Hermione was seething. You could hear her hair crackling with the energy she was trying to contain. She couldn't believe that Dumbledore engineered everything. He never considered anyone else's opinion. He thought himself a god, the master chess player. It was only sheer luck that both Harry and Sev, uh, Professor Snape survived. If only...but no, no need to worry about the if onlys. A memory struck her, potent enough to get through her angry ruminations, of a vague quotation in an obscure book in the Restricted Section of the Library.
Harry looked up at his best friend and inquired, "Hermione, do you need some help? You've got that look in your eye."
"No, Harry," she responded in a tone of fond exasperation, "I just thought of something I need to research."
"Of course, Hermione. I'm glad some things haven't changed!" Harry seemed to get lost in a reminiscence at that point.
Hermione swiftly walked to the library. She stomped carefully (it was a library, after all) to the part of the Restricted Section that housed the books that spoke of souls caught between the worlds. Ah, there it was: iSpells That Can Affect the Hereafter/i. She quickly paged through to the section she remembered. And then she smiled. If anyone had seen that smile, they would have been very, very frightened.
"A wizard or witch with a talent for flames may, at great risk to themselves, call for the flames of Magical Justice to burn a soul that is in purgatory until such time as the soul repents. This requires a magical portrait or other magi-soul imbued item of the person who is to be tried. If the witch or wizard is wrong, and the person in question is innocent of the crimes he or she is accused of, the accuser will burn until such time as they repent the action truly."
Hermione was very talented with flames. She could call a bluebell flame at age 12. She set Professor Snape's robes on fire. She made sure the fires were controlled yet warming when they were in the Forest of Dean. She knew she could do this.
It wasn't really a spell, more of an invocation. She memorized it, and stalked determinedly to the Headmaster's office. She knew she had to do this before she lost her nerve, or was convinced that she should not be the one to mete out justice.
She strode in confidently. "Hello, Professor Dumbledore." she greeted the portrait.
"Hello, child." he responded. "I always knew that you would manage to figure it all out and help Harry."
"But I didn't, sir. You sent the Headmaster to his death, and even then it was only chance that we were able to figure out what was needed." Hermione wasn't pulling any punches.
"It was not chance, Hermione. I knew what I was doing. It had to work." Dumbledore was quite certain of his place in the world he created.
"Well, sir, if you knew that, then you know what I'm going to do next is necessary." She stated as she pulled out her wand.
"Miss Granger, you really should not be doing magic in here!" Dumbledore emphatically did not want to deal with this little witch. She looked far too determined for his present state of being. He started out of his frame when Hermione pointed her wand directly at him and started to chant.
"IServo glacialis in locus. Ego accerso Justicia! Veneficus Temerarius meus dico. Si is est mereo mereor may incendia exuro is crimus is prodiglum insquequo is! Ego oro vobis, Veneficus, in nomen of Harry James Potter quod Severus Tobias Snape, reperio justicia in meus flamma/I!"
She finished her chant and braced herself, eyes closed, waiting for Magic to find her lacking and immolate her.
"Open your eyes, you silly chit!"
Hermione turned toward the now familiar sound and slowly opened her eyes. Phineas Black spoke to her from his portrait across the room.
"Only a Mudblood. You work an amazing piece of magic, you punish a man who thought himself above it all, and you CLOSE YOUR EYES?!" Oddly, this wasn't as derisive a tone as he usually used.
She quickly spun back to see the portrait of Dumbledore, and it was completely in flames, the man trapped within, screaming something about how it was for the greater good.
Hermione smiled to herself as she walked out of the office. What she had done may not have been for the greater good, but it certainly felt right.
A/N: I used a Latin translation site, so if someone can help me make it better, please let me know. The plea to magic: "Freeze in place. I call on Justice. Magic hear my plea. Let this soul burn if his crimes warrant it. I call on Magic in the names of Harry James Potter and Severus Tobias Snape, find Justice through my flames!"