Recommendation: This chapter's recommended fic is "I have an Idea, Harry" by Cloud Zen. Harry needs to be careful about what he says around Hermione, because even the most innocuous comments can lead to wild ideas for her... ideas that revolutionize the world, no less. H/Hr.


Chapter 53 - You Say You Want a Revolution?

Monday, March 22, 1995, Early Morning.

The Gatekeeper practically stomped the entire way to the office. Never before has there been a call requiring me to go into work so early in the morning, the powerful goblin thought, hours before I normally even wake up, never mind leave for the office. This had better be a legitimate, Honest-to-Goddess emergency, or I swear I'll start refurbishing the Bet Bel's old dungeon and torture chamber in preparation for receiving some new guests!

All pleasant thoughts about torturing annoying assistants who woke goblins up at horribly early hours vanished once the Gatekeeper saw the new file that was lying on the desk. It took nearly an hour to read it through twice, then another hour to cross reference some of the information with other files. Now possessing a reasonably complete picture of the situation, the Gatekeeper leaned back with closed eyes, taking several deep breaths to achieve a measure of calm. It wouldn't do to pull the old axe off the back wall and start destroying the furniture in a fit of bloodlust.

Voldemort! And what they reportedly did to that young witch—

No, be calm, breathe deeply….

It helped to focus on practical matters. The reason why she had been entered into that bizarre tournament now seemed clear, but the veela interest in her was still a mystery. They certainly have no desire to see him come to power, but it's a British issue, and they have no interests in Britain. Well, until now with those two witches. Could they be preparing to make a political or economic move on Britain? Unlikely. They'd pick different representatives... probably. There is some value in going first to younger people who have yet to establish any allegiances. Forming such a relationship with the famous Girl Who Lived and an intelligent muggleborn might mean they are playing a very long game.

Alternatively, the Gatekeeper considered, they could be worried that Voldemort will win in Britain and spread quickly to France. Could they be acting preemptively against a guaranteed foe?

The Gatekeeper's eyes snapped open upon reaching that conclusion. Britain was about to be embroiled in a magical civil war, of that there was no doubt. The only question was how quickly it would develop. That would impact banking interests and require some significant financial shifts. If the veela were making a move, however, that would involve more than just the bank.

It had been a long, long time since the veela had armed themselves for war, and if that's what was happening, the Goblin Nation would have to follow suit. Even though they themselves were surely not going to be targeted, it was the prudent thing to do. If nothing else, anything that threatened the veela that much was also a threat to the goblins... and that arguably described Voldemort, at least when it came to the British branch of Gringotts.

It's too soon to begin assembling the Horde, though, the Gatekeeper decided. I could be wrong about this, and once something like that is started it can take on a life of its own. Wars have started simply because the troops had been gathered and the commanders in charge panicked. I won't recommend that we start down a path to war without being a whole lot more sure of my conclusions.

That only left one option, which was to call an emergency meeting of the Bet Bel. The Gatekeeper had already arranged to have this topic addressed at the next regular session, but a special session would now be needed.


Monday, March 22, 1995, Afternoon.

Fleur listened to her sister's contented purring as they snuggled together on the couch. Now that the ritual was over, Gabrielle was clearly enjoying being reunited with her family. All around them, the room was filled with relaxed, happy veela, lounging and cuddling. Even the Amazzi were looking relaxed and content. Normally they'd have been standing guard at the door because Amazzi are never truly "off duty," but the sheer power of the ritual yesterday had been so great that the stern and imposing veela warriors had been thrown for a loop.

"Adrienne?" her mother asked, "whatever possessed you to ask those two to serve in the role of the goddesses? I thought it had been agreed that you and I would do it?"

"I don't care where the idea came from," Phoebe declared, "just so long as you keep getting ideas like that — and keep speaking up when you do!" This produced laughter and a chorus of agreement from around the room, but Fleur's mother was not deterred.

"Well?" she asked as she looked down at the blonde head in her lap which she had been gently stroking.

Adrienne sighed and responded, "I honestly don't know. It just came to me and seemed like the right thing to do. I knew that Miss Potter was in need of healing and thought that representing one of the goddesses would help. I also thought that it would help both of them to feel more comfortable around us in the long run if they could participate more actively in what we do. It... well, it all seemed reasonable. But I don't know why the idea originally came to me."

