Hermione Granger and the Amulet of Yendor

Chapter Four - Arrivals

An honor is not diminished for being shared.
	-- Lois McMaster Bujold, "Shards of Honor", 1986

"So," Ron murmered to Hermione quietly, "who do you think we'll have for our Dark Arts teacher this year?" They weren't paying much attention to the Sorting that was currently underway.

"I'm not sure," Hermione murmered back. "There's not enough of a pattern yet to tell if they'll be a Death Eater or a friend of Harry's parents. It depends on how we categorize Kwikspell."

Ron rolled his eyes, "Do you have to approach everything as if it were an exam question?"

Hermione didn't answer. She was too busy looking at the person who had seated herself at the head table. The new arrival was certain to be the Dark Arts teacher, she thought, as she was the only unknown at the table. She didn't look much like a Hogwarts Professor, however.

The new Professor was about Hermione's height, midway between five and six feet tall. Her athletic build would have been hidden by robes, had she been wearing them, but the outfit she wore hid very little. Hermione would have thought it was a purely Muggle outfit, since it was cut like a simple tee-shirt and jeans, but there was a snow-tiger on the front of the shirt that paced restively, occasionally walking around to the back of the shirt. A purple leather duster jacket and matching boots completed her ensemble.

Her hair was a chestnut-brown, pulled back into a ponytail behind her, aside from a few random wisps stuck out from her bangs and curved around to the bottom of her face. Hermione saw the glint of silver around her neck, but couldn't make out any details.

Hermione wasn't alone in staring at the new arrival. Many of the students were wondering about her, too. Even if it weren't for the reputation Hogwarts professors were gaining for the instability of its Dark Arts Professors, someone like her would gather stares from just about anyone.

The Sorting Hat sang its piece, and then it was time to welcome the new students. The Sorting seemed fairly even, but Gryffindor got a few less than anyone else, which surprised Hermione. She didn't know if it was easier to consider yourself brave during peacetime, or if she was overthinking things. There was no guarantee the houses would have even numbers of students, after all.

Hermione noticed Professor Ding was back from last year, although she was standing along the side of the room, rather than being seated at the head table. She was standing next to Fleur Delaceour, and both of them were glaring at the new Dark Arts Professor as if she were their worst enemy. Hermione filed that away as something to ask about later -- she assumed Ding was on the side of right, which might mean the new Professor was not.

The Sorting done, Professor Dumbledore walked slowly up to the podium. He looked out at his students, and Hermione saw him lock eyes with Harry for a moment, before sweeping his gaze back across the rest of the students. "I am sure we are all eager to begin eating, but before we do so, I have a few announcements."

"First, the Forest outside the castle is known as the Forbidden Forest. Students are expressly forbidden from being inside the Forest without Hogwarts Faculty accompanying them. The Forest is home to a number of unfriendly creatures, not all of whom may be beaten with a piece of wood and good intentions."

"Second, Mister Filch has expanded his list of forbidden items to an all-time high. As nearly two-thirds of the list is composed of new products from Weasley Wizard Wheezes, I would strongly suggest familiarizing yourself with their catalog, so you may understand what sorts of items are forbidden. If you do not have a catalog, I have an extra in my office." Dumbledore's eyes twinkled, and Hermione guessed he had the catalog for more than determining which items were forbidden.

"Third, I would like to announce that we have made several classrooms and corridors off-limits, due to ongoing renovations of the Castle. These locations have been marked with a line of magical force, like so." He waved his hand, and a line of green dust appeared in the air. "Students are requested to please avoid these areas for their own safety, as powerful magics may be unleashed in these areas."

"Fourth, allow me to present our newest faculty member. Professor Kirin Valek, our Professor for Defense against the Dark Arts. I believe it is noteworthy that Professor Valek is Hogwarts five-hundredth faculty member in this subject." At Dumbledore's introduction, the woman smiled at everyone, and lifted her hand, inadvertently knocking over her water goblet directly into Snape's lap. As he jumped, the goblet hit the ground, shattering. Dumbledore didn't seem to notice, though, pausing only long enough to allow the muted applause to settle down. Hermione thought this new Professor was probably the only Dark Arts teacher to get a standing ovation from Professor Snape.

