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The only person on the entire platform at Kings Cross who looks relieved about returning to Hogwarts is Draco Malfoy. His parents are nowhere in sight. That's no surprise as they're essentially captives in their own home, from what Hermione understands. Malfoy strides over to them near the entrance projecting a confidence at odds with his ravaged looks.
Hermione doesn't acknowledge him, but she doesn't turn him away either. She can't help her eyes scanning the place for that familiar tall figure, with its shock of black hair and bright green eyes. But all she sees are worried families, reluctant to be parted. Even those who had never been that keen on Dumbledore, even Slytherin families who actively disliked him, look more than usually serious. It's both a good sign, and a very bad one.
They walk together, the five of them, past the Weasleys who are looking anxious and strained as they say goodbye to their only daughter, who glares at Draco Malfoy. She's not the only one, of course. Head after head turns as they catch his white-blond one, before bending to whisper to their companions. Hermione wonders what it is costing him to come back among them, having let the wolves in at the door. She hopes a great deal.
She is attracting speculative looks as well. Most of the school believes - correctly - that she is a Muggleborn. They must think she's mad. She dreads to think what they will say about her for allowing the pretence that she is not. But she can't help Harry Potter from America or France or wherever else she might have gone. They duck onto the train, out of sight but not, she suspects, out of mind.
"All right you lot. Theo and I will be back in about an hour. Make sure you get a good compartment - ideally not with Malfoy's hired muscle if you can help it." Daphne smirks at this, but Malfoy just stares blankly at the ground.
She and Theo change into their robes in the empty Prefects' carriage and pin their new badges to their robes.
"Why am I so fucking scared they're going to come and take me away too?" Hermione asks afterwards, watching sadly as black-robed figures escort a family off the platform. "God this is bleak."
He puts an arm around her shoulders. "They'd have to come through a few of us to get to you, you know."
She's not sure about that, if it came to it, but it's a nice thing to say anyway.
"Speech all prepared?" he murmurs, knowingly.
"Oh shut up. I bet you've got one too."
His navy eyes dance as he manoeuvres her away from the window. "Granger, I don't need to write my speeches. I am too naturally talented."
Theo lounges, quiet and assessing, next to her as the prefects gather in the carriage. His surname carries its own distinction in these times, and the looks cast at him are rather cautious. She notes that Ginny Weasley is not among the Gryffindors. It's Romilda Vane, who catches Hermione looking and gives an arrogant toss of her hair. It's politically safe choices all around, all but Hermione herself. One they've counted a full contingent, she and Theo stand and introduce themselves.
"Morning, everyone," he starts, with a charming smile. "I'm Theo Nott. Now, I've never been in here for one of these speeches so I don't really know the form. But then this isn't a normal year is it?" He pauses and looks around. "Your most important job this year is to keep everyone safe. There's a war going on outside the castle, and people inside it are caught up in all sorts of ways. But that's not a war any of us have chosen. We have been entrusted with the future of Wizarding Britain - and Granger and I expect you all to care for students in all houses." Theo runs a hand through his chestnut curls. "Look, I don't know the Carrows but I've heard pretty bad things. If there was ever a time to keep out of trouble, it's now."
She can see surprise on more than one face at this speech and hopes her own isn't one of them. Theo steps back and she knows it's her turn.
"I'm Hermione Granger and I'm afraid Theo's stolen all my best lines. I can't tell you what it's going to look like when we get there - but please know you can come to us with anything. I mean that. Think of us as neutral territory. We just want to keep everyone safe if we can. Now please come and introduce yourselves to us properly. The patrol sheet is up there."
With a flick of Hermione's wand the sheet of parchment unfurls. She and Theo spend about half an hour meeting all the prefects, some of whom stay to take advantage of the roomier carriage, and some of whom drift off.
They've been on the Hogwarts Express for about forty-five minutes when it grinds to a halt, brakes squealing as though it has run over a family of banshees. A moment later the door to their carriage is thrust open. Three Death Eaters barge in. She freezes. They've come for me, she thinks wildly. They've found out and they've come.
"What's the meaning of this?" Theo asks, all cool civility as he steps forward, slightly blocking Hermione from view.
