October was already flying by more quickly than anyone could have hoped. Most of the staff was already looking forward to break. The students had become jitterier with every Hogsmead weekend that passed and Hermione finally saw how teenagers not bothered by war or despair behaved. She began to notice how odd her life had been thus far, and how clique-y her school years had been. Her mind could barely comprehend the way Slytherins schemed with Gryffindors about the next prank on the caretaker, and the way Ravenclaws willingly helped Hufflepuffs with their homework in exchange for sweets they'd stockpiled in their house dorm.
The annual Halloween celebration was approaching, but there was no talk in the castle about festivities. In fact, Hermione noticed that most of the staff was silent at mealtimes, these days, with the exception of Trewlawny, who saw demons on the horizon. In transfiguration, Bertie Beltrand raised his hand and asked timidly whether there would be a celebration or not.
Minerva paused, put her book down, and took off her glasses. Her face looked so old, Hermione thought, like Dumbledore's had before he died. There was something somber in the way she carried herself now, as if she was waiting to die.
"As your headmistress, I've tried very hard to carry on the traditions Albus Dumbledore began. This will be the first year in a long time without his…over-zealous ideas about parties and balls and….and…" there was an awkward silence during which Hermione blushed a little, and saw several students look away from their headmistress.
"In any case, I believe this year should be a year of observance. The world is still in mourning for Albus Dumbledore and many others who died to save us."
The room only heard the sound of chalk on a board for the next twenty minutes. At the end of class, Minerva simply put her text down and waved them out. Hermione was the last to leave. She wanted to comfort Minerva, but didn't know what to say. In the end, she simply stood there for a moment while McGonagall ignored her and then left quietly.
On Halloween morning, Hermione couldn't find the energy to go to breakfast. She knew that upon arriving she'd start crying at the barrenness of the Great Hall, which should have boasted jack-o-lanterns and charmed bats along with the entertainment of the ghosts reliving their deaths to each house table. She knew that when she entered to find nothing but murmuring and the same old Great Hall as usual memories of the troll in the bathroom and the parties in the common room would come rolling back to shore and she'd not be able to face her fellow Gryffindors crying like a baby. Luna Lovegood and Ginny Weasley were the only two left with whom she felt she could relate. However, they'd acclimated somewhat better to life after Dumbledore than she had.
A sudden rattle startled her from staring into the mirror. The castle, having been restored, rarely moved perceptably anymore, except for the staircases. Another larger rattle followed by a huge bang finally convinced Hermione that she should investigate.
Her feet raced down the stairs from Gryffindor tower as bang after bang sounded, now followed by raucous screams. Her heart pounded and her palm became sweaty around her wand as she envisioned unapprehended Death Eaters murdering children and professors alike. Faster and faster she flew past empty classrooms, following the sound past the library and toward the entrance hall, where the sound seemed to be coming from. Her vision was clear, her resolve hard as a stone.
Eventually she realized someone was running behind her, catching up. She wondered briefly why they hadn't cursed her yet, but when she turned to strike first, the serious and determined face of her potion's master met her sight. She continued running, him beside her now, as they raced forward to save what they could.
At the top of the staircase, Hermione was so stunned she almost fell down the stairs, until Snape grabbed her back, barely having more faculties than she did for a moment. He regained his mind almost instantly, and Hermione sank to the floor, hugging the stone banister to her tightly. Her breath was ragged and terrified, still, as she watched students racing around, screaming with delight at the explosions of color, bats and pumpkins which the teachers were having a hard time wrangling. Ultimately, they gave up as the decorations flew about the castle, most into the Great Hall, where Minerva McGonagall sat defeated, trying not to seem as though she was upset as she poured herself tea.
In a matter of moments, Severus noticed several things. One, that he was still aiming his wand at the celebration. Two, that he and Hermione Granger were being regarded as mad folk by passing students, eager to join in the celebration. Three, that Ginerva Weasley and Luna Lovegood, along with several returning older students were all scattered about the upper floor, ready for a fight. Eventually, they scattered and Snape looked down to find the wild-haired Gryffindor still hugging her stone banister. He left her there, then, against what his compassion was telling him to do. He put his hand on her shoulder momentarilly and then shrank away to have his private breakfast in his own quarters.
Eventually, Hermione Granger came back to herself. The scar that had long since disappeared, the one Dolohov had put on her once smooth skin, tingled with dark magic, fear, or both. Its fizzling pain caused her to stop her slow trudge back to Gryffindor tower to be sick. As she magically vanished the vomit, she caught several disgusted and outraged stares from a group of third years.
Suddenly she was lashing out at them.
"What? Never seen vomit before? I suppose your wonderful lives don't include such oddities! Get to class!"
Several whispers and insults followed her around the corner as she began to cry. She wasn't going to class today. She just wasn't.