"One of the goddesses, perhaps?" came a suggestion from one of the veela guests.

"I've never heard of that happening," Apolline said, "but we're deep into very ancient and powerful magics here. There's the prophecy, the special bond between those two witches, the ritual itself... I guess we can't really exclude anything at this point."

"Like I said, I don't care," Phoebe said. "I can't begin to count how many ritual celebrations I've participated in over the years, but I've never experienced anything like that before. The build up, the wave of magic that engulfed us at the end, and then afterwards.… It's like the goddesses were right there with us, filling us with power and magic."

"It's a good thing the centaurs were so understanding," Fleur said. In truth, the centaurs had been shocked at what they discovered and had probably been so accommodating because they had no idea what else to do in that situation.

"Indeed," Adrienne said dryly. "I've never even heard of a communion lasting that long."

"I'm surprised we lasted that long," Apolline added. "Twenty-four hours has got to be a record, no matter what the circumstances."

"Yet I don't feel tired," Phoebe said. "I feel... relaxed. But also invigorated. Powerful. Like I could do anything right now, though I don't feel a burning urge to actually do anything. And there's a tingling sensation all over, too." She sighed. "Regardless, those two witches were amazing. I have no idea why you suggested them or how they did that. All I know is, I'd follow them anywhere."

Everyone went still as silence descended on the room. Adrienne sat up abruptly from Apolline's lap and looked hard at the two Amazzi — warriors whose dedication and loyalty were so incorruptible as to be beyond question.

"Phoebe?" the other Amazzi, Areto, asked with a touch of concern in her voice. They stared at each other in confusion, then Areto nodded and said, "You're right, I feel it too."

Everyone started looking around at each other, realization sinking in that something very fundamental had shifted for all of them.


"Mother!" came Sirius' voice from the kitchen.

"Sirius," she responded wearily, "I told you to leave me be…." And she had, because she was starting to feel overwhelmed with the amount of information she'd had to absorb recently. She didn't know if it was because she was in a portrait now, but she found that she needed to rest and even sleep regularly in order to properly organize her thoughts.

And oh, how she missed being able to have a cup of tea!

"No, Mother, this is important," Sirius said insistently as he held out a letter. "I've finally heard from Jasmine about what happened to her. Phineas was right, it's Voldemort. He's back, and he used my goddaughter in some sort of black ritual to regain a body!"

Walburga quailed at that news. "I had hoped that Jasmine Dorea's stories about the Dark Lord still being alive and seeking a body had been… well, the product of an overly excitable imagination."

"I'll confess that I did as well," Sirius said.

"Tell me everything," she commanded, and he did. Jasmine's letter was amazingly thorough... or perhaps "disturbingly" so, given how awful her experiences were. Sirius had to pause more than once to collect himself, and Walburga didn't blame him.

When he was done she had him fetch Phineas, who was able to report about what Dumbledore had been doing over the past few days to gather supporters for opposing Voldemort, even though he had to be cautious about who could be told the full truth. He was also able to give them the headmaster's perspective on the punishments which Jasmine and Draco Malfoy had received for their altercation, something else that was in the letter and which Sirius had been waiting to hear about.

"I think we'll have to start moving our plans forward," Walburga finally announced.

"Plans?" Sirius asked. "We, uh, have plans?"

"Of course we do," Walburga answered. "We are Blacks — we always have plans, plots, and schemes. In you, they simply manifest themselves as childish pranks."

Sirius couldn't help grinning at that — it almost sounded like a compliment. "And what sorts of plans are we moving forward, Mother dearest?

Scowling, she responded, "The sorts of plans that will protect your goddaughter and secure her a better place in our society while helping her strike down her enemies, the Dark Lord chief among them."

"I like the sound of that," Sirius said, "but I'd want to hear the details first." He wasn't sure he liked the evil smile that appeared on the portrait's face, but as far as he knew, she hadn't steered him wrong yet.


Tuesday, March 23, 1995, Evening.

When Jasmine entered the Transfiguration classroom for her detention, accompanied, of course, by Hermione, the surprise on her face when she saw Professor Flitwick sitting there with Professor McGonagall was quite evident. "Are we interrupting something?" she asked. "Should we wait outside?"

"No, no, my dear Miss Potter," Flitwick said in his usual jovial voice, happy to finally have this conversation. "I'm here to see you. I thought that since you had to be here anyway, this would be a good time to talk to you in private and without interrupting your schedule."

