Year 5 Pt 2
"Miss Granger assures me that you are all here to learn Defense during your off hours because you are eager to improve yourselves. We shall see.
"Your past professors have taught you a motley collection of spells and characteristics of dark creatures. What none of them have bothered to teach you is actual defense.
"Identification is only the first step and often the least important in a fight. A werewolf will be less than impressed that it can be identified by the shape of its snout and infinitely more pleased that you have no way to repel it.
"Macmillan, tell me the ultimate goal of defense."
The Hufflepuff looked startled to be called upon, "Uh- to win?"
"That is exactly the sort of thinking that will get you killed." Professor Snape sneered, "The point of defense is to survive. This may involve fleeing. This may involve shielding. This may even involve winning if by winning you mean your opponent is incapacitated or dead."
. . . . . .
Draco sighed for the third time in as many minutes and Hermione put down her quill in a huff. They were seated in the Prefect hall, reviewing the latest educational decrees Professor Umbridge had dreamed up. The prefects were given the unenviable position of creating protocols to enforce these decrees.
At the moment, ever minute Hermione had to spend considering the best way to ensure that every boy and girl kept a minimum of eight inches apart was a minute she couldn't spend thinking about other, useful things. There were classes, homework, owls, defense club, and uselessly worrying about Millie and the other Slytherins who had decided to ignore her existence.
"Are you ok?" She finally demanded.
"Tired," Draco muttered and dropped his head into his hands to massage his eyes. His parchment, which was supposed to include a minimum of fifteen suggestions for confiscating unauthorized sweets was blank.
"Not sleeping well?" Hermione asked and Draco shrugged a shoulder noncommittally.
"It's just," He dropped his hands and Hermione was shocked at how haggard he looked. She'd been so caught up in her concerns, she had forgotten to check in on him. "There's a lot going on Hermione. Owls, Defense, Muggleborns, Quidditch. Family." His voice broke on the last one.
Hermione reached over and took his hand, giving it a friendly squeeze. "It's hard, I know."
"It's more than- I don't know what to do." He admitted, "Even if what Potter says wasn't true- My father wouldn't have approved of the club. But they're not bad people, Hermione. They're just kids. And what's going to happen when-"
He broke off with a wince as Hermione dug her nails into his arm. The Prefect room seemed secure- they were the only ones in this corner- but you couldn't trust Hogwarts not to listen into your conversation. Draco sighed and nodded at her irritated look and Hermione relaxed her grip. When Draco spoke again, his voice was quiet.
"Mother is suggesting I don't come home for Christmas." He muttered. "She's never not wanted me home before."
"I'm sure she's trying to keep you safe." Hermione said firmly, "There's probably more going on at the manor than she wants you to know."
At Draco's miserable nod, she added brightly, "You could come home with Theo and me. I'm sure Mum and Dad won't mind. We're going to go skiing- it's lovely."
"It sounds awful." Draco sniffed, "Worse than the televisy thing." But he gave her hand a grateful squeeze and returned her smile with a weaker one.
Hermione pulled his paper towards her, "You go rest. I'll finish this up. Just copy them in your handwriting before you turn it in."
. . . . . . .
"Aren't we supposed to bow?" Zacharias Smith said uncertainly, "My mother says you're supposed to bow before all duels."
"That, Mr. Smith, is because you are not dueling." Professor Snape swept over to the pair, "Do you think a vampire is going to follow the niceties of the dueling ring? Do you think a werewolf is going to hand you back your wand after he disarms you? Are you so stupid to believe that a Dark Wizard won't take advantage of your well-intentioned count off to kill you before you can defend yourself?
"Think! I am teaching you to defend yourselves. Not to duel! You can expect no mercy or compassion in a battle. Therefore you must not show it. Now begin, Mr. Smith."
. . . . . . .
"They say Harry Potter is starting his own defense group," Hannah whispered to her as they were patrolling on prefect duty. Ernie was in the hospital wing from a too vigorous fight with Anthony Goldstien who had transfigured his feet into glass and Hermione had insisted that Draco stay in the Slytherin dorms to get a good night's rest.
"Oh for the-" Hermione rolled her eyes and shone her wand down a dark corridor, "How do you know and who is joining?"
