Moving right along ... Here is the next chapter. We are getting near the end of the year, soooooo ... I don't know, I imagine things will start happening. Climaxes and all of that. Not quite at that point yet. Getting there though, getting there.

Alas, I digress ... Moving on ... I hope you have enjoyed the quicker release of these last few posts. Oh yeah, and the actual posts themselves. Enjoy them too, if you'd like. Up to you. I won't judge.

- Chapter Twelve -

Weasleys' Wizard Wheezes

Hermione awoke the next morning groggy and exhausted, her ribs still tingling from Killian's tickling jinx the previous night. Her extracurricular activities were taking their toll, but she managed to convince herself that they were worth the deprivation that she was putting her body through.

Rolling out of bed, she got dressed, pulled her hair back, and gave herself a quick once-over in the mirror.

Dreadful, she thought.

A simple disarming charm. How could she have lost her focus? So much had happened over the last several weeks. Even more so over the previous two days. Still, it was no excuse for her lack of preparedness, her inability to center her concentration when most critical. This time is had been Killian using a jinx that resembled more of a prank than an attack. In another scenario it could be Hermione staring down the wand of an Unforgiving Curse.

She wanted another shot at him. Images of her mock duel with Killian played back in her mind.

Trying, with little success, to dismiss her displeasure with her performance, Hermione went about her morning. Breakfast, studying, Potions, Transfiguration, studying, library, studying. Regardless of what was transpiring within the school, there was no time to dwell on it. The students were expected to accept the abrupt transition from Professor Dumbledore to Professor Umbridge with an effortless and silent acceptance. While it was easier said than done, keeping busy helped ease numb the senses to a point and, at least in fleeting moments, forget what had transpired.

Hermione had not seen Killian all day. This came as no surprise, as their classes fell opposite each other on several days. She expected nothing different on this day.

While crossing the courtyard with Ron and Harry as the trio headed for lunch, Hermione was unexpectedly and incessantly pecked on the back of the neck by a paper hummingbird that flitted after her.

"Blasted little bugger," Ron said as Hermione watched the odd little bird.

The hummingbird hovered before Hermione at eye level before twisting, turning, and folding on itself, taking the form of a paper flower that floated in the breeze. Hermione reached out and gently took hold of it.

"Who's it from?" Harry asked her.

"Probably just a charm gone awry," she dismissed as she continued to walk along.

"Doesn't look like it went airy to me," Ron scoffed as he and Harry followed.

"The word is awry, Ron," Hermione corrected. "As in 'away from the correct course.' And if you don't believe that can happen at Hogwarts, you obviously haven't been paying attention for the last five years."

Harry offered a half-hearted laugh, clearly still grieving the loss of their Headmaster. "She's got you there, Ron."

"Just came right for you, is all," Ron huffed, kicking the ground as he walked. "That's all I'm saying."

"Oh, please," Hermione said, rolling her eyes in her best attempt to seem disinterested. "It's just a piece of paper."

"Why don't you toss it then?" Ron asked.

"Because," Hermione began to answer, but paused as she pondered a plausible explanation. "I like it," she said simply and put the paper flower behind her ear.

Neither Ron nor Harry seemed particularly convinced by Hermione's response, so she resorted to simply dropping the subject altogether. If they did not speak of it, she would not have to come up with any clever responses. Aside from that, she needed to watch herself. She was starting to lose track of the lies she was telling to cover for herself. That was an extra stress she simply did not wish to deal with.

Lunch at the Gryffindor table was filled with the bustle of hushed whispers about Weasleys' Wizard Wheezes opening shop that evening. Apparently, Fred and George had gone to great lengths to ensure they could distribute their merchandise without interference from Umbridge and the newly appointed Inquisitorial Squad. Barrier lines, passwords, and a certain unnamed lookout were only a few of the rumors being passed along. Any final arrangements, of course, were being withheld until the last minute for obvious security reasons.

"Nice flower, Hermione," Fred said as he sat at the table, accompanied by George and Lee Jordan.

Hermione pulled the flower out of her ear. She felt embarrassed, although was not exactly sure why. As she glanced at the intricate origami in her hand, she saw there was writing on one of the petals of the flower she had not noticed before.

Hope you're feeling all right

- K

He feels guilty, she thought as she massaged her ribs.

