Tension drew Hermione's shoulders back Monday morning, the air of the school seeming thick with anticipation of something. The twins' plan was kept silent; they couldn't risk someone ratting them out before it even happened. Harry needed the distraction and dammit, Hermione was going to make it happen. Earning Harry's trust was vital, after all.
Between her contemplation of career choices and morning classes, time passed by rather quickly. She'd arrived to Severus' class before the others and greeted the man with a wave and brief hug. They hadn't gotten a chance to talk during the break and, honestly, she missed his company. He was her mentor and her friend; he'd become an important piece of her puzzle. Not all of the pieces fit yet, but they would. She had to believe everything would fall into place. She'd drive herself insane otherwise.
Her career counseling wasn't until Wednesday, but it still left her apprehensive. She wanted a job within the Ministry, that much she knew, but the knowledge of her heritage was bound to hinder her potential positions. She wanted to advocate for magical creatures and their abhorrent treatment within the Wizarding World. Being different did not make them monsters. Greyback was her friend; yes, being a Death Eater made him deadly and his morality questionable, but it wasn't his lycanthropy.
Just as not all humans were good, not all creatures were monsters.
Strolling down the hall after DADA, narrowly avoiding the other students, Hermione almost missed Ginny settling beside her and keeping stride with her.
"It's time," Ginny murmured, nearly inaudible over the chatter of their peers. "They've already planted them. They're waiting for the most opportune time - both for themselves and Harry. They've also created a diversion in the fifth floor, but that was is specifically meant for Umbridge. I've got to go tell Harry, but I thought you would appreciate the warning."
Hermione laughed cheerily. "I look forward to this."
Smirking, the youngest Weasley eyed Hermione. Less than a year ago Hermione was easily the most uptight person she'd ever encountered and now, she was devious and devilish; a troublemaker who assisted the twins with their hairbrain schemes without much complaint or worry. She never thought she'd see the day but Merlin she was happy she did.
Ginny squeezed Hermione's bicep affectionately before disappearing into the crowd. Clicking her tongue, Hermione shook her head, a smirk blooming across pink lips. She'd never expected her friendship with Draco and Ginny to ease the tension within and loosen her up, but she appreciated that it did. It was kind of nice not stressing over the little things (considering she had plenty of big things to worry about).
Scoping the crowd, Hermione noticed Draco and his cohorts leaning against a wall, antagonizing different Houses as they passed by. Crabbe and Goyle were not favorites of Hermione. They were brass, cruel - and honestly, they were fucking idiots. How they hadn't been expelled was beyond her. Whenever they talked, she wanted to hex them just so they'd shut up for five bloody minutes. Truly, she'd rather be in the company of Pansy than them.
And that was saying something.
Wandering over to the Slytherins, Hermione linked arms with Draco and tugged him away from the wall, his cronies falling in behind them. Brow arching, Draco awaited an explanation.
"Fred and George have set up a series of pranks throughout the school and I need you to distract Umbridge and delay her to the best of your ability. I plan to, but I cannot alone," Hermione murmured, directing him through the swarm.
"Will you explain why?"
Shaking her head, Hermione whispered apologetically. "I can't. Not with," Hermione glanced over her shoulder before returning her attention to the blonde, "them around. I will later."
"Why should we?" demanded Goyle, though his jaw clicked audibly when Draco glared sharply at him.
"Because she said so. If Hermione tells you to do something, you do it," he snapped. "Don't forget your place." It was always startling to see Draco fall into his pureblood haughtiness, a command in his posture that made better men than them shrink back uncomfortably.
"Of course, Malfoy," Crabbe grumbled, nudging Goyle in the ribs.
Draco eyed his lackies critically. They'd been born into two equally old-fashioned, misogynistic families that respected only the highest of powers. Having to listen to a female (a Gryffindor female at that) was challenging everything they knew. But, at least they were attempting to heed her orders.
"We'll do our part," Draco vowed, bumping his head against Hermione's affectionately. "Now you just go do yours."
-X-
For once, a plan seemed to go off without a hitch. Umbridge was so flummoxed by the twins' pranks that she was utterly oblivious to Harry's sneaking. It was bittersweet watching their inevitable departure but…
It was a brilliant way to go out.
Even Peeves gave them a respectful salute as they took flight, the thunderous applause overpowering Umbridge's furious screeching. She'd never been prouder of the twin terrors.
The treacherous specter became source to a majority of Umbridge's problems - and the swamp was Filch's. Ferrying students about the fifth floor was torturous and plenty of students made sure to need transporting as often as possible. Teachers and students alike raged against the Headmistress. Many of the twins' creations were left to wreak havoc, while others were "sickening" students.
It was ridiculous - and oh so glorious.
Her career meeting with McGonagall was rather uneventful. She wasn't subjected - thankfully - to Umbridge like Harry had been so it allowed for some leeway. She genuinely couldn't imagine not going into a Ministry position, much to McGonagall's delight.
