Hermione kept her head low, eyes downcast as she walked. The tiles made a loud clicking sound and she silently wished she'd worn quieter shoes. It felt as if every head in the Great Hall was turning to look at her, but she ignored them.
When she'd finally reached her seat, she quickly folded her legs and stared down at her plate, discreetly asking for some scrambled eggs and a few sausages.
When the food blossomed on her plate, it felt as if a large block on her chest had vanished. Her lungs filled with oxygen and she started to eat with a tiny, satisfied smile on her face. It was the first time she hadn't felt like vomiting after tasting the rich food.
She glanced tentatively at the Marauders only to find them staring shamelessly back. She made an expression, the first real grin she had given them, and they returned it tenfold. She sighed in contentment.
Perhaps they weren't Ron and Harry, but it looked as if she had found some friends after all.
"Miss McKinnon?" Hermione called, her hand pointed at the tall blonde near the front of the class. She barely looked up from her clipboard, grasping it in a tightly controlled fist. Her heavily lidded eyes were scanning the student's list, checking and rechecking that all her students were present.
The students were standing in a line, and she, as professor, was half-heartedly shooting colored lights at them. It wasn't until she looked up that she realized that they were Avada Kedavra green. She winced, now understanding the tiny bit of reluctance that had been drifting from several students.
"Professor," Marlene said solemnly, "Why are we wasting our time with this redundant exercise?" Hermione immediately scowled. Despite understanding that it was a valid question, she couldn't help but grimace at her pretentious expression.
"Miss McKinnon," Hermione said, an irritated look marring her normally androgynous features. Her face lost what little trace of humor it contained. "You question my instruction as if I am a student - it isn't wise of you to forget that I am a professor."
Marlene didn't look the least bit abashed and it was only that Hermione had remembered that the McKinnons had been in the Order that she didn't start channeling Severus Snape. She had to remind her several times not to tear her into several pieces and send her, emotionally scarred, to Madam Pomfrey.
"Nonetheless," she continued, bitterness that only her friends would recognize hidden in her voice. "I am not here to coddle my students, nor lie to them. And so I will tell you the truth." Her face was grave, and the other students seemed to recognize that.
Clearly thinking of the progressing war, many of their expressions darkened. Several hands were raised, but quickly lowered themselves as other students glared at them. Several braced themselves, however, even they weren't expecting the sentence was messily strewn from her mouth.
"The thing about defence is that it can so easily be channeled into offence. I am here to help you defend yourselves. I am here to teach you how to fight. And most importantly, I am here to help you learn how to kill." There was a small gasp as most of class blanched. There was a silence that seemed to envelop the room.
"Kill?" Squeaked a Ravenclaw boy directly in her line of sight. She fixed him with a piercing gaze and nodded slowly, watching with muted interest as he paled. His eyes dilated in what was considered by most terror, but Hermione could tell. It was cunning calculation. It seemed that there were more Slytherins in Ravenclaw then there were in the Snake's den itself.
"We are entering a war," she said, the biting edge to her voice disintegrating as it faded into a fierce whisper. "Those who think people like me have stolen magic, and those who accept us muggleborns with open arms."
She held her steely gaze, sweeping around the classroom. "I am here to teach you, Death Eater or not..." she locked eyes with a student, Stephens, that she had known from the future. His eyes hardened as he came to the same conclusion as she.
"To defend yourselves," she sneered with all the anger she could summon. She drew her eyes away from Voldemort's servant. She waved her hands, sending several stunners and shattering a flower vase that stood delicately on her desk.
"I could do that to a Death Eater," she said fiercely. "I could sling him by his entrails and drag him around the Hogwarts halls." There were several horrified expressions exchanged at this statement, but Hermione ignored them.
"But I won't, though Merlin they deserve it," Hermione growled. "They are puppets, little pawns that dance on the filthy, manipulative string that is Voldemort." There was a silence so deep that Hermione could light up fireworks in front of their very eyes and they wouldn't respond.
"Miss Mckinnon," she said, finally addressing the girl she originally ignored.
"I am, what these maniacs call, a mudblood." Hermione saw several fists clench at the word. A small smile tugged at the corner of her mouth at the reaction. "Now explain to me how most people lose a duel - and in some cases, their lives."
