Everything, apart from minor additions here and there, belongs to she who must be deeply respected, JK Rowling. All thanks to her and my computer.

Chapter 2 – The Puppeteer

It was Defence against the Dark Arts with the Slytherins again, though Hermione couldn't imagine they would be favoured as much as in Potions. It was the lesson before lunch, and everyone was chatting nonchalantly, waiting for the new teacher. After ten minutes, in came Professor Daniels carrying a black leather bag to match the rest of her outfit. She whistled a tune which Hermione identified as Monty Python's Lumberjack song, and smiled to herself, remembering the words of the song, an unbidden picture of Nearly Headless Nick floating into her mind.

"Good morning everyone. My name is Professor Daniels." It had no effect on anyone. That didn't phase her, as she continued with a pause. "I mainly spend my time in the Muggle world as a lecturer and in my personal time I contribute to the wizarding world in various ways. But I am not here to talk about me…I'm here to teach you Defence against the Dark Arts. Now, something that I find quite appalling is that they teach you how to defend yourself against the Dark, but not why it is Dark. They don't teach you about where the line is between Light and Dark. So you're all basically shooting in the dark at the Dark. So this will be the first thing I teach you. Or try to teach you. What is the difference between Dark and Light? Anyone?"

For the first time in her entire school career, Hermione had not been prepared for the question. She couldn't answer. Obviously there was a difference, but she didn't know what it was. It hadn't been in her textbook. She looked around her, not surprised that nobody had their hand up.

Professor Daniels sighed. "Oh dear, I suppose I'll be starting from the beginning. Very well, can anyone tell me what darkness itself is when we speak of it in terms of light and darkness?"

Hermione was ready for that. Her hand sprang up which earned her a collective groan from the class.

"Hermione?" Professor Daniels asked.

"The absence of everything."

"Exactly," Professor Daniels smiled, "five points to Gryffindor. Darkness can also be called an intangible vacuum in this case, because it quite literally is nothing and sucks away at everything else intangible. This is what happens to a Wizard who goes 'to the Dark Side' so to speak. The darkness lodges in him and it sucks away at the light and everything else. Innocent things like emotion, conscience, temper…all the things that traditionally define a human being. His instincts return to their base state…a very carnal state. He sees only strength, and thus he sees only power, and desires it all. So, then, what is light when we speak of it in these terms?"

Hermione's hand shot up again.

"Hermione?"

"The absolute presence." Hermione answered confidently. "Where there is an abundance of the intangible."

"Right again," Professor Daniels laughed, "another five for Gryffindor-"

The Slytherins groaned in unison.

"Don't groan," Professor Daniels censured, "if you had put your hand up and answered you'd have received the points. But you're all too lazy to open a book of your own prerogative. Now, Light is indeed the over-excess of intangible matter travelling at an incredible rate. Hence it is constantly releasing intangible matter into the environment. Now, this is peaking of it in very physical terms, when in fact we must now convert this to a magical concept. So, darkness is the absence of force and craves the presence of it, and light is the constant radiation of magical force because of abundance, or perhaps we can think of it as a nuclear explosion of magical force. But it's not the kind of thing that exists independently. Both light and dark need a particular environment to thrive, that environment being a body. In most people, there is something like an equal amount of light and dark, meaning that the forces are balance; ergo you have a balanced individual. However, there are cases in which the light or dark has a far greater presence, and very rarely one finds an individual with only one…light or dark. I've never seen it.

"What about Voldemort?" Hermione blurted out.

Professor Daniels smiled quickly and replied, "Voldemort is indeed one of those wizards, and I've never had the misfortune of running into him. Hence I've never seen it.

"What about Professor Dumbledore?" Hermione asked curiously, "Is he all good?"

"Simply reasoning indicates that he is not. Albus Dumbledore's main objection to using the great power that is within him stems from his fear that the Darkness within him will take over. In previous dialogues with him he has told me that he is quite aware that, should he be pushed far enough, he will turn to the dark. Therefore we know that he is not all good, but nevertheless a great deal more good than evil."

