Disclaimer:

I do not own the worlds and characters featured in this Harry Potter X Final Fantasy VII fanfiction, nor do I have permission to use them. The settings and characters from the Harry Potter universe are owned and trademarked by JK Rowling and the many licensors of her work. The settings and characters from the Final Fantasy multi-verse are owned by Square Enix (I think) and the many licensors of her work. I do not make money through this story.

Trigger warning:

This story deals with dark themes and though I have tried to avoid graphic depictions, it involves violence, rape, death, and the fallout of these events. Please read with caution.

On with the story…

CHAPTER TWO

Friendships, Old and New

#

Over the next few days, Hermione pushed herself ever harder to control her sorcery. The blinding headaches and excessive tiredness accompanying her early uses of Mako spells receded until she could cast several times in a row and still be fine. She learned to use Mako in short bursts of power and use witchcraft to sustain her sorcery's initial effects. A low-powered blizzard cast on a towel, followed by a quick stasis charm, made for an excellent and long-lasting cold compress — which was very useful at the end of a grueling training session. She had noticed that, as her energy levels had increased after she'd started her physical training over the summer, her magical levels — both for witchcraft and sorcery — were steadily rising as she learned to master her powers. It also helped that her stamina had grown, leading her to be able to keep going longer if she needed to.

Since the incident with Ron in the common room, the rest of Gryffindor House seemed to tread on eggshells around Hermione. She was both delighted to not have to answer stupid questions every five minutes, and despondent to have lost a lot of the camaraderie from years past. Ron was still grumpy about the fact his best girl friend continued to refuse him the use of her essays. And so he continued to comment on her gray hair, her weird green eye, and the scar on her face. Harry found himself stuck between his two best friends. Remembering the feeling from two years ago, Hermione just let him be. Besides, he had enough troubles between the strange lesson Dumbledore had given him at the beginning of the year, his sudden and unwanted popularity as the Boy Who Lived and the Gryffindor Quidditch Captain, and his normal coursework.

Strangely enough, it was Neville who acted as Hermione sounding board for her own bad behavior. Having spent the summer relatively alone, Hermione had not really been prepared for the camaraderie and cheerfulness of Gryffindor House, even in the increasingly dark times. Watching the little firsties jump and skip about without a care in the world had quickly found her last nerve. But the soft spoken young man that was Neville Longbottom had thrown hard looks in her direction whenever her words got too cutting. And he was able to magically curb her anger with a touch or a smile, and often without inducing a flinch from the now touch-shy witch. The same was true of Luna, even if the Ravenclaw witch did not have the same number of opportunities to practice this rather strange skill. Both Houses were quite thankful for them, and were quite happy to leave both Hufflepuff and Slytherin at the mercy of Hermione's ice cold rages.

Hermione's birthday was marked by only a few. She received a watch from Professor McGonagall. She knew it was a tradition for a new adult in the wizarding world to receive this, usually from their parents. The fact that the strict Tranfiguration teacher had thought of it for her spoke volumes. She'd been given books or vouchers for Flourish & Blotts by almost everyone else. One major surprise came in the form of an unknown owl bearing a small package with the emblem of Gringotts. Within the package, she found a signet ring along with a supply of silver magical wax. Nagnok's short missive confirmed that she was now the official Head of House Granger, and both official and personal correspondence could now be sealed with her ring. The design, the goblin continued, had been approved by a certain Gaian spirit. Hermione studied the symbol of the one-winged lioness holding a katana as if ready to do battle, and she agreed it would suit a House of sword and magic perfectly well.

But the greatest surprise of all came exactly a week after Hermione's outburst at Ron. Pansy Parkinson approached her just as the sorceress was crossing the Entrance Hall, ready to go train outside. The Slytherin witch proceeded to politely request a minute of Hermione's time for a quick word. Hermione followed Pansy to one side, away from both the Slytherin and Gryffindor crowds.

"Have you finished the essay for Professor Snape?"

Hermione blinked once as she watched the Slytherin witch in front of her.

"I have. Why?"

"Would you be able to help me out with the practical portion of the work?"

"Err… Okay. When do you want to do that?"

"I was hoping right now. I still have to work on Professor McGonagall's essay."

Hermione shrugged and she looked around.

"I'd rather find one of the teachers and tell them we'll be practicing. No need taking the risk of losing Houses points."