Marlene straightened, her voice arrogant with certainty. "They didn't cast Protego fast enough and got hit by a spell."
There was just a split second of silence in which Hermione took to glare scathingly at the class.
"Wrong!" Hermione barked, her hands on her hips. "They lost the duel because they did not move." She had to resist rolling her eyes at the stupidity of the wizarding children. The rest of the class seemed slightly perplexed at this statement, as if unable to comprehend how such a simple thing could save lives.
"They, in all their foolishness, failed to move their bodies like so." She flicked her wrist and sent a bright green light into Marlene's chest.
Hermione smiled wryly, anger pulsing in every vein in her body. "You're dead, Miss McKinnon."
Marlene elicited an outraged gasp, the furious Ravenclaw grabbing her bag and storming out of the classroom. The door shut with a loud snap, the hinges darkening in response to her accidental magic.
"Would anybody else like to leave?" Hermione said calmly. Nobody moved, though some of them shifted slightly closer to the exit, looking at her rather uneasily.
Then, to her immense surprise, the door burst open again. The earsplitting shriek was enough to gather the classes' attention as well as the frenzied pounding that commenced.
"Miss McKinnon," she said, only to trail off as she realized that Marlene hadn't swallowed her pride enough to apologize. Illuminated by the light, dark hair flew wildly around her face as the student stormed into the classroom.
"Miss Black," Hermione corrected, looking steadily at Bellatrix. "I have had two interruptions already in my class." She met her vivid violet eyes with certainty, stilling her trembling fists. "This had better be quick."
"Pro - professor!" The witch babbled, almost inconsolable as tears streamed down her face. Hermione didn't move from her spot, staring coldly at the murderer that had taken half of her family.
"Yes, Miss Black?" She asked icily. Bellatrix approached her, sobbing, and Hermione couldn't help but allow a sliver of pity to emerge through her mask. She gently lead Bellatrix to a chair and sat her down, not needing to remind herself that this was not a killer - not yet.
"My - my Cissy," she managed, shaking, her ivory face made pallid with terror. Hermione gathered her into her arms, something her mother used to do with her.
"Your sister," Hermione garnered, mistaking her words slightly. Bellatrix started sobbing again, burying her face into her arms.
"No!" Bellatrix stuttered, looking as if she would pass out. "The Dark Lord! He took - he took Cissy!" Hermione had finally managed to garner something from her mad scrambling.
"Cissy? Narcissa Black, the first year?" If Bellatrix's erratic nodding was any indication, she had been correct. Hermione steadied her hands and shook her, finally coming to a stop as her head spun.
"Bellatrix," she said sternly. "Why did you come to me? Dark Lord or not, Dumbledore would help you get your sister back." Her purple eyes looked terrified, but she seemed steel herself.
"I..." Bellatrix looked so ashamed of herself that she brought her voice to a whisper. "The Dark Lord ordered me to kill you." Tears started to form in her eyes yet again and Hermione stopped herself from wringing her neck.
"I'm not a murderer," Bellatrix said, surprisingly convincingly. "I didn't know, didn't think that they would take it out on Cissy. I didn't know!" Her last word was a disheveled scream, causing what remained of the class not cover their ears.
"He - he told me to get you. He has Cissy," she gave another sob. "He has Cissy in Hogsmeade. He says that you must resign and face him or..." She couldn't continue.
"I know it's a trap," she continued, pleading with Hermione, "But it's your job to protect your students and if you don't then there's not a force on earth that would prevent me from fighting him myself." Shudders wracked her body and Hermione pulled her to her feet.
"I need a wand," Hermione said darkly. Though she was proficient with wandless magic, she couldn't face the dark lord with that as her only defence.
"Here," Alice Prewett said, tossing Hermione her own. She smiled gently at Neville's mother, patting her on the cheek.
"You have my word it will be returned, Miss Prewett." The girl nodded gravely, her hazel eyes glinting with the beginnings of rage.
"Go tell Dumbledore where I are," Hermione bellowed. "Class dismissed!" However, Alice still didn't move, staring directly into Hermione's eyes. Green met brown and a quiet grief overwhelmed her.
"He killed my grandpa," she whimpered, arms clenched. "Please - give him hell, Professor." There wasn't a second that went by and an unspoken understanding passed between them.
