Hello!
As always, thank you to everyone still reading, an extra special thank you to everyone who reviews, and THANK YOU to my lovely editor who makes this fic fit for human consumption.
This is the part of the story I have been wanting to share with you guys for such a long time. I really hope you like it!
I just wanna remind everyone again that this *is* a three part chapter, which means updates will be coming more regularly until all three parts are out.
Read on, and enjoy!
The flurry of potion-making was over, and Hermione found herself more at peace, more relaxed, than she had been for some time.
Hard, satisfying work had that effect on her. When Lucius had suggested the potion, he'd unknowingly given her something to take her mind off of the cruelty of Ron's letter long enough to process it and figure out what she needed to do about it.
The fact that she'd destroyed the letter in a fit of rage made it hard to be sure, but Hermione prided herself on her memory. And honestly, something like that was very difficult to forget. Ron had pretty strongly implied that he was going to try to get in the way of her seeing Amelia. At the very least, he was specifically exerting his control to stop her from seeing her as freely as she would like.
Hermione could let a lot of things slide, these days. She was only a few years away from thirty, after all. She had a career, she had a reputation, and she had responsibilities. But there were some things that were just unforgivable, and trying to sabotage her relationship with her god-child was one of them.
Hermione had been in the delivery room with Ginny and Harry while Ron had been throwing up in the hallway. She had been there for Amelia's first accidental magic, had helped her learn to put her shoes on. She wasn't about to be cut out of her own god-daughter's life by her ex-boyfriend, of all people.
She had to act on this now. Unfortunately, she also had aspirations that meant that she couldn't just do whatever she liked, which meant she couldn't just do what Ron had accused her of doing, and hex him, though it probably would have been the most satisfying course of action.
After a great deal of thought, Hermione decided that the best solution might just be the simplest one. She'd have an open, honest conversation with Ginny about Ron and Molly's decision to ban her from the Burrow. Maybe Ginny could talk some sense into the pair of them. At the very least, she couldn't have Ginny thinking that this was happening by her own choice.
Hermione Floo'd her, just in case. There was one rule that applied in both the wizarding world and the muggle world; never drop in on the parents of very young children uninvited. It was just plain rude.
Still, head-only Floo'ing was probably her least favourite of all the wizarding ways of talking at a distance. She'd acclimatised to the wizarding world quite well, but thrusting her head into a burning fireplace was never pleasant.
Luckily, today was cold enough that they had a fire going even though it was early in the afternoon. It was November, after all. This meant that when Hermione stuck her head through the fireplace, she didn't see the blackness of a stilled fire, but a strangely flickering version of Ginny and Harry's front room.
Ginny and Harry had made their home in Godric's Hollow, in the rebuilt wreckage of the original Potter residence. The three bedroom cottage provided ample space for the young family, particularly since neither of them had been used to having much growing up. It was cosy and very normal looking, with only a few signs that it was home to a wizarding family. The Quidditch posters on the wall were a dead giveaway, as was the small family of Pygmy Puffs squeaking and rolling around on the carpet.
The room looked like a bomb had hit it, but that was nothing unusual.
Little Amelia, looking very sweet in a pair of dungarees and a bright yellow t-shirt, just so happened to be in the living room, industrially smacking a train set into a table leg. Her god-daughter saw her and yelled 'Her-my-me' at the top of her lungs. Hermione started pulling silly faces, and the toddler was squealing with laughter by the time Ginny came into the living room.
Ginny sat down cross legged in front of the fire and pulled her daughter into her lap. The redhead looked happy to see her. "Hermione. It's good you've called, I've been hearing some really weird rumours and I wanted to hear it from you-"
Rumours? Hermione couldn't let them get sidetracked, but she made a mental note to ask about them later.
"Look, Ginny, I've got something important to tell you. Is Harry home?"
Ginny looked curious and set Amelia in the direction of the Pygmy Puffs, where the toddler happily threw herself down and started stacking them into a great pink, lavender and purple pyramid. They didn't seem to mind.
"No, he's at work." Ginny replied. "The Aurors are being run ragged with… you know. Is everything okay?"
"Not really, Ginny. It's… well, it's a bit awkward."
Ginny's entire demeanour changed. From open and cheeky to flat and guarded.
"What's he done?"
Her tone made it very clear exactly who she was talking about. There was really only one person they both knew that had the ability to make Hermione Granger feel uncomfortable.
Hermione braced herself. There was a chance that Ginny would take her brother's side, so she had to make it clear that she wasn't asking Ginny to pick sides. "Well, Ron and I won't be speaking to one another from now on, which I think is only for the best, obviously- but then he said something about Amelia that sort of bothered me."
"What do you mean?" Ginny was frowning now. Hard.
Hermione went for it. "Basically, I wanted to tell you that if you're at the Burrow with Amelia, and you invite me over to see the both of you, I won't be able to come over because Ron and Molly say I'm not welcome there."
"Is that right?" Ginny said.
Hermione nodded.
For a moment, Hermione very nearly felt sorry for Ron. She had known Ginny for a long time, and so she could see every single one of the signs that Mount Ginny was about to explode.
