This fanfiction will focus almost solely upon Hermione, because I choose to
have it so. Although Harry and Ron are not evil, precisely, they are
irrational, as I've always imagined them to be. And yes, Draco Malfoy does
play a role. If you intensely dislike any of the aforementioned characters
and wish that he/she be disemboweled, I suggest you write your own
fanfiction, as that will certainly not be taking place in mine.
Additional note of 11/26/2003: I am almost done revising this first chapter, so I thought I might as well put up this notice. This is revised. It has been OotP-ified, as well as improved. There are several differences. I believe that there are six chapters up already on ff.net. These six will only be revised if they have a note at the time mentioning this. If they do not, then they follow a different storyline, and will be confusing. Thank you for your time.
Hermione was not happy. She was actually quite a passive girl, and rarely found herself upset. She was only truly upset when she felt lonely or depressed or when her friends abandoned her or when she saw injustice or when she received a mark she thought she did not deserve . and so on. However, it was barely a month into the first term of Sixth Year, and already she found herself unhappier than she had ever been in her entire life, and that included the entire stint in Third Year when Harry and Ron wouldn't talk to her, first because of the "Firebolt thing", and then because of the "Pettigrew thing".
It was bad enough that Voldemort was on the loose. Now that everyone except the densest had accepted his return, school had almost become a thing of terror. Students crept around hallways in massive groups, darting glances right and left, as if that would help them if Death Eaters attacked. Slytherins were now hated more viciously than ever, which was a shame, Hermione reflected, as if there were any Slytherins neutral or against the Muggle-killings, there wouldn't be any left once Hogwarts students were finished convicting them of mass-murder.
Half of the teachers were gone, most likely on some special mission or other. Professor Snape, Hagrid, Professor Flitwick, and Professor Vector no longer taught, and Dumbledore was seldom seen. No effort had been made to replace these teachers, and the Daily Prophet (which was clearly just another source of propaganda) reported on rumors galore of dead professors and tortured professors and defected professors, seemingly intent on destroying the public's faith in Hogwarts, and most importantly, Dumbledore.
Professor McGonagall and Sprout briskly bustled throughout the school, keeping order, if somewhat brusquely. Although both were nowhere near the state of panic and near-nervous-breakdown Madam Pomfrey existed in, neither did either maintain a convincing air of serenity. As it was, only the unruffled and late Professor Binns seemed unaware of the events taking place in the world around him, most likely to remain at Hogwarts droning on about Goblin Rebellions until the end of time and beyond.
Even her friends had changed. Harry had grown taller, and was more wiry than skinny. His dark black hair was still as messy as always, but now, the girls in her dorm termed his rumpled hair as "sexy". Ron had grown taller still, now towering above her by almost a full head, and his flaming red hair had darkened into a very charming auburn. He was trailing broken hearts as well.
And then, disaster struck. Two weeks into the year, Harry and Ron had declared their love (or crushes, depending on your point of view) for her simultaneously. Furious at each other, they had decided (who knows why) to have a wizard's duel, and ended up getting into a horrendous amount of trouble. Because she was a prefect, Hermione had been obliged to report their duel, and because she was their friend, she had done it so they wouldn't hurt each other.
They hadn't seen it her way, of course, and had blown up at her. They had been furious, and had expressed their displeasure very vocally. They hadn't even apologized afterwards. Harry and Ron were now friends with each other again, but neither deigned to speak to Hermione. As it was, Hermione was having a very lonely Sixth Year.
But that all changed very soon.
Hermione was once again studiously spending her time in the now more chaotic library when Professor McGonagall approached, shaking her head. "Miss Granger, Professor Dumbledore wishes to speak to you." Her tone said a lot about what she thought of Dumbledore's "wishing to speak with her" and this surprised Hermione. She was also startled by the fact that Dumbledore was actually at Hogwarts for once, not off battling Voldemort in some morbid section of the world, and actually wanted to see her.
Hermione did not express her surprise to the Head of Gryffindor, of course. Instead, she obediently stood up and gathered her things, following Professor McGonagall through a never-before-traveled set of winding staircases and trick hallways. Needless to say, she was a bit startled when what appeared to be a door that opened into nothingness actually opened into an ornate hallway, which promptly revealed itself to be quite normal as soon as McGonagall tapped it with her wand three times. They finally arrived in front of a gargoyle that was the twin of the one Harry had described as the Professor's, but not in the same surroundings.
"Sub rosa," the Professor said in a queer tone that seemed to reverberate through the hallway yet not travel any farther beyond a certain sphere. Hermione supposed that it was part of the password that a Professor at Hogwarts had to say the password and had to order it as a Professor.
