Disclaimer: Stick with me baby, I'm the Harry Potter you came in with. Luck be JK Rowling tonight.
A/N: This has been done for some time, but I'm still not finished with the next chapter. Doing that parenting thing once again took precedent. I have picked up working several in-progress stories, though!
Harry Potter and the Story Breakers
Chapter Two
Ingenuity
"Are you sure he's not in the castle?" Ron asked for the seventh time.
Unfortunately, Hermione had to be precise; to answer otherwise would be to lie, and Hermione Granger doesn't lie. Except when she has to, but that doesn't count. "No, all I can say with certainty is that he wasn't here the last time I checked two minutes and thirty-seven seconds ago." She glared at the folded-up, deactivated Marauder's Map in her hand again, and through it, at the Marauders behind its creation. Of course she had long since replicated the enchantment on her own, but her version of the map was far less complete. That was because the creator had to know each room very well, which meant the infinitely flexible Room of Requirement could not possibly be added. So, while she knew most rooms in the castle, there were many places she simply would not go and rooms she could not add.
She mentally glared again at the thought of James Potter and Sirius Black knowing the details of even the Slytherin girls' dormitory showers. She suspected that Harry's Invisibility Cloak played no small part in their reconnaissance.
"Well, check again, why don't you? Dumbledore said he could be anywhere." He repeated that bit of wisdom as if it might help them find Harry. "Actually, just leave it out and I'll watch it."
Hermione paused in her pacing, realizing that that was actually a fantastic idea. She always forgot that Ron didn't do the whole "thinking in silence" thing very well. In a moment she had the Map open to her, her wand aloft. She had to stop herself from using the pass phrase to her own copy, a properly bastardized Latin pass phrase that translated to something like, "knowledge is power, guard it well." Of course, she never said it where anyone who might know Latin might hear...someone might get the wrong idea that she was planning to take over the world or something. Well, someone might get ideas they ought not to have, anyway. With a token nose-wrinkle of disgust and as much dignity as she could muster, she incanted, "I solemnly swear I am up to no good."
She spread the Map out on the table in front of Ron and resumed her pacing about the Room of Requirement. Since she failed to include the Room on her own map, they'd come here to look for Harry as soon as Dumbledore stopped by the Gryffindor common room to ask after him. The reminder of her failure already rankled, and being forced to wait for Ron to extract various body parts from Lavender didn't help. And then enduring his stammering, mumbling embarrassment when he accidentally conjured a sex dungeon in the Room before Hermione had to fix it herself just made her want to throttle him...and Harry for good measure. And then masturbate furiously, because fuck, she was horny now.
"Hey, there he is!" Ron said triumphantly, jabbing a finger at the Map. Told ya!"
Hermione stumbled in her pacing and spun to face him. "What?"
"Right there! With Katie in...a Gryffindor girls' dormitory bathroom? How'd he get up there?" Ron scratched his head. "They're, like, hugging and jumping up and down or something. I wonder what the good news is?"
Hermione snatched up the Map and stared. She bit her lip and cursed inwardly at her raging hormones. If this was what Felix Felicis meant by making the drinker lucky, then perhaps she'd have to brew her own pronto. A brief glance at Ron and her first foolish thought was quickly discarded. A vapid, attention-seeking slag Lavender may be, but best to let her be the one ruin it. She doubted he would have a lick of stamina for what she wanted, anyway. Her second foolish thought was discarded almost as briefly, though the thought of Katie being there gave her pause. Would Harry...? No, no, no, no, no, that was a bad idea. Not only would that ruin her first friendship, but Katie's body was far better than her own, she hated to admit.
No, it was definitely time for a date with Luke. She'd held out long enough, hadn't she? Almost a full month! This would be the last time, she swore again. Vindictively she considered enchanting one for Lavender so that she would be the one ruined of wizards for good, but surely Hermione wasn't that cruel. Surely not.
She would call it Obi-Wand.
"Hermione?"
