AN: I don't know when I'll be posting updates. I will still try to make it 2-3 times a week, but I may post two on the weekend and who knows what during the week…my job has gotten entirely too hectic. It's eating into my writing time! Grrrrrr.
Hermione let Tom take an early lead on their informal competition for top spot in their class so that she'd have more time to study other things, particularly alchemy. She was having a certain amount of trouble trying to focus on the papers she had to write for the simple concepts. It was all just a bit boring and though she could force herself to focus, it was work to do it. The only reason she put that much effort into it at all was that she didn't want to be a bad influence on Tom. He enjoyed the competition. He was probably bored senseless the first time around without her.
She continued her relationship with Flamel, though she didn't trust him entirely since he'd tattled on her to Dumbledore. If she was being honest, she had to admit it was what she herself might have done, so she didn't get angry at the elderly wizard. But that didn't mean she trusted him.
The odious Professor Green had left Hogwarts (the word around the Slytherin common room was that she had married a Lestrange; Hermione had a funny feeling she had met Bellatrix's mother-in -law). The new Charms teacher was a very familiar little man.
"Professor Finius Flitwick, very much at your service." The mixed class of second years stared at his size but didn't question his wand work. The rumor was that he'd been a dueling champion. Admittedly, Hermione herself had started the rumor by mentioning that fact to Malfoy and then swearing him to silence (without using a wand oath of course). It was the quickest way to disseminate information you wanted the whole school to have.
She was almost certain Flitwick had been a master dueling champion at some point…she just wasn't certain it had happened as of yet.
It did the professor no harm and helped him control his students until he earned their respect. Hermione practically glowed as the two of them discussed theory. Her body was growing a bit (thanks to all that good, elf-provided food) and she could feel her magical power increasing as her magic seemed to settle into what it would be as an adult. The first time around she seemed to settle early and then had an unexpected growth in her magic in what would have been her last year, making her a bit of a late bloomer. This time, her continuous stretching of her own magic seemed to allow it to grow at a better pace. She was already more powerful than she'd been in her third year the first time around, closer to what she'd been at the end of her fifth actually. She would never have quite the raw power of Dumbledore or Tom, but she wasn't a slouch my any means, and she had years of study even on Dumbledore this time around. There was no debate about who Professor Flitwick's favorite student might be!
She'd managed to train the rest of the students to simply expect her to know more about any given subject than anyone in the room, which helped all those awkward questions about how she knew this or that.
Professor Flitwick happily gave her access to his latest Charms periodicals after the first week, and she read them studiously so she would know what she should and shouldn't discuss.
Tom was more interested in Dumbledore's latest Transfiguration lessons. Turning animals into objects was something he was quite adept at. She decided that human transfiguration was only a natural extension so she provided him with a few extra texts she checked out from the library.
"And how do you know the correct books we'll need to study?" His eyes were narrowed.
She sighed. "The witch that taught me was an animagus. A cat. One of her other students was a stag. It was always something I wanted to learn, before, other things got in the way." The last part was very true. Misleading, but true.
Tom began studying and was quickly emerged in the tricky spells that would lead to being an animagus. It kept him out of trouble and was relatively harmless for someone with his talents.
They both enjoyed Slughorn's class. He'd simply watched them during his first year, but this year he was treating them both like two of his stars…little future members of the Slug Club. Hermione didn't care for it, except it meant he allowed them some leeway in class (especially in the use of the school stores for ingredients). He kept them after class right before his first little party.
"I do wish you could join us, but Dumbledore has been most insistent and I'm afraid Professor Dippet will not relent."
Hermione was rather inclined to tell him she wasn't interested in joining the club at all, but Tom's smooth response stopped her. "He's probably quite right sir. It's a shame to miss all the fun and meeting all of your interesting guests, but I doubt they want to meet a couple of second year students. Thank you so much for thinking of us though…"
He put a firm hand on Hermione's back and steered her out into the hall before she could speak. She smirked at him as they walked down the hall.
