Chapter 1 Cross some t's and dot some I's.
Hogwarts two weeks before start semester.
-oOo Head Mistress office Professor McGonagall oOo-
Checking out with concern the ten facing her, Minerva starts to speak,
"You have all expressed the intent to start on an 8th-year here at Hogwarts to compensate for your lost N.E.W.T.'s and a chance at graduation. I don't need to dwell on the reason why, every single one of you carries scars, some more than others." The uneasy shuffle underlined the animosity underneath. It was almost touchable. If glares could kill . "But none of you will re-enter these walls if you are not willing to set aside the hate and start with a new leaf. Each soul here present did things that they are not proud of, blood has been shed, and some might feel drowned by guilt and remorse. And probably some fails to understand what people are forced to do under the pressure of malevolent forces and if given a new chance never would do at all."
The brief silence forced the words to sink in.
"For this 8th-year, you will not belong to a specific House. You will all be Slytherin, Gryffindor, Hufflepuff and Ravenclaw in one." Her finger in the air put a stop to the upcoming protests, "You can only attend this new academic year if you accept my challenge plus if you bring your assignment to a good end." She stared at them meaningfully, "The last thing I need is a toddler group attending classes, who can't work together and help restore peace inside these walls. This teambuilding challenge is meant to reshape your views and teach you to trust each other. Force you to listen, accept and forgive." The silence crisped, not even the portraits moved, "Have I made myself clear? If any of you isn't open-minded enough to give the other a chance, please use the door behind to leave this room."
Sitting behind the desk, Minerva breathed deep, without dropping her watch for a second. She read determination, resentment, guilt, and uncertainty. To her satisfaction, none of them chose to leave. "I'll be sending you to a fortress on the west coast of France for seven days, paired with duo's, where multiple challenges await you to be completed under time pressure. Wands nor magic are allowed, only your physical abilities: strength, agility, and intelligence. Don't be silly to think wards aren't in place to ensure such rule. Each challenge leads to the big end. If you fail, you are denied entry to attend your last year. If any of you is found guilty of sabotage, your presence will also be denied, regardless of the outcome." The nods said all she needed to know.
"Very well, then I'll proceed now with pairing you. I strongly advise you to use tonight as a new begin. And don't forget, miss the end mark, and you kiss your eight-year goodbye."
Scrapping her throat, she braced herself for the impending wave of objections as she started to read her list, "Neville and Theodore." Both men shared a look of disdain but nodded in understanding.
This pair was the least of her concerns , "Blaise and Lavender." Lavender blinked a few times, ogling the stud to her left. Blaise sighed in defeat, rolling his eyes, this Gryffindor and intelligent in the same sentence? I'm done before I start.
"The next pair is Ron and Tracey," Minerva's words weren't even cold, or Tracey mumbled, "Hooray for me, I have the muscles but not the brain I'm so fucking lucky."
Ron simply cursed, "Fuck."
"Mister Weasley, Miss Davies, your language. Let's continue with Harry and Pansy." Hell broke loose. Four voices rose in volume, raging their frustrations.
"Professor McGonagall, you can't expect me to work together with HIM! He… He is…"
"Great, just what I need. Fuck my life. I need to vomit."
"I'm not working with scarhead. Ever! The golden boy, my arse."
"Perfect I'm paired with the Slytherin princess. Is there a brain underneath that hair?"
"WILL YOU ALL BE QUIET?" McGonagall lost her temper; which never happened, she was always in control. Her raised voice startled everyone, including all the portraits, even Dumbledore and Snape retreat a step or two. It took her three to four breaths to settle down, "Let me repeat my earlier remark, please feel free to leave this place immediately with that sorry behind of yours if you don't agree with my terms." Her eyes fire-sparked, "Well, who's first?"
Pansy and Harry bowed their heads, a particular silver blond kept his upright and his curly-haired partner lift up her chin. Minerva held her gaze on the two most defying faces, "For the record, let me officially name the last pair, Mr Draco and Miss Hermione."
You could hear a pin drop on the floor.
"The room of requirement is waiting for you. It will be your dining room for this evening and your sleeping quarters. I strongly advise you to use the rest of the day to clear the air and sleep decently. Indulge the luxury the room has to offer, because from tomorrow on there will be only basic needs. Compared to the facilities inside the stone walls, the cheapest room above the Leaking Cauldron will feel like a five-star accommodation."
Minerva hid her anger behind a cool mask, the childish display moments ago irked her to no end, "Just to be clear, the sleeping arrangements remain separate according to gender. Tonight and at the fortress. Now, head over to the room of requirement and start mending those resentments for the sake of your own skin and ambitions." Waving at the door, she could barely wait until they left to drown her despair with a big glass of Firewhiskey.
"Don't doubt the outcome, Minerva, this was a good decision." The baritone of the beloved former Head Master sounded behind her. She held two fingers against her forehead, "I don't know it anymore Albus, the hate is so alive."
Scrapping his voice the ex-death eater slash spy for the order added his two cents, "I know your biggest uncertainty lies in your doubt if Draco can redeem himself. The boy looks a carbon copy of his father physically, however, inside it's his mother's fire that runs through that blood. I hate to admit as I'm not a fan of the girl, but that know-all-swot might be the key to bring him into the light. They might surprise us all."
Sighing, she waived, "I hope to survive this and see it happen, Severus. I just simply don't know."
- oOo Room of Requirement oOo-
The door was open, waiting for its guests. Lavender led the way, skipping, oblivious to the animosity among the group. The most of them dragged a foot in front of the other, the few walked at a steady pace feeling powerless.
There was no other option than to accept their fate, it was the only hurdle on the path of returning for their last year at Hogwarts. What choice did they have left? They had to cooperate with their enemy, there was no other way around it. They doubted strongly on the sanity of their new Head Mistress, wondering if any rock fell on her head during the battle and jeopardised her common sense.