The two Gryffindor witches seated themselves at a pair of desks up front while Flitwick sat up on the edge of the teacher's desk and McGonagall sealed and silenced the door. Jasmine and Hermione looked at each other in confusion, clearly growing concerned at what this might be about.

"You two have nothing to worry about, nothing at all," Flitwick reassured them. "I was hoping to talk to you, Miss Potter, about your fight in the graveyard. We can do it with or without Miss Granger present, it's entirely up to you." Seeing the distress on her face, he continued, "I know that you've gone through your story twice already, but I'd like to approach it from a different and hopefully more productive direction."

At her puzzled expression, he explained, "Your first run-through was for the DMLE, yes? They were looking for evidence to solve a case. And I'm guessing that your second with your friends was just letting them know what happened?" Jasmine nodded. "I'd like to approach the fight as your teacher — specifically, I'd like to treat the incident as a teaching experience, discussing what you did right, what you did wrong, and what you could have done differently."

"This probably won't be the last time you'll have a fight like that," McGonagall said sadly, "but the more you learn from your fights now, the better you'll be able to survive future encounters."

"Indeed," Flitwick said, "and the sooner the better — while the details are still fresh. But if it's too much for you right now, we can put it off." He stopped then and waited to see how the auburn-haired witch would react. He observed a series of emotions move across her face: discomfort, fear, worry, and finally resignation. When Miss Granger took her hand, though, she seemed to straighten a little and find her courage.

"OK, Professor," she said. "Where do you want me to start?"

Flitwick smiled, glad that she was willing to do this despite how difficult it obviously was for her. He knew that retelling the story would eventually help her get past the emotional trauma. He also knew that discussing her choices would help ensure that she didn't get caught up too much in pondering "what ifs," something that could incapacitate her in the future.

"Let's start at the beginning, when you woke up the first time," Flitwick said. "But instead of just telling me what you did, we'll review why you chose to take some particular action, or instead chose to not act. And remember, you did make it out of there alive, which is the most important thing. So even if there were times that you could have made a better choice, you still chose well enough in the end."

Jasmine gave a wan smile at his reassurances, and with her girlfriend holding her hand, she once more recounted her experiences after being kidnapped. This time, though, she found that she didn't mind it so much. While never as analytical or academic as Hermione, she discovered that analyzing her decisions with the help of her professors did indeed reduce the impact of the events, giving her some emotional distance she very much needed.


Wednesday, March 24, 1995, Afternoon.

Hellraiser II rhythmically tapped her long, sharp, manicured claws against the surface of the massive obsidian table. Meetings of the Bet Bel were usually quite important, but she had little patience for being called in for an emergency session like this — especially without being informed in advance about what was so important that it required such measures. Only the Gatekeeper and the Queen herself had the authority to call emergency sessions, and it was a power her subordinate had invoked only once before. As the Gatekeeper was one of her most trusted lieutenants, she knew it had to be a serious matter, but that didn't mean she enjoyed being kept in the dark like this.

Hellraiser stopped her tapping as she saw the last of the members of the Bet Bel file in, releasing the guards to step back into the hall and shut the double doors behind them. The Gatekeeper approached the doors and pressed her hand against the Council seal that was carved into them, half on one door and half on the other. As she did so, the seal glowed and the two doors fused into one, then merged into the surrounding rock wall.

Turning to the table where the council members had taken their seats, she announced, "Honored members of the Bet Bel, Your Majesty, the room is now sealed. We are secure from all forms of eavesdropping or communication. Nothing can get in or out. We may begin."

Hellraiser nodded and picked up the ancient, fist-sized rock and banged it against the table three times. A smooth sphere that was polished so highly that it shone back her reflection, it was made from a solid piece of metal that was said to have fallen from the sky; it had served this ritual function for as long as the Bet Bel had existed, back before humans even walked the surface in their current form. "I call this emergency session of the Bet Bel to order."

With the formalities concluded, she addressed the Gatekeeper directly. "Gatekeeper, you called us here today," she said slowly. "It's only the second time you've ever done that. The first was in 1973 when the muggle nations in the Middle East announced an oil embargo against other muggle nations. I trust this has at least as much importance to our bottom line?"

