~~Chapter 6 ~~
On the train, Hermione sat with Padma and Morag talking about different countries and magical traditions when the door suddenly opened and Ron Weasley stood in the door, glaring at his former friend.
"Your boyfriend almost got my family killed," he accused.
The girls looked at him in shock. "What?" Hermione asked, confused and frightened.
"Death eaters attacked the burrow over hols. If we'd have been at a secure headquarters, we'd have been safe."
"Oh, I'm so sorry!" Hermione was genuinely upset. "Was anyone hurt?"
"Fred got nicked by a cutting curse. George got something called the Breath of Life curse, and he'll have to take potions for weeks. Bill got hit with a bone breaker, and Moody had to replace his peg."
"Are your brothers going to be okay?" Morag asked, while Hermione looked extremely upset.
Ron ran his hand through his hair. "Yeah, they are. The twins are on the train." He was glad to see the sympathy in Hermione's eye as she nodded and sighed in relief. He could play that. Then she narrowed her eyes and tilted her head.
"Wait, Moody was there?"
"Well, we called for reinforcements."
"They didn't block your floo?" Padma asked.
"They did. We used the mirrors to call the order."
"And is the burrow still standing?" Hermione asked for confirmation.
"Yeah. But we had to do a bunch of work on it the rest of break."
Hermione crossed her arms over her chest. "To summarize: the burrow was attacked by death eaters. Because you lot were home, not at Harry's safehouse, you were able to defend your property. They would have attacked in any case, as you're notorious 'blood traitors,' and if you'd been elsewhere, your house would have burned to the ground. Then, you used the mirrors that Sirius and Remus charmed for the order to call for backup and put down the attack. No one was permanently injured. Why is this Harry's fault, again?"
"Because it is!" How could she defend that selfish squib still?!
"Brilliant reasoning. Very convincing. Go away." Hermione saw through Ron's play and curtly dismissed him.
Morag giggled but stopped herself when Ron turned his hateful gaze to her. Then he turned and strode away, the compartment door slamming behind him.
"Why were you ever friends with that berk?" Padma asked, remembering her own miserable interactions with Ron Weasley.
"Harry was friends with that berk. I was just along for the ride," she realized what she said when the other girls started giggling uncontrollably. Turning beet red, Hermione joined them. Sometimes, you just had to.
~~ this is a scene change ~~
Dumbledore sat in his office, studying his wand… his first wand. The loss of the elder wand was crippling. But there was something very off... He decided to review what happened. Pulling the memory strand from his mind, he bent over the pensieve. The two marauders were defensive and angry but truthful. He could see that. The ring had been terribly cursed, and as he reviewed his memory from the shack, he could see that, indeed, the signs were there. He had been too irrational to ignore them.
Young Remus had saved his life, almost certainly.
He watched through the confrontation in the Black townhouse – and didn't it look nicer now than when the order had roosted there. It didn't cross his mind that none of the order had ever offered to help Sirius take care of the place. Molly had made noises about making it livable, but in the end, she had just wanted to throw things out.
When Dumbledore raised his wand, fully intending to curse the werewolf, the attack came from the side. It wasn't a bombarda… or any magic. Dumbledore sat back, stunned, when he realized that Harry was the one who had incapacitated him. With muggle fisticuffs, no less. Wearing an invisibility cloak.
Dumbledore felt his heart begin to beat rapidly. But his cloak had been destroyed? Perhaps?...
Then logic overwhelmed the hope. No, the order had made use of two invisibility cloaks that Sirius had owned. They were not as proficient as the Potter (Peverell) cloak, but he could understand Sirius providing young Harry with whatever he could to protect the young squib. Voldemort still wanted to torture and kill the young man, no matter that his magic was gone.
Dumbledore stretched his jaw, feeling the phantom ache. He hadn't wanted to go to Panakos – too many uncomfortable questions - and had healed himself. The child packed a good wallop! Dumbledore chuckled – perhaps that was the power Tom knew not!
~~ this is a scene change ~~
A few days after Hermione had gone back to school, when things had quieted a bit, Harry girded his loins and approached Sirius in that man's office.
"I want to apologize. For when I blew up at you."
Harry approached his godfather with a bit of shame and just a bit of defiance. He knew he was wrong, but a fifteen-year-old often has trouble admitting that.
Sirius looked up from the book he was perusing – a muggle book on aircraft technology that was just humbling to the pureblood wizard – and studied his godson. He smiled a little.
"With the stress you, especially, are under, I am surprised that it took this long for you to act out. Honestly. You don't drink or smoke or run around with a bad crowd. You do listen to raucous music, but I kind of like that stuff. No, one afternoon of rebellion was expected. But I accept your apology and thank you for it."
"It's not…" Harry ran his hand through his hair in frustration, "I love living with you guys. I've learned more in the last few months than in the four years I had at school combined. But I do get kind of lonely and… she went back there. She went back to that castle where Dumbledore reigns supreme and I can't protect her."
Sirius's brow furrowed and he got up, pulling Harry to his couch. "Whoa, whoa, I know you and I have issues with Dumbledore, but there's nothing indicating he'd do anything to Hermione."
"Aside from having his pet death eater rape her mind on the regular?"
Conceding the point, Sirius nodded perfunctorily. "Agreed, but Snape is gone now, because of what happened with Pomphrey."
Harry let out a bitter chuckle. "Dumbledore's been at that school for almost a century, feathering his nest, handpicking vassals for his fiefdom."
"You've been reading history this week," Sirius chuckled, "I mean, fiefdom? Vassals?"
Harry rolled his eyes. "The terms fit. I don't know who she'll turn to if she needs help. The other students mostly worship at the altar of Dumbledore."
"Well, he has to be on his toes now. With the exposure of what he allowed Snape to do to Pomphrey, Bones has to know that Dumbledore is playing games."
"They all play games. But Sirius, how can they let him stay in control of their kids? How can anyone with kids be comfortable with those kids being at Hogwarts?"
"Snape is gone…"
"Snape was a symptom, not the disease. You're right. I've been reading history. You know that Hogwarts is one of the most haunted sites in Britain. Since all those kiddos are there – fertile minds, untrained magical souls ripe for possession – Hogwarts is supposed to have the strongest anti-possession wards known. Yet, Quirrel was possessed by Riddle my first year."
Sirius inhaled deeply through his nose. "So the anti-possession wards aren't working. What else isn't working? Makes you wonder."
Harry shook his head. "More: Ginny was possessed most of the next school year."
"Maybe the headmaster couldn't get the wards fixed in that short a time? Or he doesn't know how to fix them?
"I actually looked specifically into ward structuring when I thought about this. The headmaster – with the help of the portraits – controls the wards. Dumbledore either doesn't understand how the wards work, doesn't care that they're broken, or broke them on purpose."
"Ignorant, apathetic, or malicious. None of those are comforting conclusions.
"And they're the same conclusions you have with the curse on me. He had to see that curse when he dropped me off. If not then, in my first year. He did nothing."
"Well, that could be down to the prophecy. He could have been trying to make your life as miserable as Riddle's was. Or he could have thought that by chaining your powers, he kept Riddle's low, like Remus has postulated.
"Some comfort that is," Harry griped bitterly.
"Dumbledore is a big picture guy. He only sees the trees if they help him navigate the forest."
"So, people like Quirrel and Ginny can be tossed away, because they're not part of the final solution? I ask again, how can any parent trust him with their kids? How can Molly and Arthur let Ginny back in that castle, knowing that Dumbledore sacrificed her?"
