This one kind of ran away from me once I really started working on it. I hope you like it as much as I do!
As before, I own none of the characters of the Potterverse. Read, Review, and Enjoy!
Hermione's favorite way to wake up when she was a child was slowly and unrushed. Those weekend days before school when she could wake up an hour later than usual to the gentle sounds of birdsong and the tantalizing smells of her mother creating a breakfast far too big for their small family. The whole leisurely feeling of the event was what made it special. She decided when and how she woke up, and perhaps most importantly how long it took her. Whether she lay in bed for an hour after waking or sprang forth the second her eyes opened was entirely her decision, which Hermione absolutely loved. Of course, those days were long behind her. She was survivor of the war and her family was in Australia, somewhere, entirely unaware of her existence.
Her first day back at Hogwarts after the battle, Hermione was awoken by Ron and Harry bursting through the door to her dorm and crying loudly, "Hermione!" They stomped around and made such a ruckus that she woke up immediately and was, because of that, incredibly grouchy.
"I thought boys couldn't come up the girls' staircase," she said, sighing and extracting herself from her covers a bit to sit up, crossing her legs.
"Ginny showed me how to disable it," Harry said casually. Hermione's interest was peaked, but Harry waved her off before she could even open her mouth. He pulled a pair of brooms from behind the doorway and chuckled, saying, "It's not so much outsmarting the magic, but more like avoiding the problem. Though, it is a little tricky flying up the staircase."
She couldn't suppress a small laugh of surprise, "That's clever, Harry."
He shrugged, "Ginny thought of it, not me."
Hermione nodded. It did sound something more like what Ginny would think of, Hermione often wondered whether Ginny should have been put into Ravenclaw or even Slytherin for her clever, cunning nature.
"What? You don't think Harry or I could have thought it up ourselves?" Ron said, obviously still heated from yesterday.
Hermione was bored of fighting with him and instead ignored him all together, "What are you two doing here so early? I figured it would be a week or more until you got here."
"We wrote Kingsley," explained Harry. "He set up a meeting which we went to last night and we talked about a rebuliding effort with this guy who graduated with Tonks, I think. He's the one who made those incredible spire things as tribute. I forget his name..."
"Ian Sullivan," filled in Hermione, looking disgusted.
"That's it! How is it you know everything?" asked Ron, suddenly curious.
"I spoke to him yesterday, when I arrived," she replied. "I'm quite good at remembering names, Ronald."
He wrinkled his nose up, but said nothing else to her, leaning against the closest bed frame to pretend he wasn't bothered.
"What'd he talk to you about?" asked Harry.
"How we'd been figureheads of the war last year, 'signs of hope' and silly things like that. And his awful sculptures," said Hermione, setting her chin into her palm.
"You don't like the spires?" asked Harry, glancing out the window where several were visible. Their presence had kept Hermione awake most of the night. "I think they're kind of nice. Comforting. A reminder that even though what happened was terrible and brutal, that what we did was right and that we won. Huh," he said thinking, then shook his head. "Well, he talked to us about the same things, really. How we would be most useful repairing the school early so that people could keep looking up to us. He spoke of adding you to the mix, but then said it was probably better for the pair of us to fix things and for you to do work elsewhere."
"Probably because he doesn't much like me now," said Hermione, resting her chin in her palm.
"Did you insult the spires to his face?" asked Harry, amusement creeping onto his face.
Hermione considered then said, "Well, not on purpose. But yes, yes I did."
Harry shook his head and chuckled before asking, "Would you want to continue to be a figurehead with us?"
"Not in the slightest," said Hermione. "I find it strange."
"That's kinda what I figured," laughed Harry, leaning to kiss her forehead. She smiled at him wanly. "I'll let you go back to sleep then," he said.
Hermione nodded and as they walked out the door, she called, "It's good seeing you, Harry."
He smiled and nodded and the boys left. Hermione smiled back and thought that it might not be such a horrible day after all. Her optimism was quickly wiped from her mind as she heard Ron mumble, "Good, now I won't have to deal with her nonsense."
Frowning and now fully awake, Hermione stomped out of bed and pulled a sweater over her head, crossing to glance out the window. Curiously, she saw Draco Malfoy standing among the spires, staring at them as if entranced. He glanced up, having seen a movement from the castle and upon seeing Hermione, nodded ever so slightly before looking back at whatever had his attention. She crinkled up her nose but couldn't help being curious about the nod.
She continued getting ready and then walked into the Gryffindor common room as she pulled her hair into a practical pony tail. It was completely empty. She walked about the room, remembering times that she'd spent curled up with a book in front of the fire or chatting with Ginny by the window or laughing with Ron and Harry. She paused before the fire and prodded it with her wand before sinking down into her favorite chair before the fire now roaring to life.
Hermione hadn't been sitting down for five minutes before she heard feet upon the boys' staircase and saw Neville step from it.
"Hi, Hermione!" he called as he spotted her. His hair was untidy and his face creased with pillow marks, but Hermione thought he seemed to have grown into the attributes that had made him so awkward looking in previous years such as his too big ears and feet. As she had, perhaps, she thought, thinking of her teeth.
"Good morning, Neville," she called back as he approached.