"Yes, Ron...good news, that must have been it," she said wryly. "You can go back to Lav-Lav now."
He blushed red as he jumped out of the chair. "Thanks!"
Hermione sighed and followed him to the door, but as soon as he stepped out, a flash of red struck him from the side and Ron collapsed unceremoniously to the floor. Hermione had just pulled her wand, her own Stunner on her lips when Daphne Greengrass rounded the corner, fury evident in her dark blue eyes and mussed blonde hair, tugging a hapless, red-faced Tracey Davis around by her tie.
"Where's Potter? Where is he, Granger?" The venom in Daphne's voice shocked Hermione.
"I-I don't know," she said, fidgeting with the front of her robe with her non-wand hand to make sure the Map wasn't visible. "Dumbledore said he was missing and we came here to look for him."
Slowly, the tension melted out of the long blonde-haired Slytherin, but not the anger. "Damn it!" She spun around and marched back out, kicking Ron's foot out of her way.
"Wait, what did he do?" Hermione called out once she regained her senses. The fact that Daphne hadn't started throwing curses first and asking questions later was a positive sign, but she needed to know how to properly warn Harry.
"It's not that big of a-" Tracey began, but Daphne hissed and jerked the other's tie to shut her up.
She turned her head back and narrowed her eyes. "Let's just say you better hope you find him first, Granger."
Hermione swallowed thickly as Daphne led Tracey away like a slave. Like a sex slave. As if any moment the former would drop the latter to her knees and grab a fistful of hair and make her...and what if Daphne found Harry? It was almost as if she wanted to strip him, tie him up, and...
If there was any doubt about Luke's upcoming visit, that display just shattered it.
"What are you so happy about this morning?" Ron asked when Hermione made her way down to the common room the next morning.
A rather beatific smile spread across her face. "The same thing Harry's happy about, I imagine."
"He told you the good news already? I still haven't even seen him!" He scowled as he rested his right foot on his left knee to rub it.
"Something like that," Hermione said serenely.
"And my foot still hurts," he whined. "I can't believe I tripped and fell again and forgot. That never happens when I'm with Lavender."
"No, I suppose it wouldn't," Hermione said, still too happily sated from the night before - and twice more this morning - to be annoyed by that remark.
Ron continued to grumble, apparently unconcerned with Hermione's lack of concern, until he made her jump by loudly calling out. "Oi, Katie! Have you seen Harry this morning?"
Hermione swiveled her head around in time to see her pause on her way toward the boys' dormitory and blush deeply. "No, why would I have?"
"Because you-ow!" Ron glared at her as he tucked his foot under his other leg so as to hide it from her. "Right in my sore spot! What was that for, Hermione?"
"Nevermind, glad to see you back, Katie," Hermione called out with a smile and a wave. "We'll see you later?"
Katie nodded and tried to hide her blush as she darted up the opposite spiral staircase, no doubt to fetch something for Harry. Now that Hermione thought about it, it seemed obvious the older girl had harbored a bit of a crush on Harry for some time now. But then, most girls did at some point, at least when they weren't either angry at or scared of him. Katie's single-mindedness when it came to Quidditch was a colossal waste of time, of course - an unfortunate personality quirk shared the redhead currently ranting at her - but at least did her credit in that she never cared about the rumors surrounding him.
Katie was satisfactory, Hermione decided.
"Hey guys, ever find Harry?" Ginny Weasley sauntered her way over, her ruby red hair blowing around her perfect face in some nonexistent breeze.
Hermione thought it a crime that someone could look so damned pretty. None of the girls in fifth year except Luna actually liked Ginny; mostly they just hung around to pick up the guys that she turned down. She continually claimed to be in love with Harry, but she'd also continually failed to capture his attention - sometimes quite amusingly, some evil part of Hermione added - until this year. In a completely bizarre twist of fate, Hermione's subtle insinuation to give the hell up and stop bothering her with that nonsense (which came out as something closer to, "perhaps try dating someone else" and included some utter garbage about "if it's meant to be..."), had actually worked. Harry had definitely shot the girl longing looks on several occasions this year while she dated other boys.
