilt in his voice as he said Hermione's name.

"Who gives this girl in marriage?"

"I do." Lucius said.

"And who gives this boy in marriage?"

"I do." Narcissa said.

"Are there any objections?" he asked, scanning the crowd. There was silence.

"Then by the laws of earth, air, fire, and water, by the sacred alliance of Merlin and Arthur, I pronounce you two bonded! Ut per vinculum pacis animabus vestris!"

Draco felt a rush of magic as their magical cores bonded. Colors flashed in front of his eyes as he experienced the elation Hermione felt at this moment, and the puzzlement at the bonding colors. The feeling was amazing. He could feel Hermione's presence no matter where she went now. He could feel her magic dancing with his own, creating a balance that the two would live in, like the Yin and Yang.

On an impulse he leaned forward to kiss her, and she responded eagerly. This wasn't a rough kiss, no. This was soft and sweet, because Hermione Granger was now Hermione Malfoy.

Hermione was excited as she walked around the garden. The Elves were setting up the food tables and dance floor, while she went around the manor talking to people. After thanking and smiling at some Ministry Lackey she was pulled aside by Mr Malfoy. Her new father- in - law.

"I have some people for you to meet." he muttered, pulling her into a corridor outside the main room. When Hermione glimpsed the people who were there she stiffened up.

They were her parents.

Hermione got a good look at Dan and Emma Granger. They looked the same, albeit with a little more grey in their hair.

"Why are they here?" Hermione snarled. "They're muggles."

"Because you need closure." Draco told her softly, coming out of the shadows. "No matter how much you deny it, you still have some memory of your parents in you, and unless you come to terms with that you won't be able to move on. We just went through a war, Hermione. You need this."

Hermione turned around to look blankly at her birth parents.

"Mother. Father." she said stiffly.

She wanted nothing to do with them frankly.

"Hermione." Emma whispered. "You look so grown up."

"Thank you." Hermione replied, keeping her head high.

"Isn't eighteen too young to be married?" Dan frowned.

"I'm an adult now, and I can make my own choices." Hermione snapped at him.

She took a deep breath to cool down.

"You should leave." she said. "I realize now that no matter what you can never be a part of my life. Thank you for raising me, but I'm with family now."

"We're proud of you." Emma said softly. "We never approved of magic but we are proud of what a beautiful strong lady you have become. We know nothing can make up for what she did, and we won't try."

Hermione schooled her face. They may not have realized it, but those words rang in her heart beautifully. When she was younger she had longed only for their approval, and it was still in her, deep seated. Now it was gone. Her parents left, and Hermione turned to Draco as they entered the hall and left for the garden to dance.

"Thank you." Hermione murmured to him. "I needed that."

He gave her a large smile before offering his hand to her for the first dance.

"My lady." he smirked slyly.

She gave a grin and took his hand, before he spun her onto the dance floor in a storm of white fabric and brown curls.

I have died everyday, waiting for you

Darling, don't be afraid, I have loved you for a thousand years

I'll love you for a thousand more…

Soon the dance ended, and Blaise took his spot in the DJ box. He was starting his own nightclub, and Hermione had given him the DJ job because of how much good music he knew.

"Let's get this party started!" he roared.

With a cheer the dance floor was swarmed, and Hermione laughed giddily as Draco spun her around.

All this time, you weren't even on my mind.

Who would have known that you'd be,

Be the one in the million I need.

"Mrs Malfoy?" Theo asked her from a corner, offering her his hand.

"Theo." she smiled, taking a shot of champagne and allowing herself to dance with him.

"You're like my sister, you know that?" he asked.

"And you're my brother." she laughed.

You Love's Like,

Breathing in the Salty air

Of summer on a private island just for me

Your love's like the feeling I get

When my favorite songs spinnin' in my head…

"I'm proud. The first time I saw you, you were eleven, and I knew you were destined for great things."