A part of her was flattered by his concern while another part was still angry he had not effectively challenged her the night before. She wanted him to attack her. She wanted him to hurt her. Was that odd? Her mind wrestled with the conflicting emotions as she pressed the flower between the pages of one of the many books she had stacked beside her at the table. Ron, witnessing her demeanor, simply shook his head in disgust and took an oversized bite of his plain cheese sandwich.

"So you're in for tonight then, right?" Lee asked Hermione.

"Big sale," Fred said.

"Fifty percent off for our preferred customers," George added.

"I've never been a customer," Hermione pointed out.

"True," George conceded.

"But we'd prefer you were," Fred added, proud of his wit as he and Lee gave each other high fives.

"Regardless," Hermione went on with a roll of her eyes. "I'd rather not put myself in a position to get expelled."

"Not to worry," Fred assured, leaning in and winking. "We've got that well covered, as you know."

Hermione shook her head with a roll of her eyes. Of course, she knew. And it was apparent to her that Fred and George were enjoying the fact they had an ally within the Inquisitorial Squad.

"How 'bout you, Harry?" Lee moved on.

"I don't know," Harry answered honestly. "Maybe I'll stop by."

"Extra special discounts for our primary investor," Fred offered.

Harry shrugged it off, smiling uncomfortably. Hermione knew that it was a touchy subject for Harry. He had given his winnings from the Triwizard Tournament to the Weasley twins to start up their joke shop enterprise. However, the cost of the winnings still haunted him.

Lunch continued on as usual. As everyone began to break away for the rest of the day, Hermione caught a quick glimpse of Killian as he headed in the opposite direction towards the dungeons. She smiled to herself as Fred and George bid her a unison farewell. They, along with Lee Jordan, were certain to skip their afternoon classes to prepare for the evening's events.

Boys, she thought with a sigh as she, Harry, and Ron headed off to class.

. . .

As evening fell across the landscape, Hermione found herself reading in the library. She had just received the last minute instructions to Weasleys' Wizard Wheezes via the special chocolate frog trading cards that were being distributed to invitees. Ron had helped himself to the frog, but she managed to pocket the card before it ended up in the Gryffindor fireplace with the discarded box.

Contemplating the ramifications, she tried to convince herself to stay in the library and continue her studying. OWLs were just around the corner and she had wasted so much time already. It was what she should do. It was what she needed to do. Or was it? What did she need? She argued with the voices in her head. Logic versus emotion. Everyone knows how that plays out. She needed to see him. She needed to get it off her chest.

She collected her books and made her way to the Gryffindor common room. She certainly was not going to drag everything with her. Sitting on the couch facing the hearth, she pulled out the card from her chocolate frog. It was an Alberic Grunnion. Nothing fancy.

She flipped the card over and pulled out her wand. "Aparecium."

Almost immediately, the hidden Weasley message appeared, written in poor penmanship across the back of the card. Simple instructions.

Go to the southeastern exit of the castle and wait for your escort. Gits and nutters beware!

Makes sense, Hermione thought. Southeastern exit. Follow that path and it will take you straight to the boathouse. That was where he would be.

Hermione took that deep breath that had become synonymous with her decisions to go against her better judgment as of late. She then made her way out of the Gryffindor common room and down towards the area indicated by the trading card.

When she reached the southeastern exit, she stopped and looked about. She was a bit surprised to find she was the only one there. She had anticipated there would be droves of students all pushing their way through to be the first in line to purchase one form of contraband or another. After a minute or so, she was ready to turn back and return to the dorms when she heard a scurrying sound outside on the walk. Squinting as she searched for the source of the noise, she saw Thomas bounding towards her.

"You're the escort?" Hermione asked as the wiry ferret twitched and spun about at her feet. "You are quite clever, aren't you?"

Thomas scurried back towards the direction from whence he came. Hermione, although feeling a bit odd following a ferret, did so at a brisk pace. For such a small creature, Thomas covered ground rather quickly. He led her around the side of castle towards the long set of stone steps that wound and turned down towards the boathouse off the Black Lake.

As she approached, Hermione saw Killian standing near the top of the steps talking with, of all people, Harry. She continued on, somewhat concerned as to what they could possibly be discussing. It did not take long for her presence to be noticed.

"Hey Hermione," Harry greeted warmly.

"Hi Harry," Hermione returned as Thomas scurried away to seek another student to escort. "What are you doing here?"

"Same as you, I suppose," Harry answered. "Checking out the grand reopening."

"Where's Ron?" Hermione asked.

"Reading, actually," Harry said. "Or trying to, at any rate. You know how he is with books and all that."