The older professor hadn't had time to really talk with Hermione outside of classes (even before Dumbledore's exiling), but it was nice to know that Hermione's blood status - and subsequent friendship with Draco - hadn't altered the person she was truly was. She could see Hermione succeeding in politics and would do all she could to help the young woman.
Slowly, the week crept by and the mayhem within the school seemed to build. Hermione had been walking with Harry and Ginny as they passed Peeves, valiantly working to loosen a chandelier, when McGonagall strolled by and nonchalantly pointing out it unscrewed the other way.
According to Harry, his talk with Sirius had been enlightening - but Harry still would not be attending Occlumency lessons. He didn't say why and she never asked. She had the notion it involved his father's history with the professor but she didn't push. Probably best not to know in the long run.
She hadn't heard from Bella properly - aside from two very brief and far too formal letters - in almost three weeks. With Umbridge screening all incoming and outgoing parchments and packages, it was far too risky. The ache in her bones and the longing in her veins were two withdrawal effects she had not expected. Anxiety gripped her with each passing day, uncertainty darkening the deep recesses of her mind. If something drastic had happened to her lover, she would know, but that thought provided little relief.
The only comfort she could grasp onto was the brief lunch she and Draco had with Narcissa nearly two weeks after the twins' shenanigans. The matriarch was exhausted, but assured the teenagers that everything at the manor was fine. Quietly, she observed Hermione as discretely as she could, noting the subtleties that were glaringly Bella.
The way her legs twitched and shook, completely unable to stay stationary? Bellatrix. How she twirled a singular curl almost violently while regaling their school tales? Wholeheartedly Bellatrix. The nearly undetectably swirl of dark energy encasing the young Gryffindor? A mixture of Bellatrix, the Dark Lord and Hermione's own inner darkness - a deadly cocktail, really.
Growing up with Bellatrix, she'd learned early on how to decipher her sister's habits. If her foot was tapping, she was anxious and full of barely contained energy. The tugging of her hair signified she was pondering something, her thoughts so deafening that she needed something to tether her to the present, lest she been swept away by the madness of her mind. If she were anyone else, she would have dismissed those hints as nothing. But knowing what she did allowed for another perspective.
"I wonder why Mother insists on bringing you those potions," Draco hummed softly as the pair slipped out of the pub, the charmed case containing Hermione's potions held tight in his fist. "Snape is more than capable."
"She does it so she can report back to Father and Bella about me - well, actually us," Hermione replied unblinkingly. "I've known that since the beginning. I'm surprised you didn't." She chuckled, nudging her companion.
He tilted his head thoughtfully. "I didn't think of that. It would make sense."
Linking arms, they started back toward the castle, enjoying the sweet flowers of spring. Hermione adored the comforting scent of blooming foliage; how it enveloped her without suffocating her. Fall was peppered with cinnamon and pumpkin and the occasional mint. While it smelled nice, it was overwhelming and twisted her stomach. Too much sugar was bothersome.
"How are you feeling about the upcoming OWLs?" Hermione inquired, gazing out to appreciate the lush green littering their path.
"I'm not too worried, honestly. I've got a good grasp on the subjects and, should things go sideways, Father will pull some strings and none would be the wiser." Hermione shook her head in disapproval, but she expected nothing less from him. He was brilliant, but he tended to fall back on his family's connections.
Draco grinned devilishly. "If you have any problems, I'm positive Father will help you too."
"No," she replied firmly. "I want to pass fairly, on my own merits."
"It's just a thought," he chuckled. His nose scrunched in thought. "How do you suppose the Weasel twins managed a store in Diagon Alley? Their family is rather broke, aren't they? Do you think they got themselves into something illegal?" He perked up at the idea. Hermione almost hated to burst his bubble.
Almost.
"Harry gave them his winnings from the tournament last year."
Draco visibly deflated with a pout. "Oh."
Hermione giggled, much to his chagrin. But, he wasn't too affronted. Hermione rarely laughed these days. It was good to see her spirits lifted, even if just for a moment.
-X-
Days bled together and Hermione grew antsy. Classes became tougher in hopes of prepping the students for their OWLs and she spent most nights studying on her own. Harry had slowly migrated into their little group during meals, much to Draco and Ron's displeasure. The Weasley boy hated feeling left out, knowing the chasm widening with each passing day. So, doing what he did best, he forced himself into their circle and contributed nothing. He simply sat beside Harry and sulked, trading nasty glares with Draco.
The last weekend of May, Hermione and Harry strolled along the grounds, chatting quietly and trying to reacquaint themselves. With studying and the blatant animosity between Draco and the two Gryffindors he'd feuded with for years, they didn't really have a chance to interact alone. Their silences were awkward, but the conversations were coming easier than before.
From an outsider's point of view, nothing would seem off, but the stilted tone and careful words were obvious. She was calculated, always wary and vigilant. She never wanted to show her hand, especially with their "renewed" friendship.
A hoarse "pssst" caught Hermione's attention and she glanced toward a haggard looking Hagrid. He was desperately trying to remained unnoticed, peering about nervously. His eyes were bruised and his nose bloodied; he was quite a gnarly sight and it worried Hermione immensely.