"Right. Well. If he wasn't my own brother, I would strangle him. Don't worry about it, Hermione. I won't let them shove you out. You'll get plenty of time to see Amelia. It doesn't have to be at the Burrow. Place is falling apart anyway."
Warmth filled her. Ginny understood. "Thanks, Ginny."
"Now, while we're talking about it, why don't you come over later this week? We've got some catching up to do and Amelia has some lovely new artwork to show you. She's getting really good at drawing your hair. Maybe if we can sort out a time when Harry'll be home, we can all have dinner?"
The feeling of so much worry and stress being lifted from her shoulders was just indescribable. She had to blink tears out of her eyes.
"Thanks, Ginny. That sounds wonderful."
Getting that entire situation sorted out was a massive relief. After everything that had happened during her school years, Hermione sometimes had a tendency to assume the worst. A part of her had been really, really afraid that Ginny wouldn't see the severity of what Ron had done. She needn't have worried, apparently.
Sometimes, it was good to be wrong.
They'd set a tentative date for dinner; next Wednesday after class. Harry was due to finish work at the Ministry by four on Wednesdays, which meant that hopefully he would actually be done in time to come home for dinner.
Dinner with Harry, Ginny and Amelia… it had been a long time. Too long.
This being organised, she decided to tackle the next issue that she'd been dwelling on. Viktor Krum.
The way he had looked at her in the Great Hall that morning had made it very clear that despite the hardships of neglect and time, his feelings for her hadn't changed. Unfortunately, she no longer felt the same way.
Viktor was a good person, and she hadn't been avoiding him exactly, but it certainly might look that way to an outsider. First, that letter from Ron had put her in such a bad mood that she'd become basically unapproachable to most of her friends, and after that she'd gotten so wrapped up in the Brew of Ascension that she hadn't made any time to actually talk to him.
She did need to talk to Viktor. She'd wronged him by ignoring his letters, and for that he deserved an apology. But if he had in any way taken up Lucius' offer of the Slytherin Coach position in the hopes of seducing her, he would be very disappointed.
The sooner she dealt with this, the better. Later that same evening, she made up her mind to seek him out and explain everything.
Finding any one person in such a large castle could be very difficult. She knew that he was always here on Tuesday nights for Slytherin Quidditch practice, but practice had ended half an hour ago. She checked it to be sure, but the pitch was vacant.
She wasn't disappointed for long. Apparently, if someone ever wanted to track down Viktor Krum, all they ever had to do was find the nearest gaggle of young people and ask them where he would normally be this time of day.
The Gryffindor boys Hermione found were very forthcoming, if not very enthusiastic.
"He'd be down at the lake." Mr Blair said, sounding distinctly grumpy.
His friend scoffed and said, "Yeah, it's around about that time."
What's gotten into them? Hermione frowned at their attitudes, and the boys all reddened and found reasons to be elsewhere.
Hermione made her way to the lake, admiring the beauty of the evening as she did. It was bitterly cold, but the evening sky was a beautiful dusky blue.
She was there before long, but she still saw no sign of Viktor. Hermione sighed. This was turning out to be a real waste of time. Perhaps she'd have to wait for him to finish practice next time?
The lakeside was far from empty. Little knots of students, mostly girls, were sitting around with parchments and quills all around them. Perhaps they might have seen him?
As she approached the nearest group of students, Viktor Krum came striding out of the water. He… he wasn't wearing very much.
Good God.
Clearly, Viktor worked out. And often. She had never personally seen a man so muscular in person. A phrase she had heard once, "his shoulders had shoulders," certainly applied here. His biceps were probably the size of her head, or close, at least. His abs were cut as though from marble, and she suddenly understood all of the hype surrounding the young Quidditch player.
Instead of swimming trunks, he wore strange short-trousers that went down to his mid calf. They appeared to be made from dragon hide, and had a long bulky pocket on the outside of one leg from which the bird-like handle of his wand emerged.
All around her, Hermione could hear the sound of several dozen young people sighing blissfully and fluttering about under Invisibility Charms of varying degrees of finesse. Now that she was looking for it, it was clear that others, the ones who weren't invisible, hadn't touched their work in quite some time.
Hermione was outraged. Regardless of his reasons, Viktor coming here to Hogwarts was a huge privilege. Having the opportunity to learn under him was something that thousands of young Quidditch enthusiasts all over the world would kill for. Such flagrant disrespect was just totally unacceptable.
Quietly enough that Krum couldn't hear her, she said, "Alright. Every single one of you, back to your dorms right now. This is a disgusting and shameful way for Hogwarts students to behave." Hermione took a sharp breath to calm herself. "Get back to your dorms, and count yourself lucky I don't Deshroud you! As for the rest of you, go do your homework somewhere you will actually do it."
Many disappointed mutterings filled the air, but she could hear (and for some of the weaker charm casters, see) the admirers leaving. The rest of the students flounced off under the full weight of Hermione's glare.
As the students began dispersing, Viktor saw her and greeted her with that strange head-bow of his.
"Hermione."
"Viktor."
His accent was just strong enough to get her attention, but mild enough that she could easily understand what he was saying. He must have worked very hard on his english since they'd last met.
