Chapter Seven: Lavender
Harry was regaling Hermione and Ron with the details of his last lesson with Dumbledore on their way to Herbology a few days after Katie's accident.
Hermione found it difficult to concentrate on what Harry was saying, her mind so preoccupied with the issue of Katie Bell's cursing that she nearly missed out on what Harry was telling them about Dumbledore and Voldemort. Sleep had been difficult after Katie had been cursed and her dreams about the Department of Mysteries starting up again. But this time instead of being chased by Death Eaters who she could never outrun, she saw scenes of her friends being cursed by Death Eaters, with the addition of Katie Bell's floating body in the mix.
Hermione shook her head, and tried harder to focus on what Harry was saying about Voldemort. The way Harry talked about how Dumbledore spoke of Voldemort made her uneasy. She frowned the entire way to Herbology, unable to shake the tension in her shoulders.
Of course Voldemort had always wanted to be special. And it was interesting that Dumbledore had focused on his tendency to collect magical objects. Just what was so special about these objects? What kind of powers did they grant the Dark Lord, and just what was it that Harry would have to do to obtain 'the power the Dark Lord knows not'? It was all very cryptic and frustrating. Hermione appreciated having a thorough understanding of the background for any explanation, but Dumbledore should have at least told Harry what he was trying to explain in the first place.
She also disagreed with Harry and Dumbledore on the point of not feeling sorry for Voldemort, and told Harry as much. She couldn't articulate why, but the idea of making monsters out of men seemed too simple somehow—it felt as if they were missing something, reducing young Tom Riddle to a mere psychopath. All talk of Voldemort stopped when they reached the Greenhouses.
Tightly gripping the Snargaluff pods that they were using for their Herbology lesson, Hermione casually brought up that Slughorn was having a Christmas party, and that he wanted Harry to attend. She was building up to inviting Ron on a date when things went pear shaped.
Ron was attempting to burst the Snargaluff pod when he angrily said, "And this is another party just for Slughorn's favourites, is it?"
"Just for the Slug Club, yes," Hermione said, heart sinking. This was not how she wanted the conversation to go.
The pod flew out from under Ron's fingers and Harry went to retrieve it while Hermione tried to explain that the name "Slug Club" was made up by Slughorn himself.
"'Slug Club'", repeated Ron with a sneer worthy of Malfoy. "It's pathetic. Well, I hope you enjoy your party. Why don't you try getting off with McLaggen, then Slughorn can make you King and Queen Slug—"
"We're allowed to bring guests," Hermione said, suddenly hurt and furious by his words, "and I was going to ask you to come, but if you think it's that stupid then I won't bother!"
"You were going to ask me?" asked Ron, in a completely different voice.
"Yes," said Hermione angrily. "But obviously if you'd rather I got off with McLaggen…"
There was a pause.
"No, I wouldn't," said Ron, in a very quiet voice. Hermione felt her anger ebb away as she took in Ron's nervous expression.
Harry hit the bowl where he was pounding the pod with a trowel so hard that it shattered. Hermione startled, realising his presence. She stared at Harry's hand, which was bleeding profusely from a shard of the shattered bowl. She quickly cast an Episkey at him and his wound closed, though it left a faint scar and there was still blood around the closed wound.
"You should go see Madam Pomfrey," she said to Harry, and then began to studiously look through her copy of the Herbology text.
"Er, right," said Harry. From the corner of her eye she saw him look between her and Ron, and then gather his things and make his excuses to Professor Sprout before he left the greenhouse. She hoped that Harry wouldn't mind or feel left out, but she knew that he would be happy for her if things turned out well, which looked more and more likely to happen.
That week, Hermione was bursting to tell someone that Ron had agreed to go to the Christmas party with her, though she was terrified of people finding out and spreading rumours that could ruin things if she did, so she said nothing to her dorm mates. Lavender liked Ron and she didn't want things to become awkward in the dorm room.
Luna seemed to know anyway. "I'm glad that you're happy," she had said apropos of nothing one day in the library, and went back to reading her copy of the Quibbler.
Hermione wondered what made Luna happy.
"Have you thought of how to support your parents while they are away?" asked Professor Snape as he examined Hermione's latest batch of Essence of Dittany. He did not comment on the potion and put the bottles away in a box for Madam Pomfrey.
"I thought maybe I could hire a solicitor who could funnel their current retirement funds to them in Australia..."
"That plan sounds like it relies on a continuous application of the Confundus or Imperius on too many people. It has too many moving pieces," Snape said, striding back to his desk.
Hermione stared down at her hands in her lap. "I did have another idea…" she began hesitantly. "But it's a bit extreme. And might involve some Dark Magic."
"Yes?" Snape asked impatiently, dipping his quill in red ink to begin his marking.
"I was thinking I could fake their deaths, inherit everything, and give it to them when they arrive in Australia. But I would need fake bodies…"
Snape let out a dark laugh. "You'll find it's surprisingly easy faking dead bodies. The magic involved isn't even very Dark."
"Do you fake many dead bodies, sir?" Hermione asked, unable to help herself.
Snape tensed.
"That is not for you to know," he said, voice clipped. "But it can easily be arranged. Now, you are in a battle with Death Eaters who have more experience and determination to kill than you do. How do you get away?"
Hermione grimaced at the subject change but shifted focus to Snape's question.
"I would...create a diversion," she said.
