Ch. 47 Summary: Harry gets picked for the Triwizard tournament. Moody is sus. Draco and Hermione make up in the music room. Hermione remembers what happened in Paris. Hedgeflower and Hermione duel. Cornelius Fudge and his wife are dead.

Also, I realized I was calling Osman Fudge (Minister Fudge's son) Oswald. This has been corrected, sorry about any confusion.

TW: Vomiting mentioned, su*cide mentioned, murder mentioned.

SnakeQueen101: I had that planned this whole time, but I didn't know how to reply without giving it away ;) I hope you enjoy!


"His cause of death was a stroke that was closely followed by a heart attack." The Daily Prophet had printed.

'I made the lesion in his brain – it was too strong.' Andromeda dry heaved into the rubbish bin at her knees. 'I did it. I killed him. I only wanted to paralyze him.'

"It is believed that his wife found him, and in her distress, took her own life, unable to bear the thought of living without her husband. He is survived by his son, Osman Fudge, their only son."

'And in turn I killed her. I'm a monster, I'm just like my sisters.' Andromeda's body seized and her mind went blank as the acidic swirl of vomit finally made its exit into the bin.

Narcissa rubbed soothing circles into her sister's back. Andromeda had felt weak the moment she spotted the article announcing the Fudge's passing. She had been at work when she spotted the headline – talking to Minister Marchbanks no less – when she suddenly went silent. She excused herself, cancelled all of her appointments for the day, and headed straight to the only murderers she knew:

The Malfoys.

It was her brother-in-law who had greeted her at the floo when she finally made her way to the manor. Lucius almost didn't recognize her, as she often appeared as a blonde in his home, but in her distress she was unable to use her metamorphagus gift to present herself as Dr. Augsen. He sent his house elf to alert Narcissa once Andromeda fell to the soot covered hearth, her face scrunched up as she cried, he wings soaking through her shirt. She only wailed even harder when he offered her a hand to get off of the floor, feeling dismal that she was in such a state that Lucius seemed to take pity on her.

That was how Narcissa found her primarily irreproachable, level-headed, older sister; kneeling on the hearth of her fireplace, weeping herself to the point that merely seconds later, she retched on one of Lucius' feet. Narcissa vanished the vomitus before joining Andromeda on the dirty floor, just as Lucius disappeared from their side. He walked with a slight limp as if the ick was still on his shoe.

"Shhh, shhh, it's going to be -"

"Don't say it's going to be alright, Narcissa!" Andromeda screamed. "I have never killed anyone! I went in the health field to prevent death -"

Narcissa's heart ached as she watched her sister. Dark curls were sticking to the edges of her face and her skin regained it's naturally, clear olive complexation that she shared with Sirius. While Bellatrix and Andromeda could pass for twins if they really tried, they couldn't be more opposite in regards to how they felt about on how the world should be ran. "I know -"

"How do you do it?" Andromeda almost heaved again and she gripped the rim of the bin to ready herself, but it didn't come. "I can't believe I messed up. He's only been dead less than a day and I can't – I can't - I can't -" Andromeda was rocking back and forth now, as she edged toward hyperventilating. She had wanted to say she couldn't live with herself, but she couldn't bring herself to say the words. She knew the weight of them and in truth... She didn't actually want to die, and that made her feel so much worse. Taking a life was the number one act she told herself that she would never do. Even when the opportunity presented itself, when she knew of everything Fudge did to others, she was still incapable to do it.

Lucius returned levitating a tray with a new pair of shoes on. "In all the years I had known you, you had never made a mistake. I'm sure if the intention to kill him was actually there, he would have died from the stroke and not the heart attack that followed afterward." Lucius didn't sit with them, nor did he try to coax them onto the couch, but he did shrink a nearby décor table to place the tray down on in front of them. "How are you positive it was actually your fault?"

"The Stroke would have caused the heart attack!" Andromeda's eyes searched the ground through dry eyes, her back soaked as her wings pressed against her tight business clothes. "Or do I? I was so tired and I hadn't used my powers consistently for that long before."

"It sounds like it was an accident. That doesn't make you guilty." Lucius dismissed. Andromeda's eyes settled on to him. 'That's it. That's how he lives guilt free - he jumps through hoops to validate his actions.' He was giving her answers the questions she had, but it wasn't what she wanted to hear.

"Ann, you're going to be fine -"

"MY SOUL HAS BEEN SPLIT!" Andromeda gripped her chest with both hands. 'I need to calm down, I don't yell, I don't -' but she knew better than anyone that sometimes the subconscious will react in ways that one's logical side will not allow. Stress was just change in a short amount of time and the body was bound to react how it was bound to react. "TELL ME HOW TO LIVE WITH MYSELF!" Andromeda sobbed into her hands as she sunk further into her fetal position, her head now centimeters from the floor. 'Their souls must be shattered with what they had done. They would know better than anyone else on how to deal with it!'