"When you put it like that…" Sirius had some serious thinking to do.
~~ this is a scene change ~~
It was a Wednesday evening in late January. Hermione stretched her muscles after having used them through the last few hours in dance. The ghost who led the club that evening had been a ballerina, and her instruction built on the lessons Hermione had as a girl. She found peace and strength in dance and was so glad that she'd found out about these clubs.
As she stretched, concentrating on her quads, a few of the other girls sat around her. Daphne turned to look at her with narrowed blue eyes.
"So, in a totally un-Slytherin manner, I'm going to ask: why did you lose your prefect badge? We are all – I think the whole school actually – dying to know."
"It was actually pretty Slytherin to wait until I'm totally calm and centered after dance." Daphne smirked and Hermione sighed. "I didn't lose the badge; I surrendered it. Voluntarily."
"What?" Susan asked, shocked. "I thought you wanted to be a prefect?"
"I did, once. But it was so much work…" Hermione pulled out a water bottle and drank deeply, thinking.
"Because you were doing the work for two since Weasley's such a lazy git. Neville carries his share." Faye, who had been Hermione's replacement, volunteered.
Hermione nodded, putting her bottle back into her bag. "Exactly. Not only was I doing the work for both of us, she had the temerity to reprimand me – ME! – for not doing Ronald's share of the work. I was absolutely furious. But I held it together and simply resigned." Just thinking about it made her mad, again.
"So, she gave you detention because you resigned?" Daphne asked with skepticism. "You didn't tell her to do terrible things with the badge or anything?"
"Oh, no," Hermione corrected, "she gave me detention for calling her a liar."
"What?!" Morag was astounded.
"Well, when I complained that I had done more than what I was asked to do as a prefect and was being called out for Ronald's dearth of ambition, she said she had to be fair. Fair, I tell you. I lost the plot. How was it fair that Harry was forced into the tournament, shunned for two full years of the four he was here? And she did absolutely nothing for him. How was it fair that she mis-stated if not completely misrepresented my prospects in the wizarding world to get me to come to Hogwarts?" She huffed again. "I tried my best to be polite in my… clarification of her policies, but she dinged me for insubordination."
"You called McGonagall a big fat liar to her face." Padma breathed the conclusion they all came to in astonished respect. Say what you would about Hermione: she certainly was brave enough to represent Gryffindor house.
Lavender and Parvati broke into giggles. "Go, Lions!" Parvati chortled.
~~ this is a scene change ~~
Sirius flooed back into Grimmauld place after the monthly Wizengamot meeting.
"How many spells did they try to hit you with this time?" Remus asked, leaning against the wall, legs crossed, sipping a scotch. He looked like any man at home after a long day's work, but the scars belied any docile appearance.
Sirius brushed invisible soot from his shoulders as he took off the formal coat he'd donned for the meeting. "Seventeen. Seventeen merlin-be-damned spells. Most were locators but someone tried a submission hex and one tried an incontinence curse. I tell you, I don't miss most of my family, but when Bella was around, no one messed with a Black."
"Well maybe if you start talking baby talk and whipping out entrail-expelling curses, they'll take you seriously, too," Lupin snarked, and Sirius grinned at him.
"Shouldn't they always take him Sirius-ly?" Harry asked as he entered the room, having been pinged by the wards that his mutt of a godfather had returned.
Remus groaned while Sirius looked up from the drink he was pouring and pointed at Harry, "You've finally seen the light with the Sirius jokes."
"Low hanging fruit. How was the meeting?"
Sirius took his drink to the parlour while the other two followed. "It was interesting. First, widow Preston tried to say that the Potter seat should be closed."
Harry felt his very intelligent ring grow cold as he processed that statement.
"She had the floor and she stated that the last Potter was now effectively a muggle so the Potter seat should be closed. Then Dumbledore – your current proxy – stood and counter proposed. He proposed the seat should be turned over to me of all people. He stated that I had contact with my godson and what's more, though you have no magic, there was no discounting the possibility that your children would be magical, as your magic was stolen by a dementor. You were actually born with it. More, you still associated with several wizarding children. It was more than possible that if you had a child with a witch, that child would certainly be magical."
Harry was a bit confused by the whole thing. "So, he gave up my proxy to you? He's just voting his own seat now?"
Sirius shook his head. "He doesn't have a seat. As an Order of Merlin winner, he has an honorary permanent chair in the gallery. But he has no seat on the floor. Once the motion passed – Dumbledore's proposal, not Preston's – he moved to the gallery. Then it got interesting."
Sirius took a sip, staring into the amber liquid, gathering his thoughts.
"First, a representative from the healer's guild came and explained exactly what had happened with Poppy and Snivellus. There was some upset that all parents and guardians were required to submit full physicals for their children, but once the depth of the curse was explained, most understood the necessity. Then, it was my turn."
He fell into the memory and explained as he reminisced.
"Fellow members of the Wizengamot. Thank you for your time and attention. I am not here to talk today, directly, about my godson. He is physically healing and catching up on school work on the muggle side. He does, as Headmaster Dumbledore alluded to, still keep in contact with a few of his friends from the castle. It is that castle I wish to address today.
"Harry has told me many stories of his adventures at Hogwarts. He told me of his first year, when his defense professor attacked him. This body has been told that Quirinus Quirrel attacked a student and died: that student was Harry. And the important thing I wish to point out: Quirrel was possessed by an evil spirit when he attacked Harry. The magical burns on Harry's hands, that the healers at Mungo's could not explain? They were from coming in contact with a human possessed by a dark spirit. Shaklebolt can attest to the truth of this testimony."
The head auror nodded from his seat in the gallery. Several of the members of the Wizengamot looked startled but a few were starting to look angry. Dumbledore's face showed no emotion, but his eyes glittered bitterly at Sirius. It was obvious that Dumbledore had thought his maneuver with the Potter seat would make amends. It was equally obvious that it hadn't in Sirius's mind.
"In the 1992-93 school year, many students were petrified. We know those cases were what spurred the medical guild to look into the situation there. You know it was a basilisk that committed the petrifications – a basilisk that Harry slew when he tried to save his friend's sister. You see, the basilisk was at the command of yet another possessed magical – the child in question was possessed by one of Slytherin's get: that spirit was a parslemouth and wanted to cleanse the blood in the castle. I see some of you are making the connections."
"Where are the anti-possession wards?" Avery asked.
"The right question. That castle is filled with spirits and with children. If those anti-possession wards are down, they need to be raised back up, immediately."
"This is on Dumbledore's watch," Claybole grumbled and many looked to the gallery where the stoic former chief warlock sat, accepting the accusatory looks.
"Not necessarily," Sirius countered and the same heads turned to look at him quizzically. "Headmaster Dumbledore has, until very recently, held three very stressful jobs, at our request. He stepped down from two of them, again at our request. He is a brilliant, dedicated, and magically gifted wizard who has asked little and done much. But he has asked." Sirius picked up a sheaf of papers at that point and looked down at them, shaking his head.
"For the last ten years, Dumbledore requested that the board of governors – the group that determines the actions and budgets of the department of education and the schools of magic as well as maintaining the Hogwarts trust... again, appointed by this body – approve the hiring of a master curse breaking team. He believes that the defense position has been cursed by the wizard who called himself Lord V… well, you know who I mean. I propose that, if indeed that creature deigned to curse that school, the curse was more subtle and toxic than a simple revolving door on a core course. He could have, as a founder's heir, meddled with the head's connection to the wards. But without curse breakers, that the board has denied funding for, no one knows."
