Hermione sat on the hill outside the Burrow, her knees hugged to her chest. Ginny and the boys were playing Quidditch, the setting sun glinting off their broomsticks. After her many Quidditch misadventures she'd decided to pass on the game, choosing instead to flip through her new copy of Advanced Potion-Making. No one had protested, knowing she was absolutely dreadful at flying and was more focused on staying on her broom than catching anything.

They'd be returning to Hogwarts in only a few days and it felt strange to be packing up their trunks. She was looking forward to the routine of school, but the summer had left her with a deep feeling of discomfort. Over the last several weeks she had seen Order members come and go, bringing with them bleak reports of the world outside. Mrs Weasley had done her best to keep her and the others out of it, but reading between the lines she had a distinct feeling the Wizarding World was slowly starting to crumble. Voldemort had all but declared open war at the Ministry, and fear was beginning to settle in everyone's bones.

Hermione welcomed the distraction Hogwarts would bring.

'Did you see that catch?' Harry landed beside her with a soft thump, rolling off his broom. The wind blew his hair over his face as he beamed at her. He reached over to tilt her book and his nose wrinkled. 'Eurgh, I don't envy you. I bet that's going to be particularly nasty.'

Hermione pulled her book from him, her eyebrows furrowing. 'Are you alright,' she asked softly.

'What d'you mean?'

'I know you need a N.E.W.T in Potions to become an Auror.'

He shrugged one shoulder, plucking absently at the tall blades of grass. In the field Ginny ruthlessly knocked Ron off his broom and they both hit the ground in a fit of laughter. Harry smiled fondly before casting a glance at Hermione. 'At least I don't have to deal with Snape anymore.'

'Professor Snape isn't that bad, Harry,' she protested.

'Are you kidding? I bet he actually smiled when he found out Ron and I only got E's.' He caught Hermione's worried look. 'Seriously, he hates me. I would rather spend an entire year raising Blast-Ended Skrewts. Blind-folded. The feeling is quite mutual.'

The corner of her mouth twitched. 'Don't you think you're being a tad bit overdramatic?'

Harry raised an eyebrow in a very Snape-ish gesture. 'You dare disagree with me? 100 points from Gryffindor, silly girl' he mocked, his voice nasally.

'Very mature.'

'Detention, Saturday. 600 lines: I will not be an insufferable know-it-all.'

She shoved his arm, giggling. 'Stop that!'

'Is it true you hexed him?' He asked after a beat.

She remembered the deathly cold look in Snape's eyes. 'It was an accident,' she told him sheepishly. 'I didn't mean to. It just sort of… popped out of me. I've never even attempted a non-verbal spell before.'

'I wish I could have seen his face.' He gave her a wolfish grin. 'How did you get around using magic outside Hogwarts? I was nearly expelled.'

Her flush deepened and she looked down, tracing the book's title with her finger. 'Well— technically— we're not allowed… but I realised the Ministry wouldn't be able to track us down because of the Fidelius Charm.'

Harry whistled. 'That's bloody brilliant.' He flopped onto his back, his arms under his head as he stared up at the pink clouds. 'I can't believe Snape let you get away with it.'

Hermione laid down beside him. It wasn't brilliant, it was ridiculously stupid. She was lucky neither her nor Ron had done any real damage — there were so many ways it could have quickly gone wrong. She almost wished Snape had punished them, just so she could rid herself of the horrible embarrassment that came with doing something so foolish.

At the time, she felt like duelling Ron was the only thing that would keep her equilibrium in check. Since the end of term there was all this nervous energy inside her, threatening to consume her. They had done some reckless things during their time at Hogwarts and somehow pulled through, but it didn't escape her that they'd only survived the Department of Mysteries on sheer luck. Her anxiety was only made worse by the knowledge that stumbling head-first into danger had resulted in Sirius' death. And Harry's chance at a happier future.

Hermione sucked in a deep breath. 'How do you cope with it,' she asked, her voice small. 'Knowing we might face You-Know-Who or the Death Eaters again one day? If Dumbledore hadn't turned up when he did…'

Neither of them needed to finish the terrifying thought.