"We're looking for Harry Potter," the front one says. Hermione wonders why she hadn't thought of that before. She's had so much time to get used to the idea that he's not going to be there that she has forgotten the Death Eaters might be expecting him.
"And you thought he'd be hiding in the prefects' carriage?" she asks, with extreme politeness, moving to stand next to Theo. "It's alright everyone. Please go and warn your houses to let these, er, gentlemen search the train without incident." The prefects hurry off gladly. "Do feel free to start with ours," Hermione adds in her sweetest tone gesturing around at the empty carriage.
They stomp out and she and Theo exchange a very long glance.
"Well," he says, "they seemed nice. Come on, let's go and check they don't kill or maim any students."
"I thought- "
"I know, Granger - so did I."
"Soft git. Come on."
The step out into a scene of some chaos. It seems many of the students have not taken the advice to let the Death Eaters search their carriages quietly. Hermione does not understand these acts of defiance, which seem so small and only provoke violence back.
"My father will hear about this," one of the Gryffindors argues with a Death Eater who has rather spitefully opened his trunk and scattered the contents out. Parchment is swirling around. Another of the black-cloaked figures has his wand out, and is pointing it at a crowd of students. He is an enormous blond man and is sporting a rather magnificent pair of antlers, forcing him to bend almost double to fit under the train's ceiling.
The third is lying on the floor with great bats crawling out of his nose. Hermione's heart sinks, even as she tries to smother a grin. So much for keeping out of trouble.
"What part of 'without incident' do you think they heard?" she mutters to Theo.
"They're angry. I'm surprised it's not worse." He replies, also trying not to look amused.
"Excuse me," Hermione calls out. She thinks not for the first time that it is absolutely mad not to have teachers accompany students on the train. "What's going on?"
"One of this lot attacked us," the biggest Death Eater says, banging the antlers on the ceiling and cursing.
"Now, now, Rowle," Theo says smoothly, "it's a childish hex. Hermione will fix it, and we'll send whoever carried out this prank to the headmaster for punishment. Did you happen to see…?"
"Oh it's you is it Nott? Well," the Death Eater looks unsure. "I'm not sure about that."
"Found Potter yet?" Malfoy's haughty voice cuts through the crowd. He's leaning against the doorway in a way she wasn't sure he was still capable of, like he's pulled on a cloak of assurance somehow.
"What that's? Oh it's you is it. Potter? No sign of him. But look what one of this lot has done to Dolohov."
Malfoy steps forward and peers down at the prone man.
"Nasty," he comments, with something of his old smirk. "But hardly fatal."
"I think I was hit with one of those in my third year," Blaise muses, following him. "Do you remember? Madam Pomfrey found it highly amusing."
"Oh, yes Blaise - that was terribly funny though," Daphne chimes in. She sends Rowle one of her most beguiling smiles.
"Second year, wasn't it?" Malfoy asks him.
Rowle, naturally, both blusters and blushes at this performance. Hermione is very determinedly not looking at Ginny Weasley, who pretty every single student in the corridor must know is the inventor of this particular bat-related jinx. Hermione ends the bats' journey, with a flick of her wand. The bat-bogey hex does not usually have the side-effect of making people pass out so she assumes someone has stunned Dolohov, but she leaves him on the floor for the moment.
"Please return to your compartments," she says, seizing control of the situation while the two conscious Death Eaters try to work out if Malfoy, who is one of them after all, and the other Slytherins are being rebellious. "The next person to pull any childish pranks on the train will find they are missing Hogsmeade for the rest of the year."
Blaise and Draco make a show of snickering at this and, rather wide-eyed, the group of Gryffindors disperse. Hermione restores Dolohov to consciousness.
"I'm so sorry for all the trouble," she says in her sweetest tone as he struggles to his feet blearily. "Is there anything else we can do for you? And, er, - Mr Rowle is it? Did you have those when you arrived?" she asks, gesturing to his head.
Once he has called her a stupid girl, and she has de-antlered him, the three men beat a fairly hasty retreat, and the train gets moving again.
Hermione and Theo follow the others into their compartment, whereupon she bursts into tears.