"Hogwarts doesn't have those funds, and the ministry cannot afford such an extravagance," Roland Pimpernick, a board member refuted loudly.
Sirius nodded, putting the sheaf of paper onto his desk and requesting it duplicate it to all the seated members. "So, these are the requests that Headmaster Dumbledore has made that have been denied out of hand for years, aside from the cursebreaker: a new history teacher, safer brooms for flying lessons, attention to the forbidden forest, where a nest of acromantulae are slowly but surely taking over – there are wizard killers, ladies and gentlemen, nesting right next to our quidditch pitch, new potions desks with the brewer's ward installed… you see this list. They even denied interfering when Minister Fudge placed dementors on school grounds – to catch me. Those dementors made their first attempt on students on the train before the school year even started. They attacked a quidditch match. Had several teachers not produced patronii, it would have been a mass-tragedy. But the governors would not intervene. There is nothing on this list of requests that is extravagant or even unnecessary. I would postulate that they are all necessary, but the board has denied them out of hand. On the other hand, section two will show you the salary for the board members has gone up 300% in the last fifteen years. Aside from Malfoy, there were two other death eaters who have since been arrested by the current administration. I leave postulations of the motivations of this group to you." The outrage was now voluble and the board members in the room looked as though they wished to be anywhere else.
"They are using Hogwarts to get rich, at the expense of our children." Olivet exclaimed looking at the budgets.
"They are dark wizards and witches who put their own families above the betterment of our society," Augusta Longbottom put forth, skewering Pimpernick, who had taken Frank Longbottom's seat on the board. "It needs to stop."
"I propose that we freeze their vaults and do an accounting. Pecuniary recompense should be made to the Hogwarts Trust and education budget. And I propose that we get a team of master curse breakers and ward analysts up to Scotland. Let Dumbledore do his job. He always has and always will stand for the children." Sirius's conclusion was heralded with voluble agreement in the form of fists pounding on the tables in front of them. Again, the board members in attendance looked at each other. Chickens were coming to roost, and this time, they might just be held accountable for their actions.
When Sirius left the hall after his motion and others had passed or been overturned, Dumbledore greeted him. "Sirius, my boy, I must thank you."
"Thought I was going to turn on you at first, though, didn't you?" Sirius smirked.
The eyes twinkled just a bit. "I wouldn't blame you. We didn't part on the best of terms."
"Harry got to sock you a good one, and I got to watch it. It solved some of my anger issues in your general direction."
They began walking to the floo point, the muffliato surrounding them denying those eaves-droppers who wished otherwise. "But not all. I never have apologized for the Azkaban thing."
"Harry carries the grudge over that, not me. I get it." Dumbledore looked surprised and Sirius continued to explain. "There are a couple of ways that people react to ultimate betrayal. That's what it was to you: you thought I had been a good man, turned to the light, and then you were confronted with the idea that I chose blood over family. That those in the order, like Molly and Moody, who said that blood would tell with me had been proved right. You compartmentalized it. You simply couldn't handle it. I understand that. It's how Remus reacted, too. Harry doesn't get that."
Dumbledore nodded sadly, "You understand,"
"I do," Sirius said, his voice suddenly brisk. "What I don't understand, and won't forgive, is the abuse that you allowed to happen to Harry. What you allowed that piece of human excrement, Snape, to do to him. You're beyond your last chance with me. I can't work with you, but I won't hinder you. You belong at Hogwarts. Just don't expect me to help you again."
Sirius turned and walked away, and the old man looked at the younger man, swiftly walking back to his family, and for the first time, felt some regret.
"You worked to keep him there?" It was all Harry could force out after Sirius was done talking."
"Yes, because he's the only wizard Riddle fears." Sirius looked at Harry's disappointment and felt that regret again. But his statement held all the truth he knew.
Remus joined in the argument "Dumbledore needs to be there to protect the students. But between the ward masters and curse breakers, the castle won't have his personal hold anymore."
Sirius nodded, "I'm taking a seat on the board and I'm going to force them to hire new teachers for history and transfiguration – McGonagall does too many jobs. This will be more teachers that aren't Dumbledore sycophants. There will be more teachers, overall, giving students more opportunity to reach out to an adult."
Harry's jaw was set mulishly. An opportunity to get rid of Dumbledore…
"There is also the old adage: keep your friends close and enemies closer. If he is at Hogwarts, he can't be causing issues elsewhere." Remus added.
"I have to think about it." Harry got up and went to the kitchen to start supper. The two older wizards looked at each other in despondency. Sirius had fucked up again, it seemed. But really, he'd seen no other options. They couldn't fight a war on two fronts. And Riddle was still out there, waiting to kill Harry.
~~ this is a scene change ~~
"Miss Granger, please stay after class." Professor McGonagall saw the head bob in acknowledgement, though the student in question had nothing but a look of ennui on her face. Other students milled around, packing up, looking askance at the former golden girl as they made their way to lunch.
McGonagall considered her position. Granger's classwork had been pristine, and her essay to the point and almost perfectly set up. Miss Granger was a powerful, logical, and intelligent witch – the combination was almost unheard of. That she was now firmly in opposition to the faculty of Hogwarts… it was something McGonagall had to try to address. They couldn't hold up against a muggleborn uprising, not after all the losses You Know Who had caused.
But the changes in Miss Granger showed Minerva that she would have to employ a different approach than her norm. Miss Granger knew the rules well: potentially better than anyone else in the castle, faculty included. There was no charge McGonagall could lay on the child that would stick. Demands, from a position of empty authority, would not move the student, and might just make her dig in more.
"Miss Granger, Hermione, please sit," McGonagall indicated an empty desk and took one herself. Hermione lost most of the tension in her back. She was prepared for confrontation, and now she was just confused.
She sat quietly and looked quizzically at her former mentor.
McGonagall sighed, seeing the disdain and mistrust in the child's eyes. They had lost this witch, for certain. She would never follow Albus, no matter what he hoped. She cooperated at best. The stories of the children's first four years adventures – and how they should have been avoided by actual responsible adults – had made the gossip rounds. The story of the confrontation over the prefect badge had also made it out. As even the gossip held mostly truth from what McGonagall could tell, there was really nothing to more to be said. Perhaps apologies. But that would never happen. McGonagall knew herself, and she demanded a certain level of respect. She felt Miss Granger's accusation – no matter how truthful – had not been respectful.
But she had to try to bridge this gap.
"Miss Granger, the faculty has noticed that you've gone through a bit of a change. You seem… not yourself. You are withdrawn and seem under a great deal of stress, though your performance in class is not near what it has been in the past."
Hermione's back went up. "I complete all assigned work to the best of my ability."
McGonagall inclined her head in peaceful agreement. "This is true. But your work is not at the level it was previously, and you no longer participate in class unless you are asked to."
Hermione sighed. She didn't need more conflict with adults. "Look, I've made friends this year. Good ones, I think. If I get all swotty again, well, I understand that other students find it annoying. Harry never cared, but…"
McGonagall sighed, not expecting this argument. Of course, with the loss of both Potter and Weasley as friends, Granger would have to branch out. She nodded. "That makes some sense, but does not explain your stress levels, when you seem to be doing less work."
Hermione gave a snort of dry laughter. "Less work. Right. No, Professor. I am actually carrying double the load. My parents threatened to pull me from the magical world this year, as they have gone into hiding due to fear of this civil war of ours." McGonagall started in shock. "I told them that there was a magical net that tracked magical children and they would be in trouble if they tried to hide me. A lie, I know, but I couldn't fathom throwing all of my magical training away and becoming a refugee from the magical world. To keep the peace, I agreed to complete requirements in both the magical and non-magical world. I am preparing for owls and GCSE's with almost no help in the latter. It is a bit stressful, as you can imagine."