"Yes, my Queen," the Gatekeeper said as she met the gazes of the councilmembers around her. "The crisis we may be facing has the potential to be even more serious. It goes well beyond a few muggles squabbling over resources and threatens to impact us directly. Worst-case scenario: the Goblin Nation will be at war."

That got everyone's attention.

"I need to explain to you all several seemingly disparate sets of facts, all of which are interesting and in some cases even significant but which, when taken together, paint a potentially disturbing picture of our future." The Gatekeeper then passed around parchment with an outline of events and proceeded to tell about Voldemort's return in Britain, the unwilling involvement of a witch named Jasmine Potter, the curious relationship she seemed to have with a muggleborn witch named Hermione Granger, and the inexplicable involvement of the veela with both girls.

Added to all of that was further information relating to the veela which she'd been able to dig up, the most important of which was a sharp increase in orders for goblin weapons and armor, particularly those types known to be favored by veela warriors, and an even bigger increase in veela diplomatic activity with all of the nations where veela had enclaves of any size.

The room was quiet as everyone digested the news and pored over the outline.

"Conclusions, Gatekeeper?" asked Sharpaxe, the lone male goblin in the room and a representative for their military and security forces. Since the Gatekeeper had been collecting data on this for a while and was the most familiar with all the details, they would listen to her opinions first.

"There are two potential worst-case scenarios," she responded. "The first is that the veela are making a major move on Great Britain, a nation where to the best of our knowledge they have never tried to develop political or economic interests, at least not in the past thousand years."

"Those harpies haven't done anything like that in millennia!" objected Cildfestre, representative for the healers.

"Indeed," the Gatekeeper agreed, "which is why I deem that the less likely of the two. The second is that Voldemort will be successful in taking over magical Britain, and perhaps even muggle Britain, then turn his attention to conquest elsewhere. The veela have somehow become aware that this is very likely, perhaps through the Potter witch, and are moving to stop him early — again, perhaps by using the Potter witch, since she is supposed to have done exactly that once before, though I imagine that they might use their own forces to engage Voldemort's followers."

There were several nods around the table as various goblins agreed that this scenario seemed disturbingly plausible, even if it were uncharacteristic of the veela to stick their feathered necks out so far.

"Is that also the most likely scenario," Faegrian, representative for the jewelsmiths asked, "or are there other, less terrible scenarios that you anticipate coming to pass?"

"I am reluctant to label it the most likely. It seems implausible that the veela would come into possession of intelligence that could cause them to see Voldemort's victory as so likely that they would intervene," the Gatekeeper answered. "On the other hand, any alternatives assume that the veela have come into some other unknown intelligence that is equally important — so important that they are behaving in a very uncharacteristic manner."

"So what the veela are doing," summarized Blostm, "depends entirely on some bit of intelligence which they seem to have discovered, but which we are ignorant about."

"Exactly," the Gatekeeper replied. "If we knew what this information was, then we'd be able to form more accurate conclusions about their intentions. Right now, all we can do is guess… and our guesses may not be correct."

Everyone in the room began arguing about what the mysterious information could be or how the goblins might be able to acquire it. Hellraiser II, however, remained still and kept her eyes on the Gatekeeper, noting that her posture spoke of nervousness and uncertainty. She'd known the Gatekeeper for decades, long before she had even become the Gatekeeper, and had rarely seen her this nervous.

The goblin ruler raised one hand, silently commanding everyone to stop. Once the room was quiet, she leaned forward very slightly and said, "I take it that you have a suggestion for us, Gatekeeper?"

As all eyes shifted to her, she answered, "Yes, I do. We have no spies or intelligence sources among the veela, which means we have no information on what their current leadership is like, their present military readiness, or what any of their long-term goals might be. We have one intelligence source in Hogwarts, but that is limited. We have a business relationship with the witches, but it is quite new. We have no idea if they even know anything important." She looked around, noting how annoyed everyone was to be reminded about what they didn't have.

"So," she continued, "I propose that we get the information directly from the bird's beak, so to speak." Observing the confusion around the table, she added, "I propose that we simply ask them. We send a special envoy, point out what we've observed, note that some of the possible explanations would be perceived as threats to the Goblin Nation, and ask if they'd be willing to share their reasons for what they are doing."

The storm of protest was swift and vehement. "An emissary?" demanded one member incredulously. "Ask for information? Like a beggar?" seethed another. No one seemed to think much of the suggestion, but Hellraiser II didn't join in any of the debate. Instead, she simply sat there in thoughtful silence.