Narcissa didn't say anything as her hands went limp. She saw how repulsed Andromeda was in the garden, when she swore off their re-established relationship, but it was another thing to realize that her own flesh and blood saw her as a monster. Even then, the only signs she outwardly showed that she was hurt by Andromeda's words, were how her hands shook like an autumn leaf on a turning tree as she fixed her sister a spot of tea.

Lucius watched Narcissa, only choosing to speak again when she was done. "There was a time where I had to choose which Black sister I would take their hand in marriage. While I was enamored with Narcissa from the first day we met, I amused my father and studied the three of you closely, just so I could report back that I was considering other choices." Both sisters looked up at him, never hearing this particular anecdote before. "I had seen you run yourself ragged, Andromeda, and still ace your O.W.L.S. You train your gifts regularly in your career and I don't believe you had made a mistake." He tilted his chin a little higher, hoping they would not make a big deal about the hidden compliment. A Declaration of Confidence is what he would call it if they did. "I have... connections who can look into what had happened. It would be a, ah, private investigation, but if it would make you feel better I would not mind arranging it." It was what he had done for the muggle who was murdered in the Riddle house over the Summer.

Andromeda slowly nodded, then vigorously. She couldn't bring herself to say the words that criminalize her even further as she had no doubt that this was an illegal investigation, but in some odd twisted way, Lucius had given her hope. His way of reasoning she had just condemned was now the one thread she would hold on to until the reports came back. 'I am not a monster. I can't be.'

No one said another word as Lucius walked out of the room, no doubt getting started on the offer he made to Andromeda. Narcissa watched him go with not just pride in her eyes, but relief. She was well aware that if had happened even a year ago, he would have never made the offer and might have kicked Andromeda out as soon as she appeared. Instead, he welcomed her, did not leave her side until Narcissa could take over and then extended help - without asking for payment or a favor in return. Narcissa had been hesitant to to hope that Hermione would bring out the qualities Abraxas and Voldemort tried to snuff out, but if it wasn't clear before that Hermione was slowly thawing Lucius out, it was clear now.


Hermione decided her new vigour would come with a new routine. She could do nothing about Osman at Hogwarts, but she could try to keep Harry alive. Not to mention the pressure was only intensified as the eyes of the wizarding world were once again upon him, as if he was Io and they were the giant Argos. Hermione was determined to be the Hermes in his story, freeing him from its gaze in any way she could - so she studied.

And studied. And studied. And studied.

After classes on Tuesday, she and Harry talked about the Tournament more. The first task was to be held on November 24th, a little over three weeks away. Barty Crouch and Ludo Bagman informed Harry, along with the other champions that the task would be to test his daring and that he was not to ask nor accept anyone else's help. Being that he was three years behind the other champions, Hermione eventually convinced Harry that the rule was one they could look over and that she would help him regardless if he was appreciative or not:

"Defensive spells, offensive spells, protections charms, the lot of it." She had promised him. Harry was silent as she talked about what he needed to prepare for and she omitted that Draco may be helping her with her research.

Harry seemed as if he was unwilling to reply, which she thought was fair considering she could hear the crunching of joggers approaching from behind them. She looked over her shoulder as they stepped over a tree root that reached far enough into the Black Lake's bank it was considered a trip hazard by the students of Hogwarts. She was smacked in the face by her hair being lifted in the breeze, forcing Hermione to tuck her locks behind an ear. Once her vison was clear, she met with Viktor Krum's gaze as he passed. He was leading a small group of Durmstrang students in their jog, followed closely by another group of fangirls. He nodded his greeting to her, but Hermione only raised her eyebrows, showing she was completely unimpressed before she looked back at Harry. "Perhaps physical training, too." She remarked in a half joking manner.

The joke didn't sit will with Harry and he gulped as the older boys – men if they were being honest - passed. "Er, will there be duels for one of the trials?"

"No, combat trials were banned in 1683." His question did bring up a good point though, she needed to familiarize herself with the new set of Triwizard Tournament rules. She made a note to send an owl to Lucius and Narcissa asking if there was anything printed just yet on it. "I'll still look into them and notate anything that might be useful." Hermione's voice was tight with her last statement, but only because she was allowing Harry's unfortunate circumstance be the guise for her expanding her knowledge on dueling spells. If she was to believe her dream to be more than a dream, she didn't want to be caught ill prepared when she faced Osman again.

It was at that moment that she was reminded why she was willing to break the rules for one of her best friends; Harry was family. Family who had suffered like she had. "You think it would be too much to ask for one year where everything was just... normal?" Harry made sure to met her gaze this time. When they did though, the seriousness gave way and they both burst into bellyaching laughter.

Perhaps it was the trauma speaking, but in that brief moment by the lake, they knew that if they didn't laugh about it, they would surely cry about it.