"Kinda," Ron said, bringing Hermione back to the present, "he was-ow!" Ron quickly tucked both feet under him now. "Come on, my other foot, Hermione?"
"Oh, stop being a baby," Hermione chided. She barely even kicked him.
"You guys are so cute," Ginny said, winking at her.
"He'll be down in a bit," Hermione said, ignoring the comment.
"How do you know that? I haven't even..." Ron's incredulous question was cut short by Hermione's raised eyebrow. "...ah...right. Well, there's Lav," he said quickly, jumping up onto his supposedly pain-wracked feet to scurry away. She barely heard his muttered, "see you later."
Ginny sighed. "He really is clueless, isn't he?"
"He does make me wonder sometimes," Hermione replied noncommittally. She wasn't quite sure about her feelings toward her two best friends anymore. Harry was too...Harry, and Ron was the only one who knew what all that entailed. Even Ginny, Neville, and Luna, who had accompanied them to the Ministry, had only had a small taste of that. On the other hand, Harry was the one that would actually support her ambitions. Without Harry there, would Ron do so as well? Well, he would, she supposed, because she would make him, but did she really want to continue to have to explain her every action for the rest of her life?
She was only seventeen, so it was too early to think about that kind of thing, no matter what wizarding world tradition expected. If there was one thing Hermione Granger lacked, it was the blind acceptance of wizarding world traditions that held back entire races of magical beings, let alone young witches with grand plans for the future.
"Hey, Katie's back," Ginny said, the surprise in her voice bringing Hermione back to the present. "What was she doing up in the boys' dorm?"
"I dunno," she said. She was telling the truth, after all; she only had a pretty certain idea. "Looking for Harry, maybe? Knowing her, she's probably anxious to get back on the Quidditch pitch."
Ginny frowned, no doubt thinking about the repercussions of her boyfriend, Dean Thomas, not being on the team anymore. "Mmm," she hummed, which almost came out like a moan.
Had Hermione not just taken care of her urges so thoroughly, she might have thought about the time she and Ginny had "practiced" with each other; her for Harry, Hermione for Ron. Well, she might have thought about it a little more enviously. By unspoken agreement, they had never brought up what happened, nor whose fault it was that it went as far as it had. Of course, she wasn't the one who lifted up the other girl's shirt and bra and wrapped her pouty red lips around-Hermione cut off the reminiscence. She didn't need to think about that time with the impossibly beautiful and thoroughly natural redhead just now.
"So where was Harry that Dumbledore came looking for him?"
Hermione shrugged, and she thought she saw a flash of bare feet making their way up the staircase to the boys' dormitory. "With Hagrid, I believe. He got a note the other day that Hagrid's giant spider died and the burial was yesterday."
Ginny turned a bit green. "I know Ron would never go to that. You didn't go either?"
"Ugh, no thank you," Hermione said honestly, making a face. If anything good came out of being petrified, it was missing the adventure into the acromantula lair back in their second year. And the basilisk fight. Now that it was over, she felt quite content with missing that one.
"But why didn't Dumbledore know where he was, then?"
Hermione shrugged again. "You know Harry. He probably stayed with Hagrid to make sure he was okay, put him to bed, fed his dog, tended to whatever terrifying creatures he's showing off to his classes, visited his old acromantula buddies to see how they were getting along...you know, typical Harry. If he's not risking his life, he's not doing enough."
"Yeah," Ginny agreed absentmindedly, still apparently deep in thought.
Speaking of which, now that she could think straight, Hermione really wanted to get back to her own projects. She'd put off resolving the issue with her new charm until she and Luna could speak about it, as painful as that would be. The way that girl buried brilliant insight under mountains of rubbish could be maddening, but most of the time it was worth it. So, replicating the enchantments on-
"Harry! There you are!" Ginny hopped up and smoothed her robe and her hair before sauntering over to him. The illusion of grace shattered when she tripped over nothing and fell face-first into his nether-regions, with her hands firmly grabbing his bum.