He looked around the room a bit as he sat down in the chair next to her. "Are there no other Gryffindors back yet?" he asked.
"Ron and Harry are about somewhere, being figureheads of the revolution still. You'd think it would get a bit old by now," she said, trying to keep her voice from betraying how annoyed she was.
"You mentioned something about that last night, right? That sculpture guy, Sullivan. Something about 'The face that brought hope' and all of that, right?" Neville asked and waited for Hermione to nod before continuing, "Absolute idiocy. I'll feed him to a Devil's snare if you'd like."
Hermione shook her head, but smiled. Then remembered, "Is there somewhere we're to be?" she asked Neville. "I would have asked McGonagall but she touched on a sensitive subject and well, I just had to get out of there."
Neville glanced at his watch, "Oh, yeah, actually, we're supposed to meet her in her office in about twenty minutes. We should probably get going."
Hermione had been in the Headmistress's office a handful of times throughout the years and was positive that it would not take more than ten minutes to get there. However, she had forgotten the demolished state of the castle. Having found more than one intended staircase missing pieces large enough to hold a Hippogryph, Neville and Hermione had had to circumnavigate several floors below what they had intended. Thirty minutes after the portrait of the Pink Lady fell closed behind them, Hermione and Neville stumbled upon the door they had set out for.
Before them was the gargoyle that Hermione had associated with Dumbledore for what seemed like her entire life. She took a deep breath before realizing that she didn't know the password.
"Do you know the password, Neville?" asked Hermione, turning towards him.
He nodded and touched first the right eye and then the nose of the gargoyle. It swung forth to reveal a staircase that was slowly rotating upwards. Neville smiled at Hermione's confused expression and said simply, "McGonagall's not as fond of sweets as Dumbledore was."
They were carried to the top and Hermione's hand rapped upon the door which opened expectantly the moment it was touched.
"You're late," called Professor McGonagall as they entered the spacious room. It looked very different than Hermione remembered it from when Dumbledore was Headmaster. He had always had strange, spindly tables weighed down with curious contraptions. The only thing that seemed the same was the plethora of books lining the walls, the sorting hat sitting on a high shelf, and the armchairs which dotted the room.
"We didn't expect the amount of damage still within the castle," replied Hermione, embarrassed. She sank into the armchair closest to her.
"Oh, that's quite alright," said the Headmistress. "You're actually the first two to arrive."
"There are more of us?" asked Neville. "But there wasn't anyone else in Gryffindor tower?"
"Surely you don't think Gryffindors were going to be the only ones to come back, Mister Longbottom," said Professor McGonagall. "Afterall, I am not just head of your house any longer."
As she finished speaking, a trio of Ravenclaws wandered through the door to her office, followed by the Gryffindor Patil sister (the other being part of the Ravenclaws). They exchanged pleasantries with Professor McGonagall and expressed embarrassment at their lateness. Before they had finished speaking, a pair of Hufflepuffs entered the office, flustered and panting, trailed by the ever-composed Draco Malfoy.
"What's he doing here?" hissed Terry Boot, glaring at Draco Malfoy. The blonde seemed to take no notice and merely smirked at Hermione who looked away to suppress a smile.
"Now that we're all here," said Professor McGonagall, quieting the now crowded room with her voice. She stood on a small platform in the center of the room and towered over the students, though all of them were of age. "I would like to thank the nine of you for participating in the extended learning program we've offered this year which caters to those students whose final year of schooling was so disrupted by the war and the terror that enveloped both the magical and muggle worlds last year. This is a very special program which has never been offered before and will hopefully need never be offered again. You nine students will have the opportunity to come and go as you please practically everywhere on the school and grounds, with very few exceptions or more likely, warnings, and very minimal criteria.
"The criteria are simple. To maintain your participation in this program you will have to complete at least eighteen inches of scroll and submit it to me weekly on something you have learned or experienced in the program. The library and most every other part of the castle are yours to do what you wish with, even those usually reserved for staff and Prefects. You are encouraged to sit in on classes, but are required to state a reason other than boredom or curiosity. I would like to mention that there are not many classes under OWL level in which you could sit where you would have much reason other than a future in teaching. In addition to this, we require that you complete ten hours of reconstruction weekly. It is up to you if you would like to complete one or two hours a day or pile it all into a day, however, the spells are quite intensive and I would advise against spending more than five hours at a time immersed in that work.
"The exceptions are more for safety than anything. I would like to advise the lot of you against entering the Forbidden Forest unless accompanied by Hagrid. Unlike previous years, however, you are not expressedly forbidden from visiting and there will be no punishment if you are found to have visited there if you have academic reason or proof. If you are without proof or reason, you will be given additional hours of reconstruction work. A more strict ban is on entering faculty's offices without their expressed permission, which will demote you back to the level of students.
"The last thing I need to mention is that you will no longer be staying in your respective houses as there is not room for extra students," continued Professor McGonagall as a round of protest rose from the students. "You will be staying in a wing of a dozen rooms off the edge of the library which includes a bedroom for each of you, a pair of bathrooms, and a common room area."
"I have to stay in a room next to him?" asked Susan Bones, glancing apprehensively at Malfoy who now looked at the ground.
"Yes," stated McGonagall soundly. "Perhaps you'll all learn a bit of tolerance."