Being temporarily magic-less had left Hermione extremely cautious in classes. She hadn't raised her hand once to ask, or answer, any questions, and had been utilizing her illusions to compensate for actual wand work.
However, in classes where physical objects were magically manipulated, like Transfiguration and Charms, her illusions had not served her well. A shortcoming of her illusions were that they were not yet capable of affecting all the senses. This meant that she could manipulate what people saw, heard, and smelled, and in some rare cases, tasted, but she could not fool their sense of touch. In a class like Transfiguration, in which Professor McGonagall was constantly scrutinizing every minute detail of the object to be transfigured, her illusions were next to useless.
Her inability to perform the magic had been noted by some of the Professors and a few of the more attentive students as well. Draco had mocked her relentlessly for it. He had gone so far as to question whether she was really a witch or not. Hermione shrugged off his comments, after all, he was just a little platinum ponce and there was no need for her to stoop to his level.
At the end of a Transfiguration class in which they were attempting to change animals into goblets and that had left Hermione feeling particularly frustrated - "It's SO easy! OH why did I ever do that sodding ritual"-, Professor McGonagall had asked her to stay behind for a chat.
"Miss Granger. I find myself utterly perplexed by you this year. You have shown me none of the brilliance that you were so famous for last year, and yet, I know for a fact that you are already capable of performing the spells that we have been learning. It is always a shame for a teacher to see talent go to waste, and you certainly are talented. So what exactly is it that is holding you back?"
Hermione was frozen in shock. What could she say? She was certain that a casual "Oh professor there is nothing to worry about, I just temporarily don't have my magic due to an illegal blood ritual" would not fly. She scoured her brain for possible excuses. Maybe a half-truth?
"Well, Professor. I really am sorry about disappointing you. It's just at the end of the holidays something happened and my magic has just been a bit wonky ever since." Well, that was completely true. Time for the lies.
"What is it that happened, Granger? And why wasn't I made aware the day that you returned to Hogwarts?"
"You see, Professor, I was embarrassed."
"Embarrassed about what? Spit it out, Granger!"
"I started my period." Hermione turned deep red as she said it. To support her lie she had to sacrifice a bit of her dignity.
"Say no more, Granger. You know, I remember my first course: whatever I touched would turn into blood. That's when I first knew that I loved Transfiguration. With your parents being squibs you might not know this, but it's nothing to be embarrassed or worried about. In fact, it's an important part of a witch's magical development. Just give it some time, everything will soon be back to normal, and I will expect to see you shining in my class once more. Now off you go."
Hermione, still blushing fiercely, scurried out of the classroom. What a nightmare! She most assuredly did not want to talk about her (non-existent) period with any of her professors. She raced down to the dungeons, ready to unwind after a truly strange day.
What Hermione hadn't noticed was that there had been another student in the classroom. A student who had not filed out of the room but had instead hidden under one of the desks. A student she had once described as a "platinum ponce".
Hermione awoke the next morning to find what seemed like the entire school talking about her. They were all snickering whenever she passed them by, and pointing at her as if she were a zoo animal.
What had happened? Had she forgotten to apply her hair illusion?
No, that was not it.
Deep in thought, Hermione was startled by the sound of running footsteps echoing throughout the hallway. She looked up to find Tracey come hurtling towards her, looking frantic, and breathing heavily.
"HERMIONE!"
"I am going to KILL that NITWIT! How dare he? How absolutely barbaric! "
"Hermione! Calm down. Maybe you should take this to Professor Snape? Let him deal with Draco. You don't want to get in trouble!"
"I should take it to Snape, and I will, but only after I have had a bit of reven-... I mean justice!"
Before Tracey could offer another reasonable opinion, Hermione had run off, intent on finding Draco Malfoy.
As Hermione wandered through the castle, more and more people whispered and giggled. The more people that she encountered that had listened to Draco's gossip, the worse her mood became. When she had finally spotted the little Slytherin princeling holding court in nowhere else but the courtyard - "How inspired" she drawled- , her mood could best be described as black, and it manifested itself in her surroundings. Hermione was unconsciously lengthening shadows, leeching the light from the air, and plunging everything around her into darkness. This had the effect of providing a truly ominous scene, and frightening away many of the students congregated around Draco.
Draco, who had been facing the opposite direction, seemed utterly confused at the mass exodus of his listeners. What could have driven them off, he thought.
He would quickly find out.
Hermione lamented the fact that she only had access to illusions at the moment, otherwise Draco would be in for a whole world of hurt. The most she could do with her illusions would be to terrify him into submission. A flock of birds and a collapsing building had only scared him for so long, but now it was time to bring out something that would really make him realize that he should never even dream of crossing her. She would have to choose her illusions carefully.
Draco turned around. "What are you bloody doing here, Granger? I thought you would be too bloody, that is to say, busy." Draco smirked.
He thought he was so clever. Hermione laughed.
Immediately, frost seemed to form around the courtyard, encasing everything around Draco.
"Granger! WH-"
Dark cloaked figures swooped down from the sky, their wheezing breath adding to the ice forming around the courtyard. Scabbed skeletal hands tugged at the cloak's hood. A swarm of these figures rushed at Draco, eager to steal his soul through a Kiss.
"NOOOOOOOOOO!" Draco screamed and screamed and tried to run away, but the beings drew ever nearer until they had completely surrounded him. The beings undid their hoods and inhaled.
Hermione had tapped into one of wizarding-kind's biggest fears: Dementors. What chance did a twelve year old boy stand against them?
Draco fainted.
Hermione left him there. He would find his own way back.
"Have you heard about Malfoy?"
"Heard what, exactly?"
"They say he's gone mad. He's being moved to St. Mungo's today."
"Well his mum is a Black, innit? It certainly wouldn't be a surprise if he was mad, would it? Mad as hatters that entire family is, me mum says."
Overhearing this exchange during a Herbology lesson, Hermione couldn't help but wonder if she had taken things too far.