On Wednesday, they sent an owl to Sirius, informing him that Harry was now a contestant in the Triwizard Tournament. Hermione's owl was no where to be found, so they used a Hogwarts Barn owl and attempted to keep a low profile the rest of the day. Hermione had hoped as she walked to their first lesson on Thursday with Harry, that tensions would have improved once the students got used to the idea that Harry was a champion, but they were mistaken. The Hufflepuffs were just as unpleasant as they had been with Hermione, but now towards the entire house. The Slytherins were more than happy to join the Hufflepuffs in mocking the Gryffindors while the Ravenclaws sat to the side. Their disapproving stares told them all they needed to know on what they thought about Harry, but at least Hermione's aggravation stayed to a minimum when the odd house was involved. 'Just ignore them, just ignore them, just ignore them' was a mantra that she was constantly reciting in her head as well as out loud when she saw Harry was gearing himself to spring into action.

"I won't start anything, but I will finish it." Is what she had told Harry in passing Friday morning, when she let it slip that she had recently hexed Hedgeflower. He got in to another row with Ron in the common room, but she didn't so much as glance in the youngest Weasley boy's direction as she dragged Harry out by his robe sleeve, reprimanding Harry that he needed to learn to walk away from any excess stressors until the tournament was over. "You don't have time to deal with Ron's jealousy over not being in the spotlight again." He accepted her logic without another objection – something he seemed to do more often than not, now that Ron was nowhere near to argue with her.

Her bold statement on finishing arguments was something she regretted as soon as they had arrived to potions. Hermione was rearranging her notebooks in her bag as she walked, when she dropped all of the months of careful notes she took on the Blast-Ended Skwerts when she saw that Draco, along with most of the Slytherins and the few Hufflepuffs in the room, were wearing a badge that read:

Support CEDRIC DIGGORY – The REAL Hogwarts Champion!

She looked up at her friend's cocky mask, one that he saved for the public, with hurt clear her face. She hadn't heard him say an ill word towards Harry in so long that seeing him wear something like that was a shock to her. Her brain however could only come up with one thing to say, "That's not a S.P.E.W. Badge."

He looked down at her and she thought she saw something flicker in his eyes, but Bulstrode's outburst tore her and Harry's attention away from Draco. "Neat aren't they?" Bulstrode pressed the badge on his chest and the read letters swirled before being replaced by another message, this time in a hideous green:

POTTER STINKS!

Hedgeflower and Parkinson pressed the badges on their chest so the messages would change on theirs, too. "We should thank you, you know." Hermione was breathing fiercely through her nose now as her eyes landed on Pansy, who had spoken. "Showing Max and I those transfiguration spells last weekend really came in handy." In the corner of her eye, she saw Ron look up at her and Harry standing in the doorway, but he said nothing on behalf of his friends. In fact, he looked away as soon as she looked over at him.

"Want one, Granger?" Hedgeflower took one out of the small pile that was on her desk and held it out to her. "As a token of unity for both of our houses having a champion."

The anger that she had been putting off on addressing until she was sitting in front of Dr. Augsen erupted. There must have been a change in Hermione's hair that had given her away as both acted at the same time, barely giving the surrounding students time to dive out of the way.

"Herbifors!" Cried Hermione. Hedgeflower smoothly dodge out of the way with a twirl, ending up between two tables.

"Densaugeo!" Hermione moved to the right, but her arm was grabbed, causing her to be pulled back to the left.

The spell hit her right in her face and she only had time to think 'oh no!' before her two front teeth, already too large and too big, grew at a rapid pace.

They didn't stop until they were down to her chest and she tried to cover it up with her hands, but they had ground to the length of her collar. It was much too large for her to hide from anyone, and she felt the weight of the classroom's stare on her.

"What is going on here?" Hermione whirled around to see Professor Snape had finally arrived. Standing in the door way, he took in the sight of Hermione's humiliating state before his sharp eyes surveyed the room - not his students - for further damage. When he found there was none, his stare landed on Draco. "Explain," he snarled.

"Granger attacked Hedgeflower -" Pansy tried to say, but Draco spoke over her as the Potions Master had requested.

"They attacked each other at the same time, sir." It was a neutral and honest answer, one that Hermione appreciated from him, despite being a tad upset he would wear that badge over a S.P.E.W one.

"And she hit me!" Hermione pulled her robes up to her nose so she could turn to see Crabbe, red in the face, and absolutely fuming at the fact that his hair had been replaced with spring flowers.

"Hospital wing, now." Snape said calmly. He walked around Hermione, intent on starting the lesson without saying a single word to her.

