Hey gang! Here's the newest chapter! You probably won't get another one until after Christmas, but I tried to get this to you as quick as I could. I hope you like it! Whoo though, this thing may get longer then I planned with all I have to fit in! Anyway, enjoy, and reviews are always welcome! Happy Holidays! As always I own nothing, especially not the passages in this chapter paraphrased from the book.
Hermione reached out her hand to stroke Hedwig's feathers. The owl cooed contentedly, and returned to preening herself. The rest of the owls in the Owlrey were similarly occupied, preening, sleeping, and generally just being owls, having little care for the trouble brewing in the school below them.
Hermione closed her eyes, drinking in the peacefulness of the Owlrey. She had been coming up here a lot lately, she had told Ron(who was currently swamped with Quidditch practice, which personally, she thought he needed as much as he could get) that she went up to check on Hedwig, and that was partly true, but she mostly came to get away from the tumult of her life. The cooing of the owls and the view of the lake was calm and soothing, and she relished the small amount of time she was able to spend there.
Between studying for classes, planning and teaching the DA, worrying about Harry, and having to deal with various adolescent dramas, she hadn't been sleeping well; and it was beginning to show. She looked pale and peaked, her eyes were darkening, and even her hair was beginning to look limp. She had always prided herself on her ability to multitask, but her hadn't felt this spread out since her third year.
She sighed, and leapt down from her perch on the window ledge. She dusted herself off, making sure there were no owl feathers clinging to her clock or her hair, and headed down the stairs. As she reached the school proper, her heart began to beat rapidly. Prof. Dumbledore had sent her a note asking to speak to her that afternoon.
To say that she was excited would have been a gross understatement. She had never been to Dumbledore's office before, and even though she knew that it was unlikely, she still hoped that he had some news to tell her about Harry. When she reached the gargoyle, she took a few deep breaths to steady her, and spoke the password "Carmel Drops" with more waver in her voice than she liked.
She walked rapidly up the spiral staircase and into the circular office of her headmaster. She looked in awe at the rows of books, the sleeping paintings of former heads, and the curious insturments on the desk, before turning her attention to the man himself.
Dumbledore looked almost as bad as she did. He too looked like he could use a good week's worth of sleep, and his blue eyes had lost their customary twinkle. "Sit down Ms. Granger," He said in a soft voice, gesturing to the chair in front of his desk. "Thank you for answering my summons."
Hermione obediently sat, and though she tried to contain herself, the question she most desperately wanted to ask burst out of its own accord. "Please sir, has-has there any word at all about…Harry?" Her eyes shown with barely concealed hope, and Dumbledore hated to dose it. "No, I'm afraid not…"
Hermione sighed, and her entire body seemed to slump. "I'm sorry Ms. Granger to have to tell you this, but… perhaps in this case, no new is good news." Hermione looked up at him questioningly. "I mean of course," he continued "That if I and the Order with all our resources have had so little luck finding him, then we may hope that Lord Voldemort and his forces have had an equally hard time. We must keep faith therefore that Harry is still alive and well, and keeping out of trouble. "
Hermione nodded, reaching up with one hand to wipe away the wetness starting to grow in her eyes. "I just wish we knew he was alright, if he Sirius had found him or not. Has there been any sign of Sirius at all?" Dumbledore shook his head, and she nodded numbly again.
Dumbledore looked Hermione over, taking in her exhausted appearance, and decided this was not the time to burden her with the knowledge that Remus had not been heard from for some time as well. He wondered what would be appropriate to speak to her about. He knew that there was some sort of covert student activity happening outside of Umbridge's heavy restrictions, but he did not know the exact nature of it, or Hermione's involvement. But if her current appearance was any indication, she obviously had a lot on her plate.
"Ms. Granger, is there anything that you'd like to speak to me about?" He asked kindly, hoping to get to the point of their meeting. Hermione looked startled, but quickly covered it up. There was no need to get Prof. Dumbledore involved in the DA, he was in enough trouble with the Ministry already without adding the chance of them getting wind he was involved with actively defying their chosen representative to the school. "No sir, nothing."
Dumbledore sighed, wondering how many times he was going to hear that phrase, and why young people always felt they had to carry these things themselves. Why hadn't Harry confided in one of his friends about his fears? Why had he decided removing himself from his sphere of safety was the best course of action? Why hadn't he listened to his message to him?
"Well, you haven't exactly given him much incentive to listen to you, have you Albus?" Said a quiet voice in his head. "Not answering his questions, avoiding him all year."
" I did it for his own good." He answered back to himself. "It's always for somebody's good." The voice answered back, "Question is, is it really for his good?" Dumbledore didn't have an answer.
"Very well Ms. Granger," He said finally "You may go." Hermione nodded, and stood up, wondering what the point of this meeting had been.
She was turning over the contents of her next DA lesson in her head, and wondering how Ginny was getting on as Seeker and how things stood with her and Neville, when a woman's scream issued from somewhere near the entrance hall. Hermione jumped in surprise, and then ran in the direction of the sound. Eventually she reached the hall, where a sizable crowd had already gathered around some sort of spectacle in the center. She managed to push her way into a clump of Ravenclaws, and tapped one she knew on the shoulder.