He gestured toward the departing students. "It is the same in Durmstrang." The Quidditch player said.
That does not surprise me. "Really?"
"Yes. Everywhere I go, the students are always studying. Not quite so much as these Hogwarts students, I think. You have been a good influence on them."
Oh dear. Poor, sweet Viktor. He honestly had no idea.
Viktor suddenly looked down at himself and blushed. Pulling his wand out, he conjured himself a dark set of robes and threw them on, loosely tying them at his waist. Hermione averted her eyes as he did.
Somewhat dressed, he set off for the school, and Hermione matched her pace to his.
Her carefully prepared speech was totally forgotten. Instead, she asked, "What were you doing down there? Hasn't anyone told you that Hogwarts has baths? The lake must be freezing."
Viktor huffed. "It is not so cold. I was visiting a friend. Well, a friend of a friend."
"In the lake? Who do you mean?"
"The Merpeople of Bulgaria asked me to deliver a message to the Lord and Lady of the Black Lake."
"Oh." How fascinating. "I hope it went well?"
"Well enough. It is good that Merfolk speak the same tongue. They recognised me, from last time."
"You did sort of make an impression, Viktor." And he must have. He had been partially transfigured into a shark at the time, after all.
The memory made her uncomfortable. Out of all the things around him, Dumbledore had decided that she would make the best 'prize' for Viktor to rescue from the lake. What a mess. The knowledge made her feel even guiltier.
They were heading back to the castle, where he would surely be Floo'ing home. Hermione half expected him to offer to carry her satchel for her, but she figured the fact that he was still soaking wet despite the robes made that challenging. Instead of offering, he nodded at it.
"I've read your book. A Witch's Guide to Self-Defence."
Hermione drew back, startled. "You did? Why?"
"They teach it at Durmstrang. My god-father recommended it to me."
Hermione prompted, "Your god-father?"
"Mickhail Ungur. Professor of Charms." Viktor paused. "He said it wasn't bad for a Hogwarts witch."
That was one way of putting it. She'd published it about a year after the war. That had been a challenging time in her life. The book had been one of her first full works as an author. It contained the most brutal and dangerous spells she had ever published. Some of them had been simply been modified or collated spells from other witches and wizards. Many of them had been of her own creation. It had been, without a doubt, one of the most popular works she had ever written.
Hermione had regretted publishing it pretty much straight away and had tried to get it withdrawn from book shops. By the time the lawyers had gotten round to sorting out all the formalities, thousands of copies had already gone into circulation worldwide. The lawyers hadn't been able to get back all the copies people had already bought, but at least it wasn't still on the shelves.
Delicately, she said, "I'm surprised he uses my book to teach, especially considering the type of spells in it." There was a copy at Hogwarts. Just one. It was in the Restricted Section, where it belonged.
Viktor gave her a quick, small grin. "Durmstrang is very different than Hogwarts. The Knee-Popping Hex is my favourite."
Her writers instinct to glow with pride every time someone complimented her creations conflicted with her very real concerns over what people might be doing with the spells she had invented when she was hurting, bitter, and afraid. The resulting maelstrom of emotions wasn't pleasant.
But this wasn't what she'd come here to talk about.
"Viktor, I owe you an apology."
"For what?" His brow was deeply furrowed, but that wasn't unusual. He had once called her the prettiest girl in the whole school while wearing a scowl much like it.
She took a deep breath. "I never replied to your letters, and I really should have. I was thinking about… well, I was about to get into a relationship with Ron. Sorry."
Strangely, Viktor looked pleased. "So, it wasn't because I had made you angry?"
Her, angry at Viktor? The idea was so strange that it took Hermione a moment to reply. "No? How could you have?"
"My English wasn't good. I thought perhaps I had said something to upset you by mistake."
"Oh, Merlin no! I promise, I wasn't upset." Now for the hard part. "I also want to apologize if I've led you on. I really like you, but I don't feel that way about you. I'm sorry."
Viktor's brow furrowed further. "It is fine, Hermione. You owe me nothing. Our friendship is enough for me. Unless you change your mind, of course. I want to apologise as well."
This was an evening of surprises. "What on earth do you have to be sorry about?"
"I wanted to come and speak to you as soon as I came here. But you were busy, and I was too…" His face twisted as he tried to think of the word. "Intimidated."
"Intimidated? By me?" Viktor, you could tear apart a tree trunk with your bare hands. "Is it because of the Knee-Popping Hex?" She asked, not entirely joking.
Viktor's scowl eased, just for a moment. "No. You are world famous. Brightest witch of the age, everyone says. It is true."
"Well, thank you." She said, lamely.
He stopped and faced her. He ducked his head so he could meet her eyes a little easier. The effect was… earnest. Sincere. "I know you are busy, always inventing things and teaching. But I would like it if we could be friends."
"I would like that too, Viktor."
Impulsively, she thrust out her hand. He grinned and shook it firmly.
When McGonagall requested her presence in her office late the next morning, a long stream of possibilities went through Hermione's head. Had one of the students been injured? Had she given a bad class? Had something happened to one of their mutual friends?
