Chapter 10- Year I- Synchronized Estrangement
"He's safe. Come to my office." Albus's voice lacked its usual chipper quality, which was worrying. He sounded tired. His phoenix Patronus was no less weak than usual, but its feathers seemed to droop and it didn't appear quite as energetic as she was used to.
Had he been up all night? It seemed absurd to mother a man who'd celebrated his centennial, but Hermione couldn't help it. It was a good sign, perhaps, that he didn't feel like he needed to cover up weaknesses with her. She wasn't sure what to think.
The grounds outside were bright and green, as seen from Hermione's perch in a window alcove on the sixth floor. If she searched she would probably find Hagrid toiling away somewhere. Hermione got up and walked toward Albus's office. She passed the occasional student, generally Ravenclaws since she was near their tower. She made eye contact with a few, but none so much as waved. This wasn't unusual in the slightest, so Hermione wasn't upset by it. She had far more important things to worry about than her lack of popularity.
It hadn't been that long ago since she'd last visited the Headmaster in his office. Only a few days, she thought. The password hadn't yet been changed from "Peppermint Toad". She could feel the stone eyes of the gargoyle's on her back as she trudged up the spiral staircase. She knocked on the door and didn't wait for an answer before opening it.
"Albus, what happened?" Hermione asked before even shutting the door.
His face reflected his tone from earlier, wrinkles appearing where Hermione hadn't noticed any before and his lips set so thin they looked like a wound. His nose seemed especially crooked. "Sit," he said, gesturing tiredly to the chair facing his desk. Hermione obeyed without question. It was several moments before Albus opened his mouth to speak again. "You were indeed correct. Voldemort's Death Eaters sought to capture or kill my brother. He did not, however, need my help, and he was very cross at me for interfering."
"Oh," said Hermione in a small voice. She was well aware that Aberforth and Albus didn't get along at all. "You fought. Is everything... Is everything all right?"
"We have been through far worse before." Albus folded his hands. His half-moon glasses clung to the very tip of his nose. "I would not be surprised to find that his ire does not limit itself to me."
Aberforth was angry with her. Of course, that was the risk she'd taken in getting Albus involved, but surely he understood that she was only worried for him? She needed to talk to him, get this mess sorted out. "I understand. Is he violent?" Hermione hoped not. She'd seen him angry before, but that was after years of war. Had he always been volatile?
"No, I don't believe he is, but perhaps he simply no longer has the strength to attempt to break my nose again."
"Is that all? You should get some rest." Hermione leaned forward and touched the old man's hand, trying to convey her sympathy through the contact.
Albus seemed to appreciate it, as the corners of his mouth turned up ever so slightly. "Good advice, and advice I will follow. I suggest you attend today's classes and go see Aberforth after supper."
"Goodbye, Albus," Hermione murmured, standing up to leave.
"Oh, and one more thing," Albus said abruptly. "Aberforth isn't the only friend you should reconcile with." She didn't have to look at him to know that he was smiling in that infuriatingly benign way.
The arsehole had been waiting to impart those bloody golden "words of wisdom". Without turning back, Hermione said, "I have it under control. Goodbye, Albus."
*|II8II|*
"The Dark Lord is making plans," said Mulciber conversationally through a mouthful of potatoes. His fork clinked against his plate, making Regulus wince. His manners were abhorrent.
Snape laughed, a sound which resembled a bark and lacked any mirth. "Tell me something new. When isn't he making plans?"
Mulciber scowled around his food. He swallowed, thankfully, before replying, "No, I mean real plans. Plans that affect us."
"How so?" Avery asked, leaning forward. His dirty blond hair fell over his face, so all Regulus could see was his twisted mouth and button nose. He didn't have to see the other boy's eyes to know that he was staring at Mulciber.
"I only know what my cousin told me," Mulciber said. He put another forkful of potatoes in his mouth and chewed, obviously trying to up the suspense. The boy had no idea how transparent he was. How pathetic.