"Some Gryffindor's," Hannah admitted, "And a few younger years. Maybe one or two sixth years. I overheard Lavender discussing it with Weasley in the Great Hall. Apparently, he's going to teach them, since he's an expert on fighting dark magic."
Hermione had to press her lips together tightly to keep from saying some very unfortunate words. Finally, she sighed deeply and rubbed the bridge of her nose.
"Fine. That's fine." She decided, "The more power to them. Either Umbridge won't catch wind of this- which will be a miracle- and more people are trained. Or she will, and that will distract her away from us. But seriously- of all the stupid- people were talking about it in the Great Hall?"
Hannah nodded cheerfully and let Hermione stew in silence for several hallways before she spoke up again.
"Hermione, I was thinking of joining his group." Hannah said and Hermione whirled on her.
"Why? Is mine not good enough? Prefer to study with a Gyrffindor rather than a Slytherin?"
To her credit, Hannah remained unfazed, "No, I like your club and I like you. Professor Snape is a little terrifying, but I can already tell I'm getting stronger in my spell casting. What I'm thinking is that I could join his group as a spy."
"A spy?"
Hannah nodded happily. "Professor Snape always says that forewarned is forearmed and that the most important asset in any battle is information."
"Or effective communication, yes." Hermione agreed absently, "But what about the Cultural Exchange club?"
"Well, the semester is wrapping up." Hannah admitted, "And Draco's really taken over a lot of the teaching of the class. So between him and Susan." She shrugged a little helplessly.
"And this is something you really want to do?" Hermione asked and the Hufflepuff nodded again. "Well, I'm not going to stop you, but be careful Umbridge doesn't catch you."
. . . . . . . .
Why are you focused just on the other person Patil? You have an entire room full of objects to use, but you are wasting your energy and attention on Granger's shield. Charm the floor to ice. Animate one of the table to attack. Blast a gargoyle and make her defend against the falling block of stone.
Distract them and then while they are focused on righting themselves- attack. Well done.
. . . . . . .
"You're up to something."
Hermione glanced up to see Millicent looming menacingly over her study table at the library. Her 'study' group left very little time for actual study, but Hermione was determined to keep her grades up this year. Out of spite more than anything.
"I don't know what you're talking about Millie." Hermione said shortly. The first time in three months that Millicent deigned to speak to her and it was about this?
"Everything alright, Granger?" Two tables down McMillan glanced up from the knot of Hufflepuffs and shot a suspicious glare. Good for him. Hermione would have to mention his situational awareness to Snape that week. But she flashed the quick signal for 'all ok' and he settled back down to his own books.
Satisfying as knowing McMillan had her back, his question rather ruined all her attempts at pretending nothing was going on. Millie's glanced back at her, eyes narrowed in suspicion.
"It's the study group, isn't it?" She said. "You're doing something there. With Snape."
"Yes," Hermione snapped, "Studying."
But Millicent only shook her head. Whatever people might assume from the broad face and slow gait, Bulstrode was sharp. Sharp and observant.
"Daph and Pansy's spells are getting better." The girl insisted. "And the people in the club, they're walking differently- more observant. And show up at the Hospital Wing more often."
Interesting. Hermione schooled her expression into a mildly disdainful one and decided that they needed to include basic medi-mancy in their curriculum. The more they could heal in the club, the less obvious they'd be in the Hospital Wing.
"It's our OWL year," She said with a shrug, "Maybe they are applying themselves a bit more."
"With the study club." Millicent insisted. And when Hermione met her gaze blankly, added, "There's a lot of fifth years who aren't part of the club, Granger."
"There are." Hermione agreed.
"I'm not in it, Granger." Millicent continued.
"You're not." Hermione nodded.
"That doesn't seem fair," Millicent continued, a spot of color rising in her cheeks.
"No, it doesn't. Does it?" Hermione said and barely refrained from adding 'see how it is for Muggleborns?'
" Granger-"
"There are benefits to being my friend, Millie." Hermione said, "Maybe you and yours should consider that. Now, I have a charms essay to finish."
. . . . . . . .
"Escape is not dishonorable. Since you are not Gryffindors, I will not have to beat that into your thick skulls, but let me repeat: Escape is not dishonorable. If you are faced with an overwhelming foe and have the option to retreat, do so.