All this worry turned out to be at least partially justified when Minerva sat her down and told her what she was planning. The Headmistress wanted to resume the excursions to Hogsmeade for fourth years and older again.
Hermione immediately saw the danger. Kingsley, who'd become the Minister of Magic, had announced his decision to expel the dementors from Azkaban just before the school year had started. Deprived of their principle feeding ground, they had begun popping up in all sorts of places, even seeping into the muggle world.
Hermione looked up to Minerva and didn't want to go against her, but she couldn't stay silent.
"Isn't it too dangerous?" Hermione asked.
McGonagall said firmly, "I will not have the children locked up in this castle all year round, Professor Granger. Every precaution has been taken. You helped Flitwick and I weave the defences around Hogsmeade. Can you think of anything else you could do to improve the shields?"
Hermione thought long and hard. The charmswork they'd cast around the whole Hogwarts grounds had been the best that she could come up with. The design had been based on the wards the Founders had placed around Hogwarts, albeit rather less intricate and only fit to repel dementors, rather than all dark creatures. It had taken the three of them almost a full week to put in place. There was so much about the old magics that they just didn't understand.
Finally, she said, "I don't think so."
"Then it is settled. We'll take smaller groups of students with two teachers to stand watch. It might be prudent if at least one of the teachers could summon a full patronus."
McGonagall gave her a significant look, and Hermione knew that she would be supervising a lot of these trips to Hogsmeade.
Hermione had been a student not that long ago. She knew that the trips were a highlight and a necessary reprieve from the school environment, but as a teacher she could see just how many opportunities there were for things to go horribly wrong.
Hermione was nothing if not prepared, so she took the initiative and drew up a long, detailed list of every possible danger or accident that they might potentially come up against. The final version covered everything from dementors to natural disasters. She gave a copy out to each staff member and made it pretty clear that since McGonagall had basically put her in charge of the Hogsmeade trips, everyone would do well to study up on the dangers and her strongly recommended courses of action in each scenario.
All of the teachers were more or less on board with the entire thing. They talked about it at the staff table, or failing that, owled her clarifying questions. All, of course, except for Lucius. He refused to keep her up to date on his progress, taking an impish delight in dodging her questions. She would go down to the potions classroom, but somehow she seemed to just miss him. When Hermione dropped by the Quidditch pitch, knowing how he enjoyed watching the Slytherin team practice, Viktor would inform her that Lucius had decided to retire early, for some reason.
If she didn't know better, she would have thought Lucius was playing with her.
During one of the Head Club meetings, Hermione finally managed to corner Lucius by tearing him away from a rambling argument he and Tiberius were in the midst of. Wisely, Tiberius didn't say a word. She bullied Lucius into the chair and table in the corner, pulled herself up a seat, and began quizzing him on scenarios and their appropriate responses, much to his amusement.
Hermione kept the book in between them. Flicking to a particularly easy page, she asked imperiously, "What about if one of the children has an allergic reaction to something? A bee sting, for example?"
Lucius gave an exasperated groan. "Really, what is the point of all this? If a child is injured, we will simply take them to Madame Pomfrey."
"And by the time we get there, the student might have asphyxiated. Lucius, did you even read the material I gave you?"
"If I read every page of that manual of yours, I would have no time to teach."
It was at times like these that Hermione had to remind herself that if she jinxed Lucius Malfoy, McGonagall would be very disappointed in her.
"Oh, fine." He relented. "There are several spells that would serve quite well. Respirare, or relevare, I suppose. Given that I am a potioneer, I would probably use an anti-swelling ointment as well, such as-"
Hermione broke in, "Lucius, did you pretend not to know the answer just to annoy me?"
His lip quirked. "It is the season of giving, is it not? I would never deprive you of an opportunity to lecture me, Professor Granger; especially this close to Christmas."
On the other hand, Hermione thought to herself as she looked at his smug face, his glinting eyes, what the Headmistress did not know, would not hurt her.
Lucius gave her an innocent look. "Now, now, Professor Granger. We must not get sidetracked, not when we have so much of this magnificent manual of yours to read through." Thoughtlessly, he licked a finger and turned a page. "Now, where were we? I believe the next section is; what should we do if we are engaged in a duel with a dark wizard while trapped in a burning building? That one, I think, is my favourite."
Tearing her eyes away from his finger, Hermione said defensively, "It's been known to happen, and there's nothing wrong with being prepared."
"Certainly not. It would require, of course, any dark wizards to be left in the world, which I think we can safely say there are none. Besides, rumour has it that you will be going to almost every one of these little trips."
He was baiting her. It was working. "Probably, but what difference would that make?"
"Why, Professor Granger, I would have thought the answer would be obvious. You are the greatest witch of the age. I am a mere potioneer. If I am trapped in a burning building with a dark wizard and you are there, I would simply leave him in your capable hands. I would hate to get in your way."
The first few trips to the wizarding village passed without incident.
This wasn't to say they were without stress. The first trip was shared between Ravenclaw and Gryffindor, and Sinistra, being capable of casting a non-corporeal patronus, was sent instead of Tiberius. She and Hermione spent the entire afternoon with their hands on their wands, jumping at every noise and snapping at the students, and no-one really enjoyed themselves.