"And what about Hermione? Hedgeflower got her, too!" Harry gently pried Hermione's cloak from her face, forcing her to drop her robe. The entire classroom became silent once again, save for the students who where trying to hold in their laughter. Her face burned red, but she kept her eyes on Snape, waiting for him to tell her to go to the infirmary too. 'Just don't look at Draco, you don't want to see him laughing, too -'

"I see no difference." He stared her down in the cold way that he often reserved for Harry. She froze in place as she watched her Professor turn his back on her to write on the chalk board naming the day's lesson. "Fifty points from Gryffindor, and -"

Snape stopped talking the moment he heard his classroom door open then slam shut as Hermione dismissed herself, taking any remaining respect she had been saving for Snape with her.

Her hands shook as they often did when she left a classroom. She found it nerve-racking as it went against every moral she had to walk out on a teacher. What was different about leaving the classroom this time though, was that she was actually afraid of what she might have done if she stayed.


She could feel the habit forming as she sat in her corner of the library that afternoon, but she could hardly build the courage to nip it in the bud. She clung on to the irrational thought that if she stopped rubbing the tip of her tongue on the back of her front teeth, they would return to their normal, over large, size. Hermione knew that was impossible, as Madam Pomfrey used a permanent spell to alter her teeth into a normal size, but after having misaligned front teeth for over fifteen years, it would take more than a couple hours for her to accept that she now had perfect teeth.

Hermione sighed and anxiously tapped her never-ending ink quill on to her parchment. She thought she would be happy – fixing her teeth was supposed to be a treat to herself. After having to endure an excess amount of bullying over her teeth and after just having to deal with so much, she thought she deserved to feel confident in her looks, but now it was just a guilty reminder of her parents. They wanted her to correct the teeth with nothing, but braces and she refused, knowing the bullying would only intensify. When she was admitted into Hogwarts, one of the first things Hermione looked into was how to correct said teeth. By the time she went home for Christmas first year, she had poured her findings into a PowerPoint presentation on her parents Macintosh computer to present why magically aligned teeth would be a much better option than braces. They still said 'no', of course. Despite that William and Jean Granger would never have a say on her teeth, or anything else in her life ever again, she felt like she was betraying them in some way.

'I need to focus. Moping over things I can not change won't help Harry.' Hermione positioned herself to continue making her list as she turned back to the book she was reading, when she noticed she was no longer alone.

At the end of the study aisle she was situated in, she saw that a tall, dark haired Durmstrang student had backed into the study aisle she occupied. His shoulders were broad and the long sleeve uniform only hugged his fit arms in all the right places. Footsteps and giggles were fast approaching, and Viktor Krum pressed himself against the wall of books, hoping that whoever was looking for him would pass by without detecting him. It would have been a vain attempt on his part if she didn't have most of the wards up that she and Draco often used when sitting together.

When his pursuers came into view, Hermione counted four Ravenclaws being lead by a second year Gryffindor. The Ravenclaw students kept walking, but the Gryffindor stopped at the aisle opening. Seeing her head on, Hermione recognized her as Romilda Vane. Her glee of catching her prey fell into a look of mild confusion as her friends rejoined her, looking into a seemingly empty study aisle. "I saw him turn in here."

"Well, apparently you didn't." Another girl pointedly said.

"Oh, shut up - let's go find him." A third said before practically running off.

The Ravenclaws disappeared, but Romilda stayed and reached out toward the wards. Hermione glanced over at Krum's profile. His thick eyebrows were drawn together, confused as to why the small gaggle had not spotted him, but unwilling to move in the event his luck ran out. She realized then that he was similar to Harry in that way – he didn't like being followed around by students for his fame, he only tolerated it. She knew what Quidditch meant for wizards and it was hardly fair that his only other option to stop being followed was to give up something he loved.

Hermione had three options: Let Krum be discovered in a bewitched corner of the Library with her – she thought the school hated her enough as is. She could confront the Romilda by stepping out of the warded area, but that didn't necessarily mean that the girl would go away, not to mention she would need to find a new corner of the library to occupy with her research.

Or, Hermione could use a charm that she thought might be helpful to Harry during the trials - one that Moody had mentioned earlier in the week. It was the only option that secured her and Krum their privacy.

"Confundus." She hissed as she made the circular wand movement. The Romilda stumbled back, just as one of her friends called out to her again. Without glancing behind her, she followed after them, leaving Hermione and Krum alone in the aisle.

Hermione looked over at Krum who had finally realized he wasn't alone like he had thought. For the first time, she saw him without a brooding or angry expression on his face and he looked quite handsome in her opinion. His gaze, intense due to the gratitude on every inch of his strong features, was disarming. She gave him a small toothless smile, before turning back to her research, hoping she managing to keep the blush from tinting her cheeks.

She had expected him to escape the same way he came, but instead he approached her table. Hermione looked up at him again, her stomach turning as her tongue pressed against her central incisors once more. She crossed her forearms over each other, hoping it looked as if she was open to conversation rather than her keeping a hand over the hilt of her wand in the event she needed it. She thought she had hexed enough people this week, but she didn't put it past Krum to be just as upset as the rest of Hogwarts or Beauxbatons Academy.