"Finally, before we eat, I would like to say two words. Tuck In." The Headmaster proceded, and the students all followed suit except for Ron. He was fingering his Head Boy badge, and staring at Dumbledore, who seemed completely oblivious. Hermione looked over at the Slytherin table, and saw Malfoy was acting normal, apparently unbothered by the question of who the new Head Boy really was. Hermione looked around the room. She wondered if anyone else had received unexpected badges. She realized that not only had Snape not identified the Head Boy by name, but he hadn't said who the new Head Girl was, either. Now she didn't feel like eating, either.

As her gaze travelled around the room, it finally hit Hermione that this was really their last year here. She had met almost everyone in the room, although she didn't really know many of them as friends, and soon she would end up leaving almost all of them behind. She hoped it wouldn't be everyone, though. She thought there were at least a few people who would still write to her after she left, and hopefully they would visit as well. She felt guilty; she still hadn't talked about her post-Hogwarts plans with Ron and Harry.

She saw some of the others in her year also seemed more somber than usual. Dean Thomas was staring at his hands, ignoring Seamus' attempts to enjoin him in conversation. One of the seventh year Hufflepuffs, a boy she hadn't talked to before, had buried his head in his hands. One of the Hufflepuffs next to him had his arm over his shoulders, comforting him. She wondered if any of the others were also struck by their impending graduation, or if they had more serious problems on their mind.

She noticed something else in looking around the room. Someone was missing, but Hermione didn't know her name. The Slytherin girl from the train, who probably still smelled of marmalade, wasn't at the Slytherin table. Hermione couldn't imagine that she hadn't been cleaned up on the train, but there weren't too many other good reasons to miss the Sorting and Arrival Feast. Even Ron and Harry hadn't managed to miss it every year, although it seemed like they had been trying.

Ginny leaned over and whispered to Hermione, "Look at the Hufflepuff table, near the end." She jerked her head in that direction.

Hermione followed Ginny's direction, but didn't see anything too noteworthy. "What am I looking for?"

"Jalaja. The one we were talking about on the train. She's the one looking at the Ravenclaw table with the forlorn eyes."

Hermione looked over. Jalaja seemed to be a fairly ordinary student. Her hair was beautiful, black, and straight, which Hermione thought grossly unfair. Her eyes, though, were puffy, and she was indeed staring at one of the Ravenclaws, who seemed to be ignoring her.

Hermione looked at the object of Jalaja's stare, and wasn't too impressed with him, either. She couldn't see many details of the boy, who was presumably Hunter, but he seemed to be almost as short as Harry, with sandy hair and a ruddy complexion. She recognized him as someone she had seen around school, but not as anyone she had ever talked with.

"I do hate to interrupt," a pinched voice came from over her shoulder, "but I need to speak with you." Hermione turned, finding Professor McGonagall standing there looking cross. "I believe there has been some mistake with regards to the badges."

"I knew it!" Hermione said. "See, Ron, there was nothing to worry about."

Ron put his fork down. She noticed it still had his first bite of food on it. The mess really had disturbed him.

"Yes, Miss Granger, you are indeed Head Girl. We heard from Mister Parkinson when his daughter received the badge erroneously, and we were quick to let him know the truth. I'm sure you and your friends will all be glad to know you are, indeed, Hogwarts Head Girl." Professor McGonagall turned to leave, but Ron stopped her.

"Professor? You mentioned Hermione, but what about me?"

Professor McGonagall turned back and echoed, "What about you?"

"Yes, Professor. I have to know, is Malfoy really Head Boy?"

Professor McGonagall looked stricken, "Malfoy? Head Boy? That couldn't be, could it?"

Hermione was astounded to hear her say something quite so impolitic about a Hogwarts student, even one from another house. Ron caught something else in her tone, though. "You mean, you don't know?"

"No, I don't," McGonagall confirmed, "Headmaster Dumbledore insisted on sending out the letters to the Head Boy himself. He wouldn't tell me why, but he said it was something he couldn't ask anyone else to do." She shook her head. "That could be why. Malfoy?" McGonagall shook her head again, and walked away.

"So, he really is Head Boy," Ron said. His face was ashen. "I suppose I should apologize."

"Apologize? To Malfoy?" Harry seemed dumbstruck. "Ron, there's no way you're going to apologize to the Bouncing Ferret."

"If Dumbledore says he's Head Boy, then it must be so," Ron said, his voice full of fatalism. "There's no point in prolonging this."

"You've got to fight it, Ron," Harry replied. "Dumbledore can't have wanted to make Malfoy Head Boy."