Parkinson nodded and the two of them turned to hunt down a professor. They managed to find Professor Flitwick and requested his permission to use an empty classroom. If the half goblin was surprised at seeing a Slytherin and a Gryffindor working together, he chose not to comment. Instead he wrote them a permission slip, led them to a specific classroom, and warded said room so he would know who came in and out of the room and if anyone got hurt.

"Now girls, I'm trusting not to cast any spell that is too dangerous."

"Yes, Professor," the two witches chorused.

Flitwick left them to it and Hermione went through a few quick stretches while Parkinson took off her outer robes. The witch-sorceress found herself watched by Parkinson's hazel gaze.

"Are you ever wearing anything other than this these days?"

Hermione glanced down at her Second Class SOLDIER outfit then shrugged.

"It's my uniform." At Parkinson's rather confused gaze, Hermione explained. "I'm a member of an organization called SOLDIER. We're divided into three groups. Once recruited and trained, you become a Third Class member and wear the same outfit as this, but in dark blue. The Second Class members, like me, wear dark red, and the First Class wear black. Although technically, you can wear whatever you want once you reach that level."

"So you're a Second Class?"

"Yep. That's me. Hermione, SOLDIER, Second Class. At your service."

Hermione playfully bowed at Parkinson who strangely enough answered with a slight curtsy.

It's a reflex. Pureblood manners.

And how on earth would you know this?

Lifestream knowledge. Concentrate. Here is your chance to determine whether or not she has the potential of being an ally.

She's a pureblood from a dark family. She won't ever ally with Harry. She won't be allowed to.

I am not talking about her family or Harry. I'm talking about her and you. If it comes down to a fight, would she maybe choose to step out of your way, given the right circumstances, rather than engage you?

Sephiroth's consciousness faded once more into the background and Hermione blinked a few times as her focus switched back to Parkinson, who was still studying her SOLDIER uniform. The Gryffindor witch purposefully stretched her legs some more.

"It's more comfortable to train in than my Hogwarts uniform. Actually, it's simply more comfortable all around."

"Is this why you started wearing trousers with your Hogwarts uniform too?"

"Sort of. I must say that yes, I got used to trousers over the summer. There's also the fact that SOLDIERs believe in being ready at a moment's notice, every hour of the day. Given how physical the life of a SOLDIER can be, trousers are the default for everyone in the unit. I think the only exception would be if there was a ball or something."

The witch blinked once, but asked no more question. Hermione rolled her shoulders a few times then drew her wand from its sheath at her back.

"So… What do you want to work on?"

"Silent casting."

Hermione nodded and looked around the room.

"You want to aim at me? Or how do you want to go about it?"

Parkinson grimaced.

"I would prefer if you could stand with me and tell me where I'm going wrong."

Hermione nodded and turned, transfiguring a desk into a large round target. She then went to take her place, one step behind and to the right of the Slytherin.

"All right. Let's see you cast a basic stupefy at that thing."

Parkinson glanced at her sideways, but cast the spell with a mutter. The jet of red light hit the target dead center and Hermione nodded.

"Well, at least we don't need to work on your aim. Now can you explain what you did to cast? And before you say anything, I know the part about speaking and the flicking of the wand. What I mean is, can you decompose what happened during that split second between you deciding to cast and starting to speak the spell?"

Parkinson, who had made to speak, now stopped. She blinked and closed her mouth, thinking.

"I don't think I can."

"Well, I'll tell you how it feels to me."

Hermione walked off to the side and hopped onto a desk there, her feet dangling beneath her. She sat for a few seconds in silence then breathed in deep once.

"When deciding to use magic," Hermione started, "there's a moment I spend remembering the incantation and the wand movement needed. And in that same moment is when my intent crystalizes within my mind. Whatever I have chosen to do, it comes to the fore, taking over all other thoughts for that moment. Then and only then will my magic spark."

The Gryffindor witch closed her eyes as a half-smile played on her lips.

"It starts with a strange feeling," she continued. "It's a… a ball of steel popping into existence in my chest, dropping into my stomach. It contracts and it grows warm. And soon the warmth spreads across the rest of my body. It travels up then down into my casting arm and becomes more and more concentrated as it goes. And then, it's funneled into my wand and ready to use. And that's when I know I can speak the spell and move my wand as required to ease the passage of magic from within my body and mind, and into existence and reality."

