The halls were nearly empty by the time Hermione made it to the Transfiguration corridor. The only people she saw were a few younger Ravenclaws, and they barely noticed her as they passed her on the stairs.
The now-familiar lump rose in her throat when she reached the door to McGonagall's office. Don't think about it, she told herself sharply. She was tired of crying in front of McGonagall. She straightened herself up, and knocked firmly on the door.
"Come in," was the mild reply.
The room was colder than Hermione was expecting, and she gave an involuntary shiver as she stepped into the room and closed the door behind her.
"I have to apologize, Miss Granger," McGonagall was pulling the drapes over the large windows, and muttering an enchantment as she did so, "I returned later than I expected to, and I've asked the elves not to worry about this room, I am more than capable of taking care of my rooms," she turned from the last drape and flicked her wand. Two wing-backed chairs appeared before the fire, and another flick made a plate of sandwiches, a couple goblets, and a jug of Pumpkin Juice appear.
"Am I correct in believing that you have not had supper?" McGonagall asked, beckoning for Hermione to sit.
Hermione nodded, "Madam Pomfrey told me that I would eat with you," she said quietly as she sat.
McGonagall nodded, and set another log on the fire, "Yes, I thought it would be nice to have a conversation outside of the Hospital Wing before you head up to your dormitory. Have you come directly from the Hospital Wing?"
Hermione nodded. Earlier this evening, Madam Pomfrey had unceremoniously laid a fresh set of clothing at the foot of Hermione's bed with the announcement that she was fully healed, and could now leave.
"I will, of course," McGonagall gave Hermione a kind, but no less penetrating look, "understand if you wish to wait a few more days before rejoining your peers. You may return to the Hospital Wing, or we have a few spare rooms in the-"
"That won't be necessary," Hermione said quickly. She blushed under McGonagall's gaze, "I'd- I think it would be best to get it over with as soon as possible."
McGonagall gave her an appraising look, and then walked to her desk and pulled a golden plate from it.
Hermione watched curiously as McGonagall placed the plate on top of her desk, and tapped the center twice with her wand. Her eyes widened when two steaming mugs of butterbeer appeared.
"I thought that butterbeer might be just the thing to chase away the chill," McGonagall said as she carried the two mugs over to the little table.
"Thank you," Hermione said.
McGonagall took her seat, and held her mug of butterbeer to her lips, giving a small smile of satisfaction after she had taken a drink. "Please, Miss Granger," she said as she gestured to the other mug, "I'm certain it will help."
Hermione took a polite sip, and found that it did help fend off the cold. Soon after, McGonagall was thrusting a sandwich into her hand, and it was not until they had finished their butterbeer and moved on to their Pumpkin Juice that McGonagall began to speak about something other than food.
"You are one of the brightest students I have ever had the privilege to teach," McGonagall said, her gaze softening as Hermione blushed, "so I am sure that you will return to your regular schedule without a single person suspecting that you've…"
"Been away for a year?" Hermione asked in her best attempt at a casual voice.
McGonagall nodded, "It will not be easy for you," she said with a hint of warning in her voice, "and so I would like to resume our weekly meetings, if that is all right with you?"
Hermione nodded faintly.
"Good," McGonagall said, standing. With a flick of her wand she cleared the dishes from the table, then strode over to her desk and picked up a wooden chest. She brought it back and placed it on the table beside Hermione.
"What's this?" Hermione asked.
McGonagall settled back into her chair, "After your disappearance, Lest-" her expression saddened, "Miss Black, ran to my chambers and alerted me to your absence."
The sandwiches in Hermione's stomach churned ominously. She stared at McGonagall, waiting for the Professor to continue.
McGonagall sighed, "We searched the entire castle, and the grounds. Hagrid searched the forest. There was no sign of you. When Professor Dumbledore finished his own search, he asked Miss Black to tell him how you disappeared, and-" she shook her head slightly, "he determined that you were gone."
Hermione swallowed heavily.
"We hoped that you had returned here," McGonagall said, and a smile tugged at the corners of her mouth, "and you can imagine how relieved I was when we discovered you."
"And… Bella?" Hermione asked.
If possible, McGonagall sat up straighter, "Miss Black took the news rather hard," she said gently, "she made all sorts of inappropriate threats against the Headmaster," her lips pursed in disapproval, "and finally made him promise to owl her if he found any sign of you." She let out a long breath, "When I returned from escorting students to the Hogsmead Station, I found this," she tapped the lid of the chest, "on my desk."