They entered the mini version of the Great hall, five separate tables each with two chairs in a circle, a flag fluttering with an invisible breeze appointed the tables to each pair, who took their seats under grunting, cursing or sighing.
Neville and Theo
Neville eyed Theo wanting to break the ice, but Theo beat him, "Longbottom man, I don't want to keep grudges alive. I'm really sorry for any pain I inflicted. If war taught me anything, it was to live according to my own beliefs, not someone else's. We were canon meat to them, dispensable. Can we shake hands and try to make it work?" His stretched out hand waited for the young Gryffindor to accept his apologies.
Neville accepted it, he was not a man to keep venom inside his heart, "Just don't give me a reason to regret the offered white flag." While they ate, they debated the challenges they might be up against.
Blaise and Lavender
"I wonder if the fortress has a tower, taking us back to the fairy tale time with a knight to save his princess from her doomed fate," dreaming out loud, Lavender bit on a piece of pudding.
Blaise prayed silently in his head to every god and wizard for patience, "Woman, I start to think that if we succeed at any of those challenges, it will be based on pure luck."
She flashed him her biggest honey-sweet smile, "I know you regret being part of the wrong side of war Blaise, but don't worry I'll take care of you." Batting her eyelashes.
Shaking his head, he eyed her horrified, "That's supposed to calm me down?"
"Relax your stance Bon-Bon, Lav-Lav will attend to all your needs…"
Merlin save me. He checked her out with a sight, doubting heavily on her mental health, Bon-Bon my arse .
Ron and Tracey
Tracey didn't hide her loathing, "Ginger, let me get this straight. I don't like you for one bit."
"Can't agree more, likewise," Ron saluted Tracey mocking, "But, do we have a choice?"
She sneered, "That senile old woman has lost her bits in the war."
"Bitch, I don't like you, you don't like me fine. But refrain from offending a woman has more courage than you'll ever possess and who I respect tremendously. I don't see the benefits of this," Ron's finger circling in the air, "Yet, I'm going with the flow. I suggest you do the same." His eyes roamed over the food until they settled on the biggest turkey leg he could find, "Eat!"
Tracey mumbled, "Neanderthal."
Smiling with his mouth full, he raised the turkey leg, "Nice to meet you!"
Harry and Pansy
Harry wiggled his hands, unable to hide his uneasiness and worry. Parkinson never refrained from bullying him or his friends, and now he was all of a sudden forced to work with her? How in Merlin's name did that sound a good idea to McGonagall?
"Parkinson…"
"Potter, I don't care about you, the golden boy, the boy who lived or the blah-blah-blah title you own nowadays. What I do care about? Return here, my safe haven. If I have to work with you, so be it. We will use our brain and be agile, the muscle I leave it to you every time. Now, we know both pretty much where the brains are in this group." Her finger waved between them, emphasising on the we-word, "WE have one task at hand above our own: make sure those two don't murder each other." Nudging her chin at Draco's and Hermione's table, "There's where the intelligence is. I'm not saying you are dumb," holding her hands up, a fork stuck between her fingers, "We all know this war was won by you, thanks to her witty brain."
Grunting in agreement he nodded, "Are you worried Draco will do something?"
"I fear your girl. If looks could kill, my boy was dead by now. I'm not saying he is a saint, I would be lying if I did. But he suffered; you have no idea to which extent, nor what he had to endure. Imagine this, your father hands you over to a maniac like an offer? Your mother is threatened, right in front of your face? It changes people. Tell me, Potter, what would you do if you were in his place?"
Harry interjected, "I would have fought."
'Sorry I forgot for a moment that I'm talking to Saint Potter." She waved her hand dismissively, sighing, "Anyway, I need your help. Keep your girl in check, I'll keep an eye on my friend. And pray. The two need work together despite her hate."
He hissed at his table companion, "Can you blame Hermione? When did you make her feel welcome? Considered her a friend? Fill me up, please, I must have missed an episode."
She surrendered, "Okay, okay, agreed, we fucked up. To our defence, all this bullshit was fed to us like hot porridge. I am sorry, and if I could go back in time I would be different, act differently. I can't change the past, neither can you. Deal with it."
"Humph, for now, Parkinson."
Draco and Hermione
Hermione was engaged in a staring contest, pulling chunks slowly from a chicken drum and chewing on it. Her scowling face told him a few things: collaborating with a python would be more comfortable. Yet he refused to back down, staring at her apparently unfazed - a mask he learned to master under the scrutiny glare of his father.
"Granger…" he was about to start but snapped his mouth shut at the 'zip it'-gesture she showed him.
"Malfoy, listen very carefully. You will not fuck up my only chance at graduation. I will do whatever it takes to reach that goal. Your sorry arse doesn't need to work thanks to the overstuffed vaults at Gringotts, but I don't have that kind of luxury. I suggest you keep that pure-blood-loving mouth shut unless we need to communicate and you bring your A-game into this, or I'll make you regret your existence." If he had any doubt, her tone cleared them all up; he wasn't stupid to ignore she was a force to be reckoned with, even wandless. She counted on her fingers, "Simple rules: no touching unless necessary, no name calling, no mocking my friends. Fail one, and I'll show you what I can do without a wand. Capiche ?"
"Clear miss Granger, clear as water." He said, thinking, for now.
It was evident to all pairs but one. Their best chance at success rested on the capacity of two people sitting at the quietest table. Also, they knew Hermione was giving the former Death Eater a run for his money; ignoring him completely when she finished with what she had to say.
McGonagall's intention - lay the ground layer for a new era - was doomed to fail. Or so they thought before they headed to the separate dorms for a good night's sleep.