"Get on with it," said Avery. "If you don't hurry up and tell us we'll have to deal with it as it happens."
"Well," Mulciber said, "you do remember that whole business with that Cup Granger stole from the Lestrange vault?"
"Of course we do, it was only a few weeks ago." Snape, as usual, didn't waste an opportunity to deride their obtuse classmate.
"Do you want me to tell you or not?" Mulciber snapped. Snape didn't reply, but Mulciber continued regardless. "That Cup was apparently important to the Dark Lord. He wants to find Granger and force her to give it back."
"It's more likely," Regulus spoke up, "that he wants to figure out how she took it. No one's ever stolen from Gringott's before, maybe he thinks she knows something new." It was just a Cup. If it were so important to him, why would he give it to Regulus's cousin? Everyone knew she was as unhinged as she was devoted, and her husband wasn't much better. Regulus wouldn't trust either one with so much as a self-watering potted plant.
Avery scooted even closer. "Maybe. So, sure, he wants to find the Mudblood. How does he plan on doing that? No one can come in or out of Hogwarts without the Headmaster knowing."
Snape shook his head. "Not exactly. It's just not safe."
"What?" Regulus blurted. This was new; what vital secret had Snape kept close to his chest?
"The Forbidden Forest. The wards don't encompass the whole thing, so if you walk far enough you could get out or come in," Snape said, as if it were obvious. To be fair, Regulus couldn't help but agree. How had it never occurred to Regulus before, in all the many afternoons spent daydreaming up ways to leave the castle? It made so much more sense for the Forest to be off-limits, too, if there was such a flaw in the wards.
Still, how could such a huge defect have been allowed to exist? In the thousands of years since Hogwarts was founded, why hadn't the wards been strengthened? "How hasn't that been remedied by now?" he asked.
Snape sighed. "There's no such thing as a perfect defense," he said. Quoting a textbook, probably, the prat. "In exchange for such strong wards, they had to leave a whole side open. That's not to say one can fly in, but if you're willing to travel at ground level through the Forbidden Forest, then you can conceivably come and go as you please. The Founders made the Forest so deadly by design. I don't believe anyone's ever successfully utilized the flaw, though."
"It is a bit daunting," said Avery, beginning to be distracted once again by his food.
"Just a bit," Regulus agreed snidely. Avery flashed him a grin. Was he only pretending to be stupid? That was a decidedly Slytherin thing to do, but Regulus liked to think that the five years they'd known each other would inform him of any hidden intelligence. He would have to think about that.
"I wonder," said Mulciber, an uncharacteristically sly leer twisting his features, "how we can use this." Mulciber, on the other hand, was undoubtedly dull, a Slytherin lacking in cunning but making up for it with ambition. His cruelty, disloyalty, and utter cowardice disqualified him from any other House, so he shared space with the snakes. Exchanging glances with Snape, it was clear that the other boy shared his disdain.
"You have an astoundingly short memory," Snape deadpanned. Regulus snickered at Mulciber's thoroughly affronted expression, but he felt his stomach begin to clench.
"What are you talking about, Snape?" Mulciber hissed, trying to appear menacing. It only made Regulus laugh harder.
"The Dark Lord," Snape prompted, somehow keeping his face completely straight.
"We can lead Him to Granger!" Mulciber said, sitting up straight. "If anyone could get through the Forbidden Forest, it would be Him. We must tell Him!"
Unease swam in the pit of Regulus's stomach, making him nauseous, but he couldn't come up with a reason to discourage that plan of action. Of course he'd seen where this was going, but he'd thought that Snape wouldn't guide Mulciber to the logical conclusion. As far as Regulus knew, Snape had nothing against Granger, at least not enough to wish her death. Regulus wanted her out of the picture, but not like that. Just imagining what the Dark Lord would do to her was enough to make his insides contract. However, he wasn't nearly fanatic enough to feel safe in expressing opinions like that. Any dissent voiced now would be seen as a betrayal to their Lord.
