Chapter 36 : Au Milieu
Draco was practically drunk with power. His main hobby now was to torment Potter and the Gryffindors every waking moment of their day. The Inquisitorial Squad as a whole, really, were all busy docking points from other houses. Because the Squad was composed of mainly Slytherins, Slytherin House now ranked highest in points. They all went out of their way to find minute errors in other students', punishing them for it.
The other Houses were getting quite furious with how things were working out, but being unable to retaliate without getting points docked or receiving detention, they were stuck grumbling about it to each other.
"Hey, did you hear?" asked Theo during lunch. "Montague's missing."
"What do you mean?" asked Hermione.
"No one has seen him since two days ago."
"What? How could that have happened?" asked Daphne.
"Some people are saying that the Weasley twins did it, but we can't know for sure."
"I guess we should tone done the Inquisitorial business don't you think?" asked Hermione, "The other Houses might hold grudges for taking it a bit overboard."
"Tell that to Draco." snorted Theo, eyes pointed to where the boy in question was berating a Hufflepuff first year for chewing too loudly.
Hermione was forced to admit that the Weasley twins were geniuses in their own right. The first explosion had caused her to jump up from her seat at the Slytherin table in shock. It's force had actually caused the floor to shake.
Suddenly, the Hall was lit up with swirling bright enchanted fireworks. Dragons comprised entirely of green-and-gold sparks were soaring up and down the corridors, emitting loud fiery blasts and bangs as they went. Shocking-pink Catherine wheels five feet in diameter were whizzing lethally through the air like so many flying saucers. Rockets with long tails of brilliant silver stars were ricocheting off the walls. Sparklers were writing swearwords in midair of their own accord.
The fireworks continued to burn and to spread all over the school that afternoon. Though they caused plenty of disruption, particularly the firecrackers, the other teachers did not seem to mind them very much. It seemed as though the firecrackers were enchanted to target Umbridge, Filch, and members of the Inquisitorial Squad. Of course, Hermione, being herself, was fully equipped in defending herself against the crackles and pops of the explosions. Everywhere she went, she had her Shield Charm up with a radius of at least three feet.
Hermione found it quite amusing, really, unlike her friends, who had ended their day with singed cloaks and ash on their faces. Umbridge herself looked the worst she had ever been. The new headmistress had spent the afternoon chasing the fireworks out of the school.
Hermione knew Harry Potter was an idiot since she was very little, but she didn't;t think he was big enough an idiot to anger Snape enough to stop all their Occlumency lessons together. The very same night Snape kicked Potter out of his office, he called on Hermione.
She had become a sort of protege to the professor, sometimes he would even share an occasional story with her. Her relationship with the Potions Master unnerved her, it was odd to see him out of his usual character. Of course, he was still a sneering, snide man, but somehow he seemed less cold.
"How will he keep the Dark Lord away, then?" Hermione snorted, as she threw a curse at a stuffed mannequin the professor had conjured to practice her wandwork.
"He won't." said Snape simply. "Invert your arm a little, keep it locked."
"We're doomed for then?" she asked, blasting one of the dummy's fingers off of its body.
"Not necessarily. The Headmaster has a plan for everything." Snape said, maintaining his focus on her spells, "I thought I told you to aim for the ring finger? You severed the middle one. Try again."
"I haven't seen much of Headmaster Dumbledore these days, sir." Hermione said, shooting off another spell.
"Is that supposed to be a question?" asked Snape, who eyed the ring finger that had fallen to the ground in front of his feet.
"Only if you'll answer it, sir." she said simply.
"Dumbledore is a busy man, Miss Dagworth-Granger." he said. "He has a lot on his hands."
Hermione nodded, not exactly satisfied with the answer. "Shall we try Occlumency now, sir?"
"No," said Snape. "I have one thing I want to try. Just once, to show you what to expect."
The professor pushed the mannequin aside, coming to stand in front of her. "The Dark Lord is fond of his curses, as well as your aunt. It is a fact that once you are inducted, you will be on the receiving end of quite a few of them. If you are not against it, the Headmaster has asked me to show you what it feels like to be at the mercy of such a powerful man."
Hermione's mouth ran dry. It felt as if all the warmth in the room had been sucked out. The professor's face was a stony mask of indifference, making her all the more hesitant. But she knew that she had to do it, she couldn't risk betraying her secret in the midst of being tortured.
She nodded, a single tilt of her head that was all Snape needed.
"Please avoid screaming if you can." said Snape. "Crucio."
She couldn't have hoped in her life to grant her professor's request. The pain was unlike any other that she had felt in her lifetime. It was sudden and all-consuming. She felt as if her blood had been lit on fire and her lungs were being robbed of all the air inside of them. Hermione screamed. She screamed so loud that she feared she had made herself deaf.
After five seconds, Snape dropped the spell, but to Hermione it had felt like an eternity. She lay on the floor, a pile of sweat and tears, her fingers twitching and her legs bent at an odd angle under her. Her chest was heaving rapidly, taking in as much air as she could, in her head, all she could think about is how to get rid of the pain that still somehow remained, as if it was clinging onto her bones.