Hermione breathed deeply then opened her eyes to see Parkinson just standing there, watching her. The Gryffindor's peaceful feeling of remembered communion with her magic was somewhat reflected on the Slytherin's awed face. Hermione shook off the feeling and pulled her feet onto the desk so she was sitting crossed-legged onto the wooden working top.

"Now, there are several things that you need to understand before you really are able to cast silent magic. Or even wandless magic. One, we don't need a wand to start with. All of us are powerful enough to use magic without a wand. After all, that's how our parents realized we were witches. Two, we have been conditioned to use both wands and rituals to access our magic. To be fair, our ancestors knew what they were doing when they developed both wands, to make it easier to access magic, and rituals made up of words of power and wand movements to better increase and focus our intents. But as I said, we don't actually need a wand or even the rituals. It's just easier to use magic this way. And three, it's my understanding that everyone experiences their magic differently. But once you know how your magic sparks within you, you will be able to get it to do so even when you don't have a wand in your hand."

Parkinson blinked a few times as she fingered her wand. Hermione just sat in silence, letting her classmate work through her thoughts.

"How did you find out? I mean, about how your magic works for you?"

"Meditation. It was part of my SOLDIER training."

Not really, Sephiroth interjected.

But Hermione ignored the angel in her head and uncrossed her legs before jumping off the desk.

"I think this is probably the best way for you to get it as well."

Hermione talked Parkinson through finding a comfortable position, the relaxing and slow breathing, letting her voice guide the other witch into the trance-like state before she left her to it. Parkinson chose to close her eyes through it and Hermione watched over the Slytherin for the duration. Once she was ready, Parkinson opened her eyes once more, took a deep breath then stood and stretched.

"How do you feel?" Hermione asked in a soft voice.

Parkinson blinked twice.

"Calm," came the murmured reply.

Hermione let a half-smile play on her lips for a moment.

"If you practice meditating every night, until it becomes really easy to get into this meditating state and stay in it, you can start to cast a spell when this calm. Something that's really simple for you, that requires no real thinking. Then you can try to retrace your magic — and the feelings it evokes — back to its source within you."

"And then I can cast silently?"

"You'd be a step closer, anyway. If you want to, we can meet again next week. Same time, same place. We'll work through any problems you might have encountered and see if you can get to casting silently as least."

Parkinson blinked again, the peace leaving her eyes even as she realized that they now needed to leave the classroom. A glance at the window showed the Scottish skies had already started to darken.

"What time is it?"

"Just an hour away from dinner, actually," Hermione said after a quick glance at her watch. "I'm impressed. First time I got into a trance, I barely lasted thirty minutes. You were under for close to two hours."

"Yeah," Parkinson winced as she shook her arms and legs, "I can feel it now."

"My fault," Hermione said as she grabbed her wand and with a wave she cast her combined-magic, cold compress charm onto her fellow student. Parkinson shivered as the cold worked through her body and soothed the pins and needles in her limbs. "I should have gotten you to move about a bit."

"Is it always going to be like this?"

"Without some physical training, it might be a while but your body will get used to it."

"Physical training?" Pansy repeated.

"Yeah. I'm working out every day, although it's more to keep up with my SOLDIER training than anything else. But I suppose I could teach you some simple exercises you can do indoors. Like stretches."

Pansy nodded slowly and Hermione pasted a bright smile on her face. As the two witches prepared to leave the room, returning the target to its original state as a desk, Parkinson looked sideways at Hermione.

"So if I meditate, I'll see how my magic works. And then I'll be able to cast silently, and maybe even wandless."

"That's the theory. Like I said, you're welcome to come back here next week. I'll clear it with Professor Flitwick. We can see what you've managed and maybe I'll be able to give you a few more pointers."

Parkinson nodded and left. Hermione watched her go for a moment, wondering just what she had started with this association.

#

As September bled into October, Hermione continued on her path to learning everything she could about sorcery. She worked with Parkinson once or twice a week, and where the rest of their year group was still struggling to cast even the most basics of spells silently, the Slytherin girl was well on her way to becoming proficient with casting most silent charms although curses and hexes — which required a greater focus — were still a bit tricky for her. Ron was still being a prat at times. He kept pushing, trying to get Hermione to do his homework as she had once upon a time. Her continued refusal had led to more comments about her appearance, her scar and hair often making it into the conversation along with comments about her study habits and how no bloke would want her if she didn't learn to hide those flaws. Hermione had had to stop a vengeful Sephiroth from stepping in more than a few times. Lavender Brown had taken to follow Ron around like a lost puppy, and the Gryffindor boy seemed to relish in the attention. He could often be seen strutting around the castle with the girl on his arm. Hermione had confessed to Harry and Neville that she was glad not to be a prefect anymore. This way, she ran no risk of running into them snogging in a corridor during patrols.