He was saved from having to say anything by the arrival of the post owls, likely bearing responses to letters sent that morning. There were far fewer than there were at breakfast. A dingy-looking barn owl landed in front of Regulus. He eyed the bird in distaste and edged his hand forward cautiously to untie the letter from its leg. The moment the tie was undone the owl took off, the letter not quite detached. It fell onto Regulus's (fortunately empty) plate. Ignoring Avery's nasally guffaws, Regulus unfolded the letter.
Black,
I have a favor to ask of you. Yes, I know you don't owe me anything. This isn't for my sake, it's for Sirius's.
Hermione Granger asked me to tell Sirius a lie about why she's avoiding us. The easiest way to do that, I think, is to make him think that she prefers the company of Slytherins. His prejudice is so strong that I'm positive that will work. All I'm asking from you- and anyone else you may choose to bring into this- is that if Sirius asks, tell him that Hermione spent hours of time in the Slytherin Common Room. She's given permission to add any details, even if they paint her in a bad light.
I hope you'll consider it. I don't have permission to tell you why it's necessary, but please believe me that this is important.
Regards,
Remus Lupin
This was a ready-made solution, fallen into his lap without even the slightest effort on his part. If what Lupin claimed was true, then Granger had signed a blank check to him. He had her bloody blessing to ruin her reputation so thoroughly that even Sirius would turn away in disgust.
Perhaps Lupin was lying. That was always a possibility; however, being a Gryffindor, Lupin was far more likely telling the truth. Still, Regulus resolved to send his own letter to Granger, confirming Lupin's words. He wouldn't want to meet the business end of her wand. Regulus wasn't the type to underestimate his opponent, and he knew too much about Granger's accomplishments to doubt for a second that if she wanted him dead that would be what happened. He could hope that her Gryffindor righteousness would prevent that if it really came down to it, but he preferred not to take the risk.
Regulus looked up to see all three of his companions observing him, clearly wondering about the letter. They knew by now what his mother's owl looked like, and Hogwarts owls were distinctive in their pathetic appearances. Should he show them? Permission to do so was explicitly included in the letter. He had little time to send a letter to Granger right then, and it would be more difficult to bring up should he wait. He trusted them- or rather, he trusted Snape- not to go barreling into this without first making a plan. Snape would certainly agree to help. He was willing to do anything that hurt Sirius.
"Snape," Regulus said, handing over the letter. Snape stretched out his deathly pale hand and took it, reading through it once quickly, and then again with more patience.
"Is it a setup?" Snape asked, still examining the bit of parchment.
Regulus shrugged. "It's possible. I plan to send her a letter."
Snape tapped the tabletop with his index finger, a slow smile spreading on his face. "I'm in," he declared, glancing over at the Gryffindor table. When Regulus followed his gaze, he saw Sirius making a general fool of himself with Potter. Snape couldn't stand to see them happy, that much was obvious.
"We'll come up with a plan later," Regulus suggested. He didn't have to indicate Mulciber and Avery for Snape to understand.
"Send the letter, then we'll talk." Still grinning in that manic way Regulus was familiar with, Snape got up and left the Great Hall. Regulus chuckled, amused as always by his dramatics.
"What was that about?" Mulciber asked, watching in disappointment as Regulus set the parchment on fire.
"You'll see," said Regulus, and spoke not another word for the rest of the meal.
*|II8II|*
Peaceful afternoons in the sixth year boys' dormitories were uncommon, to say the least, but this one seemed all set to break the trend. Sirius sulked up at the curtains of his four-poster. James was ignoring him because Sirius had switched the clothes in his drawer for Lily's and put James's clothes in Lily's room. His sense of humor when it came to Lily had completely left him, Sirius lamented. It wasn't even that serious of a prank!
Seeking entertainment, Sirius flopped out of bed and into Remus's, pretending to read Remus's book but really trying to block the other boy's view of it. Remus was wise to his tricks, and turned so that Sirius's head couldn't get between him and his book.
