They had long passed the point of any rectification when McGonagall gave them her final motivation speech on Wednesday.
"Please don't fool yourselves into believing you could make up any major deficits by now", she poked a hole into quite a few exuberant egos, "If you have not gotten the core idea of a subject, cross it from your revision table. Once or twice every year a student fails their exam because they got a most superficial understanding of a topic and neglected the well-rehearsed subjects in favor of those. There has not been a single exam in which all issues were covered."
"So in the end, it's upon luck whether we pass or fail?", Seamus summarized her statement.
"Our new headmistress certainly does not wish for me to tell you this", McGonagall frowned over her spectacles, "But if you've got a decent understanding of most subjects, you should be fine, yes. And please remember -", a pause now, as if she weighed her words first, "That these ms only reflect on your academic achievements. The majority of my students has had to deal with extracurricular challenges, to some more severe than to others, but you've all had additional opportunities to learn from your teachers that will not be included into a curriculum ever. I'd even dare say, there is no teacher from whom you cannot learn something. Now I trust you to dedicate your time to worthwhile revision, and since you're hardly listening to what I say anymore, you're hereby excused for the period. Except for -", they held their breath simultaneously, "Mr. Finnigan, a word please."
Most of the students quickly emptied their seats and hurried back to the library, living up to their head of houses expectations. Hermione still relived certain Defense lessons with an impostor of Mad-Eye Moody putting them under the Imperius curse, when Ron poked her. "Guess if Lockhardt remembered his teachings, he'd have to acknowledge that competence is not always distributed according to a person's position in the school, wouldn't he? That immobilizing charm of yours was way out of his league."
"Nothing beats that boggart-taming with Lupin", Dean threw in from the row in front of them. "I bet Snape couldn't get -"
"Professor Snape", Hermione talked over them automatically.
" - couldn't get past a vulture or a red handbag without thinking how they'd look on him", Dean ignored her. Her interruption was a recurring phenomenon these days, but not to discipline her fellow students, as Neville had mused in the common room when considering himself unheard by her, but to remind her of the roles they had to stick to.
"I'd rather have Lockhardt than Umbridge", Harry added darkly, earning an approving murmur. "Lockhardt was an idiot, but Umbridge is evil."
"Put plain and simple", Ron agreed. "Now where are we going to spend this additional free time?", he whispered, careful not to be overheard by McGonagall. Their teacher, however, seemed more interested in Seamus muttered words, and was not paying attention.
"In the library", Hermione, Harry and Dean replied in unison.
"Ronald, if you can't take this seriously -", Hermione began, but Harry decided to stir their conversation from the course heading straight onto rocks.
"If you're on track with your rehearsal, just get to that essay from Snape", he recommended, counting on her urge to change the subject.
"I've had a great conversation with Neville yesterday", she snapped back, seeing straight through his maneuver, "He's really helped me a lot."
"Neville helped you -?", Ron echoed, expressing something between jealousy and disbelief, "You're joking."
"Just because you're too arrogant to see his achievements in Herbology, that doesn't mean -"
And despite Harrys attempt to the contrary, their bickering carried them through the castle, all the way as he led them up into the common room, where they sat in thick silence to his left and right side, busying themselves in rehearsal, or in Hermiones case, in pretense.
If she had not met his parents over Christmas in St. Mungo's, she might have kept the impression that Neville was of low intelligence, a little retarded in some ways even, especially when it came to social interactions. Yet at their studies, she saw him much less withdrawn, sometimes funny even, and when it came to his best subject, he was more than able to keep up with her. Harrys words regarding Neville's own terrible fate had rested in the back of her head, and now, looking at the empty parchment, certain pieces fell into place.
Bellatrix, her husband, his brother – she struggled not to think 'her lover' – and the young Crouch had tortured Nevilles parents into madness, with one year old Neville in the house. He must have heard his father shout, his mother scream, and Bellatrix laugh at their agony and terror. Snape held himself responsible for a gruesome mistake in their youth, and probably rightfully so. A horrific, completely plausible idea took shape in her mind about what Snape had tried to tell her about Bellatrix in the library. But with Umbridge, the Squad, perhaps the whole school watching her dealings with their potions master, there was only one way to get to him with innocent pretext.
She would have to fail at an assignment, and be called in for detention for it.
Failing to fulfill a task, she found out, proved much easier than struggling to meet requirements. Yet handing her made-up, fantastic elaborations to Umbridge on Thursday left her feeling empty on a profound level, a feeling that left her only when she thought of having to ask Umbridge for an extension of time. Judging from the chatter among her classmates, she sincerely hoped by Wednesday evening to have reached a 'poor' grading: Her theoretical elaborations on social crises, preceding some rubbish about teenagers forced into marriage by their parents, might accidentally set her apart from the stories her fellow students must have come up with.
" - I discussed a mess for organization at a pure-blood wedding, posing a disgrace for the hosting family -"
"The groom hardly won't face her on the aisle if he boned his best female friend at stag night, will he?" - "He might have doubts if he got hooked up with his best man, if doubting his choice at all..."
"Don't you think he wanted us to focus on potions for drinks at the wedding?"
"If she was hot, I can't imagine that they would wait for their wedding night, so why marry at all afterwards, even if the family wished them to?"