"You are the fourth champion's girlfriend."

Hermione made a face and shook her head. 'God, that's like saying Draco is my brother!' Hermione nearly failed to deign a reply from the surprise that ran through her at the thought. "I'm not his girlfriend," was the only thing she could say. This time she couldn't stop the heat rising to her cheeks.

He looked pleasantly surprised at the news, but didn't comment on it. Instead, he placed one arm behind his back and another over his heart before bowing to her. "Thank you. I have been unable to get away from them."

He straitened from the deep bow and Hermione nodded back at him, feeling that was the only thing she could do. "It was just the right thing to do." She felt a little flustered and wondered if he would be leaving soon. She tried not to think about how Parvati was right in saying that the crooked nose he now had from an unblocked bludger at the Quidditch Cup only emphasized his handsomely rugged features, rather than take away from them. Durmstrang was obviously a school that cared about power over anything else and there wasn't anything about Krum that contradicted that – even with him being so young. It both intrigued and made Hermione hesitant of him, but mostly intrigued.

"A lot of my school mates think it was foul play," Hermione's eyes narrowed, knowing what he was referring to. He didn't look accusatory, but he did look over his shoulder as if he could see the charms she had placed that allowed her to stay hidden. She took this time to remove her wand and start sending the books back to their appropriate shelves, ready to make her leave. The only one she left on the heavy mahogany table was The Scores Which Bring Life. If he even chanced a glance at the titles, and figured out what she was doing for Harry, it wouldn't end will for either of them she was sure. "But I don't think it was."

That gave her pause in gathering her notes. After slowly blinking a couple times, she looked up at him. Her lips were slightly parted as she studied him.

"You looked terrified for your friend." He said awkwardly, as if he was embarrassed to admit he had been a bit observant with her.

"Hermione, I swear if you're hiding from -."

Both Hermione and Krum's attention snapped over to Draco who – despite his words implying he was in a hurry looking for her – now looked bored.

She stood, forcing the legs of her chair to scrape loudly against the stone floors before she stood from the table. Hermione still was not in the mood to face Draco especially since he was still wearing the Potter Stinks badge. On her way out though, she did look over at Krum to give him, friendly advice. "It might be best if you wore more casual robes around the castle. Anyone can spot you a mile away with how red your uniform is." She walked off after that, not giving him a chance to reply. She had spotted Draco several times trying to make conversation with Krum at the Slytherin table. She was hoping that he would try to be friendly with Krum before he would think twice about trying to chase her down.

Draco's hand balled into a fist as he watched her walk off. He would give her time to cool down, but only because he knew they would be seeing each other in Snape's classroom for detention anyway.

"Is she your girlfriend?"

The question caught Draco off guard. Krum had been polite enough whenever Draco attempted at small talk, but this was the most the Bulgarian Seeker had ever said to him. Draco didn't like that it was about Hermione. Still, his only reply was: "No. My..." He tried to force himself to say it, but he couldn't. He was convince he would never see Hermione as his sister. "She's my friend. My parents adopted her."

There was a twinkle in Krum's eye as he glanced in the direction Hermione had ran off to. "I see." He seemed to be contemplating something before he looked back at Draco, giving him a friendly smile. "You mentioned you play as a Seeker in Quidditch?"


Hermione prepared herself to be told that her dream was nothing more than a dream. She woke up Saturday morning, ready to hear that it was a coincidence that the dreamless sleep draught worked perfectly after her realistic nightmare in the music room. She anticipated that she would be told that her migraines and headaches practically disappearing was nothing more than a coincidence. Attempting to convince herself that the nightmare was just a nightmare was what kept her sane.

Hermione decided that she would not bring up the fact that there was not even a speck of blood on the Remembrance page or anywhere else in The Scores Which Bring Life either, lest she wanted to appear like she was completely bonkers.

Instead, of flying into great detail though, she was simply staring at Dr. Augsen who seemed... unwell. Hermione was not one to judge, or care about looks on a deep level, but she grew concerned the longer she sat with her therapist. Dr. Augsen's hair did not glisten with it's usual sheen, and had enough flyaways to clue Hermione in that Dr. Augsen fashioned her hair in its signature bun without brushing it first. There were not just dark circles under her eyes, but bags. It was... the opposite of how she had ever looked. Hermione remembered the only other time her healer ever looked close to this, was when she woke up in the infirmary after she fell off of the Astronomy tower. She wondered for the first time in her life if Dr. Augsen ever needed a therapist herself.

"How are you doing today, Hermione?"

"Fine." Hermione answered with only a frown as any indication she hated the question. "How are you."