Then Hermione nodded curtly and Alice fled, undoubtedly to tell the Headmaster. Hermione closed her eyes, praying that it would work.
"Fawkes!" She begged, "A student needs your help." There was a pause and she thought that the bird hadn't answered. Then there was a small ember of flame that started to glow, expanding in all directions until the phoenix reared it's head and soared out of the classroom's fireplace.
"Thank you Fawkes," she said, relieved beyond belief. "Bellatrix, stay here until I bring her back." But the slender witch struggled to her feet and stood, if albeit shakily.
"No," she snarled. "I'm coming. When I said I'd fight him, I fucking meant it Professor." Hermione bit her lip, before finally offering her arm.
Fawkes shot her a dubious look, but Hermione rolled her eyes. "She isn't evil, Fawkes." Yet. Hermione turned to her right as they were flamed away.
"Pretend I fell for your trap," her voice was an echo as they disintegrated into space, and she could only pray that Bellatrix had heard her. "Then take your sister and disapparate to Sirius's…" Hermione got the impression she wouldn't like that. "Regulus's house."
The tightening of Bellatrix's arm signaled that she had heard her, and Hermione smiled, feeling the powerful magic that surged through her veins. Though the wand wasn't a perfect fit, it was extremely close, and she enjoyed the small euphoria that only lasted for a second.
The landscape swirled: colorful ink in water, and she could see nothing but fire. Then a picture started to form thought the flames. She saw the snow tipped houses of Hogsmeade, the flowerpots that lined Ms. Puddifoot's, and the small trinkets that were placed outside of Zonkos. And then she noticed how the pebbles were slick with blood and dark figures gathered around a single shadow.
She already had her wand in hand when she landed.
"Miss Black, where are we?" Hermione lied, injecting a note of panic into her voice. Hermione whipped her wand around in unprepared acting.
There was a sudden silence as the occupants of Hogsmeade seemed to realize that there was a new player in the game. Bellatrix unsteadily started to walk forward, her shoes the only thing that penetrated the deafening quiet. She forced her spine to bend and finally bowed at the terrible monster's toes.
"My Lord," she said as certainly as she could. "I have brought you the mudblood. Please..." her voice cracked slightly, "May I have my sister back as a reward for my obedience?" There was another silence and Voldemort finally reached behind him, into the circle and threw a little girl on the ground.
She was splayed on all fours, a few joints looking as if they were broken. Her blonde hair was stained with red and her exhausted eyes were bloodshot from crying. Bellatrix staggered to her knees and rushed to her unconscious sister.
"It was a shame pure blood had to be spilt," Voldemort said in a cold, high pitched voice. Before Bellatrix could retort, her eyes burning with undiluted rage, Hermione sent her an angry gust of Legilimency into her mindscape with four simple words.
Think of your sister.
Bellatrix seemed to swallow her disgust and slowly dropped her head to kiss his robes. "Thank you," she choked out, "My Lord." His ruby eyes glinted with terrible amusement and he kicked her face away, leaving indents and scratches.
Bellatrix flinched away, gathering her sister in her arms as she prepared to disapparate. However, Hermione had already sensed the wards and knew she would not succeed. She had to distract him, before he realized her true intentions.
"Bellatrix," she called, drawing the Dark Lord's attention to her. "It is no use. He set up the wards." Voldemort's eyes narrowed, but Hermione called Fawkes to her and he appeared on her shoulder immediately.
"Dumbledore's pheonix?" He asked, looking slightly surprised for the first time. "A mudblood can call Dumbledore's phoenix?" Voldemort seemed impassive at her lack of reaction to the word. He leveled his wand at her and Hermione rolled lightly as the jet of emerald imbedded itself in the wall behind her.
"Take the sisters Black to Dumbledore's office," she whispered to Fawkes, looking over at Bellatrix, who was trying to shield herself from the rubble. Against Hermione's orders she started to fight, sending killing curses over her sister's body as she tried to protect her.
However, Voldemort still was as clever in this world as he was in the last one. He followed Hermione's gaze to the middle Black sister, who had already killed several of his followers. He seemed to honestly be aghast, as if he expected her to stand by as her sister was terrorized.
