A/NCW: allusions to past abuse (non-graphic imagery). Hermione also goes into a bit of a spiral here.
Betawork done by december_noon, rosenymphadoraweasley5, and crookshankscrew.
I want to say that this chapter wouldn't have been put out without crookshankscrew. She talked me down when I got in my feels and you owe her for a part of this chapter (see notes at the end)
peace and love,
sam
McGonagall summoned the prospective students to her office after the feast. Hermione counted the students in her head and there were twice as many as expected. Her brow furrowed in confusion. Before she could point this out to the unfortunate soul standing next to her, their Headmistress once again commanded the room.
"Thank you all for coming. For now, I will only need some of you at the front of the room," McGonagall began as she rounded her desk in a flurry of black robes. Hermione allowed a small smile at the thought that Professor Snape would've been proud of the Headmistress' theatrics.
Hermione glanced around the room and noticed all the ways McGonagall had infused her own taste into the office. There was a charmed board to update the Quidditch standings blocking one of the bookcases. Gryffindor colors not so subtly accented the decor with red throw pillows and gold detailing on the furniture. Two framed photos took the prime spots on the desk and pulled Hermione's focus.
One showcased Hermione, Harry, and Ron during their fourth year. It was taken after Harry had won the second task and they were all soaking wet and crowded together on the dock. Honestly, the three of them had looked worse. The other photo nearly broke Hermione's heart.
The Marauders.
James had his arm slung around Lily's shoulder and they were in the process of turning to look at each other. Remus was sandwiched between Sirius and Marlene, who were kissing him on each cheek. Peter was presumably in the part of the photo that Hermione noticed was folded back.
Photos of her students. Reminders. Reminders of all she'd lost and all she'd continue to protect.
While McGonagall had added her own stamp on the space, the Headmistress's office seemed like a shrine to her predecessors in some corners. Dumbledore's candy dishes littered one side of the desk. Fawkes' perch was tucked away by the portrait of the former headmaster. The frame of said portrait was currently empty.
Perhaps he was visiting one of his portraits at the Ministry and terrorizing Kingsley with cryptic messages about doing things for the greater good.
Snape's touches were subtler. Cauldrons and a small potion supply cabinet sat to Hermione's left. A subtle serpent weaved around the borders of the desk. If the Slytherin pride had been any more overt, McGonagall would have surely discarded it. She had a reputation to uphold as a stalwart Gryffindor. Hermione noticed that Snape's portrait was occupied as she surveyed the room. He looked at the students with as much disdain on his painted mien as if he were stuck teaching first-years the uses of a Bezoar.
As he met her eyes, he gave her the briefest of nods. It was downright affectionate for him.
McGonagall's voice pulled Hermione out of her reverie. "You've no doubt noticed that the number of students present exceeds my previous announcement. The program is voluntary. If any of the pre-selected students decide to opt-out, the alternates will be called in, and I'd rather not wait for you all to amble your way through the castle to begin."
No one was shocked by the proclamation. Minerva McGonagall did not tolerate ambling, bumbling, loitering, lingering, or any type of dawdling.
The elder witch placed her spectacles on the tip of her nose and settled into her seat. Either she was oblivious or disinterested in the anxious energy permeating her office as students waiting for her to read from a piece of parchment.
Hermione would place her bet on the latter.
"If I call your name, please step forward. Padma Patil, Michael Corner, Hannah Abbott, Ernie MacMillan, Hermione Granger, Seamus Finnegan, Pansy Parkinson, and Blaise Zabini."
Before anyone had a chance to settle into their positions, Pansy spoke up, "Headmistress, I'd like to opt-out." All movement ceased as the nosy teens waited to see how the scene would play out.
McGonagall looked unsurprised, "Would you care to hear more about the program before you make your decision Miss Parkinson?"
"No. That won't be necessary. I would like to remain in Slytherin. I don't feel I'll be particularly wanted anywhere else, and I do still have a bit of house pride," Pansy replied in a saccharine tone. Hermione sensed the reasons were more involved than Pansy was willing to divulge, but the Headmistress didn't push too hard. The program was supposed to be voluntary after all.
"Very well. Miss Parkinson, you are dismissed to your dormitory. Tracey Davis, step forward if you please," McGonagall waved her hand to encourage everyone to swiftly take their places. Pansy turned on a heel and sauntered out the door.
"Now, as I stated, you will each spend the Autumn term in another house. As we are all aware tensions will likely run high, we've tried to take that into consideration when determining your placements. Additionally, if any member of your host house behaves inappropriately, you may report directly to me and may request to withdraw from the program." McGonagall pulled pieces of parchment from her desk and floated them to each student in the room.
"These are the rules of the program. You will notice that certain activities will be performed with your primary house. The Governors felt this would simplify the transition after the holidays and give you all a reprieve."
Hermione skimmed the parchment.
Students will move into their host house and room with members of the host house.
Students are encouraged to refrain from extraneous visits to their primary house common rooms.