The gargoyle swung open, and Hermione followed Professor McGonagall inside. She had the sense not to ask the now-irritable Professor why they were traveling through what was apparently a back door.
They entered a round room which might have been the Headmaster's office but the walls were bare and Hermione herself had never paid the Headmaster a visit in his office. Professor Dumbledore was sitting at an empty desk, however, although the portraits Hermione had heard habited the Headmaster's Room were nowhere to be seen.
"Ah, Miss Granger," Dumbledore said pleasantly. "Please be seated."
Professor McGonagall excused herself from the room almost immediately.
"You wished to speak with me, Professor?" Hermione asked politely.
Professor Dumbledore frowned. "Recently, there have been rifts between this school and the Ministry of Magic."
Hermione nodded slowly. What was he getting at? The "rifts" were common knowledge. Fudge, the fool that he was, had finally accepted Voldemort's return, but still seemed fixed on the belief that Dumbledore wanted to be Minister of Magic.
"So the school has decided to take matters into its own hands," Professor Dumbledore said. "Recently, we have been searching among the students for ones who would be willing to devote all of their time to defeating Lord Voldemort."
"Yes?" Hermione asked.
"Would you like to become a Preliminary Auror?"
"A what?" Hermione choked.
"I assume you have heard of the Order of the Mystics?" Dumbledore asked patiently.
"Yes," Hermione said promptly. "Back in the 17th Century, when a number of witches and wizards began to turn to the dark side, and the Ministry became corrupt, a number of wizards and witches got together and formed the Order of the Mystics, whose purpose was to right wrongs. Several decades after the founding of the Order, it split off into the Order of the Phoenix, the Order of the Unicorn, and later, the Order of Merlin. The Order of the Unicorn died out in the nineteenth century. The Order of Merlin has become an entirely bureaucratic award given to those who donate large amounts of money to the Ministry. The Order of the Phoenix currently fights Y- Voldemort," she recited, word-for-word from the textbook she had read it from.
"The Order of the Unicorn had a very useful technique in which they employed children, and trained the children as Preliminary members, doing Order work in their spare time. This way, by the time they reached their majority, they were prepared for the world out there. I have seen fit to reestablish this practice, but for now, I am only choosing four students who I think capable of handling this responsibility and their schoolwork, as well as four students I think capable of being decoys and not dying as a trial.
"The student Preliminary Aurors will be the ones I will eventually rely on to investigate any occurrences within Hogwarts walls, once they are trained," Professor Dumbledore explained. "I am now asking you if you feel that you can successfully balance schoolwork and this responsibility, if you are willing to become a Preliminary Auror lab rat, of sorts. You do understand that you will be forced to give up your friendship, to violate other people's rights, and to go against your conscience in order to fulfill your missions?" Dumbledore was frank, but his words were kindly.
Hermione hesitated. She really, truly wanted to do something glorious and wonderful and achieve recognition-that was her Gryffindor side speaking. In her heart, she knew that this was an incredibly important decision to make, and she should not be hasty in the making. But something . something within her compelled her to open her mouth and say the word, "Yes," thus sealing her fate for ever.
"Wonderful," Dumbledore said merrily. "Lemon drop?"
~*~
There are three other Preliminaries and four decoys. None of their identities will be revealed to you. If you choose to, you may try to figure them out, but you are advised not to. When encountering danger, you must keep your cool. When caught, you must not speak. Unforgivable curses may be used on you, but you must resist against them. Training will be harsh, but you are expected not to give up. You will be expected to think only for the Order, and saving the world must come before your personal niceties. You will be expected to perform impossible tasks, but you must not fail to try. The world is depending on you, Hermione Granger, and you must not let her down. The words pounded over and over through Hermione's head, part of the mantra she recited every day before Preliminary Auror Training, or PAT. Thankfully, PAT was over, but she could not get the mantra out of her head. It whispered in her dreams and distracted her from her schoolwork.
Unable to fall asleep, Hermione sat up and began to stretch out her worn-out muscles. It's the middle of the night, she scolded herself. If she were smart, she would start on the meditation techniques and lull herself back to sleep. Instead, she clutched her covers with something akin to hesitation. Her stirring upset Crookshanks, who lazily stretched, and strode over to Parvati's bed, settling the Indians girl's soft (and immobile) covers.
Hermione smiled. No matter how much Ron disliked Crookshanks, the girls in her room adored the sweet cat, and fed him all the time. Now that she was distracted from the increasing concerns that came with being a Pre- Auror (and officially "field duty" hadn't even begun yet), she began to reflect on her large orange cat. He was quite intelligent, and she wouldn't be surprised if he were at least part Kneazle. Her worry was if he was an Animagus (or something of the like), which was a silly worry, she knew. Yet there was always that lingering doubt .