The two Gryffindor young men had started to study with her more. Although their schedules did not quite match — since the boys were studying Herbology for their Auror training while she had chosen to study Care of Magical Creatures in a bid to connect with Terran summons more easily — they managed to study in the Library on Thursday mornings and in the common room most evenings. Both were quiet and willing to do their own work, and Hermione did not mind throwing them a few pointers now and then. But she stuck to her guns and didn't let them copy off her finished essays, though she shared her research notes. The two never once asked though. Harry was doing better than ever in Potions since he had found the Half-Blood Prince's old potion book. Hermione had cautioned her friend against relying on said book too much, by pointing out that an Auror simply needed to know his stuff or he'd risk his life along with those of others. Harry had agreed but still used the book. At least, he was now trying to understand the meaning behind the corrections. If Harry and Neville knew about Hermione's meetings with Pansy Parkinson, they had yet to say anything about it, although Neville had mentioned how much quicker the Slytherin witch was advancing in Defense compared to most.

With the first trip to Hogsmeade fast approaching, the upper years had started making preparations for their time out of school the week before. Although Hermione had planned to just stay behind and train some more, her plans had been shelved when both Neville and Harry had made it perfectly clear that they would not let her ward herself in the common room. The two young men had dragged her all the way to the Entrance Hall. Hermione had frozen for a moment then struggled not to flinch away from her friends as they'd placed their hands on her mouth to stop her from protesting. They'd then added her name to Professor McGonagall's list. The older witch had smirked at her Gryffindors' antics, but still had written Hermione's name to the list of students who would be going out.

When that eagerly awaited Saturday came, the Hogwarts crowd went to breakfast then prepared to leave. Harry and Neville flanked Hermione past Filch, all the while keeping an arm behind her to stop her from bolting backward. Hermione knew she could have broken away from their harmless attentions at any time with a few well-placed elbows and knees, if she'd truly wanted. And she also knew they would have let her stay behind if she'd explained that she wasn't up to it for whatever reason. But for the first time in a long while, Hermione felt like she was happy. Harry and Neville's touches were gentle and light, and she welcomed them as she had not welcomed a touch since… what felt like forever.

The boys dragged her into Scrivenshaft's and the local branch of Flourish & Blotts, and she then followed them into Honeydukes so they could stock up on their favorite sweets and chocolate. They met with Luna and Ginny in The Three Broomsticks, where Hermione treated everyone to a couple of butterbeers. Ron and Lavender joined them a little later and Hermione signaled Madam Rosmerta for another round before the two were even settled. The atmosphere remained friendly and Hermione settled the bill before anyone could argue — as she knew Harry and Neville would have. The group finally started on their way back to Hogwarts, the girls laden with brightly-wrapped packages. As their little group made it to the Great Hall, Ron launched his arms around both Lavender and Hermione's shoulders. He brought both witches against him, one on either sides.

"All we need now is one of Hogwarts' finest meals!" Ron exclaimed.

But Hermione tensed and shook his arm off her shoulder with gritted teeth. Ron frowned at her.

"What the matter with you now?"

"Nothing. I just remembered that I forgot to send a letter to my account manager at Gringotts. I need to do it now, before I run into troubles with him."

Hermione waved on the others, but she noted that neither Harry nor Neville seemed to have bought her explanation. She chose not to turn back as she walked away, rather certain that both young men were watching her leave.

The following Monday saw Harry going off for his second session with Dumbledore. Ron, Neville and Hermione stayed up to wait for their friend's return. But Harry was frustrated when he finally made it back to Gryffindor Tower.

"What is the use of learning that Riddle was an orphan with a nasty streak a mile wide. That's not going to help me find a way to defeat him, is it?"

"Maybe the Headmaster wants you to learn more about him so you can try and guess what he might do next?" Neville suggested.

"But that's crazy," Ron said. "We already have Dumbledore for that. If anyone knows how You-Know-Who's mind works, that's the Headmaster."