McGonagall sat, shocked. She had no idea what these GSE's involved, but if they were even a quarter of the material that OWLS encompassed, this would be more stress than most students could handle. It actually explained quite a bit about the attitude Miss Granger had displayed that year. Her joining the dance and music classes was a necessary relief for someone who was putting that much effort into academics. She nodded in understanding.
"If there is anything that I – or any of the staff - can do to ease your burden, please do not hesitate to ask."
Hermione smiled then, a small, cool smile. She kept to herself that she would rather not put herself into debt with any of Dumbledore's followers in the castle. "You all have given a great foundation for the magical side, and I doubt that any of you can really help with physics or trig or non-magical British history. I have a tutor who looks at my work – Hedwig carries my papers to Harry who works with the same tutor." Who was Remus Lupin. But again, McGonagall didn't need to know that. Hermione shrugged. "I may not get straight O's, but I will pass all my subjects, which is all that is required from my parents. I turn seventeen in September, and I can tell them that I choose the magical world at that point with no repercussions."
McGonagall smiled at that. "Again, if there is anything we can do, please let us know. May I share this reasoning in the faculty meeting?"
Hermione nodded, "It's not a secret. There are a few other muggleborn in the same situation, I know. We know if we leave before OWLS, we have our magic bound and get obliviated. I just wanted to avoid that."
"Understandable. And it would be quite a loss to our society if any of you left. The loss of a magical child is a tragedy." She paused then, thinking of another of her lost lions. "How is Mr. Potter doing?"
"He is doing as well as can be expected. He has a lot to catch up on in the muggle world, and a lot of time to fill, since he can't really go out. Stupid Voldemort still will kill him if he shows his face in the real world." Hermione stopped speaking then, and the professor's small smile faded. McGonagall sighed internally. Hermione wasn't going to talk any more about Harry, so this information search was doomed.
~~ this is a scene change ~~
After a few weeks of wearing three rings – his Potter ring had stayed as the heir ring because he still had too much to learn; Black and Peverell approved because being head of Potter would put the child at a disadvantage in that place and time – Harry had found some balance. As he settled into the magic and became stronger, Remus and Sirius calmed a little, though they always kept a weather eye on him. The donning of the Peverell ring and the claiming of the wand had Moony researching, and he knew, though he never said it aloud, exactly what was happening with Harry.
At first, both Potter and Peverell battled for his subconscious mind, trying to fit in as much as possible. Harry found that with several hours of meditation per day he could commune with each family magic, learn in a more concentrated manner, and actually get some sleep.
He was progressing at a phenomenal rate. He had met his spirit guide. He was a crow – and wasn't at all surprised. It was the only harbinger of death that loved to fly. The moth thing didn't count. He was given to understand, though, that when he fully embraced the Peverell family magics, he would be able to morph into any incarnation of death. As a result, he was a parselmouth again: snakes were inherently aligned with the grave.
He'd warded a trunk and kept the family journals there. There had been an entire vault of keepsakes from family Peverell. The goblins had looked at him warily when he'd showed the trio of heirlooms needed to access them. They asked that he kept them in mind for future contract work, when he knew how to use his Peverell family magic.
The family magics Potter/Peverell trained him as master of death. Death came to him as an actual avatar when Harry was in a meditative state and trained him as though he were a sensei. Harry was just glad to not be told to wax on and wax off.
You can see connections betwixt soul and body and sever them. You can call spirits back to the earthly plane. It said these facts as though they might be temptation. Harry supposed, for some they might be. But he'd read the three brothers' tale, at Remus's urging.
Harry had no desire to put an eternal soul in pain. Sounds perfect for necromancy, which I've no interest in, he thought back. No thanks. Harry felt approval from Thanatos.
You can speak to the dead… somehow, the envoy of hades knew this would be the biggest temptation for the child. Harry supposed it was the biggest temptation for most who donned the ring.
Does it hurt them like in the story? Harry asked.
Only if their business is finished. Those who met untimely ends, they wait. Their souls are in agony, wanting to go forward but still held on this plane by unfulfilled tasks. You can help them.
Though the subjugation curse was long gone, Harry felt driven to help if he could, since he knew, as Lord Peverell, he was the only human who could. He nodded slowly. If I can help them, I will. I don't want to hurt anyone though.
Not even Tom Riddle? Death tempted. Would you not like to hurt him as he has hurt you? Or at the least, show him his death, finish his path of destruction on Earth?
Harry thought, and he thought hard. Could he kill Riddle? I could kill him, to save someone else or me. But I couldn't just order him dead. That seems like a slippery slope I don't want to go down.
This time, the approval wasn't just hinted. This was the right answer, the right attitude. Voldemort's own actions would have to bring on his own demise. Like Pettigrew's had brought on his own fate.
You think his actions will lead to his death?
Harry nodded, yeah, I think they would. They will. I just wish no one else had to die before he kicks it.
I imagine that much of the backlog of souls we must process will be attached to him. If someone's murderer dies, that provides closure to them. I know that a number of souls moved on with the arrival of the pieces of your nemesis.
Pieces? The horcrux?
Yes.
You have them?
Oh, yes. There was satisfaction in that admission. I simply need the last.
~~ this is a scene change ~~
Imbolc came and went. The girls, following some rituals that Faye found in her family magic book, did a cleansing of their dorm room and celebrated the lunar new year. Winter in the Scottish Highlands was particularly bitter, and any ray of hope or spring was not to be so easily dismissed. The tower had been very tense since winter term started: Ronald Weasley had been pulled from the quidditch team for academic probation, and he'd shared his anger with everyone around him. But that, too, passed. He only looked mulish when the team went out to practice, which wasn't often in the depths of winter.
Soon after, it was the ides of February and the Roman festival of Lupercalia – absconded by the Christians and renamed Valentine's Day. Hermione awoke to the smell of roses, and on her nightstand, there was a trio of rose buds: Red, orange, and yellow, glowing with preservation charms. The bud vase that housed them resembled an antique apothecary vase and the very Victorian card perched against it made Hermione smile gently. "To my valentine – red rose for romance, love, beauty, and courage, yellow for our eternal friendship, and orange for the fascination and desire I feel for you. I miss you. I love you." There was also a small box of artisanal chocolates. He always went for quality over quantity – a remnant of his rebellion against the Dursleys, she thought. But it made his gifts that much more touching.
It was unsigned, but his handwriting was unmistakable. She had Winky pick up a planting of succulents for Harry's office, and she sent a picture of herself –Daphne Greengrass had taken it – when she was doing ballet. It was one of the few pictures of herself that didn't make Hermione cringe (as she was always her own harshest critic). She would wait to talk to him that evening, and she would find out if he liked it, then.
Dressing for classes (and it was only Wednesday. She swore the calendar went backwards in February!), she saw the looks on her roommates' faces when they saw the roses. (Her card was already tucked into her journal.)
"How did Potter manage to get that to you?"
"House elves, I think," Hermione smiled.
"Glad someone clued you in on that situation," Parvati smirked and Hermione rolled her eyes.
"Yes, I was bashed over the head with reality. An elf actually educated me. But I still think someone should protect their rights. Some people just can't be trusted with another being's welfare!" Twisting her wand in a well-practiced maneuver, Hermione pulled her hair up into a French braid. She really liked personal-class charms and wished she'd learned them years ago.