There was a terrible silence as they glared at one another, Bellatrix's eyes smoldering with an unspeakable rage. She raised her wand, but though she was a talented dueller she was no match for Voldemort.
"Avada Kedavra!" He snarled.
"Bombarda Maxima!" Hermione hissed in unison, the spell's explosion yanking them back just in time. She, for the most part, was satisfied that no other Blacks were dressed in Death Eater regalia, ready to watch as their family was killed.
"Fawkes," she growled, "now!" He bowed his regal head, but they were too far away for her to join them. Bellatrix's look of horror was all the motivation she needed as she faced Voldemort. At least she knew that she had protected her students.
The Dark Lord roared in fury, his cloak billowing in rage. He fixed his blood red eyes on her, the killing curse barely leaving his lips. Hermione ducked, knowing that she had to keep his attention on her or risk harming the civilians that lived in Hogsmeade.
The screams of the innocents were the only thing that kept her from walking away from the fight then and there. She knew that she could break the anti- apparition ward, but it would take most of her energy and she wouldn't be able to protect them. And then… it would just be a massacre.
She fired her own Avada, smiling as it brushed straight past his face. He seemed to grow more enraged, ordering his followers to launch their own spells at him. Hermione swept under a crucio and dodged a vibrant purple spell that was no doubt deadly, firing off her own curses and killing several masked men.
"Secsumptra," she growled quietly, if only to prevent Snape's involvement. The spell diced a man, spearing his body in nausea inducing methods. Hermione didn't feel the slightest bit of disgust, even while Voldemort looked more and more intrigued.
"Na…" the Dark Lord hissed, and Hermione immediately recognized it as Parseltongue. "Go kill… find… Professor." What absolutely mystified her was that she could understand short verses of it, the language sounding more and more beautiful as it progressed.
She was snapped out of her hypnosis when she was forced to dance, throwing her head back to avoid a slicing curse aimed at her face. Not very original, she mused to herself, as she beheaded the Death Eater with his own curse.
It was several minutes before Hermione finally noticed the snake. It reared, preparing to bite her. Hermione spun around, recognizing the snake as it sank its venomous fangs into her ankle. Several Hogsmeade occupants screamed, and the Death Eaters were quick to target them.
"Protogo Maximus!" Hermione roared, the impenetrable shield appearing right as the glass windows shattered.
She took a deep inhale, calming herself.
Without further ado, she cast the fiendfyre curse, hastily disintegrating Nagini and then forcing it to bend to her will. In a second, there was a large inferno of flame that ended the lives of many of the Death Eaters. She carefully carved the fire so that it strayed from the buildings, forcing it into the terrified gazes of the servants.
Not feeling a shard of pity, she watched the Voldemort's minions fall into the ruby flames. Though she knew that she had just committed a heinous act, she had saved thousands of innocent lives.
"That's enough!" Voldemort finally bellowed, his face hollow with rage. His eyes glowed, the personification of death and famine.
He studied her, wand raised and robes billowing, and then snarled, "You are not a mudblood." However, his expression was shadowed with doubt and his posture was too frigid to be natural.
"Yes, Tom, I am," she responded smiling, even as blood dripped out of her mouth. "But what are you?" His face contorted at his name, and he proceeded to cast the cruciatus at her over and over. She dodged every time, leaping over several as she advanced on him.
"Life is a beautiful thing, Tom," she said fiercely. "Each and every life should be treasured. Those undeserving should not have the permission to take the lives of others." She was almost ten feet away now, Voldemort casting the killing curse repeatedly. She seemed to vanish every time he hit her, the green light shimmering and disappearing.
"Life is an enigma, Tom," she said again, her eyes black with disappointment. "Or should I say Riddle?" Her expression faded into a dark mischievous smile as Hermione disappeared, her appearance melting into the mist.
There was a deadly silence as everyone spun around, trying to find her. Then one of the Death Eaters behind Voldemort shifted, withdrawing their mask. Rosalie Lovett smiled, the silver crumbling in her hand.
"How?" Voldemort spat, looking slightly unnerved.
"Oh Tom," she said in mock disappointment, even while bleeding from several cuts on her face and a missing piece of her ear. "That was an apparition spell. A second year charm. Did poor Marvolo never learn to duplicate his body?"
Then she lunged, thrusting long, thin, dagger through his ribs. "I hope it hurts," she snarled, pushing him away as he gaped.