"Oh," she says, throwing her arms around Blaise and Daphne, "you stupid idiots."
"Merlin's pants, Granger," Malfoy says, bemused, "what's got into you?"
"Did you know she could cry?" Zabini asks, equally baffled.
"Of course I did," Theo replies smugly. "She's always doing it, isn't she Daph?"
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As they get off the train, Hermione, cool composure restored, passes Ginny Weasley.
"Detention, Weasley," she murmurs as she does. "Tomorrow night after dinner."
"But -" Ginny Weasley protests.
"We can discuss it, and anything else, at your detention. Tomorrow night," she says rather more pointedly. Understanding breaks over the girl's face and she follows it with a decent scowl.
"Fine," she says, tossing her beautiful hair as she spins around and strides off. Hermione admires the flare of temper she'd put into it. She's reckless, but she's definitely not stupid.
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The atmosphere in the Great Hall that night during the Sorting and the feast is tense. Professor Snape gives a short speech after dinner, which Hermione thinks is extremely brave of him, in which he details new safety measures, tells them to stay away from Dementors, and manages to somehow simultaneously convey his extreme displeasure at their presence while appearing to respectfully introduce the Carrow siblings.
"I don't like this," Hermione murmurs to Theo, keeping an interested smile pasted on her face. "I don't like this at all. Muggle studies?"
"I know."
Malfoy is looking everywhere but at Alecto Carrow, as the new Deputy Head announces the mandatory subject, and with malicious glee, that all punishments will have to go through her or her brother. Hermione will have to find another way to speak to Ginny Weasley. But she's clearly going to have to: the Gryffindors are as one looking thunderous and defiant and none more so than the redhead. She meets her eyes and gives a little shrug to say never mind that then. Weasley purses her lips in acknowledgement.
She lets Theo take charge of speaking to the new intake of Slytherins that night and laying out a mandate to the house that they're not to escalate tensions. He's better at it than she is, and even troublemakers like Geraint Rosier in fifth year listen to him. Hermione might scare them but she knows Theo is granted an automatic respect that she is not.
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Their first lesson the next morning is Potions, which sets entirely the wrong tone for the rest of the day. While it's clear that Professor Slughorn is less cheerful than he was the year before, he greets them - all but Malfoy anyway - fondly and sets them brewing Tranquility Tinctures.
Next is Defence Against the Dark Arts, which runs very much less smoothly. They've been put with the Gryffindors yet again, a decision Hermione has always found baffling in this particular class and never more so than now.
Amycus Carrow is a clammy looking little man with pale skin and eyes that set Hermione's skin crawling. He halts on her name as he takes the register and looks up. His expression is a little greedy.
"Ah yes, Miss Granger. The Headmaster has assured us of your… abilities." The word is filthy in his mouth. "I look forward to witnessing them myself."
She smiles back at him as warmly as she can and when he looks back down at the list of names she exchanges one, quick, speaking look with Theo.
It takes less than half an hour for him to reveal his sadistic streak. The victim is Seamus Finnegan, and the crime is, of course, defiance.
Finnegan quite justly takes exception to Professor Carrow's opening lecture on Defence Against the Dark Arts - which has very little emphasis on defence. As he lists in brutal detail the curses and hexes he will be teaching them Finnegan sticks his hand up.
"I was wondering when you'll be teaching us some actual defence, Sir?"
"What's your name?" Carrow asks. He's lit up with glee at the question and his smile reveals his rather yellow teeth.
"Seamus Finnegan."
"Come up here, Mr Finnegan, and I will demonstrate."
Looking a little less brave, the Irish boy sticks his chin in the air and steps forward. He's the only boy left in his house. Dean Thomas is Muggleborn and the other three have vanished on their quest. Hermione feels a surge of pity and respect for him as he walks forward. She can see Parvatil Patil and Lavender Brown clutching hands out of the corner of her eye.
"You may use anything you like to defend yourself," Carrow tells Seamus. "On three."
Seamus Finnegan bats away the first one, but the second Cruciatus Curse has him screaming on the floor. It goes on and on for what might be hours or seconds.
"As you can see," he tells the class, "the best defence is of course, attack. Now, Mr Finnegan, get up and thank me for the lesson."
