Synopsis: Hermione secrets are many and frightening. As time goes by, she learns the true meaning of strength and bravery from none other than her feared potions professor.
Warning: This fiction will eventually include strong violent scenes and is not for the faint of heart. I will detail further warnings as particular content is released.
Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter or anything that links back to the J.K. Rowling Universe.
Chapter One:
"Good evening Headmaster," Hermione intoned politely after opening the door to his office.
"Miss Granger, please have a seat," Albus swept his hand toward a chair to Hermione's left. "May I get you a drink, tea, pumpkin juice?" he asked politely.
"No thank you, professor." Hermione took her seat and arranged her robes elegantly, smirking slightly when he offered her his ubiquitous lemon drops.
"I must admit I was quite surprised to receive your request for a meeting and on your 16th birthday no less." The headmaster peered at his charge over half-moon glasses, a twinkle covering the calculation that could only be discerned by the most skilled witches and wizards around.
"And I appreciate your time, but I thought it would be prudent, especially now, to explain that I am in fact, seventeen years old," responded Hermione, looking for all the world as if she were talking to one of her younger classmates and not the most powerful wizard since Merlin himself.
"I beg your pardon?" Albus asked, a furrow appearing between his cerulean eyes. "My dear, I apologize, but even if I were not familiar with your date of birth, your scholastic career would suggest that you have at least one more year before you reach such an auspicious age." The headmaster had sat up, resting his hands on his desk in a rare show of authority.
"And under normal circumstances, sir, I would agree with your assessment. However, if you recall a certain clandestine Time-Turner from my third year here," she vocalized, almost as if she were questioning his retention of that year.
"Yes, of course, but even if you were to advance your age day by day as you did…" The headmaster's voice tapered off, his eyes seeming to bore into the young woman in front of him. "How much did you advance your age, Miss Granger?" His voice was soft, bellying his fear and anger over the new situation.
Hermione, not one to be cowed by the headmaster's dramatic mood change, leveled her gaze at him as she answered. "410 days, sir, give or take a few hours."
Albus straightened up, feeling cold from her answer. He had a horrible idea as to what this meeting was about all of a sudden. "I see, and now I think would be a good time to tell me why you asked for this meeting, Miss Granger."
Hermione sensed his intrusion into her mind, and not for the first time she wondered if he even realized what it is he did on a regular basis to those around him. She provided images of her studying, of how she used her extra time in third year to unlock the secrets behind one of her favorite subjects, Arithmancy, and how she had begun to build a matrix concerning all the players in the upcoming war that she knew of, trying her best to predict patterns and possible outcomes. She knew that even should he wish to deny her access, he would be interested in her discoveries with such high Arithmancy.
"I'd very much like to become a member of the Order of the Phoenix, sir, and I hope that I have something valuable to offer," she responded calmly, not betraying the fact that she felt his intrusion and directed his access accordingly.
Albus closed his eyes wearily, fighting against the sigh that had almost erupted at her words. "Miss Granger, you are a student under my care, and I cannot-"
"Professor Snape was still a student when you enlisted him as your spy within the Death Eaters," Hermione parried sharply, cutting off the headmaster for the first time, ever.
"How did you…" the headmaster began, but quickly closed his mouth as he realized what he'd just said.
Hermione rose to her feet, her eyes lit like burning coals in the subdued lighting. "I didn't, Headmaster, not until now." She swept over to the grate, the fire happily ignoring the arctic temperature between student and mentor. With her back to the leader of the Order of the Phoenix, Hermione continued. "I see what it is you're trying to do for Harry, but you're doing him no favors. He'll learn to despise you for the secrets you keep from him, and if you really think that Harry will just allow you to lead him along without full disclosure, then you obviously don't know him all all."
Albus had stood as well, coming around to prop himself against his desk. "And what do you think I am keeping from him?" Not to be fooled twice, the headmaster kept his tone light and unobtrusive.