"I'm just glad I wasn't a Gryffindor." Hermione teased.

After another fast dance with Draco, she was spun into the arms of her new father in law.

"Miss Malfoy." he said formally, and Hermione took his hand for the traditional father daughter dance.

Get you on the floor

Don't hurt nobody

Can't you see we were made just to move our bodies

Forget about the crowd, it gonna be the party

If you say you can dance, boy then here come on it!

"Severus would be proud." he said after a while.

"I hope so." Hermione whispered, a brief moment of grief passing over her smooth features.

"Take care of my son, Hermione.." he said calmly, before sweeping away and leaving Hermione with Draco again.

The party was starting to wind down, and Hermione had danced with all of her friends.

"Come on." Draco said, taking her hand and leading her down the hall to their new bedroom.

Their bedroom. It sounding so sinful in Hermione's mind. She took a good look around the beautiful light yellow room with brown furniture and a green four poster bed before she was pushed onto said bed.

"Have fun?" Theo teased them later the next day.

Hermione simply smirked before going to the library for research. Horcruxes were the topic of her research. Draco had given her some of the soot from the Fiendfyre because it was so rare, and when doing research on it she found an unknown substance in it.

More research gave the substance a name: a Horcrux. Questioning gave her knowledge about the diadem, and from there it was interrogations on Ron Weasley through Veritaserum and Memory Charms.

Horcruxes. They were undoubtedly the darkest thing she had ever come across. To break pieces of her soul was bad enough for her, but to actually remove them from her body entirely sounded horrible. Soul containers were an apt description. And from what she heard Potter and Weasley destroyed a fake last Horcrux: Hufflepuff's cup.

An item which she knew was in Bella's vault. And The Lestrange Vault had merged with the Black Vault which merged with the Malfoy Vault, so all she had to do was find it. And find it she did. A white and golden cup, touched by darkness that tried to capture her soul. Her occlumency kept the darkness out fortunately, enough for her to drop it and levitate it instead.

So here Hermione was, sitting on her bed and looking at the Dark Lord's last horcrux. What to do? She could kill him, or keep him alive. In a weird way, Hermione looked up to the Dark Lord, but she was still serving him.

After a few days, Draco noticed something was wrong. Hermione was subdued and always thinking of something. She would go to work, come back, and lock herself in the Potions Lab or go volunteer at St. Mungo's.

"What's wrong?" he asked her one night.

She gave him a wane smile.

"I need to make a choice: Freedom and Power, or Servility. I don't know which."

"You deserve to be free." he told her gently.

She gave him a watery smile. Draco always knew what to tell her.

The next day she dropped the horcrux in a warded room and set it alight with Fiendfyre. She watched in fascination as it shriveled up with a scream and died, for a better sense of word. Hermione felt a rush of power. If she killed the Dark Lord, power would be hers. She wouldn't have to serve him anymore.

But on the other hand, she owed him. She owed him for her position of power in the Ministry. So what to do? Hermione decided to take a break and go to the Potions conference.

She wore a black pencil skirt and an emerald blouse with a keyhole neckline. Golden earrings, a golden bracelet, black heels, and a black cloak completed it, with red lipstick. She was given awkward looks when she entered without a mentor.

"Seeing as how my mentor died after I finished my potions I assumed that I would still be allowed to submit them?" she asked bluntly to the board.

"Yes Mrs Malfoy. Continue." said one of the men.

Both her Bezoar Potion and her Mind Potion, which she had renamed Snape's draught, were made potions, and Hermione was given the status of Potions Mistress.

"Which category of Potions will you specialize in?" one of the men asked.

"Healing and Battle Potions." Hermione replied.

And so she was set. And now Hermione sat on her bed, toying with a vial of poison.

Poison.

It seemed like such an easy thing to do. The house elves already liked her, and wouldn't tell anyone. Then she would have power. No one to serve but the Minister, who was also her father in law. What she didn't like was the serving.