His jovial laugh confirmed to Hermione what she supposed about last night, and she couldn't help but feel happy for him. If anybody needed to laugh like that these days, it was Harry. "Well, good morning to you as well, Ginny." He chuckled again at the redhead's obvious mortification as he helped her up. "Dean should be down in a bit." Then Hermione indulged in just the slightest bit of schadenfreude when Harry turned away from Ginny, prepared to completely ignore her. Katie must have really done a number on him last night to change his mind so thoroughly. "Hermione," he said, happiness still plain in his voice, "have I got a story for you. C'mon, I'll tell you on the way to breakfast." He threw her a crooked smile and gestured toward the exit.
She couldn't help but smile back just as widely as she stood, but then she remembered something. "Oh! Maybe that's not such a good idea..." She leaned in to whisper. "Daphne Greengrass was looking for you last night."
Harry came to a halt and grimaced at that. "Er, she didn't hurt you at all, did she?"
She raised an eyebrow and gave him a half-smile. "No, nothing bad happened."
He let out a relieved breath. "Good. That's good." Then he continued walking toward the portrait hole.
"Um, Harry? Daphne?"
"Ah," he said, giving Hermione a cheeky grin, "but I have a good feeling about going right now."
"You've got a lot of nerve showing your face around here, Potter," Daphne spat after she marched up to the Gryffindor table, Tracey, as ever, in tow.
Most of the hall turned to watch, though she was speaking low enough that most were out of earshot. "I would say to get used to it since you'll be seeing a lot more of me," Harry replied coolly, but then he grinned. "But I don't think that's really possible, now is it?"
Hermione's eyes bugged out of her head. He didn't tell her this part! At least Daphne didn't look nearly as angry as she did last night.
"Ugh, don't remind me. Disgusting." She made a face, then turned to look at Hermione. "You're lucky you found him first."
"I thought you were-" Hermione began, but Daphne cut her off with a haughty sniff.
"Tracey...told me...that it wasn't so bad as I thought," she said, and the silent brunette's lips twitched into a small smile. "But not a word from you, Potter, or I finish what I started."
"I won't even tell Hermione," he promised. The sincerity in his voice made Hermione curse silently. But she didn't need to know. She really didn't.
Tracey whispered in Daphne's ear, causing the pretty blonde's eyes to flick down to Hermione's chest. Then Daphne pursed her lips as if holding back a smile. "You may tell her, but only her." One more glance at Hermione's chest, and the two Slytherins walked off, whispering heatedly to each other.
Before Hermione could decide whether to feel titillated or offended by that, the post owls swooped in through the high windows of the Great Hall, and her copy of the Daily Prophet dropped in front of her with a headline that made her breath catch in her throat.
BELLATRIX LESTRANGE FOUND DEAD IN AUROR HOLDING CELLS
She turned to see a deep frown on her best friend's face. "Harry, I think you left out a few details about last night."
He nodded grimly, and promised, "later." They ate in silence until Dumbledore came and whisked Harry away, probably to discuss last night. Hermione had read that Bellatrix had been nude and stabbed through the stomach, causing her to look up sharply only to realize he was no longer there. The other news was pretty typical, except for an odd story about a break-in reported at a Ministry official's house, but the official refused to report any details.
Harry came back and led Hermione up to the Room of Requirement, where, shortly after he recited some of the events, she felt like vomiting up everything she had ever eaten. "Umbridge? Oh, Harry, you poor thing."
"But I killed Bellatrix..." He looked confused, and she got the feeling he thought he should feel more anguished about it.
"An accident," she said, waving it away. "But you saw Umbridge n-" Hermione began, but she had to pause to swallow the bile rising in her throat. "-naked," she squeaked out.
"I didn't say anything about-" Harry began weakly, looking rather ill.