"McGonagall didn't say he had," Hermione pointed out, "just that Dumbledore didn't involve her. He might have wanted to write the letter himself because you were important to him, or because he didn't want to have it seen with the rest of the mail."

"She had to have known, though," Ron said, "I didn't get a regular letter from her, just the one signed by Dumbledore."

"This is crazy," Ginny said, "I thought Gryffindors were supposed to be brave. Why don't you go and ask Dumbledore who the Head Boy is."

Ron blustered, "I can't just go up there and ask him."

"Why not?" Ginny asked, looking at Ron intently. "If he did give it to Malfoy, I'm sure he had a good reason. If he didn't, then you'll know, and you can gloat."

"Ron," Hermione said softly, "I think she's right. You should ask Dumbledore."

"It's too late," Ron said, looking at the head table. Dumbledore was already leaving the table. He said a few words to Snape and Fleur, and then walked towards one of the back hallways.

"It's not too late," Ginny said impatiently. "Just go to his office and ask him."

"He's busy," Ron said, uneasy. "I'll talk to him later in the week."

"Ron, I can tell this is eating you up," Hermione said softly, "I'll go with you if you want, but you can't let it go."

"I don't think I want to know, Hermione," Ron said back. "If it's Malfoy, I just don't want to know."

Across the room, Malfoy stood, his chin in the air. "Prefects, attend to your students. First year Slytherins, over here."

"You're going," Ginny said. "Even if it is Malfoy, you deserve an explanation."

Hermione knew Ginny was right. If Ron didn't go now, he wouldn't be able to rest until he had an explanation, and he probably wouldn't trust Dumbledore until he found out what had really happened. She pulled his arm. "Come on, let's go."

"What about dinner?" Ron protested, looking down at his plate, which was still untouched.

"You can go by the kitchens later," she said, "come on."

Malfoy was walking towards them, she noticed, but she ignored him, pulling Ron to his feet.

"Where do you think you're going?" Malfoy asked from behind them.

"To bring this travesty to an end," Hermione replied angrily, "We're going to talk to Dumbledore about this."

"Wait!" Malfoy commanded, "What about your first years?"

"Why do you care, Malfoy?" Hermione sneered at him.

"It's my job, Granger," he said, flashing his badge back at her.

"No, it's not," she replied. "The other Prefects will take care of our first years, we're going to get this straightened out."

"Fine by me," Malfoy said, "You know where to find me, Weasley, if you want to give me your extra badge." He turned, and returned to his table to get his own first years in order. Ron and Hermione walked off, past the Head Table, towards the stairs.

Once they were in the corridor, Hermione turned to Ron. "You aren't acting like yourself, Ron. What's wrong?"

"It's complicated, Hermione."

"Talk to me," she commanded. "Why did you suddenly stop standing up to Malfoy? Why aren't you willing to go to Dumbledore?"

Ron looked down at his shoes. "I told you about the Mirror of Erised, in my first year, right?"

"Yes, you did, and so did Harry. You saw yourself as Head Boy then, didn't you?"

"I did, then. That was a long time ago, Hermione. I think I've been almost killed or expelled at least a dozen times since then, and you know what, I don't think I care anymore."

"What?" Hermione asked, looking at him in amazement.

"Don't make a big deal about it," he said, looking embarassed. "It's only that there are things that are more important to me. My friends, my family, you, those are all worth more than a thousand Head Boy badges."

"That's wonderful, Ron, but I don't understand why you won't stand up to Malfoy. Or why you stood up to him outside, but won't here."

"I had time to think about it, Hermione. Do you really think there's any way I would make Head Boy? What kind of world would let that happen? Malfoy got it, fair and square, but I don't want to hear it from Dumbledore. I don't want to let it be important to me, when I know I'm going to lose out."

"So, you don't want to talk to him?" Hermione asked.

"Not if he's going to say it's not me," Ron replied.

She took his hand, and held it, looking up at his face, trying to capture his eyes. He met her gaze, and leaned in, but they both jumped back at the sound of footsteps from down the hall.

She turned, and saw that Professor Ding was following Professor Valek, talking to her. Valek seemed to be trying to ignore Ding, walking as fast as her legs would carry her. "Get back here! I know it's you. You can't abandon the Way like this, I won't let you."

"I don't need your Way," Valek said over her shoulder. She hopped up a stairway that was in the middle of moving, and walked quickly towards one of the side passages.

