The Disbeliever
By Inner Self
"The one with the power to vanquish the Dark Lord approaches ... born to those who have thrice defied him, born as the seventh month dies ... and the Dark Lord will mark him as his equal, but he will have power the Dark Lord knows not ... and either must die at the hand of the other for neither can live while the other survives ... the one with the power to vanquish the Dark Lord will be born as the seventh month dies ..."
—Prophecy made to Albus Dumbledore by Sybil Trelawney
Chapter One: "An Introduction to Suspicion and Denial"
Hermione fell asleep as soon as her head hit the pillow. She was back at Hogwarts for her sixth year. Hermione always felt dead on her feet these days. Luckily, Harry wasn't keeping her on her toes as much as the previous year. Thus, she was left to her studies. After third year, Hermione had been convinced to lift her course load a bit. McGonagall had been the most convincing, saying that Hermione would not be allowed a timeturner again until N.E.W.T.S. year. Now that would not be happening. The timeturners were busted during the battle against the Death Eaters in the Department of Mysteries. Timeturners would not be functional for a couple years, possibly a decade.
This year, Hermione would have very much liked a timeturner. She had a full course load, similar to her third year and no timeturner to help her. Hermione had realized that the ministry applicants garnered "bonus points," so to speak, if they had taken Divination and passed at least the O.W.L. level. The Ministry, though it realized that many magic folk lacked "the gift," considered knowledge of Divination vital to the cultural education of witches and wizards.
Hermione refused to remove any of her courses, even though she fleetingly considered Defense. So Hermione tacked Divination onto her list. Her year had a rough start. Hermione spent many late nights in the library. Her sneak skill must have bumped up ten points. Professor Snape had only caught her once, near the end of the month. Alone, Hermione had broken down and cried. She mouthed off about Professor Snape to Harry and Ron for the first time in her life. They told her in the easiest manner possible that she would still have top marks if she lightened her study habits.
Hermione was nothing but affronted. Ron continued in the calmest, most soothing tone he could manage. He told her to start with non-DADA extra credit. Snape, who was teaching Defense this year, could be a right bastard, Ron told her. He reasoned that she could use that buffer of extra credit, but pleaded she dropped the other classes' assignments. Hermione imagined how disappointed her professors would be. She begrudgingly agreed. Hermione put most of her time into her defense and divination studies. Still, she worked non-stop and got seven hours of sleep a night, if she did not pass out before her allotted bedtime. Like presently.
Hermione had been in the middle of reviewing for her first divination exam. Being Hermione, she had thrown statistical analysis into her study to help her "predict" the images that would be on the test. She had already memorized the common meanings of "prophetic" images. She could receive top marks in her sleep if tested solely on those.
Hermione woke hours later, for what reason, she knew not. Frankly, she believed she was still dreaming. Someone had left their lamp on, so the room was encompassed in a soft, warm glow. Hermione propped her head lazily on her pillow so as to expect the room. For what, she soon found out. She saw herself propped up on her bed, sitting on her heels. This version of her had on a light pink silk nightgown. Her hands lay in her lap. She was surrounded by a rich, silver aura and her hair shone like threaded gold. Her eyes reflected gold as well with specks of brown barely visible in their depths, and her skin looked positively radiant. Her doppelganger bit her lip, but not out of nervousness. She seemed to wait for Hermione's undivided attention. Still, Hermione was so tired, even within her dream.
The doppelganger stopped feigning (poor) patience and spoke. "Dear Hermione, I fear the worst has come of your time travelling adventures."
"Those were ages ago," Hermione said, frowning in confusion. Lavender had her curtains drawn. Hermione saw Lavender turn in her sleep. Hermione turned her attention back to the astral visage she had somehow conjured, be it by sleep or deprivation thereof.
Her doppelganger looked apologetic, her sympathy boring into Hermione for a couple of seconds. "I know," she started. "I'm sorry."
"Apology accepted?" said Hermione. Did talking to one's self within a dream constitute a lapse of sanity?
Her doppelganger released a great sigh of relief. She then gave Hermione a brilliant smile. "Oh, good. Nice to be on good terms with you. Afterall, I'm just the messenger!" She laughed a little to hide her nervousness. "I guess the first bit didn't matter too much until now. Or I would have told you sooner, I swear. Now let's see… Okay. You know that prophecy your friend Harry told you?"
Hermione nodded.
"Well…," the doppelganger started, before she threw caution to the wind and said, "oh, bollocks! The prophecy is all bollocks! Now, anyways."
"Is that all?" Hermione asked nonplussed.
Her doppelganger anxiously ringed a golden rivulet of hair around her index finger. "I was also to tell you that tomorrow Professor Snape would award points to Gryffindor. Again, I'm sorry about relaying the message at such a late hour. I know you were sleeping. And I know how much you discount fate. I just hope my message does not fall on deaf ears."