"Morsmordre," he managed, the words morphing into Parsel half-way through. With one last furious look at Hermione, he vanished, as did all of the surviving Death Eaters, the deceased corpses littering the ground.
Hermione felt dizzy and the world finally spun, the adrenaline eventually leaving her. She didn't know what the hell she'd been thinking – she knew that she was powerful but she never expected to be able to take on Voldemort. She couldn't even battle Bellatrix! Something about coming here must have enhanced her magic, perhaps doubling or even tripling it.
And then there was the flaw; that she had understood Voldemort's Parseltongue.
She didn't quite understand, she had seen many of Professor Sprout's pets and they had never spoken to her. She hadn't even considered the outlandish idea until she had seen Voldemort. Then the voices of the witches and wizards in Hogsmeade were upon her, rushing to get a better glance of the girl that had fought the Dark Lord.
She started to wave them away, insist that she was quite alright and would like to get to Hogwarts, when a wave of nausea hit.
A pain slowly started to build, starting at her the roots of her hair and increasing, until all the agony was concentrated into a single spot on her forehead.
It only took a minute for Hermione to start screaming, the pain far more intense than the cruciatus. She flailed in excruciation, writhing in absolute agony as she sobbed. Her head was on fire, burning a slate into her skull while she cried. She felt as if she would rather be electrocuted then take another second of the pain.
She felt warm arms envelop her, usher the crowd away and start to carry her into the pub. It wasn't until she recognized the warm brown eyes of a youthful Rosmerta that she stopped fighting. A wave of exhaustion effulged her and she had no choice but to close her eyes and succumb to the darkness.
"Dumbledore! Professor Dumbledore!" Albus was rather startled by the presence of what appeared to be an entire seventh year class frantically pounding on his door. He was pleased to see a Hufflepuff prefect among them, and asked the Griffin to kindly let Alice Prewett up.
"Professor!" She panted, looking as if she had run up to his office instead of waiting for the stairs to automatically levitate her. Minerva looked rather unimpressed that she had interrupted a house meeting as did Slughorn. However, Pomona looked at her distraught Hufflepuff with the unwavering loyalty that her house prided.
"Bellatrix's sister," she panted before anyone could speak. "Narcissa Black! She was captured by You-Know-Who!" Dumbledore shot to his feet, surprisingly lithe for an ancient wizard.
"The first year Slytherin?" Slughorn demanded, absolutely aghast. "The youngest daughter of Cygnus?" He looked as if he might pass out in horror.
Alice managed a mute nod, still gasping for breath. She may have been adorable, dreadfully reminiscent of Neville, but she was no athlete.
"Do you know where, Miss Prewett?" Dumbledore's voice was alight with power, and the four others in the room seemed immensely worried about the young first year. Slughorn, for once in his life, looked extremely grave.
"Yes, Sir," she said breathlessly. "She said it was Hogsmeade. Professor Rosett has already gone to help. She left almost twenty minutes ago! We couldn't get into the office and the gargoyle wouldn't let us in. I think she took Bellatrix with her, but I'm not sure." Alice took a deep breath and smoothed her rumpled uniform.
"That's all I know, sir," she said earnestly. Dumbledore nodded, patting her shoulder slightly even as he paced. His beard trailed all the way to his waist and was swinging as he wrung his hands distractedly.
"Thank you for your time, Miss Prewett," he said eventually, drawing the elder wand and striding to the front of his office. He quickly touched the doorknob and was assaulted by many other voices, all whom appeared to have been from Professor Lovett's class.
"Fawkes," he called, waiting a few seconds. The occupants of the office all expected the fiery bird to appear instantly and when it did not, Dumbledore deducted that he must be helping the Rosalie.
"Fawkes is with Professor Lovett," he said briskly. "Even I cannot apparate out of Hogwarts without damaging a section of the wards." He looked at them gravely. "With the war beginning that is simply not an option; I will not have more students in danger. We can go on foot - as soon as we step outside of the wards we apparate."
He received three nods. "Minerva?"
"Of course Albus," She replied, the scottish woman fiercely replied, "You won't face Voldemort alone." She swept her long black cloak and started running, not bothering to wait for him. She knew, despite his age, that he would catch up.