Students will attend classes with their primary house.
Students will earn and lose points for their primary houses to prevent intentional House Cup sabotage.
The choice of robe colors is up to the individual depending on how much they wish to integrate into their host house.
Meals are to be eaten with the host house. No exceptions.
Students in the program may participate in Quidditch and play with their primary house.
Any student selected to be a Prefect will be assigned to their primary house.
"As an additional incentive for you all to make an effort, the Governors have agreed to host a Winter Festival before the holiday break. The festival is contingent on positive experiences from the exchange program. Should more than half of the participants withdraw from the program or if there is an increase in disciplinary issues as a result, the festival will not be held," McGonagall continued reading from a parchment laying out the specifics of the program.
Toeing the company line, Minerva? Hermione couldn't help but notice that McGonagall seemed perturbed by having to conduct this experiment her first year in charge of Hogwarts.
Leave it to the Governors to think a silly carnival would motivate teenagers with PTSD and lingering trauma to play nice. Had Hermione bothered to look up from the parchment, she would have seen this idea was not as farcical as she thought. The others in the room seemed positively giddy to have another event and another chance at normalcy.
"Any questions?"
Hermione raised her hand.
"Yes, Miss Granger?" McGonagall stated without looking up from her parchment. Chuckles broke out around the room at the predictability but Hermione ignored them.
"The program is only for a term? Is it possible for individuals to volunteer for next term as well?" Hermione tried to keep her voice calm despite the trepidation she felt. "If the program is successful, perhaps providing more students the opportunity to understand our classmates would be considered."
If she could extend this for the full year, she'd be set to start her life after Hogwarts and the whole Ron problem would hopefully be well behind her. However, she couldn't let on too much. Her present company couldn't necessarily be trusted for discretion. Discord in the Golden Trio would undoubtedly make The Daily Prophet, and Skeeter would assuredly blame Hermione for it. All of that was attention she didn't need.
"An interesting proposition. I'll pass that idea to the Governors after the evaluation of the trial period. Maybe they'll consider it for next year," McGonagall sounded impressed, but Hermione's heart sank. She had one term to figure out another solution as she would definitely be back in Gryffindor by January.
"You all will be informed of your host house assignment shortly. Should any of you wish to withdraw before then, the parchment with the rules is charmed. Simply write recedere and it will alert me to your choice. I have faith in all of you which is why I hand-selected you for this project. Don't disappoint me," McGonagall dismissed them with a wave of her hand and a stern look.
The Gryffindor common room was buzzing with anticipation as they awaited Seamus and Hermione's return. The moment the portrait door swung open, fifteen teenagers began speaking at once trying to determine where their friends would be spending the term.
"SHUT IT!" Ginny hollered over the chaos, effectively silencing everyone.
"Works every time…" Harry said fondly, sending her a wink. Ginny rewarded Harry with a hard punch to the arm and a glare.
"We don't know where we're going yet," Hermione started. "Our assignments are supposed to arrive soon and then we'll move into our new dorms." Hermione then launched into the story of what happened in McGonagall's office with frequent interruptions by Seamus.
As the crowd dispersed, Hermione held Ginny and Harry back. "Promise me you'll be nice to whoever gets sent here," she pleaded. As Ginny started to agree, Hermione held up a hand, "even if they're Slytherins. Please."
Harry reluctantly nodded and Ginny rolled her eyes, "Fine. We won't be throwing a parade, but I promise not to shove them down a flight of stairs. And you're helping me with classes whenever I want." Ginny playfully wagged a finger in her face to emphasize her demand.
Hermione shook her head, "Like that wasn't already the plan."
The trio made their way to the seating area in front of the fireplace where Ron, Dean, and Seamus sat.
"Seamus says you could've backed out. Why didn't you, Hermione?" Ron turned on her before she'd even sat down.
"This program—it's important to McGonagall. I want–I'm just doing my part Ronald," she stuttered.
"Always doing your part for everyone else it seems," he huffed as he rose from his armchair. He stalked toward her and crossed his arms. Ron tilted his head, a signal he was waiting for a better explanation.
The tension he'd created with such a simple action was thick in the common room. Everyone expected Hermione to unleash her infamous wrath on the ginger wizard. Perhaps a lecture about house unity or doing one's duty. The Hermione Granger of old likely would have presented a well-organized argument about being a war hero and the responsibilities and sacrifices that came with it.
That Hermione Granger was gone.
The current version of Hermione had learned to pick her battles. She'd learned that bullet points and articulate ideas were no match for unbridled anger. She'd learned that sometimes the right answer was to stay silent. So she remained silent and let the tension fizzle.
"Maybe 'Mione is hoping to go to Ravenclaw for a semester. The common room library is legendary," Dean offered.
"Leave it to 'Mione to be seduced away from us by some books," Harry contributed with a smirk in her direction. Hermione offered them all a small smile. A smile that was likely interpreted as a shy admission but was really one of thanks to these people who kept offering her a way out of distressing situations.