After letting the Bet Bel argue for a few minutes, she once more raised her hand to command attention. In the stillness that followed, she looked at the Gatekeeper and asked, "Why would they bother? What would be in it for them to share any information with us?"

"If they flat out refuse to even consider sharing information," the Gatekeeper answered, "then that might qualify as evidence that their intentions are contrary to our interests." Seeing many nods of agreement, she continued, "Our emissary should make it clear that we aren't simply assuming their hostility, however. Instead, she should communicate our desire to form a partnership if, in fact, there is some problem that would affect both our nations."

Hellraiser nodded slowly and said, "If it really is a serious threat, they may welcome our help and share the information in order to get it. If they consider it then decline, it may not be a serious threat to us, but they may be trying to hoard potential profits for themselves."

"It has been over a century since we've sent any sort of ambassador to the veela," Blostm pointed out. "Our commercial exchanges haven't required it, and they haven't initiated any direct contact with us, so they may not receive anyone we send. If they do, however, then simply having someone there may provide important information — not just on this matter, but on others as well."

"I don't like the idea of debasing ourselves, going before them like supplicants," objected Gaersum, representative of the curse breakers. "But they are worthy competitors, and an offer of partnership has a better ring to it." She turned to the Gatekeeper and said, "That is a fair idea, and while I am not optimistic that it will achieve anything, I doubt it can hurt, either."

The proposal continued to be debated until long into the night, but the hours were well spent because they not only agreed on the Gatekeeper's proposal, but also who would be sent and what exactly their mandate would be. It was a significant shift in Goblin foreign policy and one that would be remembered for centuries to come.


Thursday, March 25, 1995, Evening.

When Jasmine and Hermione entered the Transfiguration classroom for Jasmine's detention with Professor McGonagall, they were greeted with a most unexpected sight: their entire study group was there waiting for them. The two Gryffindor witches stopped just inside the door in obvious confusion.

"Well, come on in," McGonagall said. "We can't get started until the door is sealed and silenced."

"Get started with what?" Jasmine asked when she and Hermione moved to the front of the room.

"With our study group, for one thing," Daphne said as she walked up to Jasmine and embraced her — an act that was surprising for the usually reserved Slytherin, yet this was the second hug Jasmine had received from her. "We're all so glad that you're alright and weren't punished too severely," she said softly before she stepped back.

"Your friends approached me about how important the study group has been and how empty it seemed to be on Tuesday without the two of you there," McGonagall said. "So I thought that it would be a good idea to continue it here instead. Detentions aren't supposed to negatively impact your academic efforts, after all."

"As a cover, though, we all have detention as well," Padma said with a sly smile.

"You said, 'first.' What else is there?" Hermione asked.

"We have an opportunity right now, but we need you if we're going to take advantage of it," Tracey said.

"What opportunity?" Jasmine asked suspiciously.

"Things are changing here at Hogwarts," Susan answered, "and you're at the center of it all."

"There was a huge upswell of support for you in all four houses — yes, even Slytherin — when people heard about the fight between you and Draco," Daphne said. "Didn't you wonder how and why that happened?"

"Yes, actually," Hermione answered. "We couldn't figure out what was going on because, last we heard, no one liked us — first the tournament, then Skeeter's article."

Tracey nodded. "That's all true, but something happened a couple of weeks ago which changed everything."

Both Gryffindor witches looked puzzled, then Hermione said excitedly, "The books! We did those two weeks ago!"

"But why would that change everyone's mind about me?" Jasmine asked. "All I did was duplicate them. Hermione duplicated just as many, and it was her mother who sent them here."

Hannah simply handed over an open book to them, showing them for the first time the badge which Daphne had created for the inside front cover. Both witches stared at the badge, mouths hanging open, then Hannah reached in with her wand and tapped the badge, causing it to switch from "Girl Who Lived tested and approved!" to "I give it an Outstanding! — Jasmine Potter."

Jasmine slowly lifted her head to look at the others. When she saw Daphne's unabashed expression, she knew exactly who to blame. "You..." she started, before Hermione put a hand on her arm and stopped her.

"Hang on," Hermione said. "Maybe this isn't so bad."

"Not so bad?!" Jasmine demanded.

"Told you so," Blaise muttered under his breath.