"A successful escape means you can relay important information to your greater forces, continue to learn and improve, and even return to fight again. In addition, your loved ones will be spared the delight of burying your corpse.
"There is no shame in admitting you cannot win."
. . . . . . . .
"Miss Granger, Mr. Nott, it is lovely to see you again."
Kings Crossing station was frigid in mid-December, but Madame Malfoy looked immaculate as always. It was DracDraco, pale faced and tight eyed, who followed in her wake that displayed the tension they must both feel.
"Madame Malfoy," Hermione bobbed a quick curtsey and Theo gave an abbreviated bow as custom dictated. "You're welcome to visit, you know."
The woman gave her a strained smile, "I'm afraid that won't be possible this year. But I expect to hear wonderful stories this summer from your adventures in the snow. Now-"
"Mother, I-" Draco began but his mother cut him off with a look.
"I expect you to be on your best behavior, Draco. Your Christmas presents have been shrunk and spelled not to enlarge until Christmas Eve. I'm afraid I won't be able to write but know that you are in my every thought."
"We'll take care of him, Madame Malfoy," Hermione promised and Lady Malfoy gave him a small smile. Then she pulled Draco down to kiss his forehead.
"I believe you, Ms. Granger." She said, "Now, I must return before I am missed."
Hermione took Draco's hand as his mother disappeared.
. . . . . . . .
It was not an exciting Christmas, but Hermione would treasure the memories for a long time after.
. . . . . . . .
They returned to chaos. In the wake of the largest Azkaban breakout in recorded history, the tension at the school reached a fever pitch. The students were forbidden from any mention of the Dark Lord and were told, repeatedly, by Professor Umbridge that Sirius Black was behind the entire escape, which suited Hermione just fine.
Less fine was Draco's expression when he found out that his aunt, Bellatrix Lestrange, was one of the escapees.
. . . . . .
"You have returned from the Holidays and I can already see you have forgotten most of what I tried to drum into you last year. Well, let us see what we can salvage.
"When you fight, your opponents may either be unknown or known quantities. Known is always preferable- no matter how strong they supposedly are. Despite every best effort, in times of crisis, you will fall back on favorite and familiar spells. If you are good enough, these will become your unique marker.
"If you know your opponents' preferences, you have an invaluable tool over them. To relate this to recent events, Antonin Dolhov considers himself a connoisseur of strange and arcane magic. His spells are difficult to guess and more difficult to remove. Against him, the best bet is to never be hit.
"Wands out. Today we will be practicing dodging."
. . . . . .
"Well, Granger, bet you're pretty scared about the news." Sally Montague stepped in front of Hermione and blocked her path to the fifth year dorm. The first Study club of the semester had just wrapped up, so Hermione was already sore, exhausted and severely out of patience.
"The news?" Hermione repeated. The common room was full of her housemates but eerily silent as every other conversation ceased and their participant's attention turned to her. An audience then. Hermione shook off her exhaustion and drew herself into her best posture. "I assume you're discussing the recent break out from Azkaban?"
"Naturally," The older girl sneered, "I bet you're terrified. I bet you're quaking in you-"
"On the contrary," Hermione interrupted, "I'm quite pleased for them."
The silence was deafening. Behind her, Pansy muffled a gasp and Daphne didn't bother quieting the jangle of her bracelets as she turned to her friend. Hermione was pleased with the result. Adopting a casual stance she continued.
"I've reviewed the court cases from the end of the last war. None of the prisoners had a fair trial- some were sent to Azkaban without any trial at all! They have been imprisoned illegally and held in torturous conditions for the past fourteen years and all formal requests for a retrial," She nodded to Violet Rosier who had been attempting through very legal means to find the condition of her father for years, "Have been in vain. Escape is the logical conclusion."
"But they-" Arthur Royal, a half-blood third year started, "They killed people." People like you, remained unsaid.
"They did." Hermione agreed, "And therefore it should not be difficult to give them a fair trial according to the laws of the Wizarding world. But-"
Part of her hesitated. She could leave it at this. Her stance had assured her that no one would bother her, that she wouldn't have to watch for curses in a dark hallway, that she wouldn't be targeted for bullying or worse. She had played the game well enough to be safe.