Most of the class was flabbergasted. They just gaped at Professor Daniels, mouth hanging open in shock, her words flying straight over their heads.

"Is this going to be on our final exam?" Seamus asked shakily, completely confused by the concept.

"Er…dunno, yet," Professor Daniels shrugged, "Haven't written it yet, have I? Look, don't worry; I don't really expect you to understand that, but I was hoping. It's a concept that…well, it's not simple is it? I tell you what, I won't put it on the exam. I don't even know why I started with it. I suppose I think it's important, but it's not really my decision. Alright, let's use those books you paid so much money for. Open to…page eight, Destructive Body Curses."

The class continued rather uneventfully, unless one counted Malfoy's constant insolence. Professor Daniels seemed to tolerate it rather well. She barely gave him a second glance. Hermione looked around at everyone's faces, and it appeared that most people were coping better with the concept of a curse than with the essence of Dark and Light.

Everyone was packing their books away when Professor Daniels looked up from her desk.

"Hermione, detention!" she called sharply.

That caught the attention of the whole class. Hermione never got detention.

"What? Why?" Hermione asked, part confusion, part indignation.

"I'm just kidding, wanted to see your reaction," She said smiling, "please see me after class."

Hermione shook her head as the rest of the class left and made her way to the teacher's desk.

"Sorry for the shock, what can I say? I'm a bit twisted."

"That's alright." Hermione answered quietly. "You wanted to see me?"

"Yes, we have to set a time for your extra classes. I think Tuesday nights is best. Not the first day of the week, but still early enough for you to still be awake. Shall we say eight o' clock in my office?"

"Okay," Hermione agreed.

"Excellent. Now, I'm going to get some lunch before my stomach caves in."

"Professor?" Hermione began.

"Yep-o?"

"Why have you never fought against Voldemort?" she asked timidly.

"I was too scared at first, but now the battle calls for different tactics, of which I am a part of with Professor Dumbledore." Professor Daniels spoke calmly as she slung her bag over her shoulder. "But I'll tell you this, on the day that Voldemort is killed I will be present and he'll regret overlooking me. Let's walk." They began the walk to the Great hall, not at a great speed, but above normal walking pace.

"Does Voldemort know who you are?" Hermione persisted.

"No, thank Merlin, he doesn't. If he did, I'd definitely be dead. I took the necessary precautions, such as staging my abandonment of the wizarding world under my original name and returning under a false name, you know, the whole nine yards."

"But why did you go to all that trouble? What's the point?"

"I'll explain tomorrow night. I'm not keen to talk about it in the open like this."

Hermione wasn't happy, but settled for asking her next line of questions.

"Okay. Will we be covering things like what you started with today in class?"

"Probably not in normal classes," Professor Daniels sighed, "It doesn't seem like your classmates have such a firm grasp on the basic principles of the interaction between the Dark and Light forces, does it? And they'll never need to know it, so I won't teach it. we don't really have time for things you don't need. But if you want we can discuss it as a part of your private tutoring."

Hermione leapt at the chance. It was exactly that kind of thing that interested her most. After all, if you don't know the basics you can't really understand the details. She said as much to Professor Daniels. She laughed quietly and said, "You know you reminded me of myself when you said that."

Hermione stopped dead in her tracks. That was the best compliment she had ever been given, even though it wasn't meant as one. Deborah Daniels had just said she was similar to her in her youth.

"What?" Professor Daniels asked in concern.

"Nothing, nothing," Hermione covered up quickly and caught up. Professor Daniels lifted one eyebrow in curiosity, but continued walking.

The next day time passed very slowly for Hermione. Class was…educating, but she was looking forward to her private tutoring with Professor Daniels. She took notes diligently and behaved very normally to the best of her ability, but inside she could hardly contain her excitement.