Even if Lucius was Minister he was bound to do whatever the Dark Lord told him. And when Hermione caught word of laws against Muggleborns being reenacted and the Muggle Born Registration continuing she knew she had to stop it.

This was tyranny, no this was a dictatorship.

So why did Hermione feel a clenching in her gut as she handed the vial of Nightlock to Tippy the house elf?

That evening was a death eater meeting dinner to celebrate their victory and plan their next moves. Very few death eaters were left: Dolohov, the Malfoys, and Yaxley in the inner circle, not counting Hermione, Draco, and Theo.

"To victory." he toasted with a smirk, and everyone followed the Dark Lord in taking a drink.

For a few seconds nothing happened, and Hermione thought her plan had gone horribly wrong. Then the Dark Lord started choking. He clutched his neck, and after a few seconds he keeled over. To her shock and surprise, the same thing happened to Dolohov and Yaxley.

She looked around and Draco and Theo gave her small smirks. She raised her eyebrows.

"We caught wind of your plan from the house elves. Figured that now we would be the only ones in power." Draco shrugged.

Hermione gaped a little before closing her mouth and thinking.

"Now what?" she asked.

"We continue where we are. Theo takes his spot in Wizengamot with me, and we start doing what we want." Draco said.

That night found Hermione crying on their bed.

"I should hate them, but I can't. No matter what as small part of me will still look up to them. And they won't get funerals!" she wailed.

"It's alright." Draco soothed her, tucking her into bed and climbing in with her while Hermione let her tears fall down.

As Hermione predicted, there were no funerals. All the anti-uggleborn laws were scrapped except for one: The Muggleborn Introduction Law.

Muggleborns would now be required to learn about the Wizarding World at the age of nine so they had two years to learn about it and be as instructed in its social etiquette as purebloods.

And so the war was now completely over. The Dark Lord and most of his death eaters were dead. Except for a few people in his ranks all of them were dead. The Light had suffered a severe blow, and it was unlikely it would rise again with the new laws in place.

Hermione started going out of the house again. She met up with Susan and Hannah for lunch one day. She set Astoria up with Terry Boot. She gave Lavender, Padma, and Parvati the idea to merge their fashion and cosmetic business with Pansy and Daphne's fashions. They called their new business Triple PDL.

She moved on from the war. And in the aftermath of it all she realized that she really was like a phoenix, like Ankaa. Because in the ashes of war she rose stronger than before. Even though she couldn't be reborn, every time something bad happened she would come out of it stronger.

So when Draco asked for a child she agreed.

"What to name him?" Hermione asked Draco as they lay one night, years later.

Lucius and Narcissa had moved to a smaller property by the sea, leaving the Manor to Hermione and Draco. She had redecorated, adding lighter greens, blues, and the occasional red to the dark manor.

"I don't know." Hermione murmured.

"I always liked the name Scorpius." he said softly. "Scorpius, the scorpion, son of the dragon and princess."

"Draco, I'm not a princess." she blushed.

"Yes, you are." he whispered. "You're my princess. You're Slytherin's Princess."

"Scorpius." Hermione said. "Scorpius Severus Malfoy."

"I love it." he said softly. "Scorpius Severus."

Months later in the hospital, at the age of 25, Hermione Malfoy gave birth to Scorpius Severus Malfoy, a beautiful baby with locks of blonde unruly hair, grey eyes, and his mother's nose.

"He's beautiful." Hermione whispered, tears in her eyes as she cradled her baby.

Scorpius grew up loved but not spoiled by both his parents, though his godparents Blaise and Luna Zabini did spoil him. His best friends were Pandora Zabini, Laurel Nott, Arcturus Parkinson, and Regulus Smith.

And so he was. The beginning of a new generation, in a time of peace, where both dark and light magic were taught at Hogwarts. Where it was a time of peace, all thanks to the Sorting Hat's choice to place a Muggleborn in Slytherin.

All was well.