But- these were the next generation the Dark Lord would draw on. His foot soldiers would come from her schoolmates and his toxic philosophy would fill their ears. The ministry was ineffective and corrupt. Dumbledore's faction had no interest in their House. With no other option, they would turn to the Dark Lord as their savior and a cornered rat fights the hardest.
But- if she could offer another option. Keep them from falling into the idea of black and white-
"But-" She repeated and the rustle of whispers died down, "They were fighting for something they believed in. They were just doing it badly."
"What!" Bastion Rookwood shot to his feet, "What did you say, you-"
"Badly," Hermione interrupted and swung around to face down the older boy, "What positive changes has the Dark Lord's regime created Bastion? Slytherin is vilified. Hundreds of purebloods were killed and dozens imprisoned. Three old family lines have died out. The ministry has banned one hundred and seventy three more spells, rituals, and potions in the past fifteen years- What has he done for you!"
Hermione stepped back and slowly holstered her wand. She hadn't meant to yell, but the common room now smelled like the air before a storm.
"There are other ways." She said quietly. "Ways that will actually save this world."
. . . . . . . .
"Intention is key. If you find you cannot escape, you must set your entire mind to winning. There can be no possibility of losing if you are to survive. Imagine what winning will look like. Picture it clearly in your mind. Hold that image in your mind and don't deviate until you've reached it.
. . . . . . . . .
"Professor Snape? You wanted to see me?" Hermione stepped into the potions classroom and stopped short at the sight of the other occupant. "Potter? What are you doing here?"
For his part, Potter seemed equally surprised to see her. "Who are- Wait. You're Malfoy and Nott's friend, aren't you?"
"Yes," Hermione snapped, "I even have a name." She bristled at the thought of being denigrated to the position of 'friend' of anyone. If anything, Theo and Draco were her friends.
When Potter didn't even bother looking apologetic- honestly, he was looking pretty terrible to begin with- Hermione crossed her arms over her chest and leaned back against one of the potion desks.
"Honestly, Potter. We've been in the same year for the past five years. We've had- oh, about eleven classes together even. And you don't even know my name. You really are frightfully dense, aren't you?"
"Exactly my conclusion," Professor Snape drawled, sweeping out of his office in a swirl of black cloak, "Which makes it even more unfortunate that the task of training you to defend your mind falls to me."
Potter, denseness aside, at least didn't look as confused as Hermione felt at this cryptic statement as he turned on the Potions Professor.
"What is she doing here?" He demanded, finger outstretched towards Hermione. "I thought Professor Dumbledore instructed you to teach-"
"Ms. Granger's presence," Professor Snape sneered, putting special emphasis on the syllables of Hermione's name, "is one of the conditions for my tutelage. Or do you really think that yours is the only mind that needs to be guarded from the Dark Lord, Mr. Potter?"
. . . . . .
"Granger! Wait up."
Hermione almost didn't pause at the call. She was already nursing a headache from their hour lesson in occulumency and was itching to down a potion and head to the library to begin collecting more information on the art. If this skill was as powerful as Snape said, there were so many people who needed to start practicing: Draco, Theo, Tracy-
"What do you want, Potter." She turned around as the Gryffindor ran up behind her.
"What did Snape mean? Why do you need to defend your mind?" He asked, panting a little from his quick jog. Hermione, frankly, had no idea. She had planned to investigate that thought in the privacy of her own mind later that night, but wasn't about to look the gift hippogriff in the mouth. Not that she'd ever say that to Potter.
"You really are dense, Potter." She said with a shrug and was satisfied to see the boy's face color.
"I'm not." He insisted, "Just 'cause I can't tell Slytherin's apart! It's not like you know anyone in Gryffindor?"
Hermione raised her eyebrows, suddenly very pleased to play this game, "Really? You mean like Neville Longbottom, heir to the Longbottom name whose parents died in the past war and is constantly reminded of the fact by being forced to use his father's wand?
"Or maybe you mean Dean Thomas, whose mother was abandoned before he was born. There's some rumors going around that his father is none other than Phillip Landerer- whose a known seducer of Muggle women and has fled the country. But Thomas refuses to take the paternity potions and lay the rumor to res.
"Or perhaps," She stepped forward, pleased at how pale Potter had become, "You would like to talk about Ronald Billius Weasley. Your best and arguably only friend. Who abandoned you last year over his jealousy of your fame until you saved him from the lake. And whose father is now at St. Mungos's out of critical condition."