"It's never good to keep that kind of knowledge in one place or with just one person," Hermione said as she sat on the floor and opposite the other three. "If something happens to Professor Dumbledore, we'd be without that knowledge altogether. And we've all seen the Headmaster's hand. He's obviously been cursed, and badly so or Madam Pomfrey would have sorted that out by now."

The boys fell silent as they mulled over the implications. For her part, Hermione turned her mind inward. But Sephiroth had nothing more to add. The four Gryffindors finally retired to their beds. Hermione took the opportunity to reach for the spirit living inside her head.

You've been awfully quiet, Sephiroth. No Gaian pearl of wisdom to impart?

Just once again wondering why a group of teenagers is being asked to fight a rebel movement on their own.

Correct me if I'm wrong, but weren't SOLDIER members picked out and trained from the age of sixteen?

Yes. But we all chose to become part of Shinra's army. For better or worse, we signed up.

You didn't. Neither did Angeal and Genesis from what I've seen of your memories.

True. But we were bred for war. We never had — nor did we want, at the time — another option.

So how is my situation different from yours?

The spirit said nothing more and Hermione counted it as a small victory, never mind that it was kind of a bitter one. The morning passed without much of anything happening. But as she finished her meal, she was joined by Neville. The Gryffindor wizard said nothing but once Hermione had finished her food, he took her hand and led her to the unused classroom that she had recently been using with Pansy for their training time together.

"I need to ask you something," Neville started. "And I know it's not really any of my business. But I feel like I need to say it. And I just hope you will hold off before you blast me to smithereens."

Neville said those last few words with a self-deprecating smile, and Hermione couldn't help but give him a tentative smile back.

That sounds kind of ominous.

Stay out of this, Sephiroth. You are not the little voice of conscience in my head.

No. Just the little voice of sorcery.

Hermione huffed quietly then returned her full attention on her friend. Neville stood opposite her, his hands running through his hair and his right foot scuffing along the stone floor.

"Well," the Gryffindor witch chuckled, "I've never bitten someone's head off just because they'd asked me a question."

"Yeah," Neville huffed a laugh too. "If you can put up with Parkinson, I guess you can deal with pretty much anyone and anything."

"You know about that?"

There Neville reverted to his nervous self.

"I.. Err. Imayhavefollowedyouafewtimeswhenyouwenttotrainwithher…"

Hermione blinked twice.

"Say what?"

I think he said he followed you, Sephiroth laughed.

"I said," Neville sighed, "that I may have followed you a few times when you went to train with her."

Hermione smiled. "Yeah, that's what I thought you said.

The Gryffindor wizard grumbled but Hermione just smiled at him some more.

"I was worried," Neville grumped. "Plus, I was wondering why you were training her but not helping the others with their homework."

"And your conclusions, oh grand master of psychology?"

Neville frowned but obviously opted to ignore both the sarcasm and the unknown Muggle term.

"She did the work. She was willing to put in the additional hours to get better at Defense."

Hermione sighed. She knew Neville was only trying to help. She just wasn't too keen on where this was going. The Gryffindor wizard ran a hand through his hair.

"Look. I know something happened back during the Easter hols."

Hermione jerked back but Neville reached for her hand.

"Hermione. Like I said, it's none of my business really. And I'm not asking you to share."

The young witch fought for control, to not flinch at her friend's touch, to not shake his hand off of her, to not strike out at him in anger and fear. Neville seemed to sense that. He let go of her hand and gave her a sheepish smile.

"I… err… I just wanted to make sure you'll be all right over half-term. I mean, I guess you'll be staying here but… Well, I wanted you to know that you're welcome at mine. I mean, if you want of course. I can just owl grandma and tell her I'm bringing you along."

Hermione blinked at Neville's nervous rambling.

He cares. He's not the only one. Even the Weasley boy, in his own oafish ways, cares for you.

I know, Hermione sighed in her mind. It's just hard, seeing them just as they've always been and knowing how much things have changed for me.

That's a lie, Hermione. Never, ever lie to yourself. Never did me any good. Rather, consider how things have changed for them too. After all, Neville might have been ready to stand up to you even as back as first year. But never would he have tackled you about your feelings on his own before. He would have told Harry and Ron, and let them try to deal with you. Ron would have done a lot more than just make comments about your appearance, once upon a time. And Harry might have been here to temperate Ron's words, but he would have sided firmly with him in trying to find out exactly what happened.