"Moony," Sirius whined, drawing out the vowels as long as he could with a single breath. "I'm bored." Peace? Quiet? Unacceptable! Something would have to be done, and it was up to Sirius to save the day. Not that he really had any ideas, but he was positive Remus would provide at least a momentary diversion.
Remus closed his book and sat up, looking right at Sirius, who drew back in confusion. "I know something you'll be interested in," he said.
"Get on with it, then!" Sirius cried, bouncing on the bed just to hear the mattress creak. Something in Remus's face told him that maybe he didn't really want to hear what Remus knew. Still, Sirius had never been one to ignore impulses and this one said that he just had to know. It was probably something sarcastic, knowing Remus. Sirius relaxed at the thought and felt his enthusiasm return in full.
"You sure?" Remus asked before shaking his head. "Never mind. Of course you are. Do you want blunt or sugar-coated? Never mind." He took a deep breath and said, very slowly, "All those times we couldn't find Granger on the Map, she was in the Slytherin Common Room. She separated herself from us because they poisoned her against other Gryffindors."
Sirius was silent for once in his life. Out of all his hypotheses, all of his theories, this had never even crossed his mind. "Who?" he breathed. A peculiar feeling was developing in his gut, like he was rotting from the inside out.
Somehow Remus understood his vague question. "Snape. And your brother. Mulciber and Avery... probably more, but those are all I know of."
"Snape? Snape? She chose Snivellus over us?" Rage boiled inside him, mixing with the festering of rejection in a way that was entirely unpleasant. And Regulus? She chose his little brother over him? That stung. "She's a Muggleborn, though. Why- why would they ever accept her?"
Remus looked down at his lap, refusing to look Sirius in the eye. Sirius's heart seemed to be shrinking. "I think you know why, Sirius."
He wanted to cry. Or scream. Or go find her and hex her until she told him everything. Remembering his fixation on her, Sirius felt such shame and pain and disgust that he had no doubt he could cast the Cruciatus on her. Or Snivellus. "How do you know?" Sirius asked, struggling to keep his voice even. He wouldn't waste any more feelings on the... the harlot.
Looking entirely unaffected, Remus said, "I saw her with the Slytherins on the Map a couple of weeks ago. I didn't want to tell you until I knew for sure. I confronted her about it this morning, and she admitted to it."
"Oh," Sirius said. "Thanks, Moony." He dragged himself onto his own bed and shut the curtains. Feeling tears beginning to prick at his eyes and clog his throat, Sirius flicked his wand and put up a Silencing charm. Satisfied that his best mates wouldn't know how upset he was, he lowered himself onto his pillow and curled in on himself. His body was leaden and trembling.
In the safety of his four-poster, Sirius allowed his face to crumble and the tears to fall in earnest. How could she do that? How could she be so unfeeling, so callous? They'd all dropped everything to include her, hadn't they? Apparently that meant nothing to her. How could she have been Sorted into Gryffindor? She didn't even have the courage to tell them herself.
She chose Regulus. Not him, Regulus. Similar in looks, in upbringing, in blood, in intelligence, but he was a follower and a budding Dark wizard. That was telling, wasn't it? She'd chosen two of the Darkest wizards currently in Hogwarts to consort with, so how could she be anything but a Dark witch? Maybe she wanted to make up for her blood status, to choose those who would hate her for it. Why associate those who would accept her if there was a challenge to be had? It made sense; he'd always seen ambition and competitiveness in her. Very Slytherin qualities to have, now that he thought about it.
What did it say about him, that he'd been so obsessed with her? Was he subconsciously attracted to women like that? Slytherins? It was positively Freudian, but faced with the evidence Sirius had to admit it, at least to himself. Hermione was a Slytherin dressed as a Gryffindor, and he'd been fooled by her masks. He wasn't sure who he hated more, her or himself.
His tears were long gone, but he lay there trembling until he finally fell asleep, missing dinner. He couldn't have cared less.
*|II8II|*
Remus contacted her a few days after Regulus did. She pieced together what exactly their story was, and despite herself was impressed. It was perfect, really, if she wanted Sirius to not only ignore her but also hate her. It would hurt him, she knew, but at the moment she had more important things to worry about.