The girls made their way, as girls often do, as a pack, to breakfast. They arranged themselves loosely at the Gryffindor table, greeting others in the hall as they passed. The boys from the dorm followed soon after and interspersed themselves at the table. As breakfast began to be served, Hermione realized that, for the first time in months, Ronald was directly across from her.
And she had been quite hungry that morning, too.
"Hey, Hermione," he said, politely.
A quirked eyebrow was the only indication she gave that his greeting was surprising. She nodded shortly. "Good morning, Ronald."
Next to Ron sat Dean, and next to Dean sat Ginny Weasley. She looked between Ron and Hermione – who had now propped a book against a milk jug and was sipping coffee as she read. Ginny huffed exasperatedly and rolled her eyes at her brother. She jerked her head at Hermione.
Ron gave a little nod.
"So, how are classes going?" Ron asked.
The silence was thick, and that was what got Hermione's attention.
She looked up, her expression far away. "I'm sorry. Were you talking to me?"
"Yeah. I asked how your classes are going," Ron replied. That there was no food in his mouth as he spoke astonished Hermione. Someone was trying to teach him manners? God bless them.
"Well, thank you." Hermione sliced a banana neatly then forked some as she returned to her reading.
"Are you going to Hogsmeade this weekend?" Ron once again interrupted her reading, and Hermione looked at him quizzically. As did many of the others around them. Weasley had never – not even when they were supposedly friends – been nice to Granger. What was going on?
"I was considering it," Hermione answered slowly. She saw Ginny smile from the corner of her eye.
"We should go together then," Ron smiled, and it had some charm. "Catch up."
Now the silence spread to the neighboring tables.
"No, thanks," Hermione answered pleasantly, then turned back to her book. There was some quiet laughter, and Ron's ears turned red. He looked like Mount Weasley, about to blow, but his sister caught her eye and shook her head harshly. He took a deep breath and decided to take out his frustrations on breakfast.
He would have to use better strategy.
His mother was threatening dire punishments. His grades were so bad that McGonagall had threatened to pull him for spring term and make him repeat his OWLS year.
None of her children would embarrass Molly Weasley in that manner.
Ron was under strict orders to study more and get Granger to help him because she would ensure that he passed his classes. Molly would work to get her under contract with Ron – he could have some fun before they married, but the Granger girl was smart with magic to burn. She'd support him and give him strong children.
As a muggleborn, she'd have little to no rights in the marriage. But he would treat her well – better than most pure bloods would. And marriage to a pure blood would open doors for her.
She was actually kind of pretty now, since she'd started hanging around other birds. And she wasn't near so annoying. And she'd make sure the bills were paid and what not. It would be good for both of them. Ron could see it. Now he just had to make it happen.
Classes passed, and Ron tried to sit with or near Hermione throughout the day. Some of the others noticed, but also noticed that Hermione had a light of laughter, not anger, in her eyes.
All through dinner, Ron had tried to talk to Hermione, but she kept turning her attention to the others around her. Some new couples formed in the hall; some established couples surprised each other with Valentine's gifts. Ron's older brothers had serenaded their choice of valentines with miniature animated minstrels. The figurines quoted Shakespeare and played lute and fife. They were amazing magic, and Hermione wondered if she could pick Gred's brain about how they made them.
Upon receiving affirmative answers to the request for Hogsmeade weekend dates, the twins released pink white and red balloons throughout the hall. When they burst, they let out a snippet of song, or the scent of flowers, or flash of red, pink or white light. It was all highly entertaining, but kept Ron from engaging Hermione in conversation.
A benefit, in her mind, no matter the frustration in his. She saw what was going on – Ron was failing his classes and was desperate for help. He believed her to be just plain desperate, so he was going to try to charm her into helping him.
Not in this lifetime.
Hermione was sitting at her favored table in the common room when Ron dropped into the seat across from her. Others in the dorm had been waiting for him to make a move. He'd been acting weird all day, focused on Granger. And she'd tolerated it, or at least, she hadn't told him to push off yet.
Ron leaned forward, gently closing the book that Hermione was reading. "Can we talk?"
Hermione looked at him, not seeing a way to avoid the conversation without looking like a jerk. So, she just nodded. "Certainly. What's on your mind?"
Ron sighed deeply. "I really miss you, Hermione. We should go to Hogsmeade together. Pick up our friendship…" he smiled just a bit then, as he practiced in the mirror, "maybe be more than friends."
She had expected demands at helping him. She had not expected… charm? He was trying to be charming, right?
She had no choice but to try to be polite in her rejection.
"I really don't think…"
"Come on, Mione, say you'll be my Valentine." He looked earnestly into her eyes.
She couldn't help it.
The bubble of laughter burst from her, and others who were following the "private" conversation laughed at the red-head's audacity, too. Hermione, though, covered her mouth and apologized.
"I am so sorry. But you have to realize how ridiculous it would be – you and me? Just… no."
Ron got a mulish look on his now-ruddy face. "I think we could be great together." He worked to keep his temper in check, as Ginny had advised, and to keep saying positive things. Really, he shouldn't have to convince the stupid chit – she should be grateful for his attention.
Hermione sighed. "Look, Ron, I'm really sorry, but you know I already have a boyfriend. Even if I didn't, I have no interest in dating you. We have nothing at all in common."
"Opposites attract, and we could be good for each other," he prodded, not giving up so easily.
Hermione's eyes shuttered. "No means no. I'm not interested in you in any manner, Ronald. Go search somewhere else for your homework slave."
He stood from the table, towering over her. The silence in the room became almost palpable, and he remembered in time that they were not alone. Forcing his clenched hands to relax, Ron decided he needed the last word. "You think dating a squib is better than me. You think you're better than me. You're not. You're a muggleborn. I could make things good for you. You'll see. You'll see."
The last muttering, almost a threat, made Hermione shake her head. She'd have to have Winky get her some neutralizing draughts. She had no desire – ha ha – to be love- or lust-potioned into hanging out with that wanker again.
As she made a mental note for herself, part two of the Weasley front engaged her. Ginny sat in the seat that Ron vacated, while Faye and Parvati pulled their own chairs closer to Hermione.
"You know, Hermione, you should really give Ron a chance. He's changed."
Hermione looked at the girl and shook her head. "I doubt he is any different in essentials, Ginevra. And I'll remind you: I have a boyfriend."
Ginny flipped her hair over her shoulder as she rolled her eyes and huffed. "You're wasting your time on a squib. If you stay with him, what kind of children would you have? They could all be squibs!"
Hermione laughed. "I live in the muggle world, so I've no problem with that. And he's still Harry. Which means he is more awesome on his worst day than your brother is on his best."
Fay had never liked the youngest Weasley siblings and how Ron, especially, treated Hermione. She decided to add her own little jab. "Harry's probably better with his wand than Ron, anyway."
Lavender and Parvati giggled wickedly while Hermione just blushed and bit her lip.
Ginny looked confused for a moment, then turned beet red when she realized the double entendre. Her flustered state caused the onlookers to laugh harder, while Hermione put her forehead into her hand, trying to hide her own reaction to Ginny's embarrassment.
~~ this is a scene change ~~
Ron Weasley was not so easily deterred as Hermione would have thought. His grades must have been utter crap for him to be prostrating himself, daily, to her. Of course, they must have been utter crap for McGonagall to pull Weasley from quidditch.