"How do-" Potter stammered, "How do you know that."
Anthony Goldstien hadn't received acceptable exam results on his last Transfiguration test so his father had sent him to help re-organize the potion supply cupboards at St. Mungo's during his Christmas break so the Ravenclaw had been on the scene when Arthur Weasley had been rushed in and privy to the resulting gossip about the wound. Anthony had told Padma who had told Susan who had told both Draco and Hannah who had both told her and soon after news had gotten around the Slytherin common room and it became a Thing because the Dark Lord was notorious for assassinations via snake bite and if he was targeting Purebloods- even blood traitors- well, what did that mean for everyone else?
Not that Hermione was going to explain all that to Potter though.
"People are important, Potter." She said, "Knowing about them matters."
. . . . . . . .
Later that night, HLater that night, Hermione lay in bed and wondered at her statement. Would she have realized the importance of other people if she hadn't been a Slytherin? Or would she have spent her whole life hiding behind books and intellect, without friends, without support, because she had never been forced to interact with them. Would she have turned out like Potter- barely cognizant of anyone outside her house and year?
. . . . . . .
The year worsened as it progressed. Every week saw more Educational Decrees and Professor Umbridge's presence seemed to penetrate even deeper into the school system. The Professors seemed to have collectively decided to ignore their Ministry Overlord by piling the fifth years with even more homework in preparation for their OWLS.
The Study Club became both a welcome distraction from studying and an exhausting addition to her already full schedule. The Occulumency classes a necessary but draining addition as well. More though, her interest in her class studies waned as she reached more and more for the recent histories and critiques of the Magical World. Was their world actually dying? Was there a way to save it?
Her grades slipped from O's to E's and Hermione found she couldn't care.
. . . . . . . .
"Inquisitional Squad?" Draco looked up from his Potions essay to see the sheet that Crabbe handed him. Hermione, also pleased to be distracted from listing out again what the different quantities of powdered wolfs bane did, looked up as well. "What is this?"
"Umbridge wants it." Crabbe said, looking pleased with himself for noticing something Draco hadn't. Granted, it didn't happen often, so the larger fifth year had every right to be pleased.
Draco took one more look at the sheet and then shook his head. He threw the paper down on the table and turned back to his homework.
"I can't," He said, "I just- between Quidditch and Prefect and Owls and the Clubs-" He trailed off and shook his head again. Hermione didn't blame him. Draco had a lot on his plate: the visible clubs and requirements and then, unspoken, the stress at home. His Aunt had apparently moved in with her sister and Narcissa's letters hinted at other, less welcome guests, also taking advantage of the Malfoy guest rooms and wards.
Hermione picked up the paper and frowned. An Inquisitional Squad. A group entirely loyal to Umbridge with extrajudicial powers. It would be stupid to join and risk the ire of the school as you became the public face of Umbridge's plans. It would be stupid not to join and risk being kept from interesting and important information.
"Vincent, what if you and Greg joined?" She asked and the larger boy perked up. This year, with Draco so busy with his extra work, the two cousins had been rather adrift. They'd studiously worked their way through the review lessons Hermione had set for them and had never missed a Study Club session, but they seemed lost. Maybe this would give them a sense of purpose.
Vincent looked at Draco hopefully who narrowed his eyes at Hermione and the shrugged.
"Sure," he said, "Have fun. Don't target any of my Muggleborns."
Hermione smiled at him and then leaned forward to pat Crabbe's hand. "And let us know if anything interesting happens with the squad, ok?"
. . . . . . . . .
The small investment paid off in less than two weeks.
. . . . . . . . .
"Granger," Crabbe sat down next to her in Charms. "Umbridge thinks that there are clubs going on under her nose. Clubs she hasn't approved."
Hermione's blood ran cold, but she disguised the alarm under re-arranging her review notes. It was fine. Umbridge had approved their club, even if she hadn't approved their actives. The charms she'd placed on all the participants held. She'd know if someone spoke about it.
"Thank you, Vincent." She said and gave him a quick smile, "We'll be careful."
. . . . . . .
"Granger." Professor Snape looked up from grading fourth year essays with a pensive look, "Professor Umbridge has requested my store of Veritiserum for Ministry Business."