"Oh gods, can you imagine the flab-"
"Stop! I don't need to imagine and I don't want to remember!" Then his eyes widened. "Obliviate me."
"What?"
"Obliviate me, please, Hermione! Please Obliviate me!"
"I-I haven't researched how to excise particular memories, Harry. I'd only be able to make you forget the past half a day or so. And you don't want to forget..."
The look of desperation slowly melted off his face, to be replaced the same kind of smile Hermione wore earlier that morning. "No, not that. Definitely not that."
"Well there you have it. Focus on Katie's firm, athletic bum, shapely breasts, her nice, full lips..."
Harry's eyes shot open. "Um, Hermione..."
"Hmmm?" Her hum came out a little more sensual than she intended, and she felt the blood rush to her face. What was wrong with her these days?
Harry gave a her an odd look. "I thought you liked Ron?"
She huffed. "I might have before. I'm not so sure what I was thinking, now."
Harry nodded his acceptance, and Hermione felt a wave of gratitude for him. That was Harry, always accepting of her, never judging- "Do you like girls?" The wave came crashing down.
"What?"
He held his hands up. "Hey, I'm not judging!"
Hermione stood and glared down at him. "You're just thinking of Daphne and Tracey, aren't you?" His blush gave him away. "You are! You better not-" She gasped. "You...are you picturing me with them?" He blushed deeper. "Harry James Potter!"
"Hey, I'm sorry, okay? I'm a guy, I can't help my raging teenage hormones!"
His repeat of the phrase that she herself used internally on several occasions cooled her indignation. "I don't know," she said finally, looking at her best friend nervously out of the corner of her eye. She felt a bit wretched, since that is exactly what she was afraid of when she created Luke. She had been thinking of girls lately, but on the other hand...she wasn't ignorant of Harry's...qualities. She remembered Harry pressing up against her on occasions that she'd surprised him with a hug, and there were even dreams about which she felt rather awkward and which she would never act upon. Still, she was pretty sure she didn't like girls. Or, only girls, at least. "I'll have to think about it."
This time, he stood and his smile was devoid of the previous cheek. "As long as you're happy, Hermione, that's good enough for me."
She gave him a relieved smile at that and wrapped him into a tight hug. And felt him pressing against her stomach again. "Damn it, Harry."
"Sorry, Hermione."
"Ledifius," Hermione incanted, executing a perfect jab, north flick, nine hundred degree clockwise outward swirl, infinity, southwest flick, two hundred seventy degree anticlockwise arc, sowilo, ansuz, thurisaz, southeast swipe into pirouette, and a twisting jab to finish it off.
"Wow," Harry said from his vantage point near the door.
Hermione spun around and blushed when she realized the entire group had stayed behind to watch.
"Hermione," Luna's mellifluous voice said, "do you want to continue another time, once the wrackspurts have dispersed?"
"No," she said quickly. "What do you know about Geoffrey Chaucer?"
"The Father of British Literature? I know The Canterbury Tales is his best known work but Troilus and Criseyde is by far his finest work." Luna tilted her head in thought. "Hmm, I don't remember reading either one." Then her eyes widened. "Did you use those wrackspurts to transfer information to me?"
Hermione sighed. "No, it wasn't supposed to transfer at all," she said, playing along, hoping the other girl would identify why she thought the imaginary creatures carried that information, and how to stop it.
Harry whistled. "Wow, somehow I knew the same thing! What was that charm, Hermione?"
"It's a modified Fludd-Baconian Reverse of the Fidelius Charm. I thought I could replace our DA galleons with a spell to simply insert the information directly into members' minds. It takes an active thought on the part of the recipient to bring up the memory, but I figure we can set a specific time each day at which we'll all think about when the next meeting is." She said all this in a single breath, then sighed deeply. "The problem is, I can't seem to limit it to certain people-or even just to myself."
Harry blinked at her. "Wait...what?"