But the campaign for Hermione's affections was just… bizarre. Ron continued to use table manners, sat next to her in class when he could, held the door, and even made a pretense at studying. Hermione had to change up her routine, trying to find a way to get the red head to push off. She had trusted him once, and he had burned her.
"Fool me once, shame on you… but there will be no shame on me, tosser." Hermione muttered as she used Harry's map – Winky'd provided it Valentine's evening when Harry listened to Hermione tell of Ron's foray into romance. He hadn't laughed as she had intended.
"Hermione, the boy isn't brilliant, but he's cunning. He's also stubborn as the day is long. If he sees you as the answer to his problems – if his sister is convincing him of the same – he's going to keep bothering you. Use the map. Avoid him if you can."
She hadn't told him that she had Winky get neutralizing draughts from an apothecary in Diagon, but she'd done it. She knew a frustrated wizard wasn't one to mess with. She'd just hope that Ronald either failed out or gave up. And she hurried down a hallway quite opposite to the direction she normally went.
As she entered the great hall for dinner that evening, she wondered how she would avoid Ron at the table. He seemed to wait for her to sit before sitting himself.
"Granger, are you going to dance tonight?" Tracey Davis approached Hermione from the Slytherin table. They had a brief chat about the folk series they were beginning that evening, and Tracey smirked, knowing she was doing Hermione a solid, stalling until Weasley came into the room.
Hermione saw that there was a small seat between Neville and Cormac McLaggan – a sixth year – and across from George, Katie, Fred, and Angelina. She sighed, hoping at least the older Weasleys wouldn't be so bad, and, telling Tracey she'd see her later, docked herself in a youngest-Weasley-free zone.
"You want that I should switch places with my brother, Romeo, Granger?" Thing 1 quipped. Angelina smacked him while Katie pinned him with a glare.
"I have no ill will toward your brother, George, but I've no desire to spend time with him, either."
"Well, he's a tenacious one, he is, when there's something he wants," Thing 2 warned.
"As I'm a me, not a thing, I believe I have a say in the situation." The look of disgust on her face at being referred to as property was reflected in most of the girls' eyes. Weasley the first decided to change the direction of the conversation so as his own girl wouldn't get the wrong idea.
"Hard to believe that you'd choose Harry over Ron, though, with the way Harry talked about our mum." Team Weasley was obviously still demonstrating solidarity.
Hermione put down her utensils slowly and stared directly into the eyes of Fred Weasley.
"Your mother was abusive to Harry in his godfather's house." That boy looked down, so she turned her skewering gaze to George. "She tried to deny him food and steal his possessions, the very day he got out of the hospital after a brutal dementor attack. If you don't see that her actions were wrong, we have nothing further to talk about."
Eyebrows around the table lifted as some of the truth of what had been done to their former seeker was spread around the table. No matter that Harry was a squib now, you didn't kick a bloke when he was down. Especially when that same bloke had saved a Weasley's life not a year before.
"She's our mum," George protested.
"And he's the one that saved your sister, that gave you the funds for your research – yes, I know about that." Hermione shook her head. "Never mind, blood is thicker, I suppose. But I'm not a forgive and forget type. Maybe, just maybe you two can excuse your treacherous behavior. Ronald – and especially Ginny – cannot. Not to me. Harry is my very best friend. He saved my life both from a troll and from myself. And if you think that he's a lesser person because he doesn't have magic? That sounds like death eater propaganda right there."
George paled while Fred huffed, "We don't think he's lesser. We just didn't like him insulting our mum."
"Well, he didn't like your mum insulting his godfather, and she did that from sunup to sundown while she was in Sirius's house. On family insults, you're square."
"I don't like that you have a point," George conceded.
"How is Harry doing?" Katie asked, trying to lessen the tension. Hermione smiled.
"He's doing well, working hard, and living life. He'd love to hear from you, about quidditch if nothing else. I won't talk about that sport."
"Noticed you don't come to the games now that Ginny is the seeker," Angelina gibed.
"I only ever went to support Harry and make sure he didn't get killed, if I could help it." Hermione defended herself. Given the number of times Harry'd been attacked during games, that was a legitimate concern.
They changed the subject, talking about the new potions classes and other things. By the time Ron joined the table, just next to his brother, Hermione had eaten enough and got up to go back to the tower.
Ronald was torn – continue his appeals to Hermione or eat more food?
Food won.
~~ this is a scene change ~~
The weeks of February and early March dragged on. Hermione found many places to study: she had managed to make her bag bottomless, feather-light, secure, and indestructible. She carried everything in it and just watched for places that Ronald could not find.
And she studied and practiced and studied some more. If it weren't for the extra-curricular activities, she'd probably go mad. The tower was split: some found Weasley's pursuit of Granger charming (usually boys thought the lad was daft and girls thought it romantic), but Hermione was sick of being stalked. Her roommates knew her position and helped cover her tracks where they could. She and Faye were walking to dance the Wednesday before spring break. As they walked toward the dance hall, Draco Malfoy approached them.
He nodded to Faye, then looked at Hermione, "Granger, a word?"
Hermione looked at Faye and nodded. Draco and Hermione moved to the side while others moved into the dance hall. Faye watched the two as Draco raised some sort of privacy spell.
"Sorry, Granger. But I've been trying to talk to you for weeks. You're hard to find, now that Weasley stalks you hither and yon. You get a NEWT in escape and evade." He smirked and her smile mirrored his.
"Needs must. Speaking of: what do you need, Malfoy," she asked as she quirked a brow.
Draco put a sneer on his face, "OK, so the official story here is that I'm warning you that the squib can't be Lord Black's heir. I'll rant about it a bit."
Hermione's face reflected anger, "OK, thank you for the spy tip. Now what do you really want?"
Draco almost lost his train of thought; he'd not expected Granger to pick up on subtlety. She was a gryff, for Merlin's sake. But it worked. "I'd really like an introduction to Lord Black." His sneer did not match his words.
"I can pass on whatever information you need," Hermione said with a disdainful, haughty expression. "May I inquire why you wish to speak with Lord Black?"
He almost broke character again; he was, after all, a scared sixteen-year-old boy. "I need – Pansy and I need – to disappear. We will both turn 17 early in the school year. If we are here, he'll find us. We both want to keep our family fortunes away from the monster that killed our fathers. And I've no desire to give my life for his cause."
Hermione shook her head in faux-anger and disgust. "I understand. I'll see Lord Black over break and work on a way for you to speak with him." She turned and stomped away, destroying the privacy spell. Draco shook his head in mock-disgust and turned to go back to his dorm. He passed Pansy and nodded just slightly. Granger would help.
Pansy felt the tension leave her body and she wanted to cry in relief. Since her dad had been killed by the Dark Lord's familiar, she could feel how some of Voldemort's men looked at her. Her mother was holding back from signing a contract, saying that the estate rules weren't clear, and her uncle might need to do the work.
She sneered at Granger while they step danced and bumped into her, purposefully, rather hard. "Get out of the way, graceless mudblood," she sneered, but her eyes held a different message. It was one of thanks.
Hermione didn't acknowledge it.
~~ this is a scene change ~~
"And so we enter the fray of the spring term. If anything of import arises, especially with the quinto et septimus annis, please let me know immediately. Minerva, if you would stay?"
Dumbledore ended the staff meeting. The other faculty left in singles and spurts, discussing or planning whatever plots or gossip the staff at a boarding school found entertaining. Minerva gathered her things and stood, walking to the tea set to refresh her cup. Who knew how long the old man would blather?
As she sat back down next to him, he shut the door with a wave of his hand and re-engaged privacy wards.