Normally, cats hated dogs, yet Crookshanks had befriended Sirius. Not only that, he had helped the Animagus in many ways, and had even gone so far as to attack Scabbers, the fake rat. It was almost as if he could sense or recognize the friendliness and hostility of transformed Animagi. It was, she continually convinced herself, just a part of that suspected Kneazle blood, but yet .
This led to a more serious issue, in Hermione's teenage opinion. If Crookshanks happened to be an Animagus, he was definitely a male; she didn't think that you could change your gender in the Animagus transformation, but she wasn't sure. Hermione made a note to ask Professor McGonagall that next time they met. She had begun shooing Crookshanks out when she changed anyways, although that might have been due to the fact that Crookshanks enjoyed munching bloody mice and getting it all over her clothes.
Now successfully distracted, Hermione went back to sleep.
There are three other Preliminaries and four decoys. None of their identities will be revealed to you.
~*~
You will know the other Pre-Aurors as Black Dragon, Fairy Elf, and Lone Unicorn. You, yourself, will be known as the Flaming Phoenix . Fail us not, Flaming Phoenix, for you time to prove yourself has come.
~*~
Hermione strode over to Madam Hooch. The Quidditch Instructor had just finished teaching a new batch of First-Years how to fly (and had taken off the Undetecting Spells that would allow them to escape the notice of Death Eaters while on Hogwarts grounds).
"Yes?" Madam Hooch asked. Although Hermione had eventually mastered the skill of flying, it had taken a while. Madam Hooch knew that Hermione occasionally practiced flying by flying around the field. Unlike Ron or Harry, flying was not a skill came naturally to her. Instead, it was one that required practice.
"I hear that the position of Quidditch Advisor is open," Hermione said tentatively. The position of Quidditch Advisor was one that the Headmaster had invented recently, and mainly involved moral support, and most importantly, checking the field before a game for sabotage. With the entire VWII going on, it was always better to be safe than sorry.
Madam Hooch looked at Hermione Granger with some appraisal, and nodded. "You will need to contact the new captain-who hasn't been decided yet because of the delay in the beginning of the Quidditch matches due to current conditions. You will have to discuss the extent of your errands with the entire team."
Hermione nodded firmly. Of the four Preliminary Aurors, she was the one assigned to keep a watch on the Quidditch matches which would start soon. The others had their own tasks, of which she was not supposed to know for security reasons. Dumbledore had explained that as time went on, they would partner up in missions, and eventually would not have to keep up the disguise between themselves, but until then, they were required at all times to wear a glamour and don a mask for double security.
This was her first official task, and she would not mess it up.
~*~
Hermione sighed and got on her Nimbus 2000 (which although was by a new an older model, was still quite expensive-but covered for in school expense). She would do this. After all, PAT had required flying training, and it had taken her a while, but she had eventually mastered it.
She hovered slightly on her broom, frowning. This game was soon, so she would have to research a couple of extra tracking charms, surveillance charms, wards, and the like just in case. As well as some emergency spells. Voldemort's need to empower Harry, emasculate Harry, overpower Harry, convert Harry, or whatever had been his purpose before was gone. Instead, he simply wanted Harry dead. A Quidditch match was a perfect opening. Not if she had her way.
As she gently steered her broomstick, she calmed her nerves. She was the first one there, not surprisingly, and she had half-an-hour before Training would start. If she could calm her nerves down, she would be good at this. As she soared around, she began to ease into a more comfortable position, so as t keep her rear end from going numb. She decided against going upside-down, (a trick she had been taught-but one which always seemed to end in her throwing up) and just began flying in and out through the holes where the Quaffle was scored. Soon, she found herself relaxing into the broom, and breathed a sigh of relief. Once she got used to the movement, she was less likely to fall off of it.
After five more minutes of blessed isolation, however, Harry and Ron approached the field, struggling with the equipment.
"Gryffindor signed up for the field," Ron yelled.
"So get off!" Harry called.
Hermione frowned. They definitely were testier and more irritable than before. She dipped her broomstick handle down and halted in front of them still hovering over the ground, with her feet a foot above it.
"I was still in Gryffindor last time I checked," she said frostily. She made a point to stare behind them, not at them. She could not bear it to look in their eyes and see enmity.
Harry and Ron seemed genuinely startled, and would Hermione have looked at them, she would have seen a hint of wistfulness in their faces. "What are you doing here?" Harry asked, wincing as soon as the tactless words left his mouth.