Hermione huffed. "I said-"
"No, no, no, I heard you," Harry said, then he pulled his wand. "Ledifius," he said confidently, then executed a surprisingly decent jab, north flick, nine hundred degree clockwise outward swirl, infinity, southwest flick, two hundred seventy degree anticlockwise arc, sowilo, ansuz, thurisaz, southeast swipe into pirouette, and finally a twisting jab.
Hermione gaped at him. "H-how did you do that? You only saw it once!"
Harry grinned. "Got lucky. Hey, Luna, what do you know about Hermione?"
"Oh, plenty," Luna said, smiling happily at the older girl. "She exudes intelligence but lacks wisdom, open-minded about what she can see but closed-minded about what she can't, infinitely knowledgable about facts but ignorant of feelings, honest to everyone but except herself, and she has a fine rack." Luna blinked owlishly and scratched her scraggly, platinum blonde hair. "Funny, I don't recall seeing them. Hermione, do you mind if I-"
The cupping motions Luna was making at her combined with the snickering from the direction of the door finally made Hermione realize what the odd Ravenclaw said after the stinging string of apparent contradictions in her behavior. Her eyes snapped to Harry only to find that he was no longer there. "Potter!"
"Excuse me, may I have your attention please?" Hermione glanced up to see one of her classmates, and Harry's roommate, standing on the bench at the Gryffindor table. "My name is Seamus Finnegan, just in case you were wondering about me. That's all."
She stared at the widely-grinning Irish wizard, trying to figure out what that meant. Then she recognized a few snippets of conversation from the Hufflepuff table including the phrases "hung like a hippogriff" and "shags like a stallion." Then she realized she already knew that. "Seamus, you cheeky-"
"Oh, let him have his fun," Harry said as he sat down next to her.
"It's your fault my experimental charm is being used for such vile purposes, you know."
"It's not so bad," Harry said with a grin. "He didn't really think that one through: just think of their disappointment if they actually do see him naked."
She snorted at that, but then remembered she was still angry with him, so she shot him a glare. "You're just lucky that I verified the maximum range," she said, still mortified at the thought of her parents 'knowing' she had a fine rack. "You could have ruined his sex life forever like that."
"I?" Harry affected a shocked and innocent expression. "Why, I merely shared my ability with a friend who asked a favor...and quite generously I might add. He only asked for the 'hung like a horse' bit, but the part I added might actually be true."
"How benevolent of you," she replied, rolling her eyes.
"Actually, this was a bit of a test," Harry said. "How convinced would you say they are?"
She glanced around and felt her hope for wizard-kind die a little. "It looks like at least some people are giving him skeptical glances," she hedged.
"But most aren't," he finished. "So come on, let's go meet some old friends of mine." He held out a hand to help her to her feet.
She raised an eyebrow. "Oh, so you're a gentleman, now?"
He grinned. "Only for the ladies with fine-"
"Don't you dare-"
"-manners. What?" His look of innocence was ruined by the grin he couldn't keep off his face. "Don't look at me like that. Also, in point of fact, I was actually going for 'fantastic' but I must have done the spell wrong."
"Harry!" Hermione elbowed him in the kidney. "You realize you did the same thing to me as you did to Seamus."
"No, I didn't," he said, still giving her his dashing, crooked smile despite his mock yelp only moments earlier.
"How is it different?"
He raised an eyebrow back at her. "Those hugs go two ways, you know." She blushed and looked away. "Also, you looked really nice at the Slug Club party. I don't think I ever told you that."
Her mouth opened and closed as she tried to decide whether to swoon or swat him. She felt even more flushed. "Were you staring at my chest, Potter?"
"As if I would do anything so crass! I merely stole a glance or six when I felt it was safe. And when Luna mentioned them. I couldn't be rude and refuse my date such a simple request, after all."