"I'm going back to bed," said Hermione.
"Oh… well… Goodnight," said the doppelganger.
And Hermione set about doing just that. She became absorbed in a dream about a library book that she needed for defense prep work. It sprouted snitchlike wings around her head, just barely out of her reach…
Hermione woke and got ready for classes as she always did. She spent a bit more time in the shower though. Hermione noticed as she grabbed her books that Lavender didn't seem to be waking up any time soon. Hermione took it upon herself since second year to wake her on these occasions. The other girls shied away from the unpleasant task. Hermione usually set an alarm to ring with enough time for Lavender to dress and forego breakfast. Alas, Hermione herself was cutting breakfast a bit short.
Hermione forewent the more pleasant method in the prudence of time. Lavender grumbled and whined until Hermione relayed the time to her. Lavender rushed to the loo and slammed the door in her haste to dress. Hermione sighed. Why had she taken up this responsibility?
Hermione absently took her wand and swished it toward Lavender's lamp with a whispered nox. She froze immediately after she did it. Sunlight was pouring into the room from the east-facing windows. For what possible reason could Lavender's light have been on?
'How peculiar,' thought Hermione.
"Lavender, how late were you up last night?" she asked.
She received a grumbled 'What?'
"When did you get to bed?" Hermione asked in a near yell.
"About three o' clock. Hufflepuffs. Important night. I forget why," said Lavender.
'Of course the seventh year Hufflepuffs would invent important celebrations on the fly like this,' Hermione thought chastisingly. 'On Sunday nights, of all nights.'
"Don't leave your light on again, alright?" Hermione called.
Lavender gave some semblance of an affirmative as she brushed brushed her teeth.
"I'm going. Don't be late," Hermione said, expecting to hear a yes, mum.
The Gryffindors had a double defense bright and early on Mondays. Hermione grabbed some toast from the Great Hall and sluggishly followed Harry and Ron to their first lesson of the day. Harry and Ron were chatting about the misplacement of justice.
"Unfair, is what it is," Ron griped. "I don't think the time table is ordered by what course we take. Is it just me, Harry, or have we had Snape for lessons every morning every year for SIX. YEARS?"
Harry wondered. "Not on the same day. Still, it is odd."
"Defense and potions are always in the morning. Hogwarts curriculum is quite structured, Harry. This isn't an unjust coincidence. McGonagall just likes to keep the timetables the same from year to year."
"Unfair it is," Ron groaned. He rubbed his tired eyes.
"Well," said Hermione, searching for a positive aspect. "Nothing like defense to wake us up."
Harry laughed, albeit sarcastically. "Snape always has us doing practical drills. We cannot afford sleep."
"And if we don't find a partner quick," Ron added, "he assigns us to a Slytherin."
"Probably tells them the lesson ahead of time," Harry griped.
Hermione neither agreed nor disagreed. Professor Snape liked loopholes and played the favoritism card as often as he was allotted, but he would be fired if he helped his House to cheat.
Hermione went through her lecture about respecting all professors. "If you have evidence, great. Give him the boot. As far as I know, he's still our professor. So use his—yawn—title."
"Mione, how much sleep did you get?" asked Harry. Merlin knew they both worried about her. When Ron wasn't off doing Merlin-knows-what and Harry wasn't obsessing over Draco Malfoy, she thought pessimistically.
"I got seven hours. I had a weird dream halfway through—yawn," she said.
"You mean the ones that feel like they are costing you energy to dream?" asked Ron.
"Funny how I love and hate those. Wish I could sleep in when I have them," said Harry wistfully.
Hermione gave a sleepy grin. "It was funny, now that I think about it. I was talking to myself, who looked as real as you or you." Hermione laughed. "Only she acted like someone polyjuiced as me. She didn't act at all like me." Hermione remembered what she'd said about the prophecy and skipped that part of her tale before Harry or Ron noticed. No reason to upset Harry. He still got in his moods when talking about heavy stuff, stuff that would lead back to the death of his godfather.
Hermione forced herself to laugh, convincingly. "And she said that Professor Snape would award points to Gryffindor!"
Ron gaped in mock surprise as Harry laughed. "You're mad. Why would you lie to you like that? She shouldn't get your hopes up."
"The apocalypse will come before that conniving git give us even two points!" Harry said through laughter.
They laughed about it all the way up the stairwell to the Defense classroom. Harry, Ron, and Hermione sat next to Neville, Ron being adjacent to Neville.