Ding stopped, looking at Hermione and Ron, "Welcome back. Aren't you supposed to be escorting the first year students?"

"We had to ask Dumbledore about something, first," Ron replied. "We were on our way up to his office."

"I'm not sure now is such a good time," Professor Ding said hesitently. "He seems to be in a bad mood. I barely saw his eyes twinkle during dinner at all."

"It's important," Hermione said, "but thanks for the warning. We'll try not to overstay our welcome. Do you know Professor Valek?"

"I know of her," Professor Ding said, setting her jaw. "Be careful. She's not someone you should trust."

"What do you mean," Ron said, "is she working for You Know Who?"

"I said you couldn't trust her," Ding said, "I didn't say that she was a Death Eater."

"What did you mean, then?" Hermione asked.

"It's not something I am free to talk about," Ding said, "Just promise me you'll be careful."

"Around our Dark Arts teacher? Always," Ron affirmed.

"I didn't think you would be back this year," Ron said. "Do you think you'll have time for, you know, practice?"

Professor Ding shook her head, "I think you've learned everything I can teach you. I was always better at the softer side of the Way, at any rate. I could put you in contact with a good master after school, though."

"That would be great," Ron replied, but he looked disappointed. "I wish I could learn more this year, though."

"I'm sure you will," Ding said, "but first, you should probably take care of your problem. I'm sure I'll see you around."

"I'm sure," Ron said. They went their separate ways, Ding headed towards her own quarters, Ron and Hermione still heading for Dumbledore's office.

Ron stopped at the gargoyle. "What now?" he asked. "I don't know the password."

"Honestly," Hermione said, "how many different types of sweets are there?"

"You would be surprised," Ron said. He rattled off at least a dozen Hermione had never heard of before the gargoyle finally began to move.

Dumbledore's office was dark. There was a hood over Fawke's perch. At first, Hermione assumed Dumbledore had already gone to sleep, but then she saw him, sitting in the dark at his desk. He wore a gray dressing gown with sparkles, a knit-cap, and his glasses. He was playing with a quill.

"Mister Weasley, Miss Granger," he nodded his head in greeting, "I was wondering how soon you would arrive. Where are Mister Potter and Miss Weasley?"

"They're helping the midgets upstairs," Ron said. He took a deep breath, and then continued, "I wanted to talk to you about the Head Boy badge."

Dumbledore put the quill down. "Yes, I rather thought you might. Have a seat."

Ron and Hermione sat down, and stared at Dumbledore's face. Hermione thought he had aged over the summer. He looked like something was weighing on him heavily. He didn't say anything, but Hermione sat quietly, looking at him. Ron shifted nervously in his seat, like he was waiting for a prison sentence to be handed down.

Finally, Dumbledore spoke. "I cannot shed any light on the events of this summer, for, you see, I myself do not know whom the badge belongs to."

"You're kidding," Hermione said.

"No, I assure you, I am not," Dumbledore said. "This year, we encountered a situation that has happened very rarely in the history of Hogwarts. As you know, the Prefects were unable to reach a concensus on whom should be recommended at the end of last year. Instead, they submitted several names, including both Mister Malfoy's and Mister Weasley's. I had my own feelings on whom should be granted the post, on who best stood for what I believe Hogwarts to represent, as did most of the Professors, most notably Professor Snape. However, the governors believed that I might be somewhat partial in my final decision, and, as a result, they insisted that I take steps to remove my own partiality from the equation."

"How would you do that?" Hermione asked, her intellectual curiosity piqued.

"I used a little known spell, courtesy of Madam Pince, which is related to that used in the Goblet of Fire. Two letters were written, both signed by me, and they were both placed in an ensorcelled Goblet. A House Elf was to remove the winning letter and place it in an envelope with the badge. During the evening, while the letters waited in the Goblet, someone attacked the House Elf. He was found nearby, stupefied, and unable to recall the last week of events. The goblet was empty."

"So, can't you just try again?" Ron said.

"No, I'm afraid not, Mister Weasley," Dumbledore said. Hermione could hear a rasp in his voice that concerned her. She was no mediwitch, but it sounded much like what she had heard in her own grandfather, before he died of lung failure. He continued, and she listened closely, hoping she was hearing something that wasn't there. "The Goblet spell may not be cast for the same question twice, and Hogwarts law is clear. Whoever receives a letter and badge from the Headmaster is, in fact, Hogwarts Head Boy, unless he refuses the post."

