AN: I'd like to thank everyone for their patience with dealing with my update schedule. I know I'm dropping off a bit, but what with the bloody degree and everything I can't cater to the story as much as I would like.
It had been almost a week since Hermione's crash, and she had recovered from injuries that would kill a normal human being. She refused to use the term Muggle as a matter of principle; it was wrong, she reasoned, to denigrate a society that outnumbered your own by a good few orders of magnitude and possessed the means to destroy you with a snap of the fingers. Mudblood was worse; it felt disgusting in her mouth, like someone had pushed her into the peat bogs out the back.
As such, she did her best to ignore it every time the Slytherins muttered it at her. Or stole her books and coated their covers in the word. Or hurled it at her from a dark corridor along with some Dungbombs and ink pellets. At least she had mastered Scourgify quickly. She had to; it was either that or firing jinxes into the corridor with gay abandon. And that might hit someone innocent, or lose her House Points or something.
It was with a heavy heart that she trudged into her Defence against the Dark Arts lesson with the selfsame Slytherins. As usual, she sat with Ron and Harry in the far corner out of projectile reach. Professor Quirrell, a man who managed to make Neville Longbottom look composed, stepped forward.
"R-r-r-right then, c-class, s-settle down now. T-today we will b-b-be eschewing the usual b-books and exerc-s-s-cises for p-p-p-practical th-theory. Why is th-this imp-p-portant?"
Ron's hand beat Hermione to the punch, something that shocked her.
"M-mister Weasley?"
Ron's hand gripped the desk top a little harder than normal. "Because it's one thing knowing a lot of spells, Professor, but another to use them efficiently. You have to be strategic and swift and smart."
"P-p-p-perfect answer, young w-wizard! T-ten points t-to G-g-g-Gryffindor!" Ron looked at his feet and sank into his chair a little further as the Professor launched into an explanation of the Stunning and Reviving Charm that coated much of the floor in unnecessary spittle. Hermione was completely bemused by her neighbour's answer – it had been better than the one from the book. That was an alien concept for her, though Mister Eli had tried to get that out of her with applications of logic.
"Where did all that come from, Ron?"
"Wizard chess manual. I play it a lot... not really very good at it but the guys down at the village club where I come from say I'm getting better."
"L-l-l-let's get y-you on y-y-your feet, then, c-c-c-class! P-pair up!"
It happened very quickly. Hermione was used to being picked last at every games lesson so it didn't come as a surprise that she was again. Along with-
Oh no.
"Professor, why have I been left with the Mudblood? I don't want her looking at me."
You remember what we said before about not saying stupid stuff? It applies double here and now. You know that Quirrell will protect you. Does she?
"Oh, well if it makes you feel any better I could wear a blindfold while I beat you."
YOUNG LADY WE ARE GOING TO HAVE WORDS LATER!
"G-girls, please-"
"No, Professor, it's fine." Hermione pulled off her tie and wound it around her eyes, deftly knotting it tight. She couldn't see a thing and she slipped into a trance.
The classroom was deathly silent save for Parkinson's outraged tantrum. Hermione breathed slow as a sniper, waiting for the first sign of movement.
"W-well, that's everyone p-p-paired up. BEGIN!"
Hermione moved. Pansy's stunner thumped into empty space as her opponent span out of the way and let off one of her own. The red light was barely visible through her wrappings and she heard more movement. It was purposeful and loud, though the walker didn't intend for it to be.
"STUPEFY," roared Draco Malfoy from across the room. Hermione's head turned towards him slowly and moved again, ducking into a roll and sending another Stunner his way. He dodged right into the path of Hermione's low, sweeping kick. It sent him crashing to the floor and Hermione stood up, settling into a low Shotokai forward stance, front leg at a perfect angle and back leg ramrod straight as her wand pointed between the boy's eyes, unmoving as an Egyptian pyramid.
"Stupefy," she said, and the force of the spell knocked Malfoy's head back into the bare wood of the floor.
OoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOooooh crap.
"Miss Granger, I am extremely surprised at you!"
"I cannot say that I am, Minerva," oiled Snape. "She is almost as bad as the Potter brat. Both worse than the other, in their own special way, although he-"
"Severus, please. This is not about Harry Potter, who apparently has a rather good Stunning Spell on him. This is about Hermione Granger, who apparently has an even better one, along with a knack for both duelling and ritualised humiliation. Tell me, Hermione, are you quite certain you have not come from the future by means of magic most complex and dire?"
Hermione had heard all the rumours about Albus Dumbledore being what could be described by the charitable as "differently sane" and by Cora Granger as "so far round the twist he could market himself as a helter-skelter, and probably does on a slow morning". It still puzzled her greatly. "No, Professor. Not that I know of."
Dumbledore looked at her, his twinkly blue eyes seeming to strip Hermione away layer by layer, but in a nice way – something a bit difficult to convey without doing it, or indeed without being Albus Dumbledore.
"Very well, just a thought. Lemon drop?"
Hermione tapped her top pocket and blushed, even more confused than before. "Er, no thank you, Professor. I've, er, got some Pocky."
"Ah, those Muggle biscuit things of which your mother is so fond. I believe my favourite flavour is the banana one."
Hermione quailed.
"Hermione, what the Headmaster is about to convey is the seriousness of the situation you find yourself in. You physically assaulted another student during a lesson-"
"Substantially after she herself was attacked, Minerva, and by all accounts whilst she was intentionally blindfolded. A somewhat cowardly attack, you would agree."
"Well, yes-"
"But that does not mean Miss Granger will be excused punishment. Nor, however, shall Mister Malfoy. A week's detention should suffice for them both. Minerva, I would like you to oversee Mister Malfoy's – put him to whatever use you see fit. As for Miss Granger... perhaps the best course of action would be for me to oversee her detention personally in the library. Their detentions will be starting tonight."
"Headmaster," Snape said, visibly rankled, "Granger has detention with me tonight, and for a week afterwards-"
"Ah, yes, Severus, but we must remember that backchat is substantially less severe than unwarranted physical violence. If they clash, well... I can only offer my apologies. I will of course be informing Mr and Mrs Granger of the exact facts of the day's events, which Professor Quirrell has been kind enough to relate to me. And now, Miss Granger, you may take your leave. I will see you tonight in the library at seven o'clock. Oh, and Hermione?"
Hermione's sprint for the door was abruptly curtailed.
"Do bring some banana Pocky, will you?"
Minerva McGonagall goggled again as Hermione nodded, squeaked, and took off for the safety of her Charms class with a small thunderclap.
AN#2: Thank you again for all the reviews and favourites generated by Chapter 11. It's been very interesting to read what people think and I reckon productive too. *hugs you all and provides you with Review Cookies*