"I'm your new Quidditch Advisor," she said primly, turning away so as not to let them see her trembling lip.
"Oh?" Ron asked, startled.
Hermione did not wait for any more, before flying up to leave. "And you don't need to worry. It's been finalized by Madam Hooch already," she called behind her back.
As soon as everybody arrived, practice began. As Quidditch Advisor, Hermione did not actively participate, but she circled the field several times, setting up wards to prevent being seen by either Death Eaters or spying rival teams, the second a request from Ron (politely worded, at least).
She paused to talk to Ginny occasionally, even nodding to some of the younger Gryffindors, but she pointedly ignored Ron and Harry. If occasionally it seemed that they were not talking to her, it was most likely because they were so involved with their Quidditch. Both were avidly explaining strategy after strategy, trying to employ tactic after tactic. They ruthlessly ordered Chasers to practice complicated passes and moves over and over again, trying to get shots past Ron. Beaters were to practice knocking Bludgers at each other, trying to find new and more innovative ways to block the Bludgers.
Hermione, wither rudimentary knowledge of Quidditch, found it quite fascinating. All too soon, practice was over, she dismantled the wards. She headed back inside, preparing to send Dumbledore an "all-safe" message.
~*~
Hermione hastily finished dismantling the wards from yet another practice, watching as Ravenclaws began to stream onto the field. Ducking behind bleachers and ready to head back inside the school, she realized too late that her bag was still out. Hesitating, she held out her hand, and spoke, "Accio Bag." The bag flew into her hand in a matter of seconds, having zipped among the Ravenclaws, who dodged it without a second thought, most likely assuming that some Gryffindor was Summoning it from inside. After another hesitation, Hermione closed her eyes, and disappeared with a quiet pop.
Padma Patil, who had been looking down from the bleachers above, was unnerved. Wandless magic was impossible, wasn't it? And did not Hogwarts, A History state that it was impossible to Apparate or Disapparate from school grounds?
~*~
The Halloween Ball would take place in two weeks, and that in itself warranted much preparation, especially for the first public meeting of the Preliminary Aurors. Before then, there was a game which she had to attend, as Quidditch Advisor. Against Ravenclaw. She sighed. And she had a huge test in Transfiguration the day after Halloween, and a big quiz in Herbology the day before All Hallow's Eve.
Hermione was frustrated. She would never continue her high scores if she had Quidditch and the Halloween Ball to attend. But it wasn't like she could quit either. She had agreed to take this mission, and she would not refrain from completing it for any reason.
She plopped down on her bed and reached for her handy-dandy bubble wrap. Although people looked at her strangely when she mentioned it, popping bubble wrap was a very useful meditation technique for her. It calmed her down, but as a result, she often went through many sheets of bubble wrap. Luckily, she had managed to come up with a spell that continually "fixed" the popped bubbles, so she had an everlasting sheet of bubble wrap. Very useful when stressed. As her fingers went to work and her mind began to blank out, she smiled blissfully, and her thoughts began to organize themselves. The most important thing to do was to prepare for the game. And then, Herbology, then prepare for the Halloween Ball, and then Transfiguration. Of course, she would study for Herbology and Transfiguration at the same time, and she would probably have to give up some of her lunchtime to go over some of the more complex theorems of Transfiguration with Professor McGonagall, but it was manageable.
~*~
Hermione was walking the perimeter of the field with Morag MacDougal*, Ravenclaw Quidditch Advisor, and trading some useful wards and techniques. Morag was also very studious, and Hermione found that Morag was a pleasant enough companion, if a bit stilted in speech.
By the time she and Morag had finished setting up defenses against a stray blast from the War Outside (for that was what one always referred to it as, never contemplating for a second that it might come inside the walls of Hogwarts-even Death Eater sent their children to Hogwarts because they believed it to be safe!) time had started for the game to begin. Hermione leaned back and wiped some of the perspiration off of her face. She gazed the Quidditch field with some trepidation as the members of Gryffindor team began to file on. Sighing, she got up and walked over to her teammates, briefing them on some minor changes in the wards and what side-effects they would have. For one thing, there was no wind inside a certain perimeter inside the field, something that might have unnerved them if she did not tell them. She also mentioned the few spells that would make the wards glow briefly if they flew outside the boundary of the field, which may or may not help or hinder them. The glow was mainly an advance last-minute warning for debris and the like flying in.
Finally, she stepped back, and watched as the game began.
To be continued .
*I'm too lazy to look up whether Morag is a he or a she, a Ravenclaw, Gryffindor, Hufflepuff, or Slytherin, and I really don't care right now. Anyone who wishes to enlighten me is welcome to do so in an email (stating their source, of course, preferably quoting pages of the American Edition of the book) or a review. Of websites, The Harry Potter Lexicon is the only source I might believe. As of now, Morag is genderless. Like Blaise Zabini.