Hermione turned her attention to the chest. "This is Bellatrix's," she said, recognizing the Black Family Crest.
McGonagall nodded, "Indeed, Miss Black left it with me in hopes that it would get to you."
Hermione reached out and ran her fingers over the lid, "Can I?"
McGonagall nodded, "Yes, though you don't need to ask my permission," she said with a small smile, "it is yours, after all."
Hermione pushed the lid up, and gasped.
"My wand!" she looked at McGonagall as she pulled her wand from the box, "I didn't even realize-" she felt a pang of guilt as she examined the wood.
"You've had other things to think about," McGonagall said in a dismissive tone, "I think you'll find it in good condition, my wand polish is made by Ollivander himself."
"Thank you!" Hermione said, smiling.
McGonagall smiled back, "You are quite welcome," she said.
Hermione returned her attention to the contents of the chest. There were undergarments, a nightgown, and several robes. She fingered the smooth silk of her Slytherin tie, and shot McGonagall a look, "I guess I won't need these anymore," she said.
McGonagall peered through her spectacles at Hermione, "Perhaps not," she said. She cleared her throat, "The rivalry between Gryffindor and Slytherin has gone on for so many years that many have forgotten how close the two once were. There are many things that we can learn from one another, and you are the first person I know who has been given the chance."
Hermione's brow wrinkled as she continued to caress the cool fabric, "I don't feel as if I know any more about being a Slytherin than I did a year ago," she said truthfully.
McGonagall didn't answer.
Hermione returned to the chest, there were a few more items that she had acquired over the months, a hairbrush, a hand mirror, her cloak. She started to pull this last item from the chest, when something fell from between its folds.
Hermione's eyes grew large as she pulled the moonlight orb from the robe.
"Yes, that," McGonagall said in an amused tone, "I hope you'll forgive me, it was originally wrapped in that piece of parchment-"
Hermione whipped her head around and gazed at the scrap of old parchment that stuck out from the black fabric.
"-but after the rise of the infamous Bellatrix Lestrange," McGonagall's voice dripped with distaste, "I had to make sure that she hadn't cursed anything."
Hermione nodded in understanding, though she felt sure that Bellatrix would do nothing to harm her.
"I couldn't help but recognize the orb," McGonagall said slyly, "excellent display of spell work, I daresay."
Hermione tried to keep her face neutral as McGonagall continued to stare at her, looking very much like a smug cat. "I suppose…" she said, wondering in the back of her mind if she could still be punished for something that she technically did decades ago.
"Yes, well, that will be all for tonight Miss Granger. Unless you have any more concerns?"
Hermione shook her head quickly.
"Very well," McGonagall rose, "Would you like me to send that up for you?" she asked, pointing to the chest.
Hermione picked it up gingerly, "I think I can manage," she said as she realized that it was much lighter than it looked.
McGonagall gave her a shrewd look, and then strode to the door, "Good Night Miss Granger," she said kindly as she pulled the door open, "and remember, if you need anything, you can always come to me."
Hermione nodded, "Thank you Professor," she said. Then, before she could start crying again, she left.
The chest may have been light, but it was bulky. She was relieved when the portrait of the Fat Lady came into view, and she muttered a quick "Pickled Toad" before stepping carefully through the portrait hole.
She breathed an enormous sigh of relief when she saw that the Common Room was empty. She crossed to the door that led to her dormitory as quickly as she could, and said a prayer as she walked up the stone steps that the other girls would be asleep.
They were. The room was dark and filled with the sounds of light snoring.
Hermione put the chest down at the foot of her bed, and changed into her nightgown. Her covers were cold when she climbed on top of them, and she shivered slightly as she pulled her bed hangings closed.
Her hands shook as she opened the chest. The moonlight orb lay on top of the clothes, and its brightness comforted her. She took it out and placed it in her lap.
Please, she prayed silently, please, please, please. She reached back inside of the chest, slid her hand into the cloak and pulled the piece of parchment out. Her chest tightened.
Please let this be the one, she thought. She wrapped her hands around her wand and took a deep breath.
"Bellatrix Black," she whispered as she tapped her wand to the parchment.
Her breathing grew less restrained as ink flowed through the parchment. Her dot, Hermione Granger, bloomed, and the girl's common room appeared.
"Hogwarts," she whispered, watching anxiously as the map expanded to cover the school and its grounds.
Nothing.