"You...Luna...? What has gotten into-oh. Oh!" Hermione stopped mid-stride to wonder why was the Felix Felicis making him talk to her like this, only to realize Harry had turned to walk across the Hall to...the Slytherin table? Her eyes quickly scanned it and spotted Daphne and Tracey, then swept back to glare at Harry anew. She took a moment to mutter darkly about evil, horny little luck potions, then scurried over to catch up with Harry.
"What do you think you're doing here, Potter?"
Hermione was unsurprised to hear Pansy's voice instead of Draco's. The latter had been withdrawn all year, and Harry maintained it was due to all the cursing and poisoning attempts on the Headmaster. Hermione had her doubts. Draco's father, Lucius Malfoy, was imprisoned in Azkaban after his failed attempt to capture Harry at the Ministry last year. The man was a complete and utter bastard, but having his father waste away at the mercy of Dementors was more than enough to cause Draco this much distress. Hermione wasn't sure she would wish that on anyone. She absently brought her hand up to the area just below her breasts, where a light scar remained from the dark curse that struck her last year. Well, she wouldn't shed any tears if something horrible happened to Dolohov.
"Hello, Pansy," Harry said cheerfully, causing the girl and several others - including Daphne, Hermione noted - to narrow their eyes at him. He seemed quite unconcerned. "I found out something rather interesting the other day, and I wanted to know if Draco already knew."
"Draco has nothing to say to-"
"Quiet, Pansy," Draco cut in finally. His voice sounded as ragged as he looked. Hermione frowned, wondering why he seemed to be getting worse as time went on. "Make it quick, Potter, and this better not be about that Bell slag again."
Harry's smile faded. "No, Katie is perfectly healthy, you'll be pleased to know. Bad business, that, having an attempted murderer so close at least seems less scary than an actual murderer."
The haggard Slytherin's face darkened even further. "Are you done?"
Harry waved him off. "Oh no, merely assuaging your stated concern over my friend. No, I'm merely wondering if you knew about a man named Tom Marvolo Riddle?"
A light bulb clicked on in Hermione's head and her mouth parted slightly in surprise.
Draco scowled. "Of course I do, but why would I care about some half-blood?"
Hermione could see the smirk hidden behind his solemn mask. "His mother was Merope Gaunt, a fallen, old House, descended from Slytherin, wasn't it? Gave him the name of his father, a Muggle."
The pale boy's face twitched in annoyance. "Everybody knows that, Potter, get to the point!" Hermione guessed, by his expression, that there was new information there.
"He changed his name," Harry pressed onward, pulling a sheet of parchment from his robes and dropping it onto the table, "sometime between his two rejected applications for the Defense Against the Arts position, first by Headmaster Dippet and then by Dumbledore. An anagram of his given name. Perhaps you've heard what he calls himself today." With that, Harry tapped his wand on the parchment, and the letters duplicated and rearranged themselves.
Draco's eyes widened and snapped up to Harry, where they narrowed once again. "Is this your idea of a joke, Potter?"
Harry shrugged, seemingly unconcerned. "If it is, it's impressive how well it all fits. The Gaunts disappear mysteriously, but a Dark Lord without a pure-blood name appears out of nowhere with the ability to speak parseltongue?"
"You can, too, that doesn't mean anything," Pansy countered, finally finding her voice after being shushed by Draco.
Harry smiled and tapped his scar, which Hermione only just now realized was beginning to fade. "This thing isn't just for show, you know. The Killing Curse doesn't leave a mark, so obviously this is something else. I can do it because he can. Makes you wonder, doesn't it? How could he have messed up so badly? Not only did he fail to kill an infant, but he transferred some of his power to that infant as well." His smile widened, taking on an almost feral look. "Perhaps he would have succeeded if he were a pure-blood, yes?"
Hermione opened her mouth to protest, but he quickly silenced her with a wink.
"Or is the link between power and blood purity a load of shit?"
"Shut up," Draco said.