Additional note of 11/26/2003: I am almost done revising this first chapter, so I thought I might as well put up this notice. This is revised. It has been OotP-ified, as well as improved. There are several differences. I believe that there are six chapters up already on ff.net. These six will only be revised if they have a note at the time mentioning this. If they do not, then they follow a different storyline, and will be confusing. Thank you for your time.
Hermione was not happy. She was actually quite a passive girl, and rarely found herself upset. She was only truly upset when she felt lonely or depressed or when her friends abandoned her or when she saw injustice or when she received a mark she thought she did not deserve . and so on. However, it was barely a month into the first term of Sixth Year, and already she found herself unhappier than she had ever been in her entire life, and that included the entire stint in Third Year when Harry and Ron wouldn't talk to her, first because of the "Firebolt thing", and then because of the "Pettigrew thing".
It was bad enough that Voldemort was on the loose. Now that everyone except the densest had accepted his return, school had almost become a thing of terror. Students crept around hallways in massive groups, darting glances right and left, as if that would help them if Death Eaters attacked. Slytherins were now hated more viciously than ever, which was a shame, Hermione reflected, as if there were any Slytherins neutral or against the Muggle-killings, there wouldn't be any left once Hogwarts students were finished convicting them of mass-murder.
Half of the teachers were gone, most likely on some special mission or other. Professor Snape, Hagrid, Professor Flitwick, and Professor Vector no longer taught, and Dumbledore was seldom seen. No effort had been made to replace these teachers, and the Daily Prophet (which was clearly just another source of propaganda) reported on rumors galore of dead professors and tortured professors and defected professors, seemingly intent on destroying the public's faith in Hogwarts, and most importantly, Dumbledore.
Professor McGonagall and Sprout briskly bustled throughout the school, keeping order, if somewhat brusquely. Although both were nowhere near the state of panic and near-nervous-breakdown Madam Pomfrey existed in, neither did either maintain a convincing air of serenity. As it was, only the unruffled and late Professor Binns seemed unaware of the events taking place in the world around him, most likely to remain at Hogwarts droning on about Goblin Rebellions until the end of time and beyond.
Even her friends had changed. Harry had grown taller, and was more wiry than skinny. His dark black hair was still as messy as always, but now, the girls in her dorm termed his rumpled hair as "sexy". Ron had grown taller still, now towering above her by almost a full head, and his flaming red hair had darkened into a very charming auburn. He was trailing broken hearts as well.
And then, disaster struck. Two weeks into the year, Harry and Ron had declared their love (or crushes, depending on your point of view) for her simultaneously. Furious at each other, they had decided (who knows why) to have a wizard's duel, and ended up getting into a horrendous amount of trouble. Because she was a prefect, Hermione had been obliged to report their duel, and because she was their friend, she had done it so they wouldn't hurt each other.
They hadn't seen it her way, of course, and had blown up at her. They had been furious, and had expressed their displeasure very vocally. They hadn't even apologized afterwards. Harry and Ron were now friends with each other again, but neither deigned to speak to Hermione. As it was, Hermione was having a very lonely Sixth Year.
But that all changed very soon.
Hermione was once again studiously spending her time in the now more chaotic library when Professor McGonagall approached, shaking her head. "Miss Granger, Professor Dumbledore wishes to speak to you." Her tone said a lot about what she thought of Dumbledore's "wishing to speak with her" and this surprised Hermione. She was also startled by the fact that Dumbledore was actually at Hogwarts for once, not off battling Voldemort in some morbid section of the world, and actually wanted to see her.
Hermione did not express her surprise to the Head of Gryffindor, of course. Instead, she obediently stood up and gathered her things, following Professor McGonagall through a never-before-traveled set of winding staircases and trick hallways. Needless to say, she was a bit startled when what appeared to be a door that opened into nothingness actually opened into an ornate hallway, which promptly revealed itself to be quite normal as soon as McGonagall tapped it with her wand three times. They finally arrived in front of a gargoyle that was the twin of the one Harry had described as the Professor's, but not in the same surroundings.
"Sub rosa," the Professor said in a queer tone that seemed to reverberate through the hallway yet not travel any farther beyond a certain sphere. Hermione supposed that it was part of the password that a Professor at Hogwarts had to say the password and had to order it as a Professor.
The gargoyle swung open, and Hermione followed Professor McGonagall inside. She had the sense not to ask the now-irritable Professor why they were traveling through what was apparently a back door.