The last lesson of the day was Potions. It was a very hot day, so being in the dank but cool dungeons was not as bad as it might have been on another day. But Professor Snape was as vicious as ever. He took ten points from Gryffindor because Neville coughed. Every other male Gryffindor made to stand up to argue but he silenced them with a ferocious glare.

"Miss Granger, please see me when the class is dismissed." Snape demanded impassively.

Oh dear. Never a good sign, Hermione thought.

She stayed in her seat as Ron and Harry left the dungeons.

"Meet you in the common room. Good luck," Harry muttered.

"Yeah, hope he doesn't eat you," Ron added quietly, not sounding the least bit like he was joking.

Hermione sat for a moment, waiting for Professor Snape to say something. At first he simply sat at his desk, writing something down. It seemed an age had passed before he put his quill down and fixed her with a look of what appeared to be sheer hatred. Suddenly it struck Hermione that perhaps everyone was reading his signals wrong because he didn't express them properly. Then she reminded herself of why Gryffindor had just lost ten points.

"Miss Granger, I have been told Professor Dumbledore has arranged for you to start private tutoring with our new Defence against the Dark Arts teacher. Have I been informed correctly?"

"Yes, sir." Hermione replied meekly.

"Tell me, girl, do you have any idea of the capabilities of Professor Daniels?"

"What exactly are you referring to, Professor?" Hermione asked, very innocently. Passive aggression is a wonderful tool.

"Are you aware that Professor Daniels is one of, if not, the brightest witch of our time, above and beyond even Professor Dumbledore in her knowledge of magical theory and far more talented than Madame Pomfrey in her healing skills?" His tone was audibly irritated.

"Yes, sir." Hermione said simply. "I know that Professor Daniels is an internationally respected Neurosurgeon and Neurologist and that she is a Musician, Mathematician, and, if I recall correctly, botanical skills to rival yours on a good day. If that is what you are referring to, then yes, I am aware."

"Then you are aware that you are the only student in the world who will be taught privately by one of the greatest magical and medical minds in the world. You should have the decency to be deeply respectful toward her." His face was hard, and his eyes were fiery. Hermione, however, was not deterred today. She snapped back in a tone to match his.

"I am aware, Professor, that every day that I spend here at Hogwarts I am taught by great authorities in most subjects, not the least of which is you." She was pleased to see him flinch. Throwing him off balance was deeply satisfying "In fact, I'm probably one of the only students at this school who is aware of just how well-respected the teachers here are. So, naturally, I am absolutely delighted at my extra tuition. I don't need enlightening, sir."

At that, Snape's eyes flared.

"Ten points from Gryffindor for your impertinence!" he shouted, "Get out of my sight!"

She picked up her books and stormed out with an intensity to match.

Snape watched her flounce out of the room…well, she hadn't really flounced, but he preferred thinking of her as a temperamental adolescent as opposed to a young woman of unwavering conviction. It used to be her tittering on about anything she could that really peeved him. But now it was how bloody headstrong she was. If she was in, she was in. if she was against you, she was against you. If she had convinced herself of something, there was no swaying her. It was so…'Gryffindor' was the only word for it. He wanted to wring her neck out sometimes.

Hermione had known who Deborah was. Thank Merlin for that. He would've walked straight into the Headmaster's office if she hadn't. Surely the best test for deciding whether she was worthy of Deborah's attention was her previous knowledge of the woman. Damn it, she knew! Not only had he lost a bet, it meant that silly child would be poking her nose into what could possibly be the saviour of the wizarding world.

A knock at the door cracked his reverie. He waved his hand and the door swung open.

"You owe me two galleons my good man, she knows who I am." In came Deborah, already ready to collect her winnings.

"You don't waste time, do you?" He growled while standing up to pull out the two galleons he was keeping in his pocket just in case.

"Tempus fugit, Severus, carpe the diem." She smiled at him, her hand extended in waiting.

He slammed the money down on his desk.