Hermione blinked again. She then turned to Neville.

"It's fine, Neville. I do have somewhere to be for the holidays. I'll be on the train back, same as usual."

"But… Where will you stay?"

"Don't worry. It's all sorted already."

Is it?

Well, not yet. But I'm sure Nagnok will be happy to find us a little pad somewhere in Chingford.

"Are you sure, Hermione?"

"Yes. Don't worry, Neville."

After this conversation, Hermione wasn't too surprised when, a few days later, Ginny came to offer her a place at the Burrow over the holidays. This time, the sorceress was able to cheerfully refuse. She had owled Nagnok, who in turn had promptly bought a small studio flat right by the park Hermione had spent most of her summer at. When her Head of House had come calling, Hermione had shown her the deeds of the flat and the older witch had been more or less satisfied. Hermione suspected that McGonagall would have preferred it if her favorite cub had not been alone. But Hermione wasn't really alone, although she didn't say anything to the older witch. And so, the Gryffindor sorceress made it on board the train and back to London for the half-term.

#

Hermione was quite surprised to see a large group made up of youngsters from the karate club and their parents waiting for her on the Muggle side of King's Cross station. After all the obligatory hugs, that never bothered Hermione for some reason, the group moved off dragging the witch-sorceress along. The convoy of five cars — to Hermione's quiet amazement — made its way back to Chingford and the leisure center, where Hermione was welcomed with a little party. The kids were continuously asking about how her studies were going, and the young witch skilfully skirted the truth by saying everything was fine and she was keeping up her grades. She learned that a certain Mr Nagnok had contacted the Chingford Karate Club to let them know when and where Hermione would be coming back.

The weekend saw Hermione settle in her studio flat. Nagnok had anticipated all her basic needs, along with some not so basic ones. He had smoothed everything over with the Muggle authorities. While she was already considered an adult by the Ministry for Magic, it was not so with Her Majesty's government. But Nagnok had apparently pulled a few strings, filled all the relevant forms, and Hermione had been recognized as a seventeen year old living on her own. Hermione had also been both surprised and delighted at the large space occupied by bookshelves in her little flat. Included were a small selection of books about sorcery written from the point of view of witches and wizards. Where Hermione had looked for the rare and unusual journals of sorcery masters over the summer, Nagnok had given her books designed to teach the very basics to mainstream witches and wizards.

Good. Now we can learn more about how the basic skills are learned on Earth. From there, we can extrapolate to what you will achieve given our connection.

Hermione thought Sephiroth sounded rather certain of their combined strengths, although she kept the thought very private. The young witch took some time to finish furnishing the flat, buying a small television set and a cabinet to set it on. She then visited with the people she had gotten to know over the summer holidays. The kids from the karate club were delighted to see her, and Hermione was set upon to demonstrate her skills with the sword along with her own brand of mixed martial arts. It was no great chore for the young witch. She spent a few hours both on Saturday and Sunday doing just that in the nearby park.

However Hermione was shocked when, on Monday evening, she watched the evening news and saw headlines of random attacks by a supposedly new terrorist group — who never bothered to claim their victims, but always used the same tactics: using freak weather patterns to cloak their advance and generally burning everything to the ground after they were done. The following morning, the young witch went looking through the recent archives at her local library. She came back home with a folder full of clippings to study and she soon realized that her first impressions were right: the Death Eaters were having fun attacking Muggles. Nothing had made it into the papers back in the Wizarding world. But then again, it wasn't that surprising given that most witches and wizards were content to pretend the non-magical world didn't exist. What was more worrying was the fact that Dumbledore and the Order of the Phoenix didn't seem to do anything about it either. Instead, the Headmaster was teaching Harry about what Riddle had been like as a child.

Something's not right. We're missing information. Something vital.

Damn Dumbledore! He's doing it again!

Again?

Hermione was on her feet and pacing now.

"He's telling Harry not even half of the things he needs to know and letting him go off half cocked."

You do remember that I can hear your thoughts, Sephiroth snarked.

"Voldemort knows about the prophecy. But we don't. And there's something in it that has made him change his plans."

How do you mean?

"He's always been focused on Harry. He wanted him dead. He would have tried something against him by now."

But Harry is at Hogwarts.

"It's never stopped Voldemort before."