For one thing, she had nowhere to sleep. The timing was all wrong. She was on bad terms with everyone who held even the smallest amount of affection for her. She couldn't sleep in her dormitory or the Common Room, obviously, and now she couldn't stay in the Hog's Head. She'd briefly entertained the idea of staying with the Slytherins, given the story Remus had fed Sirius, but without the protection of her magic she couldn't be sure she wouldn't be killed in her sleep. A Gryffindor in the Snake pit? Unthinkable.
She couldn't tell Albus, either, because she already knew that he disapproved of her absences from the castle. He approved of most of her decisions, if she were honest, and would be no help.
The Room of Requirement was an option, but she didn't trust herself to have free range of the Room in her sleep. When her rational mind was unable to intervene, she needed all sorts of things that ultimately would destroy herself or someone else. It wasn't so much that she was afraid of the Room as that she was afraid of herself.
In the end, she and Echo slept curled up on the cushioned window seats interspersed throughout the castle. She changed seats every night, not using the same alcove in the same week. Echo was an excellent source of heat, as always, though she couldn't protect Hermione from the chill originating inside her body. The phoenix responded to her companion's increasing despondency by growing more attached, apparently sensing Hermione's need for company.
Meals were touch and go. She wouldn't show her face in the Great Hall, both because she didn't want to see the way Sirius would look at her and because she wasn't sure she could give the impression necessary to give credence to her lie. Aberforth had ignored her entirely when she tried to go to the Hog's Head to apologize until she'd had enough and left. Sometimes, very late at night, Hermione would go to the Kitchens. If Sirius, James, or Peter saw her there it would invite far too many uncomfortable questions. Gradually the gnawing of hunger receded and Hermione was able to function without constantly thinking about it. She had already been used to eating infrequently, fortunately, which made the transition easier.
Technically, Hermione did attend her classes. She showed up early to turn in her homework and to ask about the work for that day. She met resistance at first, naturally, but she reasoned that she was unable to practice any spells regardless and she was already fulfilling the theoretical requirements.
The majority of her time was spent with Keane, researching until the effort of merely moving her eyes seemed too much. Keane always shooed her out after a few hours, explaining in that condescending way of his that the more time she spent there all at once the more tenuous her link to linear time became. Hermione agreed that that would be Bad. It wasn't that she would mind the passage of time stopping for her, although she did very much mind. It was more that she didn't want to become like Keane, bitter and distant.
Remembering her curiosity when Echo had first hatched, Hermione began teaching her to read again. She didn't know how to discern whether Echo actually understood, other than the intelligent gleam in her eyes and her timing in asking Hermione to turn the page. Often Hermione wished Echo could speak, but lately she was beginning to think that it wasn't necessary. They understood one another perfectly without the need for verbalization.
As stressful as her routine was, Hermione began to get used to it. She didn't think about Sirius all that much anymore. Sometimes she fancied herself more a ghost than a real person, and, oddly enough, it appealed to her.
It couldn't stay that way, she discovered.
Final exams had been over for two days. She didn't have to be around other people to know that they were all exhausted. No matter what Houses they were in, they alternated regularly between celebrating and sleeping. A mix of relief and fearful anticipation hovered in the air. The Hogwarts Express would be taking the students home early the next morning.
Hermione wasn't sure what time it was, but she was sure it was very late, given the pink and orange that began to spread across the sky. Now that the grounds were no longer pitch black, Hermione spotted movement on the edge of the Forbidden Forest. At first she dismissed it as a herd of centaurs coming unusually close to the castle. It was hard to see just what the figures looked like, but they seemed far too small to be centaurs. Some of them held balls of light in front of them, but they disappeared one by one. Without the glare of the light, Hermione could barely make them out if she squinted. Comprehension came slow, followed immediately by terror.
There was a massive army, all clad in black robes with white masks. The Death Eaters had invaded Hogwarts.