"I am concerned with the current direction of Mr. Ronald Weasley's education."
"I have been sending progress reports to his parents, copying you, since fall term. I thought, perhaps, the removal of his prefect badge and his quidditch privileges would emphasize the seriousness of the situation to both Molly and young Mr. Weasley. But there has been little improvement in any class, as you just heard." There had been a few more assignments turned in, mostly, the faculty thought, in Weasley's attempt to impress a disinterested Granger. There had been many chuckles at the thought of that from most of the staff – and a look of disgust on some.
"I beg you to reconsider. He needs to be with his friends. We cannot divide the light at this time." Molly would be absolutely awful if she was forced to endure this insult.
Minerva, though, shook her head. "He has no friends outside the tower, and all of the 6th year boys will remain friendly with him next year – or those who are friendly now – even if he sleeps in a different dorm."
"Miss Granger will lose more respect for him," Dumbledore insisted.
McGonagall let out a huff of impatience. "She does not tolerate the boy as it is."
Albus knew he had to begin this process, though he had yet to find the right time to do it. Why were the Weasleys so very Gryffindor? "Molly would like you, as Miss Granger's guardian, to begin processing a contract between her and Ronald."
Minerva set down her cup and sat back, stunned at the audacity and sheer stupidity of the idea. "Hermione Granger, brightest witch of the age, tied to Ronald Weasley? I love Molly, and I don't think Ronald is a bad boy, but he is no match for Granger."
"And Mr. Potter is?" Albus asked with disbelief. "He can't even wield a wand! She shall go back to the muggle world, and that would be a terrible loss. Surely you acknowledge that?"
Minerva firmed her lips. "It's not my approval that would be withheld. Her guardian would have my guts for garters."
Albus dismissed this easily. "Her parents have disappeared. There will be no one to protest the maneuver. She will get her intended through OWLS."
Minerva chuckled without humor. "Her guardian of record is Remus Lupin. If you try to push a contract on her, the wolf may well maul you the next full moon."
Dumbledore leaned forward in shock. "When did this happen?" he demanded. "Why did you not inform me?"
"Why dinna you tell me her parents had disappeared?" McGonagall's temper, never far from the surface, showed for a minute before she collected herself. "Never mind. You and your plots within plots." He stiffened at the implied accusation. "I received the change of guardianship forms in January, Albus. I often have muggleborn who find an adult magical to take on their guardianship. I don't tell you because it's outside your purview."
"Perhaps that is normally the case," he acknowledged, "but Miss Granger is special."
"She is," Minerva inclined her head in agreement. "Much too special to waste on an entitled pureblood boy simply because he is the son of one of your allies and that ally has demanded her as some sort of payment."
Albus looked a bit shamed at the chastisement. He would have to tell Molly Weasley that her son would have to look elsewhere for a bride. Miss Granger was out of the running.
~~ this is a scene change ~~
The Friday before the carriages left for a week of spring recess – what would be a stressful week of testing for many of the muggleborn fifth-years and sixth-years – Hermione sat at breakfast early, working on physics and chemistry formulas. She had already passed several of the tests last summer – the ones Harry had taken this week – but she had a difficult task ahead.
At least she would be at Grimmauld with Harry. The nightly mirror calls were lovely, and the little things he sent her through Dobby or Winky always made her smile. But she wanted to be with him.
She didn't see the red, smoking letter until Pig dropped it in front of her.
"HERMIONE GRANGER, HOW DARE YOU INSULT MY FAMILY BY REFUSING TO ACKNOWLEDGE MY BOY'S SUIT?! YOU HAVE NO IDEA HOW GRATEFUL A GIRL LIKE YOU WITH YOUR BACKGROUND SHOULD BE TO HAVE COURT PAID BY A RESPECTABLE BOY LIKE MY RONNY. GET YOUR HEAD ON STRAIGHT AND ACCEPT WHAT IS BEST FOR YOU! I EXPECT BETTER FROM YOU."
The students in the hall were shocked into laughter. Granger? Accept the dumbest Weasley?
"Well," some said, "she is a mudblood. He's a pureblood."
"But he's a complete pillock." Others would reply similar arguments.
"I know at least one other bloke – much better match – whom she shot down."
"Heard she's still dating Potter."
"Saw her cozying up with Malfoy in the arts wing a few days ago."
Hermione never liked being the center of gossip, but she worked through her coffee, egg-white omelet, and fruit with a calm that she certainly didn't feel on the inside. Ginny was at the table and looked both horrified and concerned.
"Hermione, I'm so sorry," she whispered when the hubbub died down.
"So far as I know, you didn't do anything… except encourage Ronald. I'm guessing since Pig was the delivery mechanism, he complained to Mummy last night."
Ginny took a deep breath and nodded. "He might get sent home for spring term and held back. He's blaming you for not helping him. If you'd just said yes, he would have buckled down more. I mean, he did better, just trying to impress you!"
Hermione's eyes narrowed, "Your brother's academic success or failure is not on me, Ginevra."
Ginny held up her hands. "Pax, I know," but her eyes didn't quite meet Hermione's. "Mum thinks you're making a terrible mistake dating Harry."
"Because he's a squib, and your mother is a blood purist."
"She is not!" Ginny declared, forgetting that she was trying to apologize.
"I should be 'grateful' that someone of 'my background' is being courted by a pureblood boy." Hermione repeated in a dry voice. "Those were her words. Tell me how that's not blood purist."
"Blood proud, not purist," Ginny emphasized.
"To-may-to, to-mah-to," Hermione replied with a sigh. At Ginny's questioning look, Hermione sighed. "Doesn't matter. Look, I don't like Ronald. At all. He's lazy academically, rude, and, as is seen with this behavior, stubborn and conniving. It's all about what HE wants, so that makes him terribly selfish. I will never, of my free will, date him." At Ginny's continued stare, Hermione lost some patience. "Put yourself in my shoes. Would you?"
Ginny closed her eyes, and her head fell. She shook her head. "No, in all honesty, I wouldn't. But he's my brother. He's a good guy, and he would open doors for you that Harry can't."
"I'm dating Harry. I don't see that changing. He's everything to me. So long as your family treats him like he's dead, or worse, I don't see us having anything to do with each other. Please leave me alone." Hermione returned to her flash cards and ignored the younger girl.
Ron entered the hall and saw Hermione sitting alone, studying. The stupid swot had no friends and she still turned him down? Didn't she see that he was her ticket as much as she was his?
He listened to the gossip around him as he filled his plate. Apparently, his mother had given Hermione the what for. Good. Maybe she'd understand that it was inevitable.
Then he heard something that made him pause raising his fork to his mouth. Other blokes had asked Hermione out? DRACO BLEEDING MALFOY asked her out?
He took the time to chew and swallow and wipe his mouth. These manner things weren't easy, but it gave her less to complain about. She had to acknowledge his points when he followed protocol.
"Hermione," he began. She exhaled loudly through her nose, like she was the one reaching for patience.
"Yes, Ronald?" She didn't have to say his name, but she knew he hated the full moniker. It was the little things.
"I know you study with puffs and claws and even snakes. I suppose that's fine, and I'll tolerate it. But I won't tolerate you speaking with Draco Malfoy. He is the enemy."
"You. Won't. Tolerate.?" Her voice was quiet and just slightly inquiring.
Ron continued, not really seeing or caring that she was becoming visibly angry.