Hermione swallowed, "Bellatrix Lestrange," she said mournfully as she tapped her wand again.
Still nothing.
Hermione swallowed, "Black Manor," she tried, then "The Lestrange residence," then "Malfoy Manor."
For what felt like hours she sat there, tapping her wand to the parchment and trying out place after place, until she could think of nowhere else.
Finally, she placed the parchment and the orb back into the chest, and placed it beside her bed. Tears coursed down her cheeks as she crawled between her sheets, and she did nothing to stop them as she fell into a dreamless sleep.
Hermione woke with a start the next morning.
Must've had a bad dream, she told herself as she tried to catch her breath. She gingerly peeled back one of her hangings, and breathed a sigh of relief when she saw that she was alone.
She rose and dressed quickly. Her schoolbag was already packed and waiting, and she slung the strap over her shoulder as she hurried down the stairs.
She arrived at the great hall a few minutes later. Her feet automatically pointed towards the Slytherin table, and she was halfway there before she realized what she was doing and turned to head towards the Gryffindor table.
"Hermione!"
Several smiling faces waved excitedly at her as she hastened towards her friends. Harry was already moving to make room between himself and Ginny.
"We're glad you're back Hermione!" he said as she slid in beside him.
"What happened?" Ron asked as Ginny shoveled eggs and toast onto Hermione's plate, "McGonagall wouldn't tell us anything, we thought something terrible had happened."
"Ron!" Ginny glowered at him, "She hasn't even had breakfast yet," she caught Hermione's eye, "You don't have to say anything," she said firmly.
Harry passed her the pumpkin juice, "You haven't missed much," he said, "I'm sure you'll be caught up before lunch."
You have no idea, Hermione thought as she drank heavily from her goblet.
Ginny rolled her eyes, "You should've heard the way they went on about their homework this week," she said, "it's all I've heard about all week. 'Snape'll be the death of me'", she moaned in an accurate impersonation of Ron.
"He will!" Ron said, "He wants an essay every day now, and not a single one is less than three rolls of parchment!" He stared pleadingly at Hermione, "You have to help us Hermione."
Harry nodded gravely, and Hermione snorted, "Honestly, when will you learn to do your own assignments?"
"We can do them," Ron said, taking a bite of muffin, "but if you could, you know, look them over…"
Hermione grimaced as bits of muffin spewed from his mouth.
"Give her some time to catch up on her own work, she's only just got back!" Ginny said. "Honestly," she said to Hermione, "ignore them." She gave Hermione's arm a gentle squeeze, "We missed you."
"I missed you too," Hermione said. She took a piece of toast from the plate in front of her and bit into it.
The others resumed the conversation they had started before she sat down. Hermione listened halfheartedly as they debated the strengths and weaknesses of the Ravenclaw Quidditch team.
"Oh, look," Ginny's voice cut through the conversation, "Post's here."
Hermione looked up as hundreds of owls fluttered overhead.
A brown owl dropped down in front of her and held out its leg. Hermione quickly untied the copy of The Daily Prophet that was attached, and smoothed it out before her.
A photograph of a ruined Muggle house took up most of the front page. The headline read:
SIX MUGGLES DEAD AFTER DEATH EATER ATTACK.
Six Muggles were found dead in their homes as Ministry officials responded to a reported sighting of the Dark Mark. Upon their arrival they noted that the front door of the residence had been blown off its hinges, and the inside of the home revealed 'unmistakable signs of magical damage'. The victims were Robert (49) and Matilda Newton (41), their daughters Elizabeth (12), Amelia (9), Susie (2), and their son, Michael (14). One witch, a Miss Jane Crewe, was also present at the time of the attack. Miss Crewe was transported to St. Mungo's after it was discovered that she had been the victim of the Cruciatus Curse. The chief suspect in this crime is the escaped prisoner Bellatrix Lestrange, who is known for using the Cruciatus Curse on Alice and Frank Longbottom after (cont. on page 8)
Hermione flipped to page eight, and felt her blood turn to ice. There, on the page, was a large photograph of Bellatrix Lestrange. Even though she had seen this picture countless times before, Hermione felt tears spring to her eyes as she surveyed the damage the years had done.
"Don't worry Hermione," Harry's voice was cold with determination, "she'll pay for everything she's done."
Hermione surveyed the look of hate on Harry's face with growing horror. The look on his face he stared down at the woman in the photograph was unlike any look she had seen him wear before.
