In Hermione's opinion, the Hat's songs got stupider every year. This year it was just flat out idiotic:
"Roses are red,
Violets are blue.
I'm a sorting hat,
So you!"
At the end of the five second song, everyone cheered, tears of happiness in their eyes,
as they yelled, "Bravo! Bravo!" or "It's just so beautiful!"
Hermione rolled her eyes. Sometimes, magical people could be so stupid. Not as stupid as magical hats, though.
The actual Sorting itself wasn't much better. Just a bunch of nervous looking first years putting on some ugly, old hat. Probably getting lice from it. It didn't help that this year the hat kept commenting on how big their heads were and comparing who had the most/worst dandruff.
Hermione, bored out of her wits, looked over at the Slytherin table. It was practically empty. Most of the Slytherins had joined Voldemort's side. The only people left from her year were Blaise Zabini and Millicent Bulstrode, each of which looking like they didn't want to be there.
The professors' table seemed somehow empty, as well. It was strange, not seeing Dumbledore or Snape there. Instead, there was McGonagall in Dumbledore's old chair and Forma Gravis where Snape had been. The new Transfiguration professor was a man with the build and beard of Father Christmas. Coincidently, his name was Professor Santos Claws.
After the feast (which consisted of KFC and Hostess cupcakes. Sometimes, it seemed like the House Elves just weren't trying anymore), Hermione led the first year Gryffindors up to the Gryffindor towers. There were seven of them, less than there had been any other year Hermione had been at Hogwarts. But these were new times, and everyone was afraid. Hermione thought it was pretty stupid for people to lock themselves away and not have their children educated, but there wasn't really anything she could do about it.
Once Hermione entered the Common Room, she bumped into Ron, who went into a
crying frenzy, and yelled, "Take me back, baby! I can change! Just gimme a chance"
Hermione ran up to her room as quickly as her legs would take her. But if she had
turned around, she would've seen Ginny scowling and Harry starting to cry because the
way Hermione ran reminded him of Sirius. In some, weird, patented, Boy-Who-Lived
way.
The next morning, Hermione sat alone at the Gryffindor table, far away from her friends,
when the owls came flooding in. With large birds flying overhead, Hermione heard many
people screech and put their hands over themselves in protection. But it didn't really
matter because the owls dropped droppings all over them, anyways. Not to mention that
they completely ruined breakfast. (Cheerios and expired orange juice. Stupid, lazy
House Elves).
Hermione reached out for her copy of The Daily Prophet. Two letters fell into her lap.
She opened the first letter, which read:
Yo, Hermione!
Wuzzup, dawg! This is Kelsey, yo yo yo. I like cheese.
Kelsey! Shut up! Jesse, please tell me you didn't write that down. And did you just write down me not telling you to write that down? Uhh!
Cheese! Cheese! Cheese!
Kelsey, shut up!
Cheese! Glorious cheese!
Okay, this is the last time I'm dictating a letter!
C-H-E-E-S-E! It's cheese!
Listen, Jesse, just tell Hermione that we're all doing fine and to write back.
BEHOLD THE POWER OF CHEESE!
Kelsey!
(Very sorry about the letter Hermione. It was Lauren's idea to say it out loud and have
me write it, not mine. Very sorry about Kelsey. Something's wrong with that girl. -Jesse)
Sincerely,
Lauren
P.S.: I like cheese!
Kelsey, for the last time, SHUT UP! XOXO
Hermione smiled, looking down at the letter. It wasn't every day you got a letter like that.
Or ever. Hermione quickly wrote down a reply and handed it to Tommy, the owl.
The other letter was plain (the last one had been done on Batman stationary paper) and read "Granger" on the front of the envelope.
It read:
I honestly don't know why I'm doing this, but I need you to tell somebody that You-
Know-Who is planning an attack on St. Mungo's tonight at midnight. I can't stop it
myself, but I know that the Ministry and Hogwarts at least stands a chance. Once again,
I don't know why I'm doing this, so don't expect any thing else from me.
Hermione reread the letter several times. Then, she took action. She walked up to the professors' table. "Professor McGonagall?"
"Yes, Miss Granger?" McGonagall acknowledged.
"I just got this letter from someone. I don't know who. But they say that there's going to be an attack on St. Mungo's tonight," Hermione said.
McGonagall reached for the letter. She tried a few quick spells on it, but nothing happened. "There's a series of charms on it, so there's no way to find out who it's from or if it's legitimate. But, thank you, Miss Granger. I'll contact the Ministry right away."
Hermione sat down, wondering who the sender of the last letter was.
Okay, long story short, St. Mungo's was attacked and several Ministry people were Avada'd and died. But, overall, the attack wasn't too bad. Well, as far as attacks on hospitals filled with weak, innocent people go, that is.
The next morning, Hermione sat in her Defense Against the Dark Arts classroom, for once unable to pay attention to the lesson.