Dr. Augsen put took a deep breath before giving Hermione a bright smile that did not reach her eyes. "Quite well, it's nice of you to ask."

Hermione nodded and crossed her arms over her chest, discreetly hugging herself as she leaned forward. 'This is it, I have to tell her.' "I had a nightmare. One of the clearest ones I've ever had."

"Oh," Dr. Augsen didn't have her quick quill set up, another indication on how well she was actually feeling, but Hermione didn't remind her of it. She secretly hated the thing. "Do tell."

Hermione twisted the ring on her finger with her thumb, recalling the memory of her parents. She needed answers right now. She stewed on the Nightmare before deciding she needed to entertain that it might have been rubbish, despite how the clues she had only supported the fact that memory had in fact been tampered with.

She opened her mouth to tell Dr. Augsen about the nightmare before she acknowledged that the healer looked barely there. She sat with unfocused eyes as she rubbed the pad of her middle finger and thumb together. Hermione's shoulders slumped at the dejected feeling that hit her before it boiled away in anger. Hermione decided that she would stop attempting to beat around the bush and be direct as ever with Dr. Augsen. "Why did you weaken my dose of dreamless sleep draught?"

That caught the healer's attention and she blinked a few times as her sight came back into focus. "What?"

"Why did you weaken my dose of dreamless sleep draught?" It was one detail that stuck out to her in the nightmare. She knew she had been forced to drink calming draught and it was nearly an inky purple due to how strong it was. Hermione consulted several books in her personal collection and the library, and all concurred that the more transparent the dose, the weaker it was. It explained why her nightmares became more vivid.

If she had been paying attention, Dr. Augsen might have been able to come up with a suitable lie. "I did it because you needed to analyze your dreams more. I thought it would he-"

"My parents were murdered by a wizard, and Cornelius Fudge helped cover it up." Dr. Augsen immediately froze, her eyes brightened as she sat up until her spine locked into the usual perfect posture." The lack of immediate reassurance that it wasn't real was all Hermione needed to know that her therapist was aware of it. "You... knew my memory was altered." Tendrils of smoke curled from the fists balled in Hermione's lap. "You had me practice occulemency. Why?"

"Hermione -" Hermione kept her chin tilted down, but her eyes eyes settled on to Dr. Augsen's face with such a perfervid look, Dr. Augsen pulled her head back a little bit. 'She looks like... Narcissa.'

"I asked, why? Was it to reinforce what he had done? Did you want me to be terrorized by nightmares?" Hermione was breathing heavily, but she would not cry. Could not cry. She was beyond the point of collapsing into herself. If life refused to halt for her, she was determined she would have to keep moving with it.

"I would never -"

"BUT YOU DID!" Hermione shrieked and she felt something reminiscent of a tear in her throat, with how forceful she was. Before she knew what she was doing, she was on her feet. The smoke was billowing now, but she had enough sense to keep a reign on her power. "You did nothing to help me!"

"I did everything I could to help you." Dr. Augsen stood with her, Hermione could see that her therapist seemed to look more alive now. "The occulemency was to weaken the holds of the charms on your mind and I lowered the dose because it was working. The only way your body was trying to find a way out was through your dreams."

Hermione could see the logic behind Dr. Augsen's thinking – and maybe it did help – but Hermione could remember every time something had changed as if it all just happened yesterday. It was mishaps like hitting her head on a magical book or drinking Absinthe that seemed to set evocation of her memories in motion. If anything, the occlumency and draught only speed up the process. "Nothing you did helped!" She tucked her curls behind her ears and grabbed the back of her neck as she ran threw everything she knew. "Why did you not just tell me? Why did you let me think that it was a muggle who did it?"

A sigh came from her healer as she collapsed into her seat. "You wouldn't have been able to handle it if you had believed me." Her hands settled into her hair, instantly making her bun lopsided. 'I did help her. I made all the right decisions, right? I didn't - I didn't mess up with her, too.' Edward, her husband, told her it was too early to come back to work and she was starting to think he was right. She left, under the pretense that she could stop him from asking her questions if she pretended everything was normal.

Hermione hated hearing 'she couldn't handle it.' Too many times she had been told that. She closed her eyes and thought of everything she had that was near and dear to her; Her familiars, music, Draco, both Narcissa and Lucius - Harry, and Ron. Magic. She needed to get herself together. She vowed that never again would someone even think she couldn't handle something.

"Let's start over. When did you have the dream? How have you felt since then?" Hermione looked up from the floor to see that Dr. Augsen was trying to regain her foothold on the session. She had finally removed her journal from the briefcase she carried, but she looked determined to hand write everything rather than use her Quick Quill. Hermione wondered if the feel of something solid between her therapists fingers helped her remain grounded, too. "I'm sure you've still have nightmares. We need to establish a new foundation for us to continue therapy. Relearning the basics of your boundaries -"

Hermione turned ashen at what Dr. Augsen was saying. "But in the very least, I can make the most of my time and study every bit of you I can. It'll be easy to determine the basics, lessening the time it will take to triage you once we're all back in England." The memory of Osman keeping her in the room, the doctors bag lying on his bed...