"Imagine that, but a hundred times worse." said Snape. "The Dark Lord will not hold back like I did. You have been taught that a Cruciatus must be cast with every once of hate and anger you have in you. The Dark Lord has an endless supply of it."
Hermione could not find it in herself to nod. She just lay there on the floor, trying to wish the pain away.
Suddenly, a feeling came over her, as if a bucket of cool water had been splashed on her. Somehow, it relieved the trace of the Cruciatus off her, like it had washed the curse away. She sat up, looking at her professor in awe.
"Frigidus Sana." said Snape. "It's an old spell designed to cure burns and internal bleeding in the olden times. I found that it works well to counter the effects of the Torture curse."
Hermione nodded, already trying to ingrain the spell to her memory.
"That is all for tonight." said Snape. "You may go."
She stood quickly as the professor went back to sit behind his desk.
"Good night, Professor." she said, bowing her head respectfully, before backing out of the room.
When she returned to her room, her bed had a curious package on it, a rectangular box wrapped in gold with a small card attached.
"Well done." was written on it in graceful, curling script. She opened the box to find that it contained a small bar of chocolate and the pendant she had given to Snape for Dumbledore to inspect.
Hermione smirked bemusedly.
Albus Dumbledore was certainly an enigma in himself.
Hermione found herself visiting the library more than ever as exams approached, but with the way she had studied in advance for everything, she took the time to revise what she hand't already memorized in the first place, and to tutor some of her friends.
Blaise and Daphne had both come to her, tails between their legs, begging her to teach them. Hermione was enjoyed tutoring them though, as it gave her the chance to actually cement the information into her brain. Theo and Draco sometimes studied alongside her, as well as Pansy, who, to her surprise, was quite efficient in her Charms and Transfiguration work.
As though to underline the importance of their upcoming examinations, a batch of pamphlets, leaflets, and notices concerning various Wizarding careers appeared on the tables in Slytherin Dungeon shortly before the end of the holidays. Along with them came the appearance of a notice on the board, announcing the dates and times of the fifth year Career Advising.
Hermione was somewhat distraught to see that her appointment was on Monday, at half-past nine, which meant she had to miss out on about half of Ancient Runes. She wasted no time on browsing the brochures left out for them, careers such as Magizoologist and Dragon Keeper did not interest her in the least.
None of the Slytherins possessed much of an interest in a profession, most of them probably already had their lives planned out for them anyway. Blaise had shoved a brochure away from him one night, announcing that he would just end up taking over his family's accounts and estate.
Coming from old money, the most that they had to do was keep their money in their Gringotts accounts, and probably hope to add a significant amount to their fortunes. There were some, however, such as Daphne, who had taken a liking to the title of 'fashion designer'. Hermione was quite sure that her friend did not have an inch of artistic talent in her bones, but supported her none the less.
"You would be a great Healer, Hermione." Daphne said, glancing at the brochures on the table. "Or maybe a Magical Confectioner!"
Draco snorted. Hermione and Daphne both turned to look at him, as usual, he washing on the chaise lounge next to them, one arm propping him up, a book opened in front of him.
"Hermione's better off being a Curse Breaker at Gringotts than a sweets maker." he said.
"What do you mean? Hermione can't be that good at defensive spellwork." said Daphne, rolling her eyes.
Hermione sent a glare Draco's way, warning him to shut up. He shrugged, going back to his reading.
"I'm sure Draco just meant that I don't like candy very much, Daph." Hermione said.
"Oh, well that's true." she said, somewhat dejectedly. 'What are you going to do, then?"
"It's not like I have to do anything." Hermione said, flipping through a few brightly colored. "I always thought I'd master Potions, like my father"
"I can see that." her friend said. "Why don't you pursue it?"
"A lot can happen from now until the time I can do that." Hermione said vaguely.
She walked into Professor Snape's office at exactly half past nine on Monday. The office didn't seem any different than how it looked like at night, it was still as gloomy as ever, and the professor was in his usual seat behind his desk. The only difference was the set of brochures fanned out on the table, the brightly colored papers looking misplaced in the room.
"Sit down, Miss Dagworth-Granger." Snape said. "As you should know, this meeting is to talk over any career ideas you might have, and to help you decide which subjects you should continue into sixth and seventh years. Have you had any thoughts about what you would like to be doing in the future?"
"Counting in the possibility of my premature demise from now and graduation?" Hermione asked, sounding bored.
Snape seemed to find amusement in this, his mouth twisted in a smirk. "Yes, child."
"I haven't had any thoughts, no." she said. "I've been too busy learning how to be a Death Eater. Is that a career choice?"
"You aren't making my job any easier." said Snape. "Potential death aside, what would you want to be in the future?"
"Is 'alive' an option?" she asked.
"Miss Dagworth-Granger, just answer the question."