Harry was quiet for a moment. 'It scares me a lot. But I've got no other choice, have I? Either must die at the hand of the other, for neither can live while the other survives. I have to be the one to kill Voldemort, unless he kills me first.'

Her throat suddenly felt all scratchy and she laced her fingers through his. 'Oh Harry.'

'We still have time though. As long as Dumbledore's around we'll be safe at Hogwarts. Besides,' he squeezed her hand back, 'we held our own at the Ministry, didn't we? If we did it before, we can do it again.'

If only she had an ounce of Harry's stubborn determination. 'You did well, but I got hit. If I hadn't silenced him I would have died.'

He rolled over on his side, his green eyes burning. 'Is that why you broke the rules? Because you think you aren't good enough?'

She focused on the collar of his shirt, her eyes hot.

'Hermione, listen to me. You are the cleverest witch I've ever met.'

'Who only got an E in Defence Against the Dark Arts,' she interjected.

'It's only a grade. How many other sixteen year olds can say they fought against Death Eaters and survived. It's not exactly like we had the best teacher last year either.'

She rubbed her eyes. 'If Slughorn is half as good as everyone says, there might be hope for us yet.'

Harry laughed. 'He can't be any worse than Lockhart.' He leant over and tapped the tip of her nose with her finger. 'We'll be fine. We always are.'

Her heart swelled, warmth pushing out the darkness and doubt. She offered him a small smile.

'Oi you two. One last game before it gets dark?' Ron called.

'Coming?' Harry jerked his head toward the field.

'You go on. I don't think my ego can take another fall this summer.'

Harry stood up, stretching his arms over his head. 'How about you versus Ginny and I?' he yelled back

Ron's laughter came over the field as Harry kicked his broom off the ground. 'Not a bloody chance.'

'It's only because he knows we'll annihilate him, Harry,' Ginny teased.

Hermione flung her arms out across the cool grass, staring up at the swirling oranges and pinks in the sky above her. She inhaled the last of the summer air. Despite all the extraordinary things she had seen and done over the past five years, her heart still called to the simple magic in life. It was soothing for the soul to be grounded in nature like this.

Harry had a point. How many times had they come up against the darkness and won?

All the same, they had lost Sirius and the war had only just begun. She had a sinking feeling that their luck was slowly running out.

Hermione let the first two weeks of term embrace her like an old friend. Classes and textbooks, this was what she did best. This was where her talents lay. She knew how to be a student, how to throw herself into the complexities of Arithmancy and focus her attention in Transfiguration. The intricacies of duelling were more difficult. Humans weren't designed to be memorised; you couldn't study someone for hours and correctly identify their motives in black and white. But knowledge and academia… hidden between the towering stacks of the library with a fresh quill in her hand, this was where she was at home.

Unfortunately the school year hadn't quite gotten off to the smooth start she had anticipated. As N.E.W.T students, their lessons were considerably harder. There was also the added difficulty of having to complete most spell work non-verbally. Although Hermione was having better luck with it than Ron and Harry, she still found herself slumped in a chair in the common room by the end of the day, her temples wrought with headache.

On the plus side, it seemed Harry's dream of becoming an Auror wasn't completely lost. With Snape finally taking up his coveted post in Defence Against the Dark Arts (which, she had to admit, his lessons were actually quite interesting), Slughorn had welcomed Harry and Ron into his class with open arms.

There was a catch of course.

Hermione stole a glance at Harry while carefully syphoning her Wound Cleaning Potion into a vial. His was a richer shade of purple than her own and had a smoother consistency.

'That's not right,' she ground out.

Ron leant over the bench to have a look. 'How come yours doesn't look like ours?'

'I just followed the instructions,' Harry said simply. He eyeballed the rest of the potion into his bottle and placed a stopper in it.

Her knuckles turned white around her vial. 'The ones printed in the book?'