Hermione and Harry stood there for a moment, neither of them saying a word. Hermione's eyes danced about as she struggled to find a topic of conversation or some other means of lightening the air that seemed to be hanging heavy in that particular area of the castle.

"Well, listen," Harry finally said. "I'm going to head down. Good talking to you, Finn," he said as he offered his hand to Killian.

Killian smiled and gave Harry's hand a firm shake. "The same, Potter."

"See you down there?" Harry asked of Hermione.

"I'll be down in a moment," she answered.

Harry's eyes bounced between Hermione and Killian for a second before he nodded with a smile and made his way down the stone steps. To Hermione's surprise, once Harry reached the stone arch that covered the middle tier of the steps, he vanished.

"He Disapparated!" Hermione gasped. "That's impossible!"

"Entirely impossible," Killian agreed. "He didn't Disapparate. There's a barrier charm on archway," he explained. "You cannot see anything that's happening beyond the barrier and no sound escapes from within."

Disbelieving such a charm was possible, Hermione walked down towards the stone arch and cautiously leaned through. Once her head had crossed the barrier, she saw that the dock and boathouse were filled with students laughing and carrying on as they bought merchandise through Lee Jordan while watching Fred and George demonstrate some of their new items.

Thoroughly impressed, she pulled herself back beyond the archway and found it as though someone had simply turned off the sound. The dock and boathouse seemed deserted, and the only sound she heard was the familiar cackles of various nocturnal creatures in the surrounding area.

"This is quite ingenious," Hermione complimented.

"I'm afraid I cannot take credit," Killian admitted. "It was Fred and George's doing. They're much more skilled than they let on. And apparently they are looking to cause a bit of trouble. Not happy with the current administration as I understand," he added with a coy grin.

Killian leaned up against the stone railing that bordered the area surrounding the steps as Hermione made her way back up.

"So what were you and Harry talking about?" she asked, almost afraid to hear the answer.

Killian grinned, rubbing the back of his quill-scarred hand. "We were comparing penmanship."

It was stupid of her to ask. Of course he was not going to tell her what they were talking about. Especially not if he knew she wanted to know. Still, Hermione was not sure how comfortable she was with the conversation, whatever it was about. It seemed almost as though her two worlds were colliding. Fred, George, and Luna were one thing. With Harry, as well as Ron to a certain extent … Hermione preferred them to be separate.

"What brings you out this evening?" Killian asked. "I know you're not here to shop."

Hermione smiled as she leaned on the stone bannister beside Killian. "I got your flower."

"What flower?" Killian teased.

"Don't be an idiot," Hermione said. "It was very sweet."

"You came all the way down here to tell me that?" Killian asked, raising an eyebrow.

Hermione walked away from Killian, looking at the night sky, trying to find the right words. Although her back was to him, she knew he was staring at her quizzically. She could feel his eyes upon her, his stance displaying that familiar tilt of his head as he pondered her intentions.

"Is there something wrong?" he predictably asked.

She turned back, wringing her hands nervously. Killian stood there, waiting for some form of response. She had to pick the right words.

"I want …" she started before rethinking her verbiage.

"You want what?" Killian asked, awaiting Hermione's conclusion. "A book? A quiet place to be alone with your thoughts? The definition of mostly harmless? Incidentally, I've recently learned—"

"You," Hermione finally blurted.

Damn, she thought the instant the words escaped her lips. That came out entirely wrong and she knew it was about to be tossed back at her.

"You want me?" Killian laughed. "Well, that is quite flattering. But as you can see, I'm working."

At least he had turned it into a joke. It would have been terribly awkward if he had taken it any other way. Regardless, the tension had fallen away and Hermione, oddly enough, felt much more comfortable.

"Oh, shut up," she huffed as she walked back towards Killian. "I want another shot at you."

"Another shot at me?" Killian echoed, an uncharacteristic expression of confusion emerging in his face. "Is there some sort of title here that I'm unaware of?"

"I want to duel you," Hermione persisted. "A real duel. I want to see everything you have."

"Why?" Killian asked, more perplexed than before. "What purpose would it serve?"

Hermione advanced upon Killian, eyeing him with a sudden drive of adrenaline. What purpose would it serve? She did not have a good answer. She knew she wanted it. She needed to have it, to experience it, to prove it to herself.

"There are five Slytherins who will never forget the day they crossed you," she said, attempting to play on Killian's ego. "I want to know what that feels like."