He's going to kill her, she thought frantically. No, no, she thought, trying to calm herself, Harry couldn't kill anyone. Not even Pettigrew… At worst she'd get the Dementor's Kiss. Her stomach lurched again at the thought.
"She deserves it," Ron said hatefully as if reading her thoughts, "After what she did to Sirius."
Sirius.
"Hermione?" Harry called as she lurched to her feet.
She ignored him. She barely had time to grab her bag as she plummeted out of the great hall and towards the closest girl's lavatory. Her head reeled as she darted into the nearest stall and emptied the contents of her stomach into the toilet.
Her hands shook as she wiped her mouth on the sleeve of her robes. All she could think about was the jeering face of Bellatrix Lestrange and the names of the Muggles that had been killed. The youngest had been only two.
"Hermione?"
Hermione jumped at the sound of Ginny's voice. "Just a moment!" she called.
"What happened?" Ginny asked as Hermione emerged and moved to wash her hands.
Hermione avoided Ginny's gaze, "I'm not feeling well," she said lamely.
"Do you need to go to the Hosp-"
"No!" Hermione said, a little too forcefully. A hurt look crossed the redhead's face, and Hermione forced herself to smile apologetically, "I'm fine, really. I'm just feeling a little overwhelmed," she said.
Ginny nodded, "I understand, I'd feel the same way if something happened to my family."
It took Hermione a minute to figure out what Ginny was talking about, before she remembered the excuse McGonagall had given them, "Yeah," she said quietly, not knowing what to say.
"Well, if you ever want to talk," Ginny said, "you can always come to me."
"Definitely," Hermione said, forcing another smile, "Thanks Ginny."
"Of course," the younger girl said. She stepped forward and gave Hermione another hug. "Don't forget that you have family here too," she whispered.
Hermione patted her on the back, "I know," she said gently. But as the redhead pulled away and led her to the door, Hermione couldn't help but wish that it was Bellatrix, and not Ginny, who had said those words.
Friday night in the Gryffindor common room was far noisier than Hermione remembered. First years roared with laughter as they recounted the events of the past week. A pair of girls at the table beside Hermione's were engaged in a heated argument about which of their mothers was the most smothering, and around the fire sat several members of the Gryffindor Quidditch team, all of whom were singing different versions of the same song as loudly as they could.
Hermione glowered at a corner where Ron and Lavender were trapped in a lover's embrace. They're going to suffocate if they don't come up for air soon, she thought.
She hated to admit that she longed for the quiet calm of the Slytherin common room. Sure, there had been lively moments, but for the most part it stayed at a normal volume. It was far easier to concentrate that way.
Perhaps I should ask Professor Sprout if I could borrow a pair of her earmuffs, she thought as one of the first years brayed at a joke.
She tried unsuccessfully to focus on the book she was reading, but found that she was too distracted to read.
She snapped her book shut and stood. Without thinking she headed for the portrait hole.
She hadn't realized how tense she was until she stepped into the silent corridor. The cool air felt refreshing against her face, and it calmed her nerves. She stood still and let herself relax before heading down the corridor.
The past week had been agonizing. While she was glad to see her friends again, their constant discussions about the Death Eaters were too much for Hermione to endure. The picture of Bellatrix had been in the Prophet again this morning; amidst a dozen other mug shots from escaped prisoners. Hermione chewed the inside of her cheek, and was so lost in thought that she didn't see Harry when he passed her on the staircase.
"Hermione!"
Hermione whipped her head around at the sound of Harry's voice, and offered a faint smile, "Hi, Harry."
"I was just going to the common room to look for you," he said, "Dumbledore wants to see you."
Hermione blinked in surprise, "Me?"
Harry nodded, "His letter said so," he fell into step beside her as she turned to head towards the Headmaster's office.
"Do you have a lesson tonight?" Hermione asked curiously.
Harry nodded, "Yes."
"How are they going?" she asked, smiling politely at professor Sinistra as they passed her.
Harry let out a long sigh, "He won't listen to me about Malfoy," he said earnestly, "I know he's up to something, but Dumbledore refuses to believe me!"
Hermione rolled her eyes, It's always a Malfoy, she thought. "I'm sure that he has his reasons," she said.
Harry frowned, "Ton-tongue toffee,' he said when they reached the stone gargoyle.
"The twins will be so proud," Hermione said. She was happy to see the corner of Harry's mouth twitch in amusement.