Hermione stopped as she stood facing her bookshelves. Her school books were there, along with the sorcery tomes. Hermione's gaze was fixed on these last.

"I need an edge. A bigger one."

Then we will step up your Mako training. Between my knowledge of what was possible and the knowledge of within these books of what is possible here and now, we should be able to work out a way to accelerate your training.

Hermione nodded and reached for the first book. The rest of her holiday was split between running the advanced taolu she needed to perform for Lin to secure her black sash, and studying sorcery from a witch's point of view rather than from Sephiroth's past experiences as a SOLDIER. Hermione and Sephiroth soon had a better handle on what they would be able to do, as well as how they had managed to get this far. Unlike on Gaia, where users would usually slot their chosen materia within weapons and equipments, Terran materia had to be carried within a person's body in order to be used. The only exception were crystal wands that a witch or a wizard could use to cast wizardry and sorcery-based spells alike. No more than five materia could be carried safely within a body as the increased power was too much to bear otherwise. Power crystals were different. They simply needed to be around in order for their stored power to be accessed. This was why most sorcerers chose to either disguise them as pieces of jewelry and/or protect them with wards meant to prevent anyone from tapping into their powers.

Hermione also learned the basics behind creating both power crystals and materia. The synthetic process Sephiroth had known could obviously not be reproduced on Earth. But both the dark angel and the witch had been surprised to learn that any natural crystal could be used to store energy, although only flawless natural specimen could be changed into materia. Actual Mako crystals were rare, and the only one who referenced their creation was Morgana herself. The sorceress had created a few for her personal use, and had chosen to write down the process on her journals in a roundabout way. But she had never taught the technique to anyone. Only Hermione and Sephiroth's combined knowledge showed them what it was the well-known sorceress had hidden away within the yellowing pages of her journal. And the two of them were lucky enough to know just where they could find a Mako spring.

On Wednesday, during the club's normal lessons, Lin tested Hermione. He finally agreed she had learned what she needed and practiced long enough through all her taolu to deserve her black sash. And Sephiroth agreed that, between her developing sorceress powers, the skills she had developed at swordplay by studying his past fights and developing her own moves, and her knowledge of hand-to-hand combat — something that most of the original members had not known half as well as the Gryffindor witch — Hermione now was a fully fledged, First Class SOLDIER. Once back in their flat, he transformed her red Second Class uniform into a matching black one. The witch went out the following morning, looking all over London for a leather coat to finish off her SOLDIER look. She finally managed to find one that matched her wants: black, falling to her knees, with a high collar, and closing with a few snap-buckles at waist and hips levels. She bought it without hesitation. She spent her lunchtime sketching out the modifications she wanted to make to the coat, though she had no idea how she would go about making her vision a reality. Transfiguration was out, in her mind. She wanted something permanent.

What about your weapon?

Hermione frowned and she felt Sephiroth pulled her into the Lifestream.

"You need a weapon. First Class SOLDIERs do not use the same swords as the lower classes."

"You did give me Masamune."

The silver-haired SOLDIER threw his protege a nasty look, and Hermione smiled sweetly at him. The Lifestream gathered in his hand and Masamune shimmered into being in its master's hand. Hermione extended her right hand forward and felt her wand respond, the length of silk-wrapped, African blackwood pulsing gently along with her heartbeat.

"A blade to be wielded only by those deemed worthy enough Isn't that what you said about my wand, Sephiroth?"

"I did."

Hermione studied the wand of silk, wood, and platinum. She closed her eyes, remembering the feel of Masamune in her hand, the few times she had used it for training. The nodachi was obviously far too long for her; she was neither as strong, nor as tall as the one-winged angel. The SOLDIER broadsword she'd mainly been using was also slightly too heavy. Hermione's style focused on magic and speed. She could hit hard if needed, but not only if she backed-up her strike with magic. What she needed was a katana.

No sooner had she thought the words that she felt magic gather in her wand. She watched as the life force of the Planet gathered around her weapon and a length of steel shimmered into being, even as the young sorceress was sent back to the solitude of her flat. Hermione blinked, the semi-darkness of her apartment quite the contrast to the swirling green lights of the Lifestream. She then turned her blade from side to side, admiring the temper line along the edge.

"You are Genesis."