"This might be worse than we thought," Theo says at lunch, staring down at his plate. He's still eaten a healthy amount, she notes. Boys. He looks cheerful and relaxed. But she can see the grimness in his eyes and the way his smile never touches them.
"That was creepy right?" she asks, dropping her voice, fake smile pasted on. "Even for... one of Them?"
"I mean it's not like I've seen many of them in action, but yeah. And I didn't like how he looked at you."
Hermione, who has not managed to eat much of her own lunch, pushes at the food on her plate. She hadn't even taken in what it was. Roast chicken, she sees. It turns her stomach.
It becomes clear in their first mandatory Muggle Studies lesson with Alecto Carrow that it is indeed going to be worse than they'd thought. All four houses take the class together, in a classroom previously only used for exams. The new professor begins the class by taking the register. One missed entry, she informs them, will mean detention. Three without approved medical leave will mean expulsion.
Like her brother, Carrow begins with a register. She reads out the names in her unpleasant voice, nasal and growly at the same time, pausing over some names more tellingly than others: Bones, Susan prompts the first scowl, while Crabbe, Vincent gets what might in another woman pass for a warm smile. There is no Finch-Fletchley, Justin, of course. When she calls out Granger, Hermione, she, like her brother, stops and looks up.
"Present," Hermione says.
"But now, Granger, hmm?" Alecto Carrow says, rising and making her way to where Hermione is sitting between Theo and Zabini. "Our illustrious Head Girl, no less. But surely there must be some mistake?"
"I don't believe there is, Professor," Hermione says as politely as she can. She feels a little shaky. She feels Theo's warm hand slide warningly over hers under the desk. He gives her a little pinch. After their DADA lesson he's insisted on sitting with her in this one too and she's glad of it. The castle seems a little less bleak with him at her shoulder.
"But Granger is a filthy Muggle name is it not?" Carrow asks. She spits out the word Muggle like it's a curse.
"Yes, Granger is a Muggle name," Hermione agrees.
"Your name is not Granger, Miss Gamp," Carrow says. She's so close Hermione can smell her breath. It's sickly and stale, laced with something like overripe - almost rotting - cherries. She thinks of her wonderful Muggle parents and what they would have to say about that. She thinks about what it would mean to deny them. What it would mean not to.
"My name is Granger, Professor Carrow. I have never gone by that other name." She hopes this is carefully worded enough to deflect the woman. It's not.
"But surely, you don't prefer that name?"
"It would be the very height of insolence," Theo cuts in very quietly, "when she has never been recognised by the Gamps. Who are, of course, now sadly dead."
Hermione imagines taking Alecto Carrow to meet the centaurs, and holds her breath as she focuses on that happy thought.
"Hmm," Carrow says, "and you are?"
"Theodore Nott, Professor," he says cordially. His navy eyes are frozen with dislike. She squeezes his hand, very slightly. She's not the only one with a complicated name.
Carrow eyes him.
"Yes, I knew your father. A very good man. Very well. Miss Ga - Miss Granger. Now who do we have next. Ah, yes. Greengrass, Daphne?"
"Present," Daphne says from Theo's other side. She makes a droll, exaggerated face at Hermione when Carrow turns her back and waddles back to the front of the classroom.
"Longbottom, Neville, has not yet graced us with his presence this year I am told," she mutters maliciously striking through his name. "Though no doubt he will be joining us soon."
She can tell it won't be the last of it. Professor Carrow finishes taking the register and moves on to laying out the syllabus. It's horrific and insane and, Hermione suspects, extremely effective.
"Now who can tell me what a Muggle is?" Carrow asks. Crabbe's hand shoots up. Hermione has never, not in six years, seen him volunteer an answer before.
"Go on Vincent."
"They're just animals, Professor. Scum."
Carrow smiles approvingly at him. "Five points to Slytherin for an adequate answer," she says. "But they're not just animals, they are also dangerous and infectious, as we will be learning. Now please turn to page one of your textbooks."
Hermione barely makes it through the class. She goes straight to the bathroom afterwards, pushing past Malfoy in the doorway without really seeing him. He follows her, though, darting in through the door behind her before it slams closed.