"Look," Hermione said, "it's not technically false — you did approve of the books. Also, I take it that everyone has been seeing these, and since they like the books, that approval has transferred over to Jasmine?"

"Exactly," Daphne responded, glad that one of them at least understood. "There are a large number of witches in this castle who now look up to you — not because you're the Girl Who Lived, but because you're a witch who is standing up for equality, safety, and education for other witches. These books are educating witches about their own bodies and teaching them how to look more critically at what society, parents, and wizards expect from them."

"The muggle term is 'consciousness raising,' I think," Hermione said. When everyone looked at her in confusion, she added, "They're becoming aware that how they are treated isn't right and needs to change."

"And they look to you as the reason for this," Susan said.

"The opportunity is that they are now ready to begin looking to you for the next step," Daphne said, "which is making that change."

"Whoa!" Jasmine protested, "I'm not..."

"We'd like to start a new group," Padma said over Jasmine's objection. "This study group would be the core, and you of course would be at the center, but it would include far more people — mostly witches, but there is some support from wizards, too."

"No, you don't understand," Jasmine insisted desperately, "I can't…."

"It's not like you'd have to do everything, obviously," Daphne said. "But the witches here will be much more likely to participate if they think that the group stands a chance of accomplishing something. That means we need you. You already have a history of accomplishing great things against impossible odds, and right now everyone is thinking about how you stood up against Malfoy."

Jasmine sat heavily in the nearest chair. She wanted to keep protesting, she really did; but when Daphne pointed out that other witches needed hope and that she could provide that hope, she felt her resistance to the idea start to crumble. She hated being the center of attention, and while she was working on dealing with that, she still preferred situations where she was given more of a choice. Even worse, she hated having that sort of responsibility dumped on her shoulders. However, if she walked away now, would that mean she was dooming the group to failure before it even got started?

"What do you think about all of this, Professor?" Hermione asked with a frown.

"I have many different reactions," McGonagall said with a sigh. "As one of your professors, I should be adamantly opposed to such challenges to how our society is structured and managed. I should probably go so far as report the lot of you to the Board of Governors and your parents." Before any of them could protest, she held up her hand reassuringly and said, "I'm not going to, but you should know that this is how most professors, staff, and other adults will likely react."

Once everyone calmed down somewhat, she continued, "Another reaction I have is a bit of worry. You want to change things — fundamental things about our culture. What will you put in place of the things you want to alter or eliminate? Are you sure that what you intend to do will actually be an improvement?" She paused for a moment, then looked pointedly at Hermione before saying, "However evil something appears to be right now, you shouldn't leap to tear it down without knowing for sure that you won't end up with something worse." Hermione nodded, remembering their discussion about the house elves.

"Finally," McGonagall said, "I feel a sense of anticipation and excitement. I haven't seen such fervent concern with our culture and politics among young people in a long, long time. Even if you were misguided in your goals, your passion would be commendable, but I think that many of your goals may be right. I'm curious about how you would improve our society, even as I'm cautious and fear that you could possibly make things worse. What we have now has, after all, worked for quite a while."

"It works far better for some than for others," Daphne pointed out. "Wealthy, pureblood wizards like Malfoy think it works wonderfully. And for them, it does. I think it should work just as well for the rest of us." McGonagall nodded, conceding that the blonde witch had a very good point.

"I... I'll think about it," Jasmine finally said, getting uncomfortable at how many people were looking at her expectantly for some sort of answer. "I'm not making any promises, but I'll think about it."

"I have a concern," Hermione jumped in to say. When she had the others' attention, she continued, "It seems to me that such a group could easily lose focus and fail because it tried to do too much. So before we think seriously about starting it, much less get Jasmine involved, we should find out what others actually expect, want, or need."

"How?" Padma asked.

Hermione took out a piece of parchment, wrote down several things, then said, "This is a list of some of the goals a group like this might have: educating witches, promoting equality for witches, that sort of thing." Hermione duplicated the parchment several times and handed out the copies. "Talk to the students in your houses that you think might be interested and ask them what they'd want out of such a group. Use the list as a starting point to find out what they think. If what people expect is all over the place, then you'll need to change that before a group can be created. A successful group is one that's focused on specific, achievable goals or principles."

It took a bit of convincing, but Hermione was eventually able to get the others to understand why a focused purpose would help make the group more successful in the long run. It was an important and necessary step, but it was also one that she hoped would slow things down enough to give Jasmine a chance to come to terms with what was being asked of her.