Hermione stilled in preparing the Mugwort for tomorrows class. She had taken to arriving an hour early to the Occulumency lessons and helping Professor Snape prepare ingredients or correct first year papers as his free time was greatly constrained by the teaching the study club and dealing with Potter.
"She's looking for unauthorized clubs." Hermione said. This revelation panicked her less than Crabbes. "She'll probably start dosing random students, in our year." Snape may already know about Harry's attempt at a club from either gossip or Harry's own memories, but she wasn't going to toss the Gryffindor to the wolves. Yet.
For a moment, the two were silent except for the chop of Hermione's knife. Then she asked,
"Sir, are there any charms that can combat Veritiserum?"
The secrecy charms that were set by the signing of each person's name on her two sheets of paper would keep them anyone from willingly talking about the club. If they brought it up to an outsider, they'd be overcome with a babbling curse as well as intense nausea. But those spells could be broken under veritserum.
"Potions are not as easily broken as spells," Professor Snape admitted. "A skilled occulumens could work around the wording of the questions- giving half-truths and implications. And there are- deeper- magics that can prevent betrayal." The man's fingers unconsciously rested on his left forearm and Hermione bit back a shiver. The Dark Mark. She'd heard of it, seen pictures of it, and knew that it was burned into the soul as much as the skin. Soul Marks were said to have other properties- communication, loyalty, even- according to some texts- the transfer of magic between holders. It was a forbidden subject though.
Hermione sighed. If only magic was as useful as it first appeared.
"Don't worry, Sir." She said, resuming her chopping. "I have a plan."
"Very good, Ms. Granger."
. . . . . . . .
"Hannah," Hermione pulled the Hufflepuff into an abandoned classroom, "I have a favor to ask of you. It will be difficult, but I need your help."
. . . . . . . .
Umbridge, and the Inquisition squad, raided Potter's club. Most of the members fled with the Inquisition in lax pursuit.
Hermione had considered that to be the end of the situation: Umbridge suspected a secret club, so Umbridge had found a secret club. Everything could go back to normal.
Hermione had been wrong.
. . . . . . . .
"Hannah, this isn't your fault."
The Hufflepuff was crying again in the wake of Dumbledore's flight. Hermione patted her awkwardly on the back and sighed.
"Hannah, please. No one was supposed to get in trouble. The Inquisition Squad were told they had to let everyone escape." Not that Crabbe had been pleased with the suggestion, but he had agreed and even hexed Warrington who had been a little too eager to grab the younger Ravenclaw.
Hannah just clung to her tighter. "But without Dumbledore- who- who- who's going to protect us?"
"Hannah, do you really think you can't protect yourself? Or that you're alone?" When the girl looked up, Hermione smoothed down her hair, "Hannah. You protected everyone in our club. You're a hero."
"R-really?" the girl sniffed, but at least she had stopped crying.
"Really." Hermione insisted. "And Sna- well, we take care of our own. Ok?"
. . . . . . .
Per her request, Professor Snape was late to their next occulumency lesson.
"Granger- what the-"
"Poor form. No awareness. Shoddy defense skills. What were you even thinking, Potter!" She shouted as she threw his wand across the room. It was disappointly easy to disarm him. "I knew you were dumb, but I didn't suspect you were this brain dead. How you survived these past four years, I'll never know."
"Luck, mostly." Harry answered- proving his accurate sorting into Gryffindor. "What is this about?"
"A list of everyone's names, Potter? Labled Dumbeldore's Army?" Hermione fumed. "You couldn't have provoked the Minister's fears better if you had tried! Now that- woman- is in charge with no checks or balances- all because you don't have two brain cells to rub together."
Finally, the boy looked abashed.
"He left to protect me," Potter whispered, "We weren't an army. It was just a joke."
"Well, I hope you are laughing now." Hermione snapped, but lowered her wand from his throat, "Because you nearly ruined everything.
. . . . . . . .
Life had been bad under when Umbridge was the High Inquisitor. When she became Headmistress, it became worse.
Pranks abounded, chaos reigned, and Slytherins, regardless of whether they wore the silver "I" on their robes or not, were targeted as being supporters of the ministry regime.
Hermione would have laughed, but two third year Snakes had come to her begging for her help in turning their skin back to normal.