While most of the common room moved on to an exploding snap tournament, Dean–thankfully– pulled Ron into a game of wizarding chess, allowing her a brief reprieve from his intense glare. Hermione pondered through what her response should have been to Ron.
How dare he insinuate that she hadn't done enough for those closest to her? She'd sacrificed so much for them to the detriment of her own needs.
No one held her through the nightmares filled with Crucio and bloody corpses of her classmates. No one went with her to Healers who told her the word carved into her arm was permanent. It took a month before even Ginny had started to notice the shell Hermione had become. When she said she'd found her parents, no one asked how long it would take for them to get their memories back or how Hermione coped with the fact that maybe they never would.
Who held George while he shaved his head and sobbed for the twin he lost?
She did.
When Harry had battled the guilt at every single funeral they attended because he'd survived and they didn't, who had convinced him that their sacrifices were not in vain, and certainly not his fault? And when her words weren't enough and he'd drowned his sorrows in Firewhisky, who sat with him while he exorcised his demons; crying for all the parental figures he'd watched die.
She did.
When Ron had needed constant reassurance about what happened when she and Harry had been alone in the tent, she'd given him detailed accounts while under goddamn Veritaserum. And when Ron had taken all of his frustration, grief, and anger out on her body, who had kept his secret?
She fucking did.
Had she been stronger, she'd have told Ron to piss off when he dared question her dedication to her friends. She would have stormed up to him, finger jabbing into his chest, to ensure he got the point that she was not to be trifled with.
But this was her reality now. Living in the should-haves and what-ifs.
Sometimes she felt as though she were buried under all the missed chances. All the scenarios of how her life could have been different were strangling her. The unfulfilled potential was stifling. Decaying versions of the Hermione she was and all the versions she'd never be piled up in the corners of her psyche.
They were stored next to memories of tears, blood, and bruises.
A hand on her shoulder pulled Hermione from the dark hellscape of her thoughts. Her entire body jerked and Hermione winced internally knowing the reaction was too extreme. Ginny just moved closer and draped an arm around her.
"Where'd you go?"
"Just lost in my head. I took a wrong turn and ended up in a dodgy part." Ginny chuckled at the comparison while Hermione leaned her head on the redhead's shoulder. Her words were as honest as she could get right now.
"Do you want to talk about what lives in that dodgy part?" Ginny asked. There was no pressure in her tone, just an open invitation. Ginny could always be counted on to invite people to talk without making it seem like she was demanding answers. It's what made her good for Harry. She was there when you needed her but it never felt like she was smothering.
"No."
"Do you want to talk about what a git my brother is?"
They were headed into dangerous territory. "He's just frustrated. He'll apologize in the morning and we'll all move on."
"Maybe you shouldn't move on, Hermione. Maybe you should hold his arse accountable for the shit he says to you. He can't keep using his grief and the war as an excuse to be an utter cunt," Ginny rebuked.
This conversation was getting too close to the real issue. Ron was lashing out, but this was tame in comparison to his past actions. Hermione couldn't let this conversation continue down this path. Especially if she wanted to avoid a complete breakdown in the middle of the common room.
"Are you mad at me for participating in the exchange?" Hermione asked in a small voice as she turned to look at one of her best friends. Her eyes pleading for support.
"Of course not. I could never be mad at you. Not for long," Ginny assured her. "Harry will miss you but I'm sure I can properly distract him." Ginny cocked a suggestive eyebrow and laughed at Hermione's look of disgust.
"Maybe it'll be good for us to spend some time apart," Hermione suggested as she leaned into Ginny's side. "After a year of camping, a press tour, and essentially living together all summer… I'm quite looking forward to some space from you all. Especially if your distraction techniques include any of the activities I've witnessed this summer."
Hermione exaggerated a shiver. "I burned those throw pillows by the way. You two are disgusting."
Ginny shoved her off, feigning offense. As the two witches laughed together, Hermione hoped that one day that laugh wouldn't feel so hollow.
Hermione made her way into her room ready to collapse after this exhausting first day. On the bed was a roll of parchment sealed with the Hogwarts crest. McGonagall had told them their assignments would be distributed soon and Hermione was suddenly nervous about where she'd go. Anywhere was better than sharing a common room with Ron, but she certainly had preferences.
As Hermione pondered her assignment, she heard shouting from the common room. "Bloody Ravenclaw! Me?! How am I supposed to survive a whole fucking term answering bloody riddles with a whole house of bloody swots…"
Poor Seamus, Hermione thought. Maybe I'll get him a book of riddles so he doesn't end up sleeping in the corridors.
Her hands shook as she picked up the parchment and broke the seal. She skimmed the rules that had already been discussed and found her fate at the bottom of the page.
Slytherin.
crookshankscrew's addition was the 2nd photo on Minnie's desk. She suggested a photo of Harry's parents and it broke me so I wrote it ;)