"No."

Dr. Augsen paused and blinked at Hermione's retreating form several times. "Hermione -"

"All you asked me to do was trust you and you ruined that." Hermione's chest was rapidly rising and falling. Her vision blurred around the edges and she was seeing herself surrounded by the furniture in Dormir à Lyon Hostel. McGonagall's desk was replaced by a bed and the fireplace had turned into an all too familiar radiator. 'No, no,. no, she wants to take me back. She works with Osman, I know it.' Hermione nearly screamed, but her shaky hand found purchase on the door handle, allowing her to fling open the office door and run as far as she could from McGonagall's office.


Hermione trudged through the dungeon hallways shaking and hunched in on herself. 'I want to be a model student. I need to be a model student. Just get to detention. Just get to detention.' Further evidence that a memory charm had been lifted, she no longer got migraines or headaches before the incoming flashback, although they were more than present afterwards. She had vomited twice leaving the alcove she hid in on the second floor when she was coming down from the mild vision.

Finally, she found herself trying to pry Snape's door open. It was always heavier than the other doors she had used at Hogwarts – save the the Astronomy Tower ones – and she was proving near impossible to move it after she felt as if her body had been wrung like a wet rag. After struggling for a minute straight, she gave up and pounded on the door with her fist.

She could hear the footfalls approaching and she stepped back just as Snape opened the door. "While I appreciate that you have arrived on time, Miss Granger, there is no need to make a racket ion the hallway." Hermione didn't even bother to look up at Snape as she passed him and entered the classroom. "Clean your face, Miss Granger. I've told you once last year you will not be given my sympathy in the classroom and I have no intentions of going back on what I said this year."

'Bastard.' Hermione threw herself atop one of the empty stools and wiped at her face. She didn't care to mentally reprimand herself on the barbed thought of her Potions Professor. She meant it wholeheartedly. 'I don't want anyone's sympathy.' She did, however, hold on to the anger that Snape had caused to rise in her. Hate, anger, and everything of the like were such solid emotions. They were something that she could stand on, and now she hung on to them for dear life. She could feel the weight of Draco's stare on her from the other side of the room, but she didn't look at him. She was no longer cross with him, but she was... preoccupied with trying to compartmentalize her feelings and recent events. 'I have to keep moving.'

Draco looked back at Snape who had not moved from the door. His godfather simply raised an eyebrow and pointed a finger at Draco before he slid it in Hermione's direction. His meaning was clear and he turned on his heel, leaving the two teens to talk.

Draco didn't move until the door had shut. Draco silently mused that Hermione must have found something extremely interesting about her unfiled nails as she was inspecting them with such care, it could have held the answer to the Age Line she was wanting to decipher. He sank on to a stool at the desk she was sitting at, across from Hermione. "I didn't mean to have that hex hit you. I wanted to pull you out of the way."

"I figured as much." Her voice was heavy with fatigue and he found himself able to breathe a little easier now that the guilt he was harbouring for the last day was gone. However, it was quickly replaced with an increasing amount of concern – something that often happened with Hermione. He still found it strange that she was the only one who could easily elicit such emotions from him. He went to speak, but she unknowingly interrupted him first. "What would you do if you found out that your parents had been murdered and their deaths had been covered up by the Ministry?"

Draco's mouth audibly parted as he considered where a question like this may have come from. He wasn't fond of Hermione's therapist – never was – and knowing that she just came from a session with her, he felt as if the gates of hell just swung open with Hermione's question.

Hoping it as a theoretical question, he answered with the first honest answer that came to mind. "I suppose I would actually find a way to become the the Head of the Department involved and ruin the lives of anyone involved." Draco put his hands over hers as he took her in. She looked... dreadful. Her skin was pink, but was no where near the near rose colour of her eyes that were surrounded by puffy skin. He was hoping the day where she didn't look distraught half the time was coming sooner rather than later. He wouldn't fault her if he had to do her task for her. She looked like hell spat her out when the gates opened.

After a minute of silence, she gripped his fingers, and his grey eyes met her brown. He knew then that how she felt on the inside, didn't match how she looked on the outside. Her eyes, while still agitated from her tears, were clear and bright as she stared him down with an intensity that had him pull back a fraction of an inch. He had only seen that type of manic revenge in Lucius.

"Osman Fudge killed my parents, and I want him dead."


"And you feel no remorse for killing your own parents?"