"I'm guessing you want to be invited to Slug Club at some point and didn't want me to say what I was thinking."
He snorted, but didn't slow down. "If we want to go into the Ministry it's a good idea to join his 'little informal club'."
Hermione rolled her eyes but didn't deny it. "I don't think I want to deal with the Ministry. I'd be tempted to take it over if I had to spend too much time covered in their stupidity." She knew this for certain because she'd been very tempted more than once during her own time. And that was after Voldemort when she was the wizarding world's golden girl. Going in as a nameless orphan would be worse. The Wizarding world was going to get their first Muggle-born Minister of magic eventually…but even so, she was quite sure the pure-bloods had made sure that he was kicked out rather quickly.
Another thought caught her attention. "Do you want to go into the Ministry Tom?"
"I think I'd be an excellent Minister of Magic. I wouldn't mind working in the Law Enforcement branch to start." Oh the irony.
"I would have thought you'd be more drawn to the Unspeakables. If I had to take a position with the Ministry, it's what I would do."
His brows snapped together. "The what?"
She smiled. He wouldn't admit ignorance quite that way to anyone else. He didn't trust them enough. But he trusted her. She leaned down and kissed his cheek. It wasn't quite as smooth as it had once been. She ran her fingers over it.
"You'll be shaving soon." Her voice was strange. She cleared her throat. "Unspeakables work at the Department of Mysteries. They have their own archives and…"
Tom laughed. "You just want to go play in their library."
She batted her eyes. "Guilty."
He pulled her close. "Think you can sneak me in if I become Minister of Magic?"
Her laughter rang down the hall.
HGHGHGHGHGHG
Hermione watched Tom zoom around the pitch in a spare pair of Quidditch robes on Malfoy's old broom. He looked very small out there with the sixth and seventh year students and she had her wand in her hand in case anything happened.
Professor Dumbledore joined her in the stands.
"I see young Mr. Malfoy has recruited your study partner."
She nodded, but her eyes never left him as he darted about with the quaffle. He might make a seeker yet, though she didn't think he'd be quite as good as Harry was. But he had a good feel for the way his body should move on a broom.
"You never told me why you didn't like brooms."
She looked at Dumbledore and changed the subject. "You never told me how many uses for Dragon's blood you found this summer. I had to read about it in a copy of Potion Master's Quarterly that Slughorn loaned me."
The wizard beside her chuckled. "I suppose I didn't. I've been working on that particular project for many years. I wanted to finish it. Otherwise I might have had more time this summer."
"You are afraid that you will lose if you have to face Grindlewald in a one -on-one duel."
She was still watching Tom but she could feel Dumbledore look at her with some suspicion. She felt a spell wash over her. It felt a bit like the thieves' mirror she'd experienced once in the bowels of Gringotts'. She had a feeling he was trying to rid her of some enchantment, possibly polyjuice or a de-aging potion.
She tore her eyes off of Tom and gave him an unfriendly look. "I'm not de-aged."
"But you are not, if you'll pardon my saying so, a normal child."
"No. I never have been." Again, nothing but truth.
She went back to watching Tom.
Dumbledore didn't seem to know quite what to say.
She frowned at him. "You do realize you're a bit ham-fisted with people, correct?"
His lips quirked. "It has been mentioned."
"I am not your enemy Albus Dumbledore."
His voice was quiet. "I do not believe you are. For one thing, you are a bit ham-fisted with people yourself. Your friend Tom is better at manipulation now than you'll ever be. And you seem to have some very rigid morals when it comes to actually lying, though I can tell sometimes that you aren't telling the entire truth."
Her lips turned up slightly. "And you are?"
His blue eyes widened. She couldn't know what he'd thought she guessed, but he had to realize she knew more than she let on.
She took his hand. "Here is something very true. I hope you defeat Grindlewald. I think you will. You are after all, a bit more skillful than he is, despite the wand he wields."
The older man's eyes widened. "He found it?"