The major part of the night was reserved for Astronomy class. Professor Sinistra answered their questions with patience, sending them to bed at no earlier than two in the morning. Harry and Ron had spent their afternoon procrastinating by replanting the quidditch pitch, where Madam Sprout obviously refused to yield against the devastation of Fiendfyre ("I've regrown this lawn after storms, celebrations of winning the House Cup and that maze last year, no need to give up just yet", she told everyone who would listen, if more to herself than to others), but only Ron seemed recuperated next morning. Judging from the dark shadows beneath his eyes, Harry had spent his few hours in the dormitory tossing and turning in his sheets like Hermione, but she had a distinct feeling that he, like her, lied about the reasons his restlessness. At breakfast in the Great Hall, they seated themselves around Seamus, who looked a lot worse than any of them felt.
"Didn't you – er – plan on breakfast with Judy?", Ron inquired, scratching up some tact in time.
"Y'ah."
"So – you've decided to meet after lessons?"
"No", Seamus replied flatly.
"You've had a fight?", Harry mused.
"No."
"Then - er – what happened? You seemed to get along pretty well with each other."
"I haven't heard from her since we came back from the pitch."
"Ah, she's probably hung up on her feelings to a muggle born", Ron said sympathetically, "Likes you too much and can't get it straight."
"Girls", Harry and Seamus murmered simultaneously.
Hermione felt a strong need to end to stir this conversation from these muddy waters. "Don't worry, Seamus", she resisted the inclination to pat him on the shoulder, that was something Mrs. Weasley might have done, "She'll come around in no time."
"If no Squad member bullied her into abstaining you", Harry growled, undermining her attempt.
"Why would anyone suspect me to be muggle-born? Me mum's a witch, they know that, ever since some nut set out that Basilisk in second year -"
Ginny, sitting several seats next to them and enjoying her cornflakes, turned bright red and returned the bowl to an empty, clean plate, where it vanished instantly.
" - and Judy's dad is a wizard, so we're matching pretty well, I presume -"
"Excuse me", Hermione dropped the fork, having helped herself to toast, "Since when are we measuring affection against blood-status?"
Ron choked from his bacon, then they finished their meal in awkward silence.
They had to sit through a double period of potions before their timetable allowed them to return to the library.
"I must warn you", Snape greeted them as soon as the heavy door had fallen shut, "That I will not tolerate any negligence or sloppiness concerning your assignments, not now, not ever. Conducting research under pressure and within hairsbreadth of a major event will prove your worthiness – or unworthiness", the usual disapproving look toward Harry and the Gryffindors, "to engage in further studies on NEWT level in demanding subjects and most sophisticated magic."
Most Gryffindors did not react to it except for an obviously blank, indifferent expression. Ravenclaws usually had no trouble complying to his standards, and looked almost bored. Hermione cast a glance over the Slytherin faction: Judy was not among them. Squad members had excused themselves. Hufflepuffs, less keen to spend day and night of their sixth and seventh year brooding over potion books, avoided Snape's piercing look. Hermione wished her heart stopped hammering against her chest, before anyone picked up on the the muffled sound.
"We will therefore proceed to several exceptions of the application of Januarius First Law of non-linear viscosity, as laid out by ..."
He had omitted any threat for those who fail, she noticed. She had almost gotten hoisted on her own petard the previous week. I've got this, she told herself repeatedly. It's detention, I'm not going to get expelled for one bad piece of homework. I've got this under control.
Notification arrived no less than twenty-four hours later at lunch.
"Mail for you, Granger." Malfoy had popped up from nowhere at the table once more, handing her a tiny, sealed roll of parchment. Just as he had come from nowhere, he disappeared again.
"Too kind", she replied absend-mindedly. The roll opened at her touch.
Notification of Reprimand
It has been noted that – Miss – Hermione Granger – has failed to meet the requirements in a compulsory task assigned by a teacher. The purpose of this written warning is to bring to your attention new or ongoing deficiencies in your conduct and/or performance.
You are hereby strongly advised to comply with school regulations and improve your performance. To avoid any further transgression you will attend a meeting with the concerned teacher – Professor Snape – tonight at 8 p.m., to discuss adequate means to amend your errors. The school may take further action based on the evaluation of your behavior by the concerned teacher as named above.
A copy of this letter will be kept at your file and be taken into consideration at an overall performance review.
Yours sincerely,
Dolores Jane Umbridge
Hogwarts High Inquisitor
Headmistress
"Now she's hardly taking things too seriously", Ron mumbled, looking over her shoulder.
"What's that supposed to mean, kept at your file?", Harry asked, "She's hardly expecting any of us to bother over some load of parchment?"
"Suppose she's collecting rumors on our bad behavior against the ministry, so they can decline your application for Auror training program", Hermione mused. "Didn't you say, Umbridge refused to accept you being cleared of charges?"
"Yeah, why get hung up on minor concerns like the truth", Harry frowned. "Look, if he's again trying to use you for brewing concoctions, maybe you should mess them up? To get rid of his faith in you?"
"Maybe I should", she replied, trying to ignore the quivering feeling in her stomach. If she considered minor concerns, she did not want him to loose faith in her.
The quivering did not ease throughout the day, and when she found herself completely unable to focus after dinner, she decided to head for the dungeons way before eight p.m. Perhaps, if he had scheduled meetings for all students who failed the assignment, several would be waiting in line, and the sooner she appeared, the sooner she could get back to another round of revising carnivorous fungi, which were bound to come up in exams.
Much to her surprise, only one person had lowered themselves to the last step leading to his office.