Instead of answering, Hermione asked, "Why would you allow three first year students to access a forbidden corridor in order to save the Philosopher's stone? Why would you allow Harry and Ron to go down the Chamber of Secrets to face a basilisk? Better yet, why was it Harry's and my responsibility to save Sirius and Buckbeak in our third year? Or why didn't you place the Goblet of Fire in your office where dozens of nosy portraits bound to your will could keep an eye out for any foul play?" Hermione was facing Albus once more, fury etched into ever line of her body. Even said portraits could tell that her litany had raised astonishment as she continued.
"I know you are as human as the rest of us, but Harry, Ron and I are YOUNGER than you! What purpose could you have for us, for Harry if not to groom him toward a certain end? Why would Voldemort go after a family who was by all rights trying to stay off the radar by the time he got around to finding and killing them?" She stopped, visibly pulling herself together as she straightened, much like the professor had done just moments ago. "Obviously Voldemort fears Harry for some reason, otherwise why would he pursue a baby cum teenager to the exclusion of everything else? The only question I really have now is: why does everyone seem to think that Harry is the linchpin, including you?"
Hermione had practically slithered up to the headmaster while she spoke, and now stood only a few short meters away from him, daring him to lie or prevaricate in any way. She could see the wheels turning in his mind; even if she couldn't read his thoughts as well as she could protect her own. Yet, before she allowed Albus to evade her, she went for the kill. "Harry thinks you're ignoring him because of all the bad press this year. If only he understood the connection he shares with Lord Voldemort. I feel it too when I make eye contact with him. I know why you're staying away from him, but Harry needs you. He needs your support."
Stunned silence descended between the two individuals, Albus narrowly avoiding displaying his thoughts too freely as he had previously, trying once more to affect a grandfatherly air. When Hermione proceeded to arch one eyebrow in silent inquiry, Albus suddenly felt as if it was his dour potion's master inhabiting this younger woman's mind, and not the studious, lively girl he would have recognized anywhere else.
And still, his mind returned to what she had said. She sensed it too? What did that mean? Was she, could she be an Occlumens? Outrageous! Albus thought. But still, it did seem rather unlikely that she would understand the dilemma he found himself in unless she was able to deduce it somehow, which only lead back to Occlumency. Frustrated with the circular argument, Albus sighed through his nose, gazing at his charge as if he was seeing her fully for the first time.
"Are you able to block your mind from mental intrusion?" Albus simply asked, weariness creeping into his voice.
"Yes," Hermione answered, not elaborating in any way. It seemed as if her penchant for excitable exclamations had departed her new personality as well, Albus thought. But then, if she could mask her thoughts and feelings from Legillimency attacks, then it wouldn't be too far of a stretch to assume that the façade her friends and professors witnessed on a daily basis was born of self-preservation, much like Occlumency generally was for the young connoisseur. He wished to delve into her reasons for learning such a skill, but instinctively doubted she would be willing to impart secrets that she was clearly protecting with her limitless capacity. Instead, he refocused on the conversation, realizing at once its inevitable conclusion.
Miss Granger knew too much already, thus he would be forced to induct her into the Order, if for no other reason than to protect its interests. And, recalling the arithmantic matrix she gave him a glimpse of earlier, perhaps she did possess a skill that could be useful to the Light in the coming months.
"I see. Please, retake your seat while I summon a bonder," Albus intoned, not unkindly as he moved to the fireplace near the chair Hermione was striding for once again.
She paused briefly, turning over her shoulder to ask, "Bonder?"
"Yes, for your induction," Albus responded, his back now facing her. "While not a potent as an Unbreakable Vow, the promises you'll make tonight will ensure the Order's safety, which should prevent another Pettigrew from infiltrating our midst."
"Of course," Hermione said, realizing her nod would go unseen by the man who now crouched in front of the fireplace, a pinch of floo powder primed and ready.
"Professor Severus Snape's office!" Albus bellowed.
Oh dear thought Hermione, her face draining of what little color it had.