They climbed the spiral staircase, and Hermione shifted uncomfortably when they reached the door at the top of the stairs.
"I'll wait here," Harry said, leaning casually against the wall.
Hermione nodded to show that she'd heard, and knocked on the door. It sprung open instantly.
Fawkes the phoenix chirped a low soulful note as Hermione entered the room. Dumbledore looked up from behind his desk and offered her a warm smile.
"Miss Granger," Dumbledore spoke as if her arrival was a pleasant surprise, "how good of you to come. Please, sit." He gestured to a cozy looking chair on the other side of his desk.
Hermione took a seat and gazed around the room. Dozens of portraits filled the walls, and while one or two stared at her, most were dozing, or chatting quietly amongst themselves.
Fawkes emitted another low note, and Hermione turned her attention to Professor Dumbledore.
"May I offer you something to drink?" he asked, his blue eyes never once leaving her face, "Water, juice, hot chocolate?"
"No, thank you," Hermione responded. She twisted her wand between her fingers and willed him to get to the point. She studied the strange silver instruments on the nearest spindly table in an effort to avoid his gaze.
"The past week has not been easy for you," Dumbledore commented.
Irritation prickled beneath Hermione's skin. Of course the past week has not been easy; anyone with eyes could have seen that! She thought scornfully.
"It must be difficult for you to be away from Miss Black," he continued softly.
Hermione ground her teeth.
"I know how close the two of you were, and to come back and find that she has become… well, I can imagine how hurt and angry you must be feeling."
Angry tears were forming in Hermione's eyes, and bile rose to her throat as he said those last few words. He doesn't know anything! She thought. She opened her mouth to say as much, and caught his eye-
The understanding in Dumbledore's eyes his Hermione like a bludger to the belly. He knows, she thought incredulously, something in his eyes told Hermione that he had felt what she was feeling before.
"They hate her," she moaned before she could stop herself, "everyone- they want her dead." Tears stung her cheeks, and she wiped furiously at them.
"Madam Lestrange has done terrible things," Dumbledore said gently. "Many people would have every reason to hate her."
Hermione couldn't seem to stop crying. She wiped her face over and over, and ultimately buried her face in her hands as the sobs broke through.
There was a gentle rustle of feathers as Fawkes flew to the desk. Hermione felt his incredibly soft cheek rub against her fingers. Then his mournful song enveloped Hermione. It was longing and painful, but the more he sang the better Hermione felt. Until, at last, she raised her head and looked the phoenix in the eye.
"I find that Fawkes is a good friend to have in times of grief," Dumbledore said as the phoenix finished the last few notes of his song.
"I can see why," Hermione said, taking the handkerchief that Dumbledore offered to her and wiping her eyes.
"I regret that I do not spend as much time with the students of Hogwarts as I used to when I was a teacher here," Dumbledore said as he stroked Fawkes' crimson head, "but I am not blind to the sufferings that go on within these walls."
"Miss Granger, yours is a very unique case. As Professor McGonagall has no doubt pointed out, you have been through an ordeal that has never been documented before. Many would be driven mad by the experience. This is not a mere manipulation of time."
Hermione clutched the handkerchief tightly as she met his gaze.
Dumbledore reached into his desk and withdrew a blue velvet bag. "I'm afraid that there is no one who would be able to understand the full extent of your feelings," he said as he set it on the table. He reached into the bag and pulled out a shallow stone basin the size of a dinner plate, "But, being the clever witch that I know you to be, I am sure that you will be able to help yourself. Do you know what this is?"
Hermione gazed at the strange runes around the edges of the basin, "Is it a pensieve?" she asked.
"Very good," Dumbledore nodded. He placed the pensieve back in the bag and pushed it towards Hermione, "I sent for this the evening they found you," he said gently, "it was supposed to arrive days ago, but…" he shrugged, "I thought that it would help you to have one of your own. Sometimes our memories are the only thing that can help us."
Hermione took the bag into her lap, and gazed gratefully back at Dumbledore, "Thank you Professor!" she gasped, "I-I don't know what to say."
"You've said it already," said Dumbledore with an amused chuckle. "Now, I hate to rush you out, but I have an appointment."
Harry! Hermione realized as she stood that he was still waiting for his lesson. "Thanks again, Professor," she said, watching Fawkes return to his perch.
With a final smile at Dumbledore, Hermione opened the door, squeezed by a curious Harry, and headed down the spiral staircase. For the first time since her return, she felt a flicker of hope.