'No of course not. The Prince's.' He stood up and carried his sample to Slughorn's desk. Hermione ground her teeth together, scowling at the back of his head. That stupid book.

As they hadn't been prepared to take the class, Slughorn had been kind enough to lend Harry and Ron copies of the Advanced Potion-Making. Harry had inherited one covered with a previous student's notes, many of them deviating wildly from the original text. She hadn't been too bothered about it, until following the scrawled instructions won him a vial of Felix Felicis.

Slughorn grinned as Harry approached, his great moustache fluttering. 'Oho! My boy, what a delight,' he exclaimed, holding Harry's sample up to the light. 'What a magnificent colour you've achieved. Why, I haven't seen such a lovely specimen since Professor Snape was a student.'

The vial exploded in Hermione's hand, the sharp pinch of glass barely registering in her brain. This was ridiculous! She had followed the instructions to the letter. By all accounts her potion should have been perfect.

'Bloody hell Hermione, are you alright?' Ron gasped. He eased her hand open and blanched at the shards of glass embedded in her palm. 'I think you need to see Madam Pomfrey.'

Slughorn ambled over to them, Harry's potion still clasped in his hand. 'Easy does it now, Miss Granger. Let me have a look.' He waved his wand over her palm and she watched as the shards disappeared. With a wide smile he shook the vial of Wound Cleaning Potion. 'How very fortunate we have such an excellent potion-brewer in our midst!'

Harry looked suitably mortified. Hermione let Slughorn drip some of the smoking potion onto her hand before pulling away, clutching her arm to her chest.

'Don't worry my dear, accidents happen to the best of us! There's still plenty left in your cauldron. Mr Weasley, would you be so kind as to prepare another sample for Miss Granger? There's a good lad,' Slughorn commented before moving away.

Hermione snatched the clean bottle out of Ron's hand. 'I'll do it myself.'

Ron and Harry cast each other a look before beginning to pack up. Her chest felt hot and tight as she bottled a second sample. She ought to say something to Slughorn, to tell him about Harry's book.

Slughorn looked up at her as she paused at his desk. 'Yes Miss Granger?'

The words were on the tip of her tongue. She could do it. She could snitch on him and have the book taken away.

Then what? Would Slughorn see it as cheating, like she did? If he did, would that mean Harry could fail the class?

He had been devastated by the thought of never becoming an Auror. The world was gloomy enough without having something positive to work toward, and Merlin knew Harry could use a bright spot at the end of the tunnel. She could never forgive herself if she somehow took that away from him.

Hermione gave Slughorn a demure smile. 'I wanted to thank you for fixing my hand, sir.'

'Not at all, not at all!' he said with a wave of his arm.

Just because she wouldn't tattle didn't mean she had to like it. Hermione skipped lunch in favour of making a start on her Ancient Runes homework in the library until it was time for Defence Against the Dark Arts. She was determined to have a better afternooon.

Head held high, Hermione made her way down the rows of desks, sliding into the front row.

'Is your hand alright Hermione? Did you visit the Hospital Wing?' Ron asked as he and Harry took their seats behind her. His voice grated her nerves. Her mood had definitely not improved then.

She kept her gaze on Snape's desk, her tone brisk. 'It's fine.'

'What's gotten into her?' Harry whispered.

Hermione spun around, sending him a dirty look before flipping open her textbook.

'I think you have your answer, mate,' Ron mumbled back.

Boys.

Before Harry could utter another word, Snape strode into the room, his black robes billowing behind him. Hermione sat up a little straighter. He leaned against the desk, his arms folding into his robes as he stared down at them.

'Who can tell me what Fiendfyre is?'

Hermione's hand shot into the air. Snape's eyes glanced over the room.

'Anyone,' he drawled.

'It's cursed fire, sir.' Hermione stated. 'Some say it could be considered one of the most dangerous curses as —'

'Fiendfyre is the deadliest fire a wizard can create,' Snape continued, as if she hadn't spoken. 'It is not to be confused with Gubraithian Fire, although both will burn for eternity under the right circumstances. Can anyone tell me why Fiendfyre might be useful?'