"This next spell," Professor Gravis began, "seems to be almost harmless. But if said by the wrong person, can be very dangerous. The spell is 'Wantfia Wacha.'" As she said this, she made a small flick with her wand. "Can anyone tell me what this spell is used for?"
Hermione, though not actually paying any attention, still managed to raise her hand, as always. Once called on, she said, "It's a spell that forces a person to say what they want most."
"Exactly," Professor Gravis said. "Now, the only way to avoid this spell making you tell a person what you want is to try and say something similar in sound, but not quite it. Pair up and try it."
Ron and Harry immediately paired up. Hermione heard Harry mumbling, "Mum and
Dad," over and over again as Ron tried the spell. Eventually, it became, "Muhammad"
which was a little bit better, though sort of stupid. Ron, when Harry was saying the spell,
kept mumbling, "Her hiney," which made a few people giggle.
Hermione, parterless, looked around the room. Some people were even in groups of three to avoid being partnered with Hermione. "Here Hermione, we can work together, if you like."
Hermione nodded as Gravis said the spell. She tried her best to change what she had to say. Rather than saying, "To find out who wrote that letter," she managed to say, "To make out with what's better," which made absolutely no sense.
When trying it on Gravis, the dark haired woman whispered one word: "Service." Then,
Gravis smiled. "I've never been good at blocking this spell, but it has gotten a bit better,
I think."
The next day, at lunch time, Hermione received another letter.
Thank you, for what you did yesterday. I know I said that I wouldn't write to you
anymore, but I had to tell you something else. Several others and I have destroyed the
remaining Horcruxes. Don't ask how we found them, but we did. This means that You-
Know-Who is once again mortal, though I doubt he knows it. But, if he does, this means
that his attacks will come more often and will be more deadly. The next one is planned
for tonight after sunset at the Ministry. Tell McGonagall if you like, but you should really
speak with Percy Weasley, today. That idiot knows more than you think.
Hermione immediately got up. But, to do what? The only reasonable thing to do would've been to tell McGonagall. But something made her think of Percy instead. She walked up to the Gryffindor common room to use the fireplace for a little Floo chat.
A few first years were already in the common room. Seven, actually. They were all talking about Quidditch practice with Neville Longbottom and Luna Lovegood. But, most likely their classes wouldn't begin any time soon, seeing as Neville and Luna were too busy making out.
After Hermione had kicked out the reluctant first years, she threw some Floo dust into
the fire and asked for Percy Weasley at the Ministry of Magic.
Immediately, Hermione, from the shoulders up, was transported into Percy's office. The
redhead gave a small, girlish shriek. "Hermione!"
"Percy, I need to talk to you," Hermione said.
"What on earth about? You do realize that I'm working, don't you? And you know I'm not speaking with my family. And..."
"Okay Percy, shut up for a second," Hermione interrupted. "One. I need to talk to you about a letter I just received. Two. Yes, I know you're working, but, frankly, I don't give a care. Three. I'm not exactly speaking with them, either."
"Alright. What letter?" he asked.
Hermione handed Percy the letter. His eyes steadily got wider as he read. " What is it talking about? What does it mean?" Hermione asked.
"Nothing, Hermione. This must be a mistake. I..."
"Cram it, Percy. I know you know something. So what is it? Or would you rather I got the Ministry involved?"
Percy let out a another little shriek, the fear of being sacked filling him. "Alright, alright,
I'll tell you." He looked around suspiciously and then locked his office door. "This,
Hermione." In a flash, Percy had pulled up his sleeve, showing her something on his
shoulder.
The Dark Mark.
Hermione gasped. "Percy! How? When? Why?"
"Shhh!" Percy warned. "I've had it for about three years now. Right before I stopped speaking to my family. I was sure they'd find out. I had to break contact with them."
"But... why, Percy?"
"It was Dumbledore's idea," Percy replied. "He told me that he already had a spy, but
that he was worried he might be losing him, soon. He said that I'd be perfect for it,
because no one would ever suspect." Percy hung his head. "I hate myself for it now," he
mumbled.
"Oh, Percy," Hermione breathed. "We just thought you were being difficult. We didn't know."
"You couldn't have known, Hermione. You weren't supposed to."
"But who sent the letter?"
Percy shook his head. "I don't know. It must be another Death Eater, not to mention a very trusted one. I was never told about the attack."
"What're you going to do now, Percy?"
"I'll have to inform the Ministry, I suppose." He sat down at his desk and put his head in his hands. "Oh, I shouldn't have joined. I should've told Dumbledore to find someone else. I could've become an Auror. At least then I'd be able to be with my family and with..."
"With who?" Hermione asked.
"Nobody."
"Who?"
"It doesn't matter. She found someone else. She's happy, and that's all that matters.
Besides, great girls like her don't fall for guys like me." A look of anger flashed through
his eyes. "They fall for bloody werewolves."
"Do you mean...?"
"Just go, Hermione. I'll be all right. It doesn't matter." He waved her off.
And Hermione left, feeling pangs of sadness, sympathy, and confusion. Oh yeah, lots of that last one.