"Horace, Pomona," he said gently, "I won't force you to go. I want you to secure the castle, check and recheck the wards and prepare for injured Hogsmeade occupants in the Hospital Wing." There were two firm nods.
"Filius," Albus said finally, turning to the half-goblin, "I don't just want you to check the wards, you need to strengthen them. Try to detect which students have taken the dark mark. I believe they can be saved, but it's a matter of how much they knew about this attack on Miss Black."
"Yes Albus," Professor Flitwick said, nodding slightly. "Remember to be careful."
He nodded once, before setting off at a swift pace through the castle. The tiles blurred and shifted, he took several passages that few knew about, appearing in front of a gargoyle in the Great Hall.
Minerva had a sheen of sweat on her face, small bits of perspiration in her hair.
"Albus!" she gasped as he appeared in front of her. "We have to hurry! And how the bloody hell did you - never mind!" She huffed in annoyance, throwing her shoes to the floor to help her run faster.
Finally, they reached the edge of the wards. Albus apperated first, expecting to find civilians cowering as Voldemort picked them off one by one. Instead, he found corpses on the ground. However, the thing that truly astounded him was that they appeared to be the bodies of Death Eaters rather than the Dark Lord's playthings.
He winced, staring at the bloody remnants of several of the masked men. He really needed to have a talk with Rosalie, or rather, Hermione, on how to handle opponents. He saw several parents still shielding their children's faces as they eyed the wreckage in terror.
Minerva appeared behind him, wand at the ready. When she saw the scene, she almost dropped her hand in amazement. Her pupils dilated in horror as she finally studied the wreckage. Minerva heaved, retching as she vomited.
There was a second of horrible quiet.
"What happened?" she murmured horsely.
Hermione groaned, her head throbbing furiously as she hacked.
"Here, doll," Rosmerta said gently, handing her a glass of water. With slight hesitation, Hermione brought the cup to her lips and drank, savoring the feel of the liquid rushing down her parched throat.
She leaned back into her pillow, sighing.
"Thank you, Rosmerta," Hermione said, not noticing her start in surprise. She shifted uneasily but didn't say a word, just nodding softly.
"Would you like another?" Hermione shook her head, murmuring 'thank you' over and over. She ran her fingers through her hair, onto her face, the small cuts on her cheeks, and the little square that had been taken out of her earlobe.
She shook her head softly, ignoring how the pounding on her brain increased tenfold. Finally, she covered her eyes with her fingertips, tracing them upward until she reached her forehead.
There she stopped.
An unfamiliar patch of skin was there, red and irritated. When she touched it, she almost arched her back in agony as the familiar excruciation overtook her.
"Agh!" She gasped; tracing it over and over though pain stabbed her every time. Because she had studied the scar before, she had run her knowing fingers over it, time and time again. She'd felt the scar a thousand times, absentminded, never realizing the burden that came with it.
She stood, her head spinning and tried to run.
"Lass!" Rosmerta snapped, blocking her exit. "Please lass, calm down! You're going to give yourself a seizure!" However, Hermione kept struggling against her firm arms, tears streaming out of her deadened eyes.
"Bathroom," she begged, her voice a mere croak. "I need the mirror. Please." It was a painful five seconds, but then Rosmerta reluctantly moved aside.
"Third door on your left," she murmured, lightly guiding Hermione in the right direction. Hermione barreled past her, straight into the room and wiped away the tears so that she could see it for herself.
Her hand slowly came to her mouth, shaking erratically as she finally sobbed. She resisted the urge to throw up, pursing her lips together as tightly as they could go. Instead, she shoved her fist inside her mouth and just screamed.
She screamed and screamed and screamed, uncaring of who heard her, uncaring of the consequences, uncaring of anything but the marring feature on her forehead.
Because the lightning bolt scar wasn't meant to be hers. And yet, there it rested.
"Oh Harry," she whispered, her robes soaked with tears. "What did you do to me?"
- Linebreak -
Hey guys! It's Kathie!
I've been quite busy; there've been a few birthdays going on and horrible doctor's appointments. But, good news if you like this story – I'm going on a 7-hour road trip tomorrow. Needless to say you should expect a chapter pretty soon (;
(Sorry that this one was a little late!)
Thank you Loves,
- Kathie