Escalator going down, going down, going down….
Elevator going down, going down, going down….
Everybody going down, going down, going down….
Forgive me if I don't cry,
It's like the Fourth of July,
Thank god that angels can fly,
Down, down, down, going down, down, down,
Going down.
Excerpt from 'Going Down' HAIR Broadway musical soundtrack
Hogwarts, Graduation Day
Harry Potter, Ronald Weasley, and Hermione Granger stood in the office of one Headmaster Dumbledore. This was not the standard meeting with the Headmaster that the three students had become accustomed to over the past seven years. The Headmaster did not sit before them with a semi-stern look upon his face and yet the omni-present twinkle in his eyes, admonishing them in one sentence, and adulating them in the next for multiple rule-breakings, which had once again delayed Voldemort's glorious return to the wizarding world. Nor was this was the weary, aged-looking Headmaster informing them of yet another death that was suffered in the name of this not quite war, not quite peace in the wizarding world. This was a Headmaster with a neutral face, addressing his now former three students offering them a formal title in the battle against Voldemort – a title that older wizards and witches held who had not risked an inkling, not taken a single hex, not spilled a drop of blood, who were blissfully unaware of the presence of Thestrals, and did not wake up in the middle of the night short of breath, covers damp with nasty, unshakeable images in their head.
This was a Headmaster informing Misters Potter and Weasley and Miss Granger that their student titles now disposed of, were official members of the Order of the Phoenix.
Harry nodded his acquiescence quietly, a young man who now perceptibly wore the burden of the wizarding world upon his shoulders. This had not been the laughing, seemingly carefree 'boy who lived' since Sirius' death. Ron eagerly accepted the honorific, elated that he was finally being recognized as an adult, and as an individual of his own merit, with his own capabilities to offer the Order. Hermione stood silently however, her face schooled into a mask of indifference, a mask she had not previously worn in this school, nor this office, nor before these individuals with her, yet one she had practiced in the stillness of her chambers.
"Miss Granger?" Albus shifted slightly forward in his chair, "You will of course be joining Mister Potter and Mister Weasley in the Order. Your talents will be of some significance I daresay." Hermione gently shifted her gaze to the right, away from Albus and away from her schoolhood friends – as though the slight movement could deflect the Headmaster's words.
"No Headmaster, I will not be joining the Order," Hermione stated flatly. At this proclamation Ron started and reddened slightly, turning his face sharply to questioningly gaze at Hermione. Harry simply gazed towards an imperceptible spot on the floor of Dumbledore's office.
"Miss Granger, perhaps you misunderstood me," Albus replied, "your actions of the last seven years…" "No Professor Dumbledore," Hermione interrupted, turning away to face the window that her gaze had been drifting closer and closer towards, "my actions of the last seven years were those dictated as a student, as a friend of Harry, and as someone who has been nearly as nearly ruthlessly manipulated by you as Harry himself."
Albus leaned back in his chair and threaded his fingers together and brought them before his chin. "Miss Granger, I confess not to understand where this accusation of manipulation stems from, but I assure you I have always had Mr. Potter's best interests in mind – and yours as well of course."
Hermione wheeled around sharply to face the Headmaster, her gaze darkening ever so slightly. "No Headmaster, I am not making baseless accusations. For the last seven years you have wielded the strings on all three of us, a nudge hear, an oversight there, but manipulation nonetheless. Hogwarts is supposedly the safest place in all of wizarding Britain and yet four times Voldemort has breeched these walls unimpeded. You've allowed Malfoy and the rest of his junior death eater cronies free reign of this school, leaving myself and the rest of the… mudbloods to fend for ourselves. When my parents were murdered you muttered a few words that were meant to comfort and sent me on my way, as though I should have no expectations of justice to be done on their behalf, and no resentments at the murdering bigots that performed this act. You have allowed pureblooded bigotry to run unchecked in this school, just as it runs rampant outside these walls. No, I have my own agenda now, and I assure you it is not part of your precious order, and it is certainly not subjecting myself to your amusements any longer." At this she turned and stalked towards the office door, only to find it stubbornly refusing to open.
"Miss Granger!" Dumbledore rose from his chair, no twinkle visible in his eyes now, "For what has and has not been allowed to transpire in this school has been for reasons you could not know, and certainly not for reasons that I would have to justify to you."
At this statement Hermione spun around, her stony features had finally cracked into a picture of loathing, her eyes narrowing with a look of anger and hatred. She made to step forward and say something, hesitated, and then at such a soft level that all in the room couldn't be sure of what they heard, "Reasons are not excuses."
Hermione then did something that no one in that office could have foreseen, perhaps not even Dumbledore himself. Hermione, the student who had eagerly recited the mantra against such an action from 'Hogwarts A History' over the years to anyone who would willingly, and even unwillingly, listen did the seemingly impossible. She vanished from the Headmaster's office with the tell tale pop of an apparition.