. . . . . . .
"Have you considered your future after Hogwarts, Ms. Granger?" Professor Snape asked her as she took a seat in his office. Career consultations in Slytherin were conducted for the ritual rather than the information. Most of her classmates would never have to work a day in their lives if they didn't want to. Daphne might ramble about becoming a healer and Draco might look up Professional Quidditch statistics, but neither of them would be forced to consider those by necessity.
"I have a list of Apprenticeships to apply to after my OWLS," Hermione said promptly. "There are a few on the continent that look promising."
The potions Professor was silent for a moment as he considered her, "Ms. Granger, while I have no doubt that between your grades and connections, you will find a suitable apprenticeship, I wonder if you have considered anything beyond your next three years. Politics perhaps."
"There has never been a –"
"Ms. Granger," Professor Snape interrupted, "There may well be a new system of government in place by the time you consider that your career. It may behoove you to . . . remain visible over these next few years."
Hermione pressed her lips together, but nodded. "I'll consider it."
"In that case, may I suggest a supplemental reading list?" Professor Snape rose and took two books off his shelf, "Be ready to discuss these after your owls."
. . . . . . . .
The march of time gave no regard to her personal struggles. The OWLS first loomed, then approached, and finally arrived.
Hermione finished them almost as an afterthought. The essay portions were obvious and the practical's were simple. Daphne might wail about forgetting the exact wording of Gramp's Laws, but Hermione didn't have the energy to rehash the tests with her class mates.
Naturally, it took less than a week for Hermione to realize she should have cherished the simplicity of post-test normalcy.
. . . .. . . . . . .
"I'm telling you- Voldemort has Sirius Black in the department of mysteries! Why aren't you doing anything?"
"Because it sounds like a trap Potter!" Hermione snapped as the Gryffindor paced the Potions room.
She had been discussing the nature of group magic with Professor Snape when Potter flew into the potions room in a panic, shouting about visions and Dark Lords and his godfather. From their occulumency lessons, Hermione had gathered that Potter shared some connection with the Dark Lord, no doubt from the trauma of his childhood, but she had only learned that this connection allowed Potter to spy on the Dark Lord in his dreams today. No wonder Snape had been instructed to teach him occulumency.
"Indeed it does," Professor Snape agreed, "Describe the room again, Potter."
Potter gave a garbled description of rows upon rows of shelves holding glowing orbs. As he spoke, Snape's frown grew darker.
"The Prophecy room." He muttered to himself. "Of course, he would want to lure Potter there."
"Why is that sir?" Hermione asked.
"The Ministry stores all official prophecies in the Department of Mysteries." Snape replied, "But they can only be accessed and understood by the participants. If I were to pick up a prophecy about you, Ms. Granger, all I would hear was gibberish."
"So there's a prophecy about Potter?" Hermione asked, "That the Dark Lord wants?" Harry stopped his pacing to watch as Professor Snape hesitated and then nodded.
"Yes."
"Why?" Harry demanded.
"Because it probably involves him too." Hermione frowned when Snape nodded again, "Why doesn't he get it himself - it would reveal his presence too early." Hermione answered her own question.
For the third time, Snape nodded. "Three points to Slytherin."
"But- Sirius-"
"How do you know he's really there? The Dark Lord could make you see anything he wanted." Hermione snapped, jumping off her desk to begin pacing herself. "What if Potter didn't go?"
"There would be other ways to acquire the prophecy," Snape said.
"But he's there- or at least, his associates are already there." Hermione continued, "What if we told the Ministry? They could be arrested."
"If they are already in the Ministry, then the ministry is either too incompetent or too corrupt to be of assistance," Snape's eyes gleamed as if he was laying out a particularly challenging riddle for her to solve. Hermione tapped her fingers on her arms.
"We could take the Study club." She said finally, ignoring Harry's look of incomprehension.
"As skilled as some of you are, you are not ready to fight well trained wizards and witches." Snape shook his head. Hermione sighed but had to admit that he was right. "Plus, even if you did capture them, where would they go? Azkaban is no longer secure."
"Then duel to kill." Hermione said, "Or- failing that. Snap the wands. Dose them with the draught of living death. Lock them in a secure room until a more permanent solution is reached."