The blade shone bright with Mako power for an instant before it disappeared, returning to its first appearance as a wand. But Hermione could still feel the power she had awoken, pulsing against her fingers. Now she just needed to get the rest of her SOLDIER outfit sorted.

On Thursday afternoon, Hermione and Sephiroth felt as ready as they thought they would get, given the time they had. They contacted Nagnok to request access to the natural spring beneath Gringotts. Hermione also asked about finding someone in the wizarding world who would be able to craft several sets of pauldrons without asking too many questions. Surprisingly, at least to Hermione, she received a message asking her to present herself to Gringotts the following morning. And so, Hermione stepped into Gringotts first thing on Friday morning. Nagnok was in the entrance hall, waiting for her. He led her back to his office.

"I have spoken with the elders and explained the situation. The Goblin nation wishes to supply your pauldrons in exchange for three sorcerer crystals."

Hermione blinked.

"Do you mean the crystals that store energy?"

But Nagnok smiled in the terrifying goblin fashion and shook his head.

"The other ones, if at all possible."

Hermione couldn't help her little answering smirk.

What's happening here? Sephiroth wondered.

The goblins have been oppressed by human for a long time now. Although magical creatures, they are not allowed to own a wand. For that matter, no one but humans are allowed. I guess it rankles.

And materia are not covered?

I assume not, Hermione replied.

She looked carefully at Nagnok. Hermione was not as naive as she once was. After the debacle with the house elves, Hermione had taken the time to learn a bit more about the different cultures of the wizarding world. And so, she knew that goblins were all about wealth and trading. It was in their very nature to barter for goods and services.

You think you can guide me into creating decent materia, despite the differences? Hermione asked of the angel within her mind.

Yes, but the results might not be as good as they hope.

Hermione nodded and looked back at Nagnok.

"This is what I ultimately want," the sorceress said as she took the sheet of paper bearing her sketched modifications and her shrunken coat from her pocket.

A wave from her wand returned the leather duster to its normal size. She passed the two items to Nagnok and the goblin studied them in silence for a few moments. The sketch was as accurate a picture of the finished product as she could draw. She had stolen the pauldron's design from Sephiroth's memories of Genesis, but kept the black leather coat her personal angel had favored in his time, only short enough that it would hang around her knees.

"As you can see, I have the coat. I just need the armor to be attached to it."

Nagnok studied the coat and the drawing in turn, mumbling to himself in Gobbledygook.

"I think I can manage to find something for you," the goblin finally said.

"Excellent. If you find someone to make and fix the shoulder guards on my coat then I will deliver five materia - five spell-quality crystals - to you. Three as payment for the pauldrons. One as a gift to the Goblin nation. And one as a personal gift to you for helping me. I cannot guarantee the quality of these crystals, as they will be my first attempts."

Nagnok nodded. "A fair trade. And a thoughtful gift."

The goblin smiled again and gestured for Hermione to follow him. And so, the young sorceress spent the next day and a half perfecting her materia crafting skills. By the Mako spring where she had been reborn, Hermione fashioned a grand total of eight materia, along with half a dozen crystals. The crystals were nothing more than basic quartz crystals, that could double up as power crystals but were not worth much else. The materia were fully-functioning, if of varying quality.

By the time she went back home, Hermione was dead on her feet. But she was also the owner of a set of five of her very own SOLDIER coats. Nagnok had gone through the trouble of sourcing a tailor as well as a smith. Between the both of them, the artisans had crafted black dragon leather and mythril-steel into five armored coats. They were lightweight, flexible, and completely impervious to fire. As a thank you, Hermione gave Nagnok two pieces of quartz that were her failed attempts at materia and asked if he would pass them along to the artisans. The goblin confirmed he would. And so, the goblins got their five materia along with two good-sized chunk of quartz. And Hermione ended with three materia for her own use.

Once it was time to get back to Hogwarts, Hermione once more decided to travel by riding on the roof of the first carriage. Hermione spent the ride sitting and watching the countryside flying on either side of her, her black leather coat flapping in the wind behind her.

#

A N: I have very slowly made my way through editing this chapter… using the puny, not-even-5-inch screen of my smartphone. I wanted to make sure you guys knew I was still writing, though it's taking a long time. Even longer now that my children have re-started school and they need help with their homework…

I am amazed that even after near enough two months since the last update, new favorites and follows are trickling into my mailbox. Just for this, I've updated One Winged Witch again instead of Path of Power.

You guys are awesome!