"Look, Malfoy is like the king snake. Even if he seems to be polite, he's just working a con. He's probably trying to get to Harry through you. Don't talk to him again." Considering the matter closed, he cut a bit of sausage, mixed it with some egg, and resumed eating.
Hermione took a deep breath. She really didn't need to engage the idiot. Closing her books, she packed her bag. As she finished her last sip of coffee, she stood then looked at Ronald.
"I am not sure why you feel you have the privilege of declaring with whom I should have permission to speak. I would prefer if you do not speak to me again as your stupid might be contagious." There were giggles around them, and Ron's complexion turned ruddy, his jaw firming. "I am going to report your continued harassment to Professor McGonagall. If a miracle occurs, and you are allowed back in Hogwarts for the spring term," his cheeks blazed with embarrassment at this revelation that all of the eavesdroppers heard, "I will consider it criminal action for you to sit next to me, speak to me, or even look at me. Leave me alone. We are not friends. We are not comrades. We will never be anything ever again. I repeat: Leave. Me. Alone."
She turned and gracefully strode out of the silent hall, teachers and students alike watching her walk away.
~~ this is a scene change ~~
That afternoon, Hermione was called to the headmaster's office.
"Miss Granger, please have a seat." The headmaster looked at his student over his half-moon glasses. So much talent, poised to walk away from the magical world.
She sat, quietly.
"I am concerned, Miss Granger, with the direction you seem to be moving in."
She remained silent with her hands folded in her lap. She met his eyes, and he attempted to scan her surface thoughts, but found nothing. The mithril around her neck was certainly a goblin charm – perhaps a gift from Lord Black? – that blocked legilimency. Severus must have tipped their hand; his technique was never as subtle as Albus's own.
Heaving an internal sigh at both the charm and Miss Granger's reticence – she was not at all nervous or offering of any information freely! – Dumbledore tried again.
"Are you certain that you wish to leave the castle over spring break? The equinox festivals we will host this year will certainly be of interest to one who has been raised in the muggle world."
"I have obligations my parents require to be completed over this time, sir." Her voice was pleasant, calm, and respectful, but she gave nothing away. He was aware, since Minerva had informed the staff, that many of the muggleborn would be taking the equivalent of OWLS over break. If Miss Granger did this, it gave her many options in the muggle world.
Her disillusionment this year might just tip her decision in the muggle world's favor, and he'd lose all insight into young Potter.
"I am aware that your parents are no longer your official guardians. You are under no obligation to do what they ask. Indeed, it would be much safer for you to remain under Hogwarts wards."
"My parents signed over emergency guardianship for the school term only. They are still my parents. I will be leaving and taking the tests."
"I assume you will be taking the tests with Mr. Potter. Are you not afraid that you will lead the death eaters straight to him in his weakened state?"
"I trust that Lord Black will provide adequate protection for his godson, Headmaster. Beyond that, I am not responsible for the actions of criminals that the leaders of this society have never seen fit to punish." There it was: a subtle stab at Dumbledore himself and his perceived lack of action. Like so many Gryffindors, she didn't understand the subtle moves that had to be made to maintain law and order.
"I have another bit of possibly-unwarranted and certainly-unsolicited advice. I have a rather inordinately-large nose, you see," his eyes twinkled as he poked fun at himself.
She sat, pleasantly stone-faced, not acknowledging his attempt at light humor. He dropped the levity.
"I am concerned with the growing enmity betwixt yourself and the Weasley clan. They are a family of light purebloods that could certainly help you find your way in magical society."
Hermione inhaled through her nose, attempting to rein in her temper. "You are correct: it is absolutely none of your business. However, I am on good terms with the twins. I am on neutral ground with Ginny; she's been mostly friendly but is pushing me to date her brother, Ron."
Dumbledore nodded sagely. "It would be a good match for you; you have been quite friendly in the past. He seems quite ardent in his pursuit." Dumbledore smiled as he tried to push the match.
Hermione's eyes flashed. "Ronald has been consistently rude to me since we first met. He debases my background, my personality, my dreams, and my achievements. Two more ill-matched people I've yet to see. I have an idea of why he is pursuing me, but it has nothing to do with respect, admiration, or love. I will have none of it."
He looked ready to argue the point, so she overrode him. "To continue, I have no issues with Arthur, aside from his lack of influence on his spouse. Molly, though… She sent me a howler last year because of something Rita Skeeter wrote in the Prophet. She sent me a howler this year because I won't date her son. I have no idea why she thinks she has the right to be so publicly rude to me, but it certainly does not endear her or her causes. If it weren't for the fact that I have been friends with her children, I would see if those wretched notes weren't an actionable offense. They are assault, and I am a minor."
She finished speaking without ever raising her voice. The anger was palpable, but it was, indeed, justified. Molly's howlers were legendary, were certainly a slap in the face, disrespectful, and – when sent to a child who was not hers – potentially assault.
Albus could see that his arguments would cause no sway with Miss Granger, and it saddened him.
"I understand. I had not been aware of the howler situation. I will speak with Molly. She should apologize." Hermione snorted slightly; her disbelief evident.
"If that is all, headmaster, I need to finish packing." Her voice was cool, her tone even. Albus could only hope that her meeting with young Harry and their time together went unnoticed by the death eaters. Dismissing her, he covertly placed trackers on her shoes and her hair clip.
Hermione made her way to the arts wing. Pulling an exercise outfit out of her bag, she changed in locker rooms, went into the dance room and pushed herself through a long yoga session. By the time she was done, she was once again calm, clear-minded, and ready to face people.
Hiking toward the tower, she stepped first into an abandoned classroom and called Winky to her.
"Mistress calls?"
Hermione smiled. "Yes, Winky. Thank you for coming. How are you today? I love your new outfit!" Winky was wearing a blouse and skirt that complimented her elven shape and color.
Winky smiled. Her Miss was so kind and polite! "Winky fares well. Miss was good to point Winky to sewing classes. Winky love making clothes!"
"That's awesome. So, the reason I called. Can you go through all the things in my trunk and look for tracking charms? Transfer them all to this piece of used parchment? I'll be doing the same for my bag with this quill."
"Winky should check Miss Mione's person, also." Winky snapped and Hermione's right shoe and hair clip glowed. Hermione sighed. The headmaster was often too predictable. Winky popped out, bringing back Hermione's trunk and Crookshanks's carrier. The cat roamed in while the two were checking everything for tracking charms. They found a good number of them. Even Crookshanks's collar had one.
"How will miss stop more from being attached?"
"I'll keep the parchment in my trunk today, and this quill will stay in my bag. I'll leave them both on the express tomorrow. You'll have to check me as soon as I get off the express. I plan on riding alone and sticking to my compartment. If you pop me off the train to a muggle area, it should be good."
"They can find you other ways, Miss." Winky pulled on her ear with worry.
Hermione smiled and pulled up her pendant. "Harry's gift stops people reading my mind and scrying for me. It's goblin mithril and charmed heavily, almost like a family ring."
Winky's eyes widened, seeing the magic of the charm. "Great Harry Potter must treasure mistress. Green bankers work is precious and cost many gold."
Hermione blushed. She didn't know why, but it seemed that Harry loved her as much as she loved him. She certainly didn't deserve it. But she was ever so grateful for it. "But thinking on it, the bad guys might tag any of the muggle born. Can you ask elves to check them? Can you and Dobby do it?"
Winky nodded. "We get help from other elvsies. We protect students!"
By the time Hermione entered Number 12 Grimmauld that Saturday afternoon, all of the students on the express had been cleared of tracking charms and were free to spend their spring breaks safely.