After a few trips, though, things started to get a little easier. Hermione, as she and Lucius had suspected, did indeed go on many of them. She resented the time it took away from her marking and academic work, but she understood the necessity.
The small adventures were a return to normalcy, and the mood amongst the student body was overwhelmingly positive. The older children were ecstatic, the younger ones were bitterly jealous. It was just as Hermione remembered it from her own days as a student.
The Hogsmeade visits were an opportunity for the teachers to relax too, once they got over their anxiety of being out in the open. The cottages were as neat and orderly as she remembered, and the novelty of it all only enhanced the natural charms of the little village. Hermione had never known just how much she needed time out of the castle until she saw Hogsmeade's streets. She loved Hogwarts with all her heart, but a change of scenery was definitely in order.
She had allocated a significant portion of their trips to the book shop, reasoning that the students would surely appreciate the opportunity to revitalise their own collections. Perhaps pick out a novel to amuse themselves with when they'd caught up on their studies. It wasn't the real reason, though it was a part of it. A new potions almanac had come out, and she wanted to see what Lucius thought of it.
The children were chattering behind her, clustering into friendship groups and bickering about where they would go first. Hermione smiled as she and Lucius, who was the other teacher on duty, led them to the High Street.
"Now, does everyone see High-Street Fashion over there?" She pointed, and the children said 'Yes, Professor'. "Good, now what about the Owl Post-Office over there?" The children confirmed it again. "Wonderful. No-one is to go further than that, and no-one is to even think about going to the Hog's Head. I've had a word with Aberforth. You won't be served, but you will get detention."
Someone made a disparaging comment about these restrictions. Lucius sharply told them to be quiet and do as they were told, and the complaints cut off.
The children dispersed, and Hermione and Lucius started their watch with only a few amused looks at one another at the children's antics.
The townspeople were happy to see them as well. She found George Weasley out in the street, hawking his wares (with great success) to the children. He was wearing one of his dragonhide suits. This one was a bilious yellow. It contrasted awfully, yet humorously, with the ginger shock of his hair. She approached him somewhat nervously, fearing what his stance on the Ron situation might be, but George didn't say a word about it.
Instead, George beckoned her inside the shop and they spent a happy half hour catching up while he emptied his shelves and she kept an eye on the students. She confiscated any contraband she saw them buying in a flash. George was kind enough to give the children a refund on the confiscated items, urging them to be more subtle next time. He didn't seem at all bothered by the fact that Hermione was interfering with his business, and Hermione knew that there was no bad blood between them.
Once they had their fill of conversation, Hermione found herself in a cheery mood, pleased that the breakdown of all communication between her and Ron hadn't poisoned her relationship with all of the Weasleys.
Just as Hermione was about to call all the children back, a strange creaking sound reached her ears. A terrible trepidation came over her. Slowly, she turned to see that the fountain of the village square was freezing over.
Alone, looking very small, was Vicky Parkinson.
Hanging above the little girl were two dementors. Their shroud-like cloaks hung beneath them. The shadowed cowls were turned towards her with a terrible hunger.
Everyone screamed, except Vicky. She was frozen stock still. The dementors rippled towards the little girl and Hermione ran out of the shop, fumbling for her wand.
Across the way, Lucius barked to her, "Stay with the students!"
He advanced as students ran past him to huddle behind Hermione. With deliberation, he drew his wand, black and straight as an arrow, and levelled it at the dementors.
With conviction, he said, "Expecto patronum!"
Hermione watched his patronus burst into the air around them. A great silver peacock, the train of its tail feathers shining. Spreading its wings, it screamed and dove for the nearest dementor, banishing it in a blaze of radiance.
The other dementor came for him, but Lucius fended it off with gritty determination. He can handle this, Hermione thought, though her wand was finally ready and she watched him like a hawk. So she saw the first dementor he had repelled return. Slinking low to the ground, it came toward Lucius from the side with inhuman, fluid speed.
The sight was so sickening that for a moment, Hermione froze.
He hadn't seen it. She cried, "Lucius, over there-"
The dementor reared up at him and Lucius faltered, stumbling backwards over the hem of his cloak. He went down, and his patronus winked out of existence. He hit the pavement hard and they roiled around him, cloaks billowing-
Hermione's heart stuttered. Then rage filled her bones and burned her fear away. Arming herself with a happy memory, a recent, tipsy evening during the Head Club where everyone had been reduced to teary laughter at an offhand, deadpan joke Lucius made, she pointed her wand at the dementors.
"Expecto Patronum!" The silver otter exploded from the end of her wand and went for the dementors, surging from one of them to the next with blinding speed. They screamed in eerie, impotent rage, and fled.
"Lucius!" Hermione yelled, running to him.
Falling to her knees, she saw that the Potions Professor had fainted. At least, she thought he had. Violent shivers wracked him and his eyes were rolled back in his head. She had to get him warm. He had to wake up.