"There were more than five," Killian began, indulging in Hermione's implied compliment, "as irrelevant as that is. Why in the world would you want to know what that feels like?" he continued, his tone deepening.

"I want to experience it," Hermione went on. "I want you to show me, to teach me."

"You already have a teacher," Killian pointed out. "A great one, as you've said."

"Harry is a great teacher," Hermione conceded. "But he can't teach me what you know, can he?"

The last point was much more a statement that a question. Killian looked as though he was going to respond, more than likely in a manner that Hermione wished to hear. However, as he opened his mouth to speak, his attention was suddenly drawn to the stone floor by Hermione's feet.

Looking down, Hermione saw Thomas scurrying about. Killian bent to his knee and picked Thomas up as the fidgety ferret clicked and squeaked.

"Malfoy and Umbridge are coming," Killian whispered to Hermione.

"You can understand him?" Hermione asked.

"No, Hermione," Killian answered with a drawling, sarcastic tone. "Thomas is a ferret. He cannot speak. I can, however, see quite well."

Spinning around, Hermione saw Draco and Professor Umbridge, decked in her bright pink knitted shawl, approaching. Under ordinary circumstances, the sight of Professor Umbridge had the effect of turning Hermione's stomach. Seeing Umbridge under the current circumstances, however, was much more like having her stomach ripped entirely from her abdomen.

Hermione turned back to Killian and saw he had his wand drawn and at the ready, pointed directly at her. Her mouth dropped open, her eyes widening with disheartening shock.

"Trust me," he said with a wink.

Hermione did not have time to decide one way or the other. Umbridge and Draco closed in quickly as thoughts echoed through her mind, her subconscious desperately attempting to convince her of something she doubted. He's not a Slytherin, he's not a Slytherin, he's not a Slytherin.

"There's one of them!" Draco announced, pointing at Hermione with his wand. "I told you I'd find them."

As they drew nearer, Hermione saw that Draco's face was singed and blackened, his eyebrows nearly seared off. She knew at once he must have confiscated one of the trading cards distributed by way of the chocolate frogs. She had assumed there was some form of jinx placed on the card to prevent any unwanted readers from procuring the message. Even caught within her current predicament, she could not help but smile with amusement.

"You'd find them? I don't believe you've found anything," Killian scoffed at Draco's liberties. "And what happened to your face?"

"Think it's funny, do you?" Draco snapped before Professor Umbridge raised her hand to silence him, her sickeningly sweet smile beaming across her face.

"And what, exactly," she asked in her petite voice, "do we have here, Mr. Finn?"

"I had heard rumors the Weasley twins were attempting to set up shop in the boathouse this evening," Killian explained, his wand still on Hermione. "I came down here to investigate on behalf of the Inquisitorial Squad," he added with mock nod.

"And?" Professor Umbridge pressed. "What did you find?"

"Nothing, I'm afraid," Killian answered. He gestured to the serene waters of the Black Lake and the seemingly deserted boathouse. "It appears the rumors were merely a clever ruse."

Professor Umbridge looked to be processing Killian's information as she glanced down at the boathouse with narrowing eyes. Hermione's nerves were racing. How could he be so calm? How could he be smiling?

"And who is this?" Professor Umbridge asked, looking Hermione up and down with her judging eyes and almost repugnantly pleasant mannerisms.

Hermione knew it was unlikely that Hogwarts' newly appointed Headmistress did not recognize her. Being that she and Professor Umbridge had crossed proverbial swords within the classroom on more than one occasion, it was also improbable the Ministry's representative had forgotten her name, as well. No, this was about power and control. She knew Hermione's name. The bitter, politically obedient woman simply would not give a Muggle-born such as Hermione the respect of speaking it.

"Hermione Granger," Draco said with disgust. "A Gryffindor."

"A Gryffindor?" Umbridge sang. "And why would a Gryffindor be out of the Gryffindor dormitory at this hour?"

"Studying," Killian said. "Needed to get some air, or so she says."

"And you believed her?" Umbridge asked, batting her eyes and smiling, her eyes still fixed on Hermione.

"No," Killian answered. "I believed she was looking for the Weasleys. But after interrogating her, even to the point of offering to reduce the amount of House points deducted, she remained true to her story. I was actually in the process of taking one hundred points from Gryffindor when you arrived."

"One hundred?" Hermione gasped as she spun around on Killian.

"It could have been fifty, if you had the information I was looking for," Killian reiterated, grinning broadly.