Refusing to be deterred, Hermione raised her hand. Again his icy eyes swept over her.

'Mr Longbottom?'

She turned around to see Neville visibly shaking.

'Because it's really hot?' He supplied, his voice wobbling. Malfoy and Pansy snickered and heat rose to Hermione's cheeks in Neville's defence.

'He's right, sir. Because it burns so hot it can be used to destroy objects even—'

She jumped as Snape's hands came down on the desk in front of her, his face thunderous. 'Five points from Gryffindor,' he snarled. 'Miss Granger, that is the second time you've spoken out of turn. Either keep your thoughts to yourself or get out of my classroom.'

'She was only answering your question,' Harry protested.

'And yet,' Snape said, his voice quiet. 'I don't seem to remember calling on her. Two points for talking back, Mr Potter.'

Hermione fought the urge to shift under his gaze, her bottom lip trembling. 'I'm sorry, Professor Snape.'

'Let's see if we can make it through the rest of class without you bouncing in your seat like an excitable puppy.'

Her head bowed, she sunk down into her chair and busied herself with re-filling her quill. Her eyes welled up.

The pounding in her ears distracted her as the lesson dragged on. Instead of paying attention to Snape's detailed explanation on how to banish Fiendfyre, her vision tunnelled as Malfoy made noises like a whimpering dog. Her hands clenched under the desk when Snape called for some participants to practice a shielding spell. Ron's look of pity sent her bloody boiling.

By the time the bell rang and Snape had dismissed them, her heart beat furiously in her chest. She stood up with more force than necessary, her chair hitting the desk behind her with a snap.

'Don't let him get to you, Hermione,' Harry murmured, touching her elbow. She stared down at the top of Snape's head, her nails digging into her palms.

Ron hesitated at the end of the row. 'Hermione?'

She shot him a glare. He rolled his eyes and tugged on Harry's bag. 'Let's go. It's her funeral.'

Harry gave her one last look of concern before she heard their hurried footsteps leaving the classroom.

Hermione stood at her desk, counting the seconds while she waited for Snape to acknowledge her presence.

30 seconds.

Two minutes.

Five minutes.

Before finally—

'I believe I said you were dismissed.'

He continued to mark the papers in front of him.

A muscle in her jaw twitched. 'You're being unfair, sir. I only answered your question.'

'I wasn't under the impression that my job required me to be fair. Only to teach you how to defend yourselves against dark wizards,' he replied silkily.

'Like yourself?' The second the words flew from her mouth she knew she had crossed the line.

Slowly, Snape put his quill down and regarded her with deadly calmness.

Hermione's knees went weak, her face ashen. Idiot. She wanted to hide under the desk and never come out.

His mouth twisted into an ugly sneer. 'I seem to have underestimated you, Miss Granger,'' he taunted. 'I expected this sort of behaviour from Potter.'

'I'm sorry, sir. I didn't… I shouldn't have said that,' she stammered.

'You're turning out to be quite the rule breaker. Don't think I've forgotten about your little escapade this summer. Perhaps I should have expelled you while I had the chance.'

Her chest broke out in an icy sweat. From the dangerous look on his face she knew Snape was seriously considering it. She had somehow escaped without punishment at Grimmauld Place but they were on his territory here. There was no way he would let her insolence go unnoticed a second time.

'Twenty points from Gryffindor for your cheek,' he said at last, picking up his quill to resume his marking.

'Yes sir,' she whispered, scrambling to pick up her book bag. She nearly made it to the classroom door when his sharp voice raked down her back.

'And Miss Granger—'

She froze.

'Detention. Seven o'clock, in my office on Friday.'

Hermione fled before the room swallowed her whole.

Author Notes:

Goodness, thank you so much for all your support! Every one of you has made my week.

Playlist:
Where Does the Good Go (Still Jealous version), Tegan and Sara
all the good girls go to hell, Billie Eilish