He hadn't been fed from. She would have seen it if he had been. But he was sensitive to them, vulnerable as people with troubled pasts and repeated exposure would be. Would he have heard the sound of his wife and son being tortured, as Harry had heard his parents being murdered?
Hermione trembled, and panic threatened. He must have been so afraid.
Her academic brain took over. What dementors did to people, or one of the things that dementors did to people, was very similar to an extreme form of shock. Hermione wouldn't be able to reverse the effects entirely, but she could at least warm him up and give a little energy.
A quick bit of wandwork and a bit of colour bloomed across his cheeks. Within a minute, he returned to consciousness with a shuddering breath.
Lucius stilled, and looked up at her. Their eyes met. Sharp brown into muddled grey.
"Miss Parkinson." He mumbled.
"She's fine." Hermione reassured him. A quick glance was enough to confirm that this was true. George had wrapped her up in his hideous jacket and her friends were crowding all around her. They meant well, but Hermione knew it would only make things worse. They needed to get Vicky to Madame Pomfrey right away.
Turning her gaze down to Lucius, she asked him, "Can you stand?"
He nodded, and staggered upright with a wince.
Hermione took charge and called all the children back to her with a voice-amplifying charm. Once they were all back, she did a quick head-count. No-one was missing, thank Merlin.
She kept Lucius to her side, where she could keep an eye on him. She kept her wand out, and saw that he had his out too.
Hermione glared at Lucius out of the corner of her eyes. Now that he wasn't in imminent danger and the children were safe, she had plenty of time to be angry with him. She wasn't sure who she was more furious with; him, for telling her what to do, or herself for listening.
Finally, she could hold it in no longer.
"I hope you didn't tell me to stay behind with the children because I'm a woman, Lucius." She said tightly.
A flicker of disgust flashed across his proud face. It was strangely reassuring to see. "A Muggle preconception, one I have always found very stupid. Witches have always been at the forefront of every field of magic."
This mollified her, but left her with questions. Why, then, had he told her to stay behind with the students? Lucius walked on, seemingly content to say nothing further. His eyes were hard though, and she could see he was scanning their surroundings… which was what she should be doing.
She focused on watching out for more dementors. They saw nothing but fog, heard nothing but the sounds of the group's passage. They crossed the bridge in utter silence. Neither she nor Lucius put their wands away until they crossed into the main courtyard. Some of the students burst into tears of relief, and she couldn't help but let out an explosive sigh as the tension left her.
Madame Pomfrey was waiting for them in the courtyard; she always seemed to know when she was needed. A few sixth and seventh years followed at her heels, her ever-present band of helpers, and together they organised the most distressed of the students and started leading off towards the infirmary. Hermione gave Lucius a questioning look when he did not go with them, but he only shook his head.
"The Headmistress will want our report." Lucius said. "I am well enough, Hermione."
He might be right, there, but she would keep an eye on him just to be sure. Hermione spotted the Gryffindor Head girl and waved her over, "Joanna, would you make sure everyone gets back to the common room safely? Thank you."
With that dealt with, she and Lucius headed straight for McGonagall's office.
"Then why?" She continued now that they were alone. "Did you think I couldn't cast a patronus?"
It had been a long time since they had said anything to one another, but he knew exactly what she meant.
"On the contrary; I knew that you could. Yaxley told us it's form after you broke into the Ministry. An otter, as I saw today. No, I asked you to watch over the children because you are the more powerful of the two of us, and it made more sense to hold you in reserve."
Hermione followed the thought through. "You mean, in case there were more Dementors other than the ones we saw."
"Precisely. In the case of retreat, if I had to guess which one of us would survive long enough to get the children back to the castle, the answer is easy."
The cool, measured way he spoke of his own death was appalling. A chill broke out over her skin.
"You shouldn't say things like that."
Lucius made a sound that might have been laughter, but the echoes of the stone distorted the sound, making it jarring and strange. "Why not? It is true."
Hermione said nothing else on their way to the Headmistress' office. She was so profoundly disturbed by the way he had spoken that she could hardly maintain her composure.
They let themselves in to find the rest of the staff were already there.
Hermione saw that Lucius was still too pale, and summoned up a House Elf to bring them both steaming mugs of hot chocolate. In the meantime, McGonagall peppered them with questions, which they did their best to answer. Had they seen where the dementors had come from? Had Miss Parkinson been fed from? Had they seen any other dementors aside from the ones they had fought off?
"Thank the stars the two of you were there." Professor Sinistra said, at last. "Not many wizards could cast a patronus powerful enough to repel not one, but two dementors, especially if taken by surprise."
Lucius started, and murmured thanks to Sinistra for this praise. He seemed to have to strain to avoid looking at Hermione. He needn't have worried that she would begrudge him for it. He had done most of the work, after all.
"Well- that's the end of that, isn't it?" Grubbly-Plank said, cutting straight through the pleasantries. "We tried, it didn't work, it isn't safe. I'm sure we could come up with plenty of other things to keep the children busy."
"What about Hogsmeade?" Neville asked, and Hermione knew that he was thinking of his family. The Longbottoms weren't far out of Hogsmeade. "If the Dementors got in once, they can do it again."