Thursday, March 25, 1995, Night.

Peter Pettigrew looked around at the miserable space he'd been given to sleep in and sighed. It was better than the bit of floor he'd been forced to use at that old muggle manor, but not by much — especially considering the fact that he was now living in a grand, pureblood manor with his master. Peter had allowed himself to dream that once he'd successfully brought the Dark Lord back, he'd be rewarded — wealth, witches, power, witches, good food, and more witches.

All the things he'd been denied while at Hogwarts and which should have been his now, but weren't.

And why? He blamed that bint, Potter. When she had escaped, the Dark Lord flew into such a rage that no one was safe from his wrath, especially poor little Wormtail. Had she just accepted her fate like she was supposed to, then everyone would have been rewarded — and him most of all, surely. So it was her fault that things weren't going his way, just as it had been James and Lily's fault that he was constantly belittled and ignored at Hogwarts.

Like mother, like daughter, he concluded bitterly.

If only there was some way I could capture her myself, he thought, then I'd have my rightful place here and get my just rewards.


Friday, March 26, 1995, Night.

It had been many hours since they'd practiced cheering charms in class that morning, but Jasmine and Hermione were still prone to fits of giggles every so often. It was clear that they'd done a poor job of toning down the power they'd used, but since they couldn't explain that to anyone, they had to let both students and teachers think that the two witches were just very giggly that day, something that was completely out of character for them. They were just lucky that they hadn't had Potions.

Holding on tight to her emotions lest a new Giggle Loop begin, Hermione looked at the witch sitting across from her on her bed and asked, "It's been a day now. Have you given much thought to the proposal that the study group made?"

"You mean, for that new group they wanted to create?" Jasmine asked. "I thought there was no point in worrying about that until they found out whether it's worth bothering with or not."

Hermione sighed in exasperation and said, "Jasmine, I suspect that most of those asked will have similar goals and expectations for such a group. They're all working from the same set of books which they just read, so I doubt they'll be all over the place in what they want."

"Then... why did you have the others investigate?" Jasmine asked, completely bewildered.

"Aside from just being sure in case I'm wrong?" Hermione asked, getting annoyed. "I was buying you time to think because I know they're asking a lot. I thought you'd spend the time thinking seriously about this, but I guess I was mistaken."

Jasmine held up her hands in surrender. "I'm sorry, I'm sorry. I didn't know. I figured… well, I guess I hoped that I wouldn't have to make a decision because so many different witches couldn't possibly all agree, right?"

Hermione's expression softened considerably at that. "OK, you've got a point. Under other circumstances, you probably would stand a good chance of being spared. Or maybe not, and maybe our study friends would still move forward and just start with a smaller organization."

Jasmine's face fell even more at that idea. "So, I'm pretty much guaranteed to be completely buggered here?"

"Pretty much," her girlfriend responded.

"Ugh," Jasmine complained, now having managed to overwhelm the cheering charm entirely. "I can't believe that they'd ask me to do that."

"Why not?" Hermione asked, genuinely confused.

"Why not?" Jasmine repeated a little heatedly. "It only represents almost everything that I hate about how I'm treated in the magical world. It turns me into a symbol, just without the nifty scar to go along with it. It garners me lots of extra attention, both negative and positive, and you know how I hate attention. It's people expecting me to fight the sins of a society that I've never felt a part of — sins that I didn't help create, but for some reason am expected to solve. All they need to do is toss in a couple of dead parents and the parallel would be perfect!"

"Jasmine," Hermione jumped in to say, "It's not really as bad as…."

"Oh, and on top of it all," Jasmine continued as if Hermione hadn't said a thing, "that first problem that I supposedly already dealt with? Voldemort? Yeah, he just happens to have come back. And he's after me in particular, so I guess I'm supposed to fit reforming magical society into my tea breaks while I'm running for my life from a dark lord."

Hermione gaped at Jasmine's rant, not having expected all of this, but realizing now that she probably should have.

"Out of everyone, Hermione, I expected you at least to understand and be on my side."

"But... but... I am…" Hermione tried to say, but Jasmine had stopped listening to her.

"You know what, I'm going to bed," Jasmine abruptly declared and left.

"But... I am on your side," Hermione said in a small voice to the now-empty space beside her.