Hermione was furious. It took every bit of her resolve not to slap the smirk off Killian's face right then and there. He was playing the part, she understood that. She also knew very well that he was truly enjoying every moment of it.

"Do you have any information that would be of use?" Umbridge asked sweetly of Hermione. "I could still credit a portion of your penalty back to your House."

"I don't know anything about the Weasleys setting up anything," Hermione lied, and rather convincingly at that. "I went for a walk. I've been stressed about my OWLs and I needed to clear my head."

"Studying is important," Umbridge said condescendingly as she patted Hermione on the shoulder. "But rules are important as well. Mr. Finn," she directed towards Killian. "You've inspected the boathouse thoroughly?"

"Inside and out," Killian lied, equally as convincingly as Hermione. "Nothing is out of place."

"Still …" Umbridge pondered. "A second set of eyes wouldn't hurt. Mr. Malfoy—" she gestured to Draco—"go down and have a look. Every detail is important."

For the first time, Hermione saw a twinge of concern arise in Killian's eyes. Draco, eager to please, began bounding down the stone steps. As he approached the archway, Hermione thought she saw Killian's hand clench down on his wand.

"Professor Umbridge," came Professor McGonagall's voice as she and Professor Snape approached from the castle, much to the relief of Hermione.

Umbridge spun about, her smile unchanged as Draco paused just shy of the archway.

"Monitoring the grounds, I see," the grandmotherly headmistress went on. "A lovely night for it."

"Professor McGonagall," Umbridge sang. "And what can I do for you?"

Professor Snape appeared to be biting his tongue, the distaste for Umbridge that Killian spoke of disallowing the Potions master to even make eye contact with the woman. Hermione looked down, forcing back a smile as she mused, once again, over their common ground on the matter.

McGonagall glanced about the area, feigning interest. "Have we discovered anything?" she asked.

"As a matter of fact, Mr. Finn discovered rumors the Weasley twins were setting up shop in the boathouse," Umbridge explained.

"And?" McGonagall asked, looking down at the boathouse. "I see nothing at the boathouse. It appears that these rumors were a red herring of a sort, wouldn't you agree, Mr. Finn?"

"Yes, Professor," Killian answered, in an oddly respectful tone that Hermione did not recognize. "That was my conclusion, as well. However, Professor Umbridge thought it wise to double-check my assertions."

"I believe that we can all see from here that the boathouse is not playing host to a gaggle of students investing their coin in less than practical novelties," Snape spoke up with a tone of dismissive conclusion. "So, seeing as though that matter appears to be settled, I think that you can retire to your dorm, Mr. Malfoy. No need to waste any more time chasing shadows in the night."

Draco looked at the Head of Slytherin House with an expression of doubt, as if asking for reconsideration and permission to continue down to the boathouse. Snape, instead, gave a curt gesture with his head, indicating his statement was less an opinion and more a direct order. Scowling at Hermione, Draco made his way up the steps and headed back inside the castle.

"Out for a stroll, are we?" Snape asked of Hermione with narrowing eyes glancing back and forth between her and Killian.

"Mr. Finn caught this one out of dorms after hours," Umbridge explained proudly.

"I'm certain he did," Snape drawled. "Exemplary work."

Hermione could see the wheels turning in Snape's head. If he was anything, it surely was not stupid. Luckily, however, as with the last time she had been caught by their Potions master, Hermione had the luxury of being with Killian. Snape was not going to allow his House to be penalized, even if it meant allowing a Gryffindor to get away with lies.

"Well done, Mr. Finn," Professor McGonagall commended, her sarcasm as subtle as being struck in the face with an iron bludger. "I believe it is your duty as a member of the Inquisitorial Squad to escort Ms. Granger back to the Gryffindor tower to ensure she is not wandering the halls. Professor Umbridge?" she went on with feigned niceties that could not have been more ingenious. "I should actually like to have a word with you regarding a certain Educational Decree number 29 that has been proposed by Mr. Filtch."

"I would certainly enjoy entertaining such a conversation," Umbridge obliged.

Hermione could feel the contempt breeding between the two of them. It hung in the air so thick, one could almost reach out and feel it against their skin. Professor Snape glanced at Killian and gave him a sharp nod indicating that now was the time to leave. Without a word, Killian grabbed Hermione by the arm, which she did not appreciate at all, and led her back into the castle.