"None at all." And it was true. Osman Fudge was there when his father showed one of the first signs of a stroke. He had been out of sorts ever since he and his mother retrieved him from the Malfoy Manor, but he had never slurred his speech before. Osman, being in the medical field himself, knew what was coming. Cornelius did not and started to panic when he couldn't move an arm. Osman coaxed his father into laying in bed, saying he just needed to rest, hoping his father would die in bed.

But Cornelius had survived.

When Osman returned to his parents' bedroom later in the day, his father was alive, the right side of Cornelius' body was completely paralyzed. He couldn't move on his own, and most importantly, he couldn't run, so Osman thought he ought to finish the job himself – especially since that was what he promised Marchbanks in the first place.

"Are you sure it won't be traced back to you?"

''You,' she says.' He hoped by taking out his father, he would have been put back into her good graces, but she was as cryptic as ever with her working. 'Never 'us.' Always 'you' or 'I.'' "Of course it won't." She raised a dark eyebrow, a silent request for him to explain himself. "After I found he wouldn't die from the stroke alone, I injected potassium with a syringe under his tongue to induce a heart attack. By the time I reported his death, his potassium levels would have returned to normal and no one would need to look for a puncture wound to explain the elevated levels. Ingenious, if I do say so myself."

Marchbanks eyes narrowed. "If you say so." Osman nervously licked his lips. He was often good with people - especially the older generation – but he could not seem to please her. "And your mother?"

"It wasn't hard to stage her suicide. I used her own wand to Avada her before I planted the wand on her." This at least got him an approving nod from his Minister. A silence fell between them and he considered asking about Hermione. The question must have been clear as day on his face as Marchbanks answered the unspoken question.

"Don't ask. I shouldn't have to keep reminding you that we will move at my pace." She stretched her spine to its full length as she stared him down. 'If only he was less unhinged, I could probably replace that creature, Andromeda Tonks, with him.' It had taken a lot of digging, even with her title as Minister of Magic, but she finally found the declassified files on who Dr. Augsen really was. She found it disgusting at first, but Marchbanks refused to believe she had ever been dealt a hand she couldn't handle. Regardless, Dr. Augsen and 'her kind' was something she would have to work to eradicate later. She had other priorities.

The door opened and a short, paunchy woman dressed from head to toe in pink side stepped into the Minister's office with a soft, but curt "Ahem." In the entire Ministry, she was the only one the Minister had given clearance to walk into the office at any time as she was Machbank's oldest and dearest friend.

"Oh, Osman," Minister Marchbanks stood and raised a warm, beckoning arm to the woman standing by the door. The woman walked forward and sat in the second chair seated across from Marchbanks' desk. "I am establishing a new position at the Ministry and I would like to use St. Mungo's as a bit of a pilot location for a new Ministry position."

Osman looked over at the woman beside him. Her nose looked too small for her face and her eyebrows were finely tweezed. While she had a smile on her face, it was no doubt plastered on as her eyes looked as friendly as a bowtruckle's.

"Please be sure to take care of High Inquisitor Dolores Umbridge. She'll be spending quiet a bit of time at St. Mungo's as we determine what powers she should and shouldn't have in an establishment."

He gave a polite nod, not wanting to be overtly friendly. He was not happy in the slightest to have another Ministry Official shoved into his territory, but he finally learned how to pick and choose his battles with Marchbanks.

The smile Umbridge wore only grew, so now the skin around her eyes and mouth wrinkled. "I have the feeling we're going to be the best of friends."

Marchbanks gave a devilish grin. While the mess she inherited from the late Cornelius Fudge was rough, she didn't mind it. She was forced to wait on her plans, drawing out the debts she owed as she broke bread with half breeds, but in the end, she thought it would all be worth it. After all, Albus Percival Wulfric Brian Dumbledore is the most powerful sorcerer alive. She would need to gain loyalty from her immediate peers and get what she wanted from Fudge's research, before she would be able to kill him.


A/N:

ForeverTheWhiteTiger: Thank you! I appreciate that.

MionePls: Oh you and me both. I am so happy I can finally get away from it.

BookLover1670: I hope this was a nice little treat then!

ConstellationLover: Thank you!

MotekElm: Thank you for pointing that out, friend! I hope all is well with you.

CheriB: Thank you :)

Nygual: Your grammar is fine and thank you so much. I appreciate that.

LucyMaudMontgomery: Thank you :)

Alice Helena: YOU AND ME BOTH.

Omg, Lucius being judge by the Muggle girl had me rolling lol.

Alice1420: ¡Jajaja, giro de la trama!

Jade: haha, she would have too much power xD

Cool: AH, THANK YOU SO MUCH. Welcome, btw.

Neecole05: Thank you and welcome! I am happy you are enjoying it.

Beth324: Omg, thank you so much! And welcome!

Voldinette: Ah, welcome to my fic! I am happy to hear you are enjoying it. Thank you so much for the correction, I did use Google Translate and I will be correcting that ASAP :)