"One of these days I'll prove you wrong about something." He snarled.

Deborah sighed sarcastically in response.

"When will everybody learn that I'm always right? You just won't catch me out."

She shook her head, and then snapped her head up.

"Severus, do you want your money back?" she asked eagerly.

"That depends on the terms and conditions of the return." He replied.

"I'll give you your money back right now if you agree to do one thing for me."

"And what is this thing?" He asked cautiously.

"Well, it wouldn't be any fun if I told you now would it?" she retorted, "come on, just say yes. I promise you'll enjoy it."

"No, keep the money;" he said firmly, "I don't want any part in your sycophantic escapades."

"They're not sycophantic," she said mildly, "they're eccentric. And by the end of it you'll be glad I made you do it."

"That makes me want to do it less, Deborah. Absolutely not." He said, crossing his arms resolutely. "I've learned my lesson, thankyou."

She laughed wickedly.

"I'll bet you've been learning it every day in the shower since then. Alright, I'll make another bet with you." She offered, "First house to get to forty points out of Gryffindor and Slytherin. But, to make it fair, we'll switch it round. If Gryffindor wins, you get your two galleons back and another two of mine. If Slytherin wins, no money and you'll have to do my one little thing. Are you game?" Her hand was out, waiting to be shaken.

Snape eyed her cautiously, wondering if there was any way to avoid her bet. Somewhere in the back of his mind his conscience was nagging at him, telling him he owed it to her. His intelligence, however, told him he didn't want to bet her because he would most likely lose, and her 'little thing' would no doubt be far bigger than she made it out to be. But today it was his conscience that won the battle.

"Alright devil woman,' he muttered, as he warily shook her hand, "I'll play double or nothing with you."

"Fantastic," she exclaimed, eyes shimmering, "shall we proceed to din-dins?"

Hermione walked quickly up to the Gryffindor tower and met the boys who were poring over Harry's model Quidditch set, trying to formulate new tactics. She threw her books down angrily and flung herself into a chair.

"What did he want?" Harry asked, still looking at the model.

"To lecture me about how honoured I should be to be having private lessons with Professor Daniels," she sneered, "Honestly! Isn't it enough that he berates us in his own lessons? Now he wants to tell me how to behave for another teacher! That's just ridiculous."

"Hold on a sec," said Ron, "you're having private lessons with Professor Daniels? What for?"

"Oh," she shrugged, "Professor Dumbledore said it's to keep me occupied, further my studies. It's not for any particular subject, but just for fun, really."

"For fun?" Ron repeated, "Are you off your rocker?"

"Just because I like learning doesn't mean I'm crazy Ron."

"I wonder why it matters to Professor Snape." Harry mused quietly, "He's never cared about the other Professors, especially not Defence against the Dark Arts. Why now?"

"You two don't know who Professor Daniels is, do you?" Hermione sighed.

"Are we supposed to?" Harry said curiously.

"Well, maybe you've heard of her Harry, but I don't expect Ron to know. Professor Daniels normally lives in the Muggle world. She's a world recognised Neurosurgeon."

"That still doesn't explain why Professor Snape cares so much." Harry argued.

Hermione clicked her tongue pensively.

"There's something he knows that we don't." Hermione concluded.

"Yes," agreed Ron, "he knows what'll be on the Potions exam."

"Maybe she's an Auror," Harry suggested, "like an undercover Auror. Maybe she knows how to destroy Voldemort."

Ron jumped slightly in his seat.

"Don't say the name!" he hissed.

"We're certainly missing something." Hermione said, shaking her head resignedly. "I'll ask her tonight in the lesson."

"You're having a lesson tonight?" Harry asked.

"Yes, we arranged it for every Tuesday at eight o' clock. Which reminds me, Harry what did you talk about with Dumbledore?"

"Oh, I'm going to be having private lessons with him." Harry mumbled uncomfortablly.

"What for?" Hermione asked.

"So I'll know how to kill Voldemort."