McGonagall replied, "Quite right, Neville. I have already sent word to the Ministry but apparently there have been cases similar to ours all over England. The Aurors will not be here for quite some time."
The teachers looked at one another. It didn't take a legilimens to know what they were thinking. The Hogwarts wards were some of the greatest known to the wizarding world. Once activated, they were basically impenetrable. None of the dementors had made it past their protections so far.
McGonagall said decisively, "In the meantime, we'll evacuate the town. Hogwarts has enough space for everyone. "
Lucius made a dubious noise. "How are we to do that? There are hundreds of people there. We don't have enough people who can cast the patronus to guarantee their safety."
Minerva turned to him, disapproval apparent. "Are you so worried, Lucius?"
"Certainly I am. There were witnesses. Doubtless the whole town already knows about the dementors. They will be terrified. Hundreds of frightened people all together… it will be like a siren call for them."
As one, they all looked to Grubbly-Plank. She nodded grimly.
Tiberius mused, "The Ministry won't establish a new branch of the Floo Network. They won't have the resources… I have a few Portkeys to the school. It isn't much, but certainly you are welcome to them, Headmistress."
Hermione was shocked. Portkeys tied to the school were absolutely illegal. It was also meant to be impossible without the express permission of the Headmistress and the Ministry.
Minerva levelled a steely glare at him at this admission. "Tiberius, honestly! Never mind, they will be very useful. Neville, it might be worth writing to George. Between the two of you, I'm sure you know every way of getting into the castle worth knowing."
"Those that can apparate can come as close to the grounds as possible." Sinistra said. "Those of us that can cast the charm can wait at a predetermined spot to bring them in."
Hermione let everyone else handle the talk of evacuation. Her mind was too busy dwelling on the matter of how the dementors had gotten in in the first place.
"I can go to Hogsmeade." Hermione said suddenly. "I cast the spells. If I can just see the barrier, I can figure out what went wrong. Maybe I can mend the charms and improve them somehow to stop more from coming in."
No one liked this idea very much, but honestly, she hadn't really been asking. This was her responsibility.
McGonagall straightened in her chair, and everyone fell quiet. "I also cast those wards, Professor Granger. We will go together."
"Minerva, it's far too dangerous. You can't go." Grubbly-Plank said bluntly.
The Headmistress gave her an icy look, but the Care of Magical Creatures professor didn't back down, and the rest of the staff took the opportunity to voice their agreement.
"Well then, it appears I've been overruled. Is she to go alone?" Her voice made it very clear that she expected someone to volunteer.
As Hermione had known he would, Neville said, "I'll go."
Hermione refused him. "Thanks Neville, really, but you're one of the best fighters we have. We'll need you to make sure everyone from Hogsmeade gets here safely."
This was true. It just wasn't her main reason. She didn't want to hurt his feelings, but Neville had never fully mastered the patronus charm, and more importantly, whenever she thought of him facing any serious danger, she could only think of Teddy Lupin, Harry, and every child who had had to grow up without a parent. She thought of Hannah. Hannah was going to have their baby any day now. She thought of Hannah raising two children alone. Hermione would rather go by herself than be responsible for that. But to go by herself would be idiocy. How would she defend herself if dementors attacked while she was repairing the barrier?
His grand-mother made to say something, but Minerva headed her off. "We can't spare you either, Augusta. You're staying behind."
Professor Longbottom's gnarled hands twisted before her in displeasure, but she said nothing. The Defence Against the Dark Arts Professor was more than capable of casting a patronus, but her own battles in the war had taken their toll. The trip would be too much for her.
Who did that leave her? Grubbly-Plank was right; McGonagall was out of the question. She was too important (and too old, Hermione thought, hating herself for it) to risk. Hogwarts needed her. For the same reasons, it couldn't be Pomfrey even if the Infirmary Witch could cast the patronus charm, which Hermione wasn't sure of. Grubbly-Plank might have worked, if she were younger and fitter. Her knowledge of magical creatures would have come in handy against dementors.
Tiberius and Trelawney were looking anywhere but at her. Sinistra met her eyes bravely and Hermione knew that if she asked, the Astronomy Professor would come. But she didn't know how much fighting experience Sinistra had, if any, and she knew that she couldn't produce a corporeal patronus.
Then there was Binns. Binns was sort of tempting. He couldn't produce a patronus, but was it possible that as a ghost, he might actually be impervius from a dementor's attacks? On the other hand, could Binns do anything that might hurt a dementor at all? When was the last time he had even left the castle? Taking him along wasn't worth the gamble. There were simply too many unknowns.
That only left her with one option. Lucius. He could produce a full patronus and he had already proven himself against dementors, even though one had taken him by surprise. He was fit and strong. He had no young children dependent on him.
And yet… Hermione hated the idea. If he came with her, she couldn't guarantee his safety. The idea of him coming to harm was… well, it made her sick. She remembered how cold he'd looked, lying there, as she fought to revive him.
But she couldn't put the whole school, and Hogsmeade too, at risk just to spare Lucius. Bringing him was the right thing to do. No matter how much it bothered her, he was the best man for the job.