"He knows it is, doesn't he? Otherwise he and Dumbledore, also a half-blood, wouldn't be the most powerful wizards in the country. I bet he just laughs about it all the time, using so many pure-bloods to do his bidding all in the name of something he knows isn't true. But he tells them it is just to keep them in line." Harry laughed mirthlessly. "Now there's my idea of a joke!"
"I said shut up!" Draco stood, trembling with rage.
"Or what, Draco? Are you going to prove the superiority of pure-bloods by following the orders of a half-blood and attacking a different half-blood?"
"You're lying!"
"Am I? Well, I guess you'll have to find out. Or continue blindly following a half-blood, I suppose, pretending you don't know. Your call."
It took a second, but Hermione snapped out of her slack-jawed surprise at Harry's act of impressive cunning to note that he'd already left. She looked back to see a whole lot of Slytherins looking like Harry just defecated in their cereal...one exception being Tracey Davis. The butch brunette looked like she was barely holding back a smirk, and she meaningfully flicked her eyes and nodded toward Harry, then raised a seductive eyebrow.
Hermione's cheeks pinked at her look and she dashed away before the other girl could get any other ideas.
Having fixed the problems with the Reverse-Fidelius Charm - once again Luna came through - Hermione put the finishing touches on the explanation in her thesis for the Charms year-end project. The surprisingly insightful little Ravenclaw suggested that, as a reversal of the Fidelius Charm, she needed a Secret-Not-Keeper that would never know what information she was sharing, and theoretically could erase the knowledge if that person could untell everyone that knew. And that was not to mention the way that the spiral and pirouette spread the wrackspurts. So it was a much lengthier sequence now, since it required more power to get the same range. In other words, just letting the information be broadcast to everyone is far easier than directing it to specific people, an effect which was likely an inversion of the Fidelius Gap, the Arithmantic term that represented the increase in power needed to overcome the number of people that knew the secret before it the Charm was cast.
It wasn't a perfect Charm by any means - the recipient of the broadcasted knowledge had to actively think of the subject in order to access the information. It made their charmed Dumbledore's Army galleons obsolete, which was the source of the idea last year when she was concerned someone would lose the galleon, or perhaps spend it. It wouldn't be useful for messaging, so it couldn't replace owls, but it could be useful for coordination among Aurors, for example. In addition, her previous version could be used for teaching or general information-sharing purposes.
She signed with a flourish, and leaned back in her chair with a contented sigh. Signing her name to such an extensive dissertation felt like reading the epilogue of a great book; she felt hungry for more, but there was no way to satisfy that desire. Starting a new book - or continuing with her other ongoing project, in this case - just wasn't the same.
Drumming her fingers on the desk, she rolled her gaze to look at the model for her next project, leaning up against the wall, taunting her. It was important, of course. Replicating the enchantments on other, smaller objects could be a game-changer. The Ministry of Magic debacle, for one, might have turned out much differently. With one last relaxing sigh, she shook off the melancholy of finishing such a big project and stood. She picked up the object, turning it over in her hands and examining every last detail. She'd need more samples, but her intensely analytical mind was already picking out and internally cataloging details, though many of them would be inconsequential. A barrage of revealing and observational spells used to examine existing wards and enchantments followed, and soon her quill scratched away at fresh parchment, all thoughts of rest and relaxation banished from her mind.
A/N:
I picked Robert Fludd and Roger Bacon almost at random (I only purposefully chose people from England) out of Wikipedia's list of "occultists" and attributed some magic to them. First I wrote Faust-Baconian instead of Fludd-Baconian, but I decided that would have been a bit too much of the Hermione-takes-over-the-world motif (the adjective "Faustian" implies a situation in which a person sells their soul to the devil - metaphorically or literally - for power). Interestingly, Roger Bacon's Wikipedia page has a scan of a page of his study in optics, and there is what sort of looks like an inverted Deathly Hallows symbol on it.
Not as much humor (such as it is) at the end, but gotta set up some semblance of a plot. Ingenuity isn't a story-breaker per se, but Rowling's tendency to simply invent magic as she needs it might as well be.