They entered a round room which might have been the Headmaster's office but the walls were bare and Hermione herself had never paid the Headmaster a visit in his office. Professor Dumbledore was sitting at an empty desk, however, although the portraits Hermione had heard habited the Headmaster's Room were nowhere to be seen.
"Ah, Miss Granger," Dumbledore said pleasantly. "Please be seated."
Professor McGonagall excused herself from the room almost immediately.
"You wished to speak with me, Professor?" Hermione asked politely.
Professor Dumbledore frowned. "Recently, there have been rifts between this school and the Ministry of Magic."
Hermione nodded slowly. What was he getting at? The "rifts" were common knowledge. Fudge, the fool that he was, had finally accepted Voldemort's return, but still seemed fixed on the belief that Dumbledore wanted to be Minister of Magic.
"So the school has decided to take matters into its own hands," Professor Dumbledore said. "Recently, we have been searching among the students for ones who would be willing to devote all of their time to defeating Lord Voldemort."
"Yes?" Hermione asked.
"Would you like to become a Preliminary Auror?"
"A what?" Hermione choked.
"I assume you have heard of the Order of the Mystics?" Dumbledore asked patiently.
"Yes," Hermione said promptly. "Back in the 17th Century, when a number of witches and wizards began to turn to the dark side, and the Ministry became corrupt, a number of wizards and witches got together and formed the Order of the Mystics, whose purpose was to right wrongs. Several decades after the founding of the Order, it split off into the Order of the Phoenix, the Order of the Unicorn, and later, the Order of Merlin. The Order of the Unicorn died out in the nineteenth century. The Order of Merlin has become an entirely bureaucratic award given to those who donate large amounts of money to the Ministry. The Order of the Phoenix currently fights Y- Voldemort," she recited, word-for-word from the textbook she had read it from.
"The Order of the Unicorn had a very useful technique in which they employed children, and trained the children as Preliminary members, doing Order work in their spare time. This way, by the time they reached their majority, they were prepared for the world out there. I have seen fit to reestablish this practice, but for now, I am only choosing four students who I think capable of handling this responsibility and their schoolwork, as well as four students I think capable of being decoys and not dying as a trial.
"The student Preliminary Aurors will be the ones I will eventually rely on to investigate any occurrences within Hogwarts walls, once they are trained," Professor Dumbledore explained. "I am now asking you if you feel that you can successfully balance schoolwork and this responsibility, if you are willing to become a Preliminary Auror lab rat, of sorts. You do understand that you will be forced to give up your friendship, to violate other people's rights, and to go against your conscience in order to fulfill your missions?" Dumbledore was frank, but his words were kindly.
Hermione hesitated. She really, truly wanted to do something glorious and wonderful and achieve recognition-that was her Gryffindor side speaking. In her heart, she knew that this was an incredibly important decision to make, and she should not be hasty in the making. But something . something within her compelled her to open her mouth and say the word, "Yes," thus sealing her fate for ever.
"Wonderful," Dumbledore said merrily. "Lemon drop?"
~*~
There are three other Preliminaries and four decoys. None of their identities will be revealed to you. If you choose to, you may try to figure them out, but you are advised not to. When encountering danger, you must keep your cool. When caught, you must not speak. Unforgivable curses may be used on you, but you must resist against them. Training will be harsh, but you are expected not to give up. You will be expected to think only for the Order, and saving the world must come before your personal niceties. You will be expected to perform impossible tasks, but you must not fail to try. The world is depending on you, Hermione Granger, and you must not let her down. The words pounded over and over through Hermione's head, part of the mantra she recited every day before Preliminary Auror Training, or PAT. Thankfully, PAT was over, but she could not get the mantra out of her head. It whispered in her dreams and distracted her from her schoolwork.
Unable to fall asleep, Hermione sat up and began to stretch out her worn-out muscles. It's the middle of the night, she scolded herself. If she were smart, she would start on the meditation techniques and lull herself back to sleep. Instead, she clutched her covers with something akin to hesitation. Her stirring upset Crookshanks, who lazily stretched, and strode over to Parvati's bed, settling the Indians girl's soft (and immobile) covers.
Hermione smiled. No matter how much Ron disliked Crookshanks, the girls in her room adored the sweet cat, and fed him all the time. Now that she was distracted from the increasing concerns that came with being a Pre- Auror (and officially "field duty" hadn't even begun yet), she began to reflect on her large orange cat. He was quite intelligent, and she wouldn't be surprised if he were at least part Kneazle. Her worry was if he was an Animagus (or something of the like), which was a silly worry, she knew. Yet there was always that lingering doubt .