"Fine." she said. "I planned on being a Potions Apprentice under my father."
Snape nodded, writing something down on a sheet of paper. "I believe you know the qualifications needed to become a recognized Potions Master?"
"Minimum of seven NEWTS, nothing under Exceeds Expectations, and an Outstanding grade in Potions and Herbology." she said, ticking the items off her fingers.
"Your credentials are more than enough to allow you that already, if you proceed at this rate." Snape said. "If you have any questions regarding the matter, feel free to approach me."
Hermione nodded, picking up her school bag, ready to leave.
"Miss Dagworth-Granger," said Snape, stopping her just as she was at the door. "Headmaster Dumbledore would think that this would be the right time to say that one should not lose hope for the future just because the present seems bleak."
Hermione stared at the man blankly for a moment before nodding and walking away, his words ringing in her head.
It happened just as they were dismissed from Charms. There was a loud bang from somewhere down the hall from their class room, followed shouts and yells. Hermione tensed, her hand going into her pocket immediately, grabbing the hilt of her wand.
The class rushed out of the room, along with a frantic looking Professor Flitwick. It turned out to be another one of the Weasley twins' antics. When she finally saw what was causing the commotion, she could not stop the amused smile from spreading across her face.
The twins had somehow caused a large portion of the fifth corridor on the castle's east wing to turn into a swamp, complete with various creatures emerging from its murky waters. The students quickly turned back, making their way to the entrance hall, where several people seemed to be gathered.
Fred and George Weasley were in the middle of the crowd, grinning widely, tossing a few brightly colored packages to several students. Professor Umbridge was pointing her wand at the twins, who seemed nonplussed by the fact that they had been cornered.
"So . . . you think it amusing to turn a school corridor into a swamp, do you?"
"Pretty amusing, yeah," said Fred, looking back up at her without the slightest sign of fear.
"You two," Umbridge said, seething in anger, "are going to learn what happens to wrongdoers in my school."
"You know what?" said Fred. "I don't think we are." He turned to his twin.
"George," said Fred, "I think we've outgrown full-time education."
"Yeah, I've been feeling that way myself," said George lightly.
"Time to test our talents in the real world, d'you reckon?" asked Fred.
"Definitely," said George.
The two raised their wands together, ignoring Umbridge entirely, and said together, "Accio Brooms!"
Hermione heard a loud crash from the distance, and somewhere from her right, a pair of broomsticks, one still trailing the heavy chain and iron peg with which Umbridge had fastened them to the wall, were hurtling along the corridor toward their owners.
"Don't bother keeping in touch." said George, mounting his broom.
Fred looked around at the assembled students, and at the silent, watchful crowd. "If anyone fancies buying a Portable Swamp, as demonstrated upstairs, come to number ninety-three, Diagon Alley — Weasleys' Wizarding Wheezes," he said in a loud voice. "Our new premises!"
"Special discounts to Hogwarts students who swear they're going to use our products to get rid of this old bat," added George, pointing at Professor Umbridge.
By the time Umbridge began yelling her head off at several members of the Inquisitorial Squad to stop the twins, Fred and George kicked off from the floor, shooting fifteen feet into the air. The two wheeled about to tumultuous applause from the students below and sped out of the open front doors into the glorious sunset.
"You can't say they aren't brilliant." Hermione said over an Arithmancy book later that night.
"Brilliant, are they?" sneered Draco, "They're still a couple off blood traitors."
"I didn't say they weren't." she said, rolling her eyes. "You've got to admit they're quiet talented, though."
They were alone in the common rooms, it was late on a Thursday night, so everyone else was already fast asleep. When Daphne had finally announced she was done with Potions, Hermione had chosen to stay for a little longer, as had Draco. The two were now doing their own reading, Hermione had moved to lean back on the chaise lounge where Draco was laying, warming herself by the fire.
"Do you fancy one of them or something?" asked Draco, sounding annoyed.
Hermione laughed, "Of course not, they're Weasleys."
"If they weren't?" he pushed.
"Much too high-spirited." she said, brushing the thought away, "Have you heard of Apollonius's Theorem of Plane Geometry? I don't understand the equation relating to Pluto —"
She had turned her head to find than Draco was looking at her intently, his stormy grey eyes glaring at the place where she had her head turned.
"What?" she asked, frowning. "Has my hair come out of my plait?"
He seemed to realize she had noticed him staring, quickly looking back down at his open book. "No, it's nothing. You're perfect — I mean, your hair, your hair is perfect."
Draco looked flustered, which was an expression she rarely saw on his face.
"What's wrong, Draco?" she asked, laying a hand on his arm in concern.
"It's nothing." he said, quickly sitting upright, "I'm tired. I should get to bed. You should too."
He stood up abruptly, gathering his things. "Good night, Hermione."
He left her that way, staring at where he had been moments before, confused and sitting on the floor of an empty room.
a/n: I'm too excited to get started on Half-blood Prince.