"Rolf, what on earth is going on?" Rolf turned around to see who had tapped him, then pointed over the heads of the crowd, "It's Trelawney! She's being sacked!" Another scream rose from the inside of the crowd, and Hermione continued to struggle to the front. Finally she managed to catch sight of the Divination professor for whom she had long held a particularly distain for, and the sight was not pretty.
Prof. Trelawney stood in with her wand in one hand and an empty sherry bottle in the other, and looked absolutely crazed. Her hair was sticking up, her glasses where skewed, enlarging one eye more than the other; and her various scarves and shawls were falling haphazardly from her shoulders. Two large trunks, looking like they'd been thrown down the entry hall stairs, lay beside her. And she was staring in absolute horror at a grinning person at the foot of the stairs.
"Umbridge…" Hermione hissed through clenched teeth. She had never liked Prof. Trelawney, but she never would have wished for the woman to be at the mercy of this toad. "No!" Trelawney was shrieking, "NO! This cannot happen! I refuse to accept this!"
Umbridge smiled wider, "You didn't realize this was coming?" ash asked in that high girlish voice that made Hermione want to gag.
"Incapable as you are of predicting even tomorrows weather, you must have realized that your pitiful performance during my inspections, and the lack of any improvement, would make this inevitable?" "You c-can't!" howled Trelawney, tears streaming down her face. "You c-can't! I've been here sixteen years! H-Hogwarts is my h-home!"
"Was your home," smirked Umbridge, "until an hour ago, when the Minister countersigned the order for your dismissal. Now kindly remove yourself, you are embarrassing us." At this, Trelawney collapsed onto her trunks, shaking with grief.
Hermione saw that across from her Lavender and Parvati were holding each other and sobbing. She couldn't watch anymore. She turned and ran in the opposite direction, not bothering to notice where she was going; she just wanted to get away from this horrible scene of Umbridge's power.
Finally, she reached the bottom of a staircase located next to the statue of some wizard trying in vain to remove an angry badger from its hold on his leg, and collapsed. Her breath was coming up in short gasps, and there was a painful stitch in her side. She hadn't eaten all day, and she felt sick, like she was going throw up.
"Are you going to be sick?" Hermione's head shot up at the voice, and she looked around widely. No one was there but the statue, but it couldn't have…could it? Well, after all, Hermione thought, there's talking pictures, why not a talking statue? " Roland the Rejected?" she asked uncertainly, looking up at the statue.
"What- NO! Do I look old enough to be turned down by Helga Hufflepuff?" Hermione blinked, and stared into the darkness behind the statue. She could just make out a form in the shadows, lounging just out of sight.
"Who-who are you?" "That's not important right now." The voice answered back, "But if you are going to be sick, I'd like to know. It'll be inconvenient, but I can always come back later, just not much later if you don't want some serious trouble on your hands."
Hermione frowned, the voice was making no sense. "I'm not going to be sick…what do you want?" "I want to know if it's true that you've got some sort of subversive team working to undermine Umbridge." Hermione straightened, her guard was up now.
"Where did you get an idea like that?" "Have you ever heard the saying keep your friends close, but your enemies closer? Well in your case, you've kept an enemy just a little too close. You've got a traitor in your midst Granger, and one that wouldn't shed any tears if you and everyone else in your little group got rounded up."
Hermione shook her head in disbelief, "No, you're wrong. I'd know if anyone sni-" She broke off suddenly, realizing she had just as good as given herself away. "There are a lot of ways to blab without actually telling. People let things slip all the time, case in point…"
Hermione scowled, "What's your game? Who are you?"
"I told you already, my identity isn't important, in fact, it would probably be in your favor that I stayed anonymous. As to my game, well, let's just say I'm interested in the welfare of this school, as are you obviously, or you wouldn't be working against Umbridge."
Hermione's head was whirling, this was just too strange, it was like she'd fallen into some sort of spy movie. "Look, will you just get at the point? All this subterfuge is giving me a headache." The voice was silent for a moment, as if annoyed, finally, it sighed.
"Very well, I don't like Umbridge anymore then you do, and I want to do anything I can to make life harder for her. Unfortunately, I don't have as many…supporters, as you do. So this is my deal, you allow me access to your group's help if need arises, and in return, I supply you with valuable inside information on Umbridge's future plans for the school, as well as help you to weed out your traitor. Does that sound fair?"
Hermione pondered this, it certainly sounded fair enough, but one thing still puzzled her. "If you wanted to help, why didn't you just join up when we were recruiting?"
"Two reasons, one, I didn't find out about your little group until recently and two… I don't expect you to be very receptive to me."
"Why? Who are you? And don't give me all that about your identity not being important. And how exactly are you going to give us inside information? The only students Umbridge even talks to outside of class and detentions are the Slyther-"
Hermione broke off again as realization set in. "Oh no…" "If you really want to find out who I am, and what I can do for you, meet me in the Owlrey at dawn tomorrow. Don't be late Granger, time is of the essence. She's planning something, something that will affect all of us."
Then, before Hermione could even jump up to stop it, the figure leapt from the shadows and streaked down the hall, their cloak's hood pulled over their head to hide their face. Hermione shot up; attempting to follow them, but a rush of dizziness sent her onto her knees. When she was finally able to stand again, the figure was long gone.
"Well…" she whispered to herself, "I guess I'm waking up early tomorrow…"
Well, there you go! Hope you liked that, feel free to speculate who our young informer is in your reviews, though of course, I'm not telling!