Normally, cats hated dogs, yet Crookshanks had befriended Sirius. Not only that, he had helped the Animagus in many ways, and had even gone so far as to attack Scabbers, the fake rat. It was almost as if he could sense or recognize the friendliness and hostility of transformed Animagi. It was, she continually convinced herself, just a part of that suspected Kneazle blood, but yet .
This led to a more serious issue, in Hermione's teenage opinion. If Crookshanks happened to be an Animagus, he was definitely a male; she didn't think that you could change your gender in the Animagus transformation, but she wasn't sure. Hermione made a note to ask Professor McGonagall that next time they met. She had begun shooing Crookshanks out when she changed anyways, although that might have been due to the fact that Crookshanks enjoyed munching bloody mice and getting it all over her clothes.
Now successfully distracted, Hermione went back to sleep.
There are three other Preliminaries and four decoys. None of their identities will be revealed to you.
~*~
You will know the other Pre-Aurors as Black Dragon, Fairy Elf, and Lone Unicorn. You, yourself, will be known as the Flaming Phoenix . Fail us not, Flaming Phoenix, for you time to prove yourself has come.
~*~
Hermione strode over to Madam Hooch. The Quidditch Instructor had just finished teaching a new batch of First-Years how to fly (and had taken off the Undetecting Spells that would allow them to escape the notice of Death Eaters while on Hogwarts grounds).
"Yes?" Madam Hooch asked. Although Hermione had eventually mastered the skill of flying, it had taken a while. Madam Hooch knew that Hermione occasionally practiced flying by flying around the field. Unlike Ron or Harry, flying was not a skill came naturally to her. Instead, it was one that required practice.
"I hear that the position of Quidditch Advisor is open," Hermione said tentatively. The position of Quidditch Advisor was one that the Headmaster had invented recently, and mainly involved moral support, and most importantly, checking the field before a game for sabotage. With the entire VWII going on, it was always better to be safe than sorry.
Madam Hooch looked at Hermione Granger with some appraisal, and nodded. "You will need to contact the new captain-who hasn't been decided yet because of the delay in the beginning of the Quidditch matches due to current conditions. You will have to discuss the extent of your errands with the entire team."
Hermione nodded firmly. Of the four Preliminary Aurors, she was the one assigned to keep a watch on the Quidditch matches which would start soon. The others had their own tasks, of which she was not supposed to know for security reasons. Dumbledore had explained that as time went on, they would partner up in missions, and eventually would not have to keep up the disguise between themselves, but until then, they were required at all times to wear a glamour and don a mask for double security.
This was her first official task, and she would not mess it up.
~*~
Hermione sighed and got on her Nimbus 2000 (which although was by a new an older model, was still quite expensive-but covered for in school expense). She would do this. After all, PAT had required flying training, and it had taken her a while, but she had eventually mastered it.
She hovered slightly on her broom, frowning. This game was soon, so she would have to research a couple of extra tracking charms, surveillance charms, wards, and the like just in case. As well as some emergency spells. Voldemort's need to empower Harry, emasculate Harry, overpower Harry, convert Harry, or whatever had been his purpose before was gone. Instead, he simply wanted Harry dead. A Quidditch match was a perfect opening. Not if she had her way.
As she gently steered her broomstick, she calmed her nerves. She was the first one there, not surprisingly, and she had half-an-hour before Training would start. If she could calm her nerves down, she would be good at this. As she soared around, she began to ease into a more comfortable position, so as t keep her rear end from going numb. She decided against going upside-down, (a trick she had been taught-but one which always seemed to end in her throwing up) and just began flying in and out through the holes where the Quaffle was scored. Soon, she found herself relaxing into the broom, and breathed a sigh of relief. Once she got used to the movement, she was less likely to fall off of it.
After five more minutes of blessed isolation, however, Harry and Ron approached the field, struggling with the equipment.
"Gryffindor signed up for the field," Ron yelled.
"So get off!" Harry called.
Hermione frowned. They definitely were testier and more irritable than before. She dipped her broomstick handle down and halted in front of them still hovering over the ground, with her feet a foot above it.
"I was still in Gryffindor last time I checked," she said frostily. She made a point to stare behind them, not at them. She could not bear it to look in their eyes and see enmity.
Harry and Ron seemed genuinely startled, and would Hermione have looked at them, she would have seen a hint of wistfulness in their faces. "What are you doing here?" Harry asked, wincing as soon as the tactless words left his mouth.
"I'm your new Quidditch Advisor," she said primly, turning away so as not to let them see her trembling lip.
"Oh?" Ron asked, startled.
Hermione did not wait for any more, before flying up to leave. "And you don't need to worry. It's been finalized by Madam Hooch already," she called behind her back.