Once inside, Killian released his grip. Hermione immediately turned and slugged him in the shoulder with everything she could muster.

"One hundred points?" she shouted.

"I had to make it believable," Killian defended, smiling and rubbing his shoulder. "It worked out well enough."

"Easy for you to say," Hermione huffed. "So what happens with the boathouse? You're not there to watch. What happens if Professor Umbridge comes back?"

"I drew a barrier line around my post," Killian explained. "Once I crossed it, it sent a signal to Fred and George that something had gone wrong. At this point, I'm sure they've closed up shop and are just waiting for the area to clear before heading out. That one, incidentally," he added with a wink, "was my idea."

Hermione shook her head and rolled her eyes. The rest of the walk was simply idle banter, mostly involving Killian being struck for any number of smart remarks. As they reached the entrance to Gryffindor Tower, Hermione paused and looked, glancing between the floor tiles and Killian, shifting from one foot to the other with her arms folded to mask her sudden and inexplicable insecurity.

"I was serious, you know," she said.

"About what?" Killian asked, trying to avoid the inevitable conversation Hermione had begun by the steps to the boathouse.

"About the duel," she answered.

Killian looked at Hermione, quietly staring, his eyes flinching ever so slightly, unnoticeable had Hermione not been staring right back at him. It was as if he was trying to read her, trying to get inside her head. She would have looked away if not for the fact that she was trying to do the same.

"All right," he finally agreed. His tone seemed oddly regretful. This, however, was not going to dissuade Hermione.

"When?" she asked with a smile.

"I don't know?" Killian answered with a shrug.

"That's not a specific enough answer," Hermione argued.

"Technically," Killian corrected, "it was not a specific answer at all."

"All the more reason I don't like it," Hermione said, readjusting her folded arms and cocking her head.

Killian sighed, almost growling with a low rolling groan. He then began to run his forehead just above his eyes, taking several deep and contemplative breaths.

"All right," he finally agreed. "End of the week?"

"Evening?" Hermione asked, still looking for specifics Killian was reluctant to offer.

"Yes," Killian answered. "But late … After dinner. Wait until everyone has begun to settle in their common rooms. The less who are about, the better. We can meet outside near—"

"No, not outside," Hermione agreed. "Professor Umbridge and her Inquisitorial Squad will be paroling everywhere looking for excuses to take points from students."

Killian hesitated before responding. To Hermione's shock, his almost alarmingly admirable skill of masking his thoughts and emotions failed him entirely. It was beyond subtle, barely evident. It would not have been evident to anyone else. Hermione believed this without a doubt. But she could see it. It was in his stance, in his face, in his eyes.

Killian's suggestion to meet outside the castle was deliberate. He knew of the patrols by Professor Umbridge and her Inquisitorial Squad. After all, he was a member of her makeshift band of obedient followers himself, albeit reluctantly. He knew it likely he and Hermione would be caught if they attempted to leave the castle at night again. Now, more than ever, with the Fred and George having run their joke shop right under the new Headmaster's nose. And that is why he suggested the location. It was a purposeful plan, a sacrifice of getting caught to deter Hermione's desire for her rematch. She would not let that happen.

"And what do you suggest?" Killian finally asked.

"I know a place," Hermione answered, mimicking Killian's characteristically arrogant grin.

"Dare I ask?" Killian went on.

"Dare as you please," Hermione quipped, turning her nose in the air in playful jest. "I will let you know in time."

Killian laughed under his breath. Whether it was sincere or simply covering frustration, Hermione could not be certain. His seemingly growing desire to avoid another go with Hermione only further fueled her desire to do so.

"Don't even try to back out," she warned.

"I wouldn't dream of it," Killian promised as he presented Hermione with a noble bow. "Goodnight, Hermione Granger."

"Goodnight, Killian …"

Killian turned and left, leaving Hermione awaiting entrance before the painting of the Fat Lady. She remained there for a moment, pondering as a thousand thoughts poured through her mind all at once. The last twenty-four hours had been a nightmare of change. A new regime had taken over Hogwarts. Any harmony within the school hung precariously out of balance. In all of that, two of Hermione's world had possible collided that evening, a matter that could result in consequences Hermione not dare ponder at the moment. In all of that, however, there was a spark. A faint, yet somehow glimmering shadow of felicity.

"Evening Daffodils," she said.

The painting silently opened with a broad swing, allowing Hermione entrance to the Gryffindor tower before swinging closed behind her. She now had her second chance. She would sleep well that night.