"This is a girls' bathroom, Malfoy," she snarls.
"Granger -"
"No, I don't want to talk to you. Get out."
He steps towards her instead.
"Get out," she says, voice shaking. She's about to lose control of the broiling storm of tears inside her. "Get out get out get OUT."
"I'm not going anywhere," he says, closer still.
" You did this," she says. "You did this. You let them come here."
"I know," he says roughly. "I know I did, and I'm so fucking sorry, Granger. I'm so sorry."
"It's too late to be sorry," she says shakily, shoving him backwards. "I had to sit in there and listen to that woman call my family - my wonderful, loving, brilliant, kind family - animals. I can't do this. I shouldn't have come back."
Malfoy takes a shuddering breath. He stares down at his hands as he continues, "I should have said this a long time ago, Granger, but -" he's stammering and unsure and she's never seen him like it. "Look. No one who knows you could think you were less than anyone else because of your birth. And I'm sorry, I'm really truly sorry, that it took me so long to see that. I'm sorry for all that shit I said to you - did to you."
"I defended you," she whispers. "And I wish I hadn't. Sorry doesn't mean anything, if you don't make it right. It's not just about me, you have to see that. It's wrong, what these people say - what you were raised to believe. It's wrong."
"He has my parents," he says, lowly. "He is living in my house. I watched him kill the old Muggle Studies teacher," he says, still staring fixedly down at his hands, like he can't bear to look at her while he confesses. He wipes at his eyes helplessly. "He did it on my dining room table. Tortured her and fed her to his snake. And there's nothing I can do. I'm just- I don't know what else to say. I'm sorry. I'll say it a thousand times if you want."
"I don't care any more," she tells him, honestly. "You trying to save your own parents has cost me mine, possibly forever. It's costing families all over this country. So I don't care. Your parents made this bed - let them lie in it. Now get out."
He looks very bleak as he leaves. She locks the door behind him and sinks to the floor, giving in to the tidal wave she's been holding back.
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We got the locket. Had a bit of an issue getting back to the house but managed it alright - Neville had to kick Yaxley in the face in the end cause he grabbed him while we apparated. Close call. It's horrible, the Horcrux. You can feel its dark heart beating when you hold it. Ron got splinched but he's alright thanks to that dittany you packed me. You're a genius, you know that? Now we just have to find out how to destroy it and find the rest… No big deal. I do wish there was another way in and out of this house. They're watching the front so carefully and today was a really close call. Any bright ideas in that amazing head of yours? Hope Hogwarts is alright - Carrows in the paper yesterday I saw. They seem even nicer than Umbridge.
WELL DONE although I assume that means you did go to the Ministry. You're a mad, brave creature Harry Potter. I couldn't think of anything so I asked Theo about the house, but didn't tell him why of course, and he said - and I am quoting verbatim - "Doesn't it have a roof, Granger?" So maybe see if there's a way you can get out onto that and climb over to the house next door? There's some spells for altering magical dwellings in Heart and Hearth by Alaina Wendover. It's in the library so I can copy out anything you need if you tell me, but your elf might be able to help as well. Everything is fine here, although the Carrows are not very pleasant. Malfoy is back - he apologised. Too little too late, I think. It's so weird not having you here. I keep catching myself looking for you.
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She spends the evening in the library, searching the Restricted Section, to which she has full and free access as Head Girl, for any mention of Horcruxes they might have missed last term. But any vague hope she had of the new regime filling it with horribly dark but helpful texts is dashed so she returns to the dungeons empty handed.
The one bright spot, she thinks as she gets ready for bed, is that Seventh Years don't have to sleep in great big dormitories and she, as the most senior of the five girls, has her own room. Daphne and Pansy are next door, and Millicent and Tracey in the one nearest the stairs.
It's not very much, but it feels as close to a haven as she'll get.
I have my own room this year, you could have snuck in in your cloak, she adds, and falls asleep with the enchanted parchment under her pillow.
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"I'm going to slow my updates" I say before I post two chapters in less than 24 hours. I love this chapter though. Continued love delight at your reactions. Thank you so much. And to SallyJAvery as always.