The answer must have been clear to everyone else too, because everyone turned to stare at the Potions Professor. Lucius said nothing. The silence dragged on, and someone coughed suggestively. Lucius sat very still and said nothing.
Hermione's treacherous, clever mind realised something else. Something she shied away from the second it came to her. Hagrid had told her that Dementors liked feeding on those they had fed from before. Lucius had been in Azkaban for months. She remembered the way that dementor had looked when it had come back for him; like a shark scenting blood in the water.
If the need arose, Lucius could even serve as bait.
Lucius finally acknowledged the pointed glares of the other staff members with a deep sigh. He finished his hot chocolate and asked, "When do we leave?"
Her heart sank.
Hermione saw no point wasting daylight, so an hour later she made her way down into the labyrinthine dungeons beneath the school.
Not far past the entrance to the Slytherin common room, Lucius' office stood out like a sore thumb. The door was ornate, painted a deep green with a silver dragon shaped knocker in the center. The silver had been polished until it shone. Hermione thought privately that it was a bit overdone.
There was no answer. Hermione looked around. There could be no doubt that she was in the right place.
Still no answer, though. No sounds at all from within. Abandoning all pretence at patience, Hermione banged on the door.
"Coming, coming." His voice rang out.
The door swung inwards. Lucius had made some concessions to practicality in that he was not wearing one of his cloaks, though he wore a long grey coat cut in wizarding style. His hair was pulled up and out of his face. He was not carrying his cane and the sight of him without it, more than anything else, made him seem like a different man.
Hermione wore muggle clothes and felt decidedly unfashionable next to him, but she had everything she needed. Her vinewood wand, a spare just in case, and courage.
"Are you ready?" She asked.
He raised an eyebrow as if to say obviously, and they set off.
Top secret news travelled very fast in Hogwarts. By the time Hermione and Lucius had made it out of the dungeons, the hallways were packed with students. It was quiet. They children knew what Lucius and Hermione were doing; it was written all over their faces. They watched the Gryffindor and Slytherin Heads of House go as if they would never see them again. A few of them waved silently to her, and Hermione summoned up her bravest smile for them in reply.
The thought of how frightened they must be made Hermione feel sick.
Lucius must be terrified as well. He'd only been in Azkaban for six months, but she knew from what little Hagrid had told her that six months was more than enough. She couldn't imagine how he must feel at the idea of having to confront them again. It was one thing to come upon something terrifying without expecting it. The dread of knowing was something else altogether.
She tried to remind herself that bringing him along had been the right thing to do. Lucius was simply the best choice. She wondered if knowing that would make her feel any better if the dementors sucked the soul right out of him. It would be her fault.
They went out into the courtyard. The sun shone weakly through a haze of pearly grey clouds.
"I'm sorry." Hermione said, feeling really awful about it.
"Don't be sorry, Hermione." Lucius said. He smiled in a way that did not fit the occasion. He was walking with a spring in his step, and only slowed down when he noticed that she was falling behind. "I'm starting to think there's hope for you yet."
It occurred to her, in a flash of inspiration, that there was still a way out of this. Neither she nor Lucius had told Minerva about him fainting down at Hogsmeade. Minerva wouldn't have had a chance to speak to Pomfrey, yet, since she was still looking after Miss Parkinson. If she told her what had happened to Lucius, the Headmistress would probably forbid him to go. Not only might he still be weak, but it was proof that he might not be able to handle it. All Hermione had to do was humiliate him. She just had to go to Minerva and tell her that Lucius wasn't capable. That he would only slow her down.
Hermione stood, looking back at the castle, and tried to convince herself to do it. He might never forgive her and worse, she wasn't sure if she could ever forgive herself. And yet, the alternative-
Lucius had seen her dawdling, but didn't understand. He assumed that she was nervous, perhaps thought that she was thinking of going back to the castle.
He put a kind hand on her shoulder. "Come, now. There is nothing to fear." Her regret must have shown on her face when she turned to him, because Lucius pursed his lips and said, "Hermione, you have my word. I may not be a great wizard, but I won't let any harm come to you."
But you are a great wizard. Hermione thought. You're just a different kind of wizard. You're amazing at potions. You'd do anything for your family, for your friends. You worked so hard on the Ascension with me, because you care about the students of this school. You're clever, and funny, and kind to me, and I'm going to make sure you see your son and grandson again.
"That's completely wrong, actually." Hermione said. "But I am better in a fight than you, Lucius. I'm going to keep you safe. I promise you."
Lucius took a moment to digest this, before saying with a little smile, "If that is true, Hermione, then I am safer than I was when I woke up in my bed this morning. Lead on. We are losing the day."
Ahhhh it's kicking off!
You guys can see why this needed to be split. This chapter alone was 8k. It just would have been far too cumbersome and awkward to read in its original form.
What did you think of Lucius' patronus being a peacock? I have always seen it as being an absolute fact but I know everyone has different viewpoints on it. Also, if you haven't already, please check out what the actor for Viktor Krum looks like nowadays. What an absolute Adonis.
Please let me know your thoughts on the chapter. And don't worry, expect an update in the next three-five days or so.