"I suspect so. It won't matter though."
Dumbledore looked down at her and sighed. She smiled at him. "He lost the moment he failed to seduce you to his cause. And I think he knows it."
He didn't ask how she knew so much. He just put his face in his hands.
She looked back up at Tom who had just scored a goal. She waved, but she knew he'd seen Dumbledore's despair.
Dumbledore could sense the eyes on him as well.
"Don't worry professor. I don't think you will face him this year, or next. I think he will be too busy solidifying what he's already gained to move just yet."
Dumbledore cleared his throat. "I should not look to a child for hope."
She turned back to him for a second and gave him a smile. "Perhaps not, but we all need hope."
Tom, who focus was not entirely on the game, was knocked off of his broom by a stray bludger in that second. Tom, Dumbledore, and Hermione cast spells to slow him before he hit the ground.
Dumbledore looked at her. Her magic had been non-verbal.
"Not an ordinary child at all, are you?"
She put her wand away as Tom picked up his broom and took off. "I'm rather afraid, I am not."
HGHGHGHGHGHGHG
The fact that Slughorn was forbidden to invite them to any of his little parties did not keep him from 'running' into them with his 'guests' in tow. By Christmas they'd met a beater for the Chudly Cannons (their losing streak was only just beginning in this time line, but Hermione couldn't keep the pity off her face when he talked about winning 'next season'). They'd also been personally introduced to Theodolphus Umbridge from the Department of Regulation of Magical Creatures (she thought a good anti-fertility hex would be a 'win' for the light, but she stayed her hand).
They'd also met the head Auror for the ministry. He was a stately gentleman by the name of Edvard Olivander. He shared the wand maker's eyes, but not his hair…though he might have the same fey manner.
He did look at Hermione's wand intently. "My cousin told me that her wand had chosen another."
"You had the same great-grandmother?"
His lips barely moved. But there was a hint of a smile. "We did. Wandlore has been our family business for a very long time…though I did not follow in the family tradition, I do know a bit about that wand." He nodded to it and Slughorn was watching her intensely.
"Mr. Olivander implied that the wand had only chosen witches." Tom's question was phrased politely, but it was very bold.
The Auror turned his odd eyes to Tom, and Tom didn't flinch. "As far as I know that is true. Garrett would know better than I, but that wand…it is attracted to a certain sort of witch."
Hermione smiled a tad nervously. "Good witches?"
Edvard Olivander turned to her and she fought to hold his gaze as Tom had done. "Sometimes, even often they were good. They were all powerful." He gave her an oddly courtly bow. "We shall meet again Miss Granger."
She reached for Tom's hand as the head of the Auror office walked away with a nervous Slughorn laughing next to him.
The wand in her hand sent warmth down her spine. She let her magic curl around it, probing a bit. The wand was powerful, but it didn't feel evil to her. Not the way a horocrux did. The wand's magic pulsed and she couldn't tell if that was a good thing or a bad one.
HGHGHGHGHGHG
Tom found her in the library the next day before breakfast. He put a triple-wrapped napkin full of berries in the pocket of her robes. "The elves worry when you don't eat."
She sighed. "I know. I'm just troubled."
"About the wand?"
"Among other things." She wasn't sure how far she should trust the Olivander family. Harry had always said there was something a bit off about them.
"What have you discovered?"
"There are two woods in this wand. We knew that. I thought I'd start by looking up the properties." She read directly from the leather-bound book in front of her, "An Ash wand is an excellent wood for promoting the mind, aids in communication, intelligence, wisdom, and promotes curiosity"
Tom smirked. "Sounds like you. Though you don't need any help with the curiosity."
"The word "Rowan" is said by some to have come from the same base as the Nordic word "Rune," which means "magic, secret." Some say the Runes were traditionally carved from sticks from the Rowan tree." She sighed. "It goes on a bit, but Rowan is traditionally used for powerful protections. A lot of Aurors use one as their secondary wand. Olivander only uses powerful cores, so it's not surprising that this is a phoenix core." She shut the book in frustration. "And I can't find anything about a wand that's been passed down through female wielders. Most wands are buried with their owners these days."