The back doors snapped shut, signaling the professor's arrival. The Gryffindor students, on full alert, turned to watch his approach to the lecturn, his robes billowing as he waltzed past their rows. "Turn to page 214. Read the section on non-verbal protection charms. Then you will rally into groups of four and practice for ten minutes," and then his lip curled in pleasure as he said, "starting now."
Harry, Hermione, Ron, and Neville immediately formed a group. They talked the spell over after reading it. Hermione then asked Ron for the dried up inkwell in his bag. "I know you haven't gotten to throwing it out. Luckily, it's just what we need to practice the spell." So Ron shuffled through his bag and handed over the black-painted, glass vial.
Hermione set it down on the desk. "Okay, we will pass it around. Keep your wand ahead of it so you can block the spell sent toward it. Now, Professor Snape knows we have been taught the protego spell, so practice the protego maximus."
Harry, Ron, and Neville practiced for about two minutes. Hermione was half-way through her turn when Professor Snape called time. Hermione reluctantly sheathed her wand. She knew she could do better!
"Now you and your partners will demonstrate the spell for the class. I believe the Liutenants of Dumbledore's Army wish to go first?" It was not a request. Harry, Ron, Hermione, and Neville dragged their sorry arses to the front.
Hermione whispered, "Better to get it over with, Neville." Still, she did not feel as ready as she would like to be for whatever Snape had planned for them. They stood facing Professor Snape, waiting for instructions. The Slytherins snickered quietly behind them.
"Mr. Potter," said Professor Snape, "Stand in the middle of your cohorts. I do hope you have a certain level of competence with this spell."
Harry did his best not to glare at Professor Snape. He concentrated on Hermione, who stood before him. She was mouthing the word concentrate. Harry cooled his head.
Professor Snape instructed, "Draw your wands. The surrounded person—Potter—will cast his non-verbal protection spell of choice. Your friends are not to hold back or I will take over."
Hermione mentally sighed with relief. Four people to a group seemed a little ridiculous. She should have seen this coming. Luckily, she told her group to practice the protego maximus. Now could they do it? She hoped for Harry's sake.
Hermione, Ron, and Neville took on an offensive stance. They put all their effort into the non-verbal spells. The three of them shot expelliarmus at Harry and he countered with protego maximus. Hermione's spell managed to slip through. Harry's wand flew from his hand, and he skidded back with the force of it.
"A protego maximus? I guess not allhope is lost. Mr. Potter, step out of the middle. Mr. Longbottom, take his place. You three," he directed, "will use verbal spells this time."
'Probably as punishment for using the protego maximus,' Hermione thought.
Neville held off two of their attacks as well. He was better than most with non-verbal spells. Actually, he was worse with verbal spells. Verbal spells required him to speak, which led to stuttering in the presence of Professor Snape, which usually got botched up.
"Mr. Weasley," called Professor Snape. Hermione tried not to show her look of pity. Ron had done well at the Ministry afterall. She chastised herself for worrying and readied her wand. She cast petrificus totalus this time. Ron blocked it but was staggered by Neville or Harry's expelliarmus. Probably Harry. It was his best spell.
Without being told, Hermione stepped into the middle. She was perspiring cold sweat. 'God, why should I be nervous?' she asked herself. 'I felt fine not a second earlier.' She wanted to succeed, as always. Hermione started chanting the spell in her head to get every inflection right. She drew the wand movements quickly as the others launched their attack. Her heart fluttered in anticipation. She kept chanting as the hexes flew her way. Hermione closed her eyes anxiously. She had to get this right! She'd been studying too darn long the night prior to mess up. Her heart jumped as she felt the spells connecting with her shield.
Hermione remembered one of the gladiator movies her father loved. She imagined a wall shield that fit perfectly on her wand arm. Hermione dug her feet into the ground and then raised that shield up with her body weight to knock back two of the spells. Then she swung that "shield" around and thwarted the spell that was about to breach her flank.
She had gotten the feel for the protego maximus. Hermione tried to still her breathing. Heart still hammering, Hermione opened her eyes.
Her eyes widened in shock. Neville and Ron were lying against the classroom wall. Harry was looking around for his wand and glasses.
"Accio Harry's wand," said Hermione. She gave it to Harry and ran over to check on Neville and Ron.
"I'm okay," Neville said as she knelt beside them. He grinned and said, "This stuff is always happening to me, you know?"
"I'm alright, too, Mione. Just please don't do that again."
Hermione chuckled. She helped them up.
"Occulus reparo," said Harry behind them. He put on his glasses. His eyes widened for a second when he saw where Ron and Neville had ended up.
Professor Snape made a shooing motion to dismiss them toward their seats. "Furthermore," he added, "Five points to Gryffindor for their well-placed trust in Miss Granger's wandwork."
Hermione gaped at him a moment before she fled the classroom.