As soon as everybody arrived, practice began. As Quidditch Advisor, Hermione did not actively participate, but she circled the field several times, setting up wards to prevent being seen by either Death Eaters or spying rival teams, the second a request from Ron (politely worded, at least).
She paused to talk to Ginny occasionally, even nodding to some of the younger Gryffindors, but she pointedly ignored Ron and Harry. If occasionally it seemed that they were not talking to her, it was most likely because they were so involved with their Quidditch. Both were avidly explaining strategy after strategy, trying to employ tactic after tactic. They ruthlessly ordered Chasers to practice complicated passes and moves over and over again, trying to get shots past Ron. Beaters were to practice knocking Bludgers at each other, trying to find new and more innovative ways to block the Bludgers.
Hermione, wither rudimentary knowledge of Quidditch, found it quite fascinating. All too soon, practice was over, she dismantled the wards. She headed back inside, preparing to send Dumbledore an "all-safe" message.
~*~
Hermione hastily finished dismantling the wards from yet another practice, watching as Ravenclaws began to stream onto the field. Ducking behind bleachers and ready to head back inside the school, she realized too late that her bag was still out. Hesitating, she held out her hand, and spoke, "Accio Bag." The bag flew into her hand in a matter of seconds, having zipped among the Ravenclaws, who dodged it without a second thought, most likely assuming that some Gryffindor was Summoning it from inside. After another hesitation, Hermione closed her eyes, and disappeared with a quiet pop.
Padma Patil, who had been looking down from the bleachers above, was unnerved. Wandless magic was impossible, wasn't it? And did not Hogwarts, A History state that it was impossible to Apparate or Disapparate from school grounds?
~*~
The Halloween Ball would take place in two weeks, and that in itself warranted much preparation, especially for the first public meeting of the Preliminary Aurors. Before then, there was a game which she had to attend, as Quidditch Advisor. Against Ravenclaw. She sighed. And she had a huge test in Transfiguration the day after Halloween, and a big quiz in Herbology the day before All Hallow's Eve.
Hermione was frustrated. She would never continue her high scores if she had Quidditch and the Halloween Ball to attend. But it wasn't like she could quit either. She had agreed to take this mission, and she would not refrain from completing it for any reason.
She plopped down on her bed and reached for her handy-dandy bubble wrap. Although people looked at her strangely when she mentioned it, popping bubble wrap was a very useful meditation technique for her. It calmed her down, but as a result, she often went through many sheets of bubble wrap. Luckily, she had managed to come up with a spell that continually "fixed" the popped bubbles, so she had an everlasting sheet of bubble wrap. Very useful when stressed. As her fingers went to work and her mind began to blank out, she smiled blissfully, and her thoughts began to organize themselves. The most important thing to do was to prepare for the game. And then, Herbology, then prepare for the Halloween Ball, and then Transfiguration. Of course, she would study for Herbology and Transfiguration at the same time, and she would probably have to give up some of her lunchtime to go over some of the more complex theorems of Transfiguration with Professor McGonagall, but it was manageable.
~*~
Hermione was walking the perimeter of the field with Morag MacDougal*, Ravenclaw Quidditch Advisor, and trading some useful wards and techniques. Morag was also very studious, and Hermione found that Morag was a pleasant enough companion, if a bit stilted in speech.
By the time she and Morag had finished setting up defenses against a stray blast from the War Outside (for that was what one always referred to it as, never contemplating for a second that it might come inside the walls of Hogwarts-even Death Eater sent their children to Hogwarts because they believed it to be safe!) time had started for the game to begin. Hermione leaned back and wiped some of the perspiration off of her face. She gazed the Quidditch field with some trepidation as the members of Gryffindor team began to file on. Sighing, she got up and walked over to her teammates, briefing them on some minor changes in the wards and what side-effects they would have. For one thing, there was no wind inside a certain perimeter inside the field, something that might have unnerved them if she did not tell them. She also mentioned the few spells that would make the wards glow briefly if they flew outside the boundary of the field, which may or may not help or hinder them. The glow was mainly an advance last-minute warning for debris and the like flying in.
Finally, she stepped back, and watched as the game began.
To be continued .
*I'm too lazy to look up whether Morag is a he or a she, a Ravenclaw, Gryffindor, Hufflepuff, or Slytherin, and I really don't care right now. Anyone who wishes to enlighten me is welcome to do so in an email (stating their source, of course, preferably quoting pages of the American Edition of the book) or a review. Of websites, The Harry Potter Lexicon is the only source I might believe. As of now, Morag is genderless. Like Blaise Zabini.