Snape nodded. "Good. Diversions are very important in battles, especially chaotic ones. The more confused your enemy is, the more likely it is that they are to catch friendly fire, so long as you and your allies are far away from the enemy. Have you thought of what kind of diversion you could create?"
Hermione thought for a moment. "The easiest way would be to move objects between us to block their spells and create an escape route, but I suppose I could conjure something if that isn't possible…"
"What would you conjure?"
"A wall?"
Snape frowned. "Too easily blasted through, and too magically taxing. Your homework for the next week is to think of multiple ways to block hexes while not using walls or a Shield Charm in the face of an enemy with overwhelming firepower, and to think of ways to escape battle when you cannot land a curse on your enemies."
"Yes, sir. Is there anything else?" she asked, thinking longingly of her latest Arithmancy problem set.
"No. You may go."
"Goodnight, sir."
Snape grunted in response and turned back to his marking. He never wished her goodnight back, but this was the first time he acknowledged her farewell in any way.
Darkness clung to the dining room of the Malfoy Manor, seemingly emanating directly from the Dark Lord in a way that Severus had never seen in the Malfoy residence before. Strange, how he had never noticed the warmth in the Manor until it was gone.
A long line of Death Eaters sat at the table dressed in varying textures of black, with Severus amongst them. He wondered when they had become such caricatures of evil, and if he could get his Death Eater membership revoked by wearing blue.
Yaxley was going down a list of people he said he had influence over and was reaching the conclusion of his report. Severus had given his own report on Dumbledore's actions earlier, and had told Voldemort that the headmaster was taking trips away from the school to parlay with vampires and giants. Truthfully, he did not know what Dumbledore did on his trips away, and almost hoped that he was seeking more support in their fight against the Death Eaters. Whatever it was that Dumbledore was doing, he was close-lipped about it, and had told Severus to tell Voldemort anything he wished about his actions.
"The Ministry should fall within the year, and then we can push forward the plans for Mudbloods soon after, my Lord," Yaxley said in conclusion of his report. He did not look smug—Yaxley had too much class and experience with Death Eater envy to gloat, but Severus could detect a deep sense of satisfaction in the man.
"Do you believe you have enough support to push forward with the plans?" Voldemort hissed softly.
"Yes. Our support is there—many at the Ministry are growing afraid of Muggles and seeing them for the filth that they are, and becoming displeased with the Mudblood presence. The news in the Prophet is helping them reinforce these views. Within months of the Ministry toppling, they will be suggesting similar measures to our plans themselves. I guarantee it," Yaxley replied smoothly.
Severus willed his heart to slow as he heard the words. Suddenly, the chill in the Manor seemed to be more than an affection of the Dark Lord and more of an ill omen. He knew what plans they were speaking of—the alienation and control of all Muggle-borns, with nebulous plans for the subjugation of the Muggles after they seized power. It was hard to believe that people at the Ministry would support such measures so soon, but Yaxley was not one to boast. There had to be Dark magic at play.
"Good. I expect you to succeed," Voldemort said with a ghastly smile on his noseless face.
Severus could almost feel his skin crawl with agitation, though he stood stock still in the Order meeting.
Apparently, efforts with the werewolves weren't entirely wasted; there were some in the packs who opposed the Dark Lord because of the actions of Greyback, but none high enough in the hierarchy to give them the numbers they truly needed. Considering most of the werewolves in these packs had turned their backs on wizarding ways, Severus did not think they would be useful in a fight, either as wandless wizards or as mindless killing machines only vicious enough to be brutal once a lunar cycle.
No one was addressing the imminent fall of the Ministry, and Dumbledore had ordered his silence on the subject as there was no possible way for that information to have been gleaned from anything aside from spying. Dumbledore had all but dismissed Severus' concerns about the Ministry, saying that it was a case of Yaxley boasting about his influence and that people in the Ministry could not change that easily—they had to focus on the plan to take down Voldemort.
Dumbledore had also ordered Severus to give less effective information at Order meetings to prepare him for his upcoming role, and Severus reluctantly obeyed because he knew that only with the absolute trust of the Dark Lord would he be able to ask for the concessions that he needed.
If only he had the time to teach lying and Occlumency to all Order members.
The meeting concluded with a short champagne toast, as it was Halloween—the fifteenth anniversary of the fall of the Dark Lord.
Severus was lurking in a dark corner, idly listening in on conversations around him by habit when he was interrupted.
"Severus." It was Kingsley.
"Kingsley." Severus nodded.
"I have not been recruiting for the Order of the Phoenix," Kingsley remarked, large hands delicately holding a flute of champagne. The pale golden liquid sparkled slightly in the candlelight. He did not look around him as they spoke, but Severus was paying attention to the people around them, and no one was listening.
"Then you shouldn't worry about the Hall of Record-Keeping, where things such as paramilitary affiliations are noted," Severus remarked. It was almost going against Dumbledore's orders, as he had heard an associate of Yaxley mention the need to access a person in that office as soon as possible as the Hall kept records of blood status, but if the Order got there first...well, that could be blamed on faulty record-keeping by the Ministry. Nobody needed to know.
Kingsley raised an eyebrow but said nothing.
"To the first fall of Lord Voldemort," Kingsley said, raising his champagne glass. "And to the next. May there not need to be another."
Severus inclined his head and raised his own glass without a toast. He didn't think they had anything worth celebrating for the first fall of the Dark