"Hagrid, are you okay?" she yelped, brow arching as Hagrid hurriedly shushed her, though she took no offense.
"I need yeh both to come with me. Now?" He continued to study the surrounding area, hoping to avoid any curious eyes. He was satisfied to see almost nobody nearby.
"Of course." Hermione nodded, tugging Harry along as the half-giant descended toward his hut. He was clearly agitated and paranoid, his hands twitching every few seconds.
They shared a concerned look, following close behind though they jogged to keep up with his large, brisk stride. Instead of stopping at the hut, he continued straight for the forest, his crossbow gleaming dauntingly in the bright sun. He slipped through a small opening and gestured for them to follow.
"Why do you have your crossbow?" Harry asked uncomfortably, eyeing it with caution.
"Jus' in case."
Blinking, Hermione's head tilted in confusion. "In case of what, exactly? You weren't carrying that when we came into the forest last time."
Hagrid grunted. "Tha' was 'fore they got upset with me. 'Fore Firenze left, we was on good terms. Not anymore."
Hermione swallowed hard. "What happened?"
"Firenze left," Hagrid repeated with a shrug, as though it were obvious. "Bloody near kicked the poor centaur teh death. If I hadn' stopped 'em, they pro'bly woulda killed 'im, poor bastard."
"They tried to kill him?" Hermione squeaked, startled by the revelation. She thought they'd been on rather good terms with the centaurs - or at the very least tolerated the other.
Apparently not.
Forging on, silence was threatening to choke the Gryffindors. Something was very wrong here.
"Why are we here, Hagrid?" Harry wondered timidly. "The centaurs?"
Hagrid chuckled humorlessly and the uneasy feeling bloomed into apprehension and anxiety. They were beginning to regret following the man. It may be their worst decisiom to date - well, maybe. They could only hope Hagrid wasn't dragging them into something dangerous.
"No," he huffed. "It has nothin' to do with 'em."
They meandered into the overgrown parts of the forest, the light blocked almost entirely by the treetops. The occasional beam peeked through, illuminating pieces of the damp ground. Thorns pricked at their skin and attached to their robes but they soldiered onward, curiosity getting the better of them.
"Light yer wands and I'll 'plain what yer doing 'ere."
"Thank Merlin," Hermione muttered, a soft "Lumos" passing pursed lips.
Swallowing nervously, Hagrid glanced over his shoulder. "Yeh see…"
-X-
Of all the ways Hermione had expected her day to go, this wasn't it. Grawp, Hagrid's little - Hermione snorted - brother, was absolutely terrifying but kind of endearing in a morbid way. Standing at sixteen feet, he reminded her of a small child…
Or maybe a feral animal.
Studying Grawp, she nodded definitively. Oh yeah, feral animal is more appropriate.
He was tugging and jerking at the trees surrounding him, watching gleefully as they bounced about. He didn't seem too interested in them, which Hermione couldn't say bothered her. The less attention he paid to them, the less likely he was to accidentally break every bone in their fucking bodies! He'd made a grab for her, but quick foot work and Harry's painful grip saved her from him.
Truthfully, Hagrid would never manage to teach him. He should have left him with the other giants. He clearly wasn't happy, chained and shackled like a monster. He was a creature, but not some pet Hagrid could domesticate. This was probably his worst idea.
Ever.
What Hagrid was asking for seemed impossible. They were teenagers left in charge of a giant! What were they supposed to do? How do you keep a creature happy when it hates its captivity. Honestly, Hermione was debating letting Grawp go if Hagrid was fired.
What a bloody mess, Hermione groaned. What had she done in a previous life to deserve this mayhem? Could no one give her a damn break? She already had enough to stress over - and now there was a giant in need of company! She could be gray-haired before she graduated from Hogwarts; she was sure of it.
"This is insane," Hermione hissed as they wandered back toward the castle. "We can't babysit a giant, let alone teach it English! Besides, the centaur made it very clear we aren't welcome."
Firenze's old herd had found them before they had begun their journey home, disgust and fury dripping from thinly veiled threats. Saving Firenze's life had destroyed what tentative relationship the centaurs had with Hogwarts' residences. The idea of angering them more sent chills down Hermione's spine. They said they wouldn't hurt "foals" but how long until they changed their minds?
Harry shrugged helplessly, staring blankly at the back of Hagrid's oversize jacket. He'd promised to help, but he wished he hadn't said anything until after he'd known what the favor was. Hermione couldn't stop herself from wondering why he couldn't disappoint Hagrid the same way he had her.
"After this stunt, he'll definitely be tossed out of the school. Hell, he'll be lucky if he doesn't wind up in Azkaban. Why in Merlin's name did he do this to himself? And how in the world could he think two teenagers could handle this responsibility?" Hermione raged, careful of her volume. She was angry, but she didn't really want to hurt the giant's feelings. He was good man, just misguided.
Very misguided.