"We should ask Olivander about his great-grandmother's name next summer."
She looked up, pleased with him.
"That would help." She began to put away the books. "Since I can't do anything about it until then, we can get back to our other work."
Normally, Hermione would be planning for a nice long visit with the restricted section of the Hogwarts library during the holiday, but they were planning to ride the train to London and travel with Abraxas and his other guests to Malfoy manner.
They'd found some antique robes last summer. They were plain and black, but her set was made of velvet and his was very nice wool. They'd both been damaged and moth eaten when they were purchased, but Tom had figured out the correct charms to fix those issues, and Hermione could have changed the color…but they left them. Hermione didn't care, as long as they didn't disgrace themselves, and Tom was aware he looked very good in black.
Hermione had charmed some flowers for them to wear…a corsage for Tom and a spray for her hair. They were from the Hogwarts greenhouse, but no one would mind a few blooms.
She didn't have a small 'weekend' sized case, so she'd had to transfigure one. She was glad there was only one major party they'd have to attend. The rest of the time she intended to wear muggle-style shirts with her uniform skirts. She wouldn't look like any of the pure-bloods, but she would look like herself. She was hoping the Malfoys would allow her to leave if the company got too annoying. If not, she'd been practicing disillusioning herself. In her later years, she'd had a few peeks at the books in the Malfoy library. She was hoping that she'd get another chance this weekend.
Tom was looking forward to being introduced to true pureblood society. She didn't know if he would like it or not. She was pretty sure he'd adapt to it like a baby duck taking to water…but would he like it? It was hard to say. She, on the other hand, knew the rules. It had taken some time, but eventually she'd been able to sift the chaff from the wheat on all those pureblood manners.
Two weeks before the event she took Tom to the kitchens, where the elves were waiting. Hermione had visited by herself but she finally showed him the secret door.
"You tickle a pear? Seriously? Sometimes the founders were ridiculous."
She gave him a grin. "Don't let the elves hear you say that. They are descended from the elves that served the original four and they are very proud of them."
"They like taking care of others?"
"Very much."
By that time the elves had seen them. "Miss! You is bringing the young Mister!" The tugged them to a table set in white. There were seven plates, three glasses, and even dozen pieces of cutlery.
"We're going to go over the finer points of pureblood manners. Eating is an art with these people."
Tom sighed, but he sat and gave the elves a charming smile. "Thank you so much for this! It is something I needed to learn."
The eldest elf squeaked, "We is happy to help little Miss teach the young master about the food rules!"
Hermione didn't sit. "If you are accompanying a lady, you always have to pull her chair. I have to assume that this came from ladies wearing clothing that was particularly restrictive, but there aren't a lot of books that described it."
Tom stood and pulled it and sat her fairly well. He was such a gifted boy. She smiled at him.
"What?"
"You really aren't bad at anything, you know?"
He cocked his head and smiled. "It's strange to hear that coming from you. It's like you already know everything."
Her smiled faded around the edges, but distraction came as the elves brought the soup. "Don't worry. It won't take you long to pick up the basics."
By Merlin…it didn't. It was shocking. He was so talented in so many areas, but his almost instinctive understanding for social cues was what set him apart. He picked up the bulk of the archaic manners in one meal. By the day of the party, he was ready to swim with the sharks.
Hermione smiled a little. She didn't mind putting a dragon among the thestrals. The purebloods were going to trip all over themselves to court Tom. She would be beside him, watching for those darker elements that would also be attracted to the boy. While he was working on his manners, she was going over hexes in her head. She doubted she'd get to use them…this time. But it was only a matter of time. She just hoped the next attack was something she could jinx.
AN: I think I'll be able to update again tomorrow sometime, but then next will be a bit hit or miss depending on what's going on. See you tomorrow!