"Kill-"Harry sputtered. "What are you-"
"There is going to be a war Potter." Hermione snapped, "Another one. You're not going to survive by relying on non-lethal spells."
"But-"
"What do you suggest we do, sir." She asked, "If we can't rely on the ministry and we can't rely on ourselves. Do we just let them wait there until they get bored?"
"Not quite Ms. Granger."
. . . . . . . .
Death Eaters found in the Department of Mysteries
Vigilante Group, Order of the Phoenix, Infiltrates the Ministry
. . . . . . . .
"I'm sorry about your Aunt." Hermione told Draco as she set down the paper. The boy shrugged as he buttered his toast.
"I never got a chance to meet her." He said. "I'm just glad that. . . she's who was caught."
A mysterious vigilante group appeared in the Ministry the previous night and engaged in a fire fight with a pack of Death Eaters. Though several Death Eaters escaped, many were captured by the mysterious group and were now sentenced to be kissed by the Dementors, including the infamous Bellatrix Lestrange.
Also on the list were other, familiar names: Flint, Crabbe, Bulstrode. Millie had read the paper and promptly departed from the Great Hall with a white face.
Arguments had broken out throughout the school about whether the Dark Lord had really returned, as Potter insisted, or if the Death Eaters were a rouge group acting without a leader. Whether the ministry was too harsh in their sentencing of the Death Eaters or wouldn't go through with their threats.
Hermione hoped they didn't personally. It would set an unfortunate precedent for the future trials.
. . . . . . .
"Granger?" Potter caught up with her as she walked to the green houses, "Do you think there's really going to be a war?"
"It depends." Hermione cast a mild privacy shield. "Based on the last war, I think it is inevitable. I'd like to limit the casualties though."
Potter nodded seriously and then looked a little sad. "I spoke to Dumbledore. Apparently there is a prophecy about me. I'm the only one who can kill Voldemort."
"So?" Hermione asked and Potter blanched. "Voldemort is the least of the problems."
"But-"
"The magical world is dying, Potter." Hermione sighed, "The Death Eaters are a symptom, not the cause. Remove them and nothing really- the anger and fear is still there. We need to treat the symptoms and the heart of the problem."
"Like with your Muggleborn club? And the cultural club last year?"
Hermione considered Potter with narrowed eyes. "You're learning, Potter. There might be hope for you yet."
. . . . . . . .
"Owls aren't enough." Hermione told her friends in the train, handing her last armlet to Crabbe. "I want you to have these. They are protean charmed so writing on one will appear on another one. Just write the initials of the person you want to reach and then your message. They'll grow warm if you get a message."
Daphne turned it over in her hands, "They're not very stylish."
"They're a prototype," Hermione rolled her eyes, "There's other spells I want to add eventually- tracking charms, health monitoring charms. But right now, I want a way for us to communicate before the training camp."
The study group had decided with near unanimous agreement to meet for a few weeks during their summer break to continue their training. Daphne had volunteered one of the more isolated Greengrass holdings and others had quickly volunteered expanding tents or other magical accommodation. They had also agreed to expand the club to include a few more choice members.
"They're brilliant." Theo said quickly, fitting it over his arm. It shrunk until it was secure around his wrist. The others followed suit. "I wonder if you could add a shielding charm to them. Like magical armor?"
"I think I was reading about a way to stack charms," Pansy said, "Morag found a reference in an old book. I'll talk to her about building up the protections on these."
"Oh, speaking of protections," Daphne turned to Hermione, "I spoke to Mumsie and she agreed to show you where the ward stones are on the property so you can key them to you for the summer. That should ensure there are no unwanted appearances."
"Good." Tracy nodded, "I've been working on a list of spells we need to learn, and it's better if people don't know about some of them."
Hermione leaned back in her seat, letting the conversation pass around her. No matter what happened, if they all stuck together, everything would be alright.
A/N: And here I'm afraid I have to pause this story for a little. The plot has deviated too far from the original books and requires me to devise my own structure now. Also, the story has become complex enough that it needs longer, more thoughtful chapters. So please consider this as a rough draft for a future, longer story.
Thank you all so much for your follows, favs, and reviews. If you have any ideas of what you'd like to see in future chapters, let me know. Bouncing ideas off people builds a lot of creativity for me!