"So, they're both Head Boys?" Hermione asked.

"In effect," Dumbledore said, "that is the case. However, Hogwarts law is also clear that there may be only one Head Boy at a time. This presents us with an interesting conundrum. It may be that neither one of them may be considered Head Boy until one or the other refuses the post, of his own free will."

Ron snorted, "The chances of Malfoy doing that on my behalf are about nil, I'd say."

"I can see why you would believe so," Dumbledore said, "but I believe you may not see the whole picture. I believe you underestimate Mister Malfoy. If he did not have hidden strengths, the competition between the two of you might not have been as close."

"They're hidden, all right," Ron scoffed.

"I believe you may wish to think back to an evening last year, when you might have seen some of those strengths for yourself," Dumbledore said wryly. Ron grimaced, but Hermione had no idea what he was talking about. "I did not hear of that from Mister Malfoy, but I do know some of what occurred, and I believe you did not find him to be totally unhelpful."

"What's he talking about, Ron?" Hermione asked.

Ron shook his head. "It was the night I rescued you," he said, "but I'll tell you about it later."

Malfoy had proven himself "not totally unhelpful" on the night of her rescue? She hadn't heard about that before. She wondered what behavior on the Slytherin's part might have constituted a lack of aggression, and if she owed him anything for it.

"I'm afraid I will have to wish you Good Evening," Dumbledore said, rising with some difficulty from his chair. "Events have taken much out of me, recently, and I must eventually sleep."

"Goodnight, Headmaster," Hermione said. She looked at him closely, her eyes heavy with worry.

"Goodnight, Miss Granger," the Headmaster said. He looked her in the eyes, and leaned in, whispering. "Do not worry, it is not quite the last moment yet."

~.~.~

Dejected, Hermione and Ron trudged up the stairs towards Gryffindor Tower. Ron's ears perked up as they were still a landing away, and he tugged her arm. "Hurry up," he commanded, "I think something's going on upstairs."

He pulled out his wand, as did she, and they ran up the stairs. The portrait was yawning open, and Harry was in front of it. He had his wand out, pointed at the still nameless girl from the train.

"What's wrong, Harry?" Hermione asked, keeping her wand pointed at the unknown Slytherin.

"She was trying to get into the Tower," Harry said. "I think she was coming to spy on us."

"Wotcher, Weasley?" the girl said as Ron came into view. "Get all the orange off ya yet?"

"Never mind that," Ron said, flushing. "What were you doing up here?"

"I can explain," the Slytherin girl said, a distinct Cockney tone in her voice, "it ain't what you think." She waved the lock of hair out of her eyes.

"As if I haven't heard that before," Harry shot back.

"Look, I was just coming to deliver a message," she said.

"To whom," Harry demanded.

"I'm not sure I should tell you," the girl said.

"Harry, should I get McGonagall?" Hermione asked.

"Oh, please don't," the girl dimpled, "I don't want to be in trouble on the first day. I promise, you'll never see me here again."

"What about your message?" Ron asked.

"It's not important," she said, "I'll find a different way to give it to the person who needs it."

"What do you think, Harry?" Ron asked.

"I'm not sure," Harry said. "You know what we thought of Malfoy, years ago, when he did his best to get us in trouble. I don't want to be a dirty rotten snitch like him. But she is a Slytherin... Oh, let her go." Harry addressed her, "If we see you around again, though, we'll have to turn you in."

"Thanks," she said, relieved. "I'm sure I'll see you around. Just not here."

"See you," Ron said, waving. She hurried down the stairs. Harry watched her run away, his wand out the whole time.

"Do you think that was wise? Letting her go, I mean?" Hermione asked.

"I didn't want to have to tell McGonagall you were just now coming back, together. I know you were seeing Dumbledore, but since it was a Slytherin trying to get in the door, Snape would have gotten involved..."

"Say no more," Ron said, "You did the right thing. If she's a spy for You Know Who, then he's in more trouble than we thought. How did you know she was trying to get in?"

"The Fat Lady called me," Harry said. "The Slytherin tripped on the top step, and it didn't look like she was going to get up. So, how did it go with Dumbledore?"

Ron scowled, "I'll tell you about it later. Let's get some sleep." He took Hermione's hand, and they all walked into the Common Room together.

A/N - Next Chapter, Approaching the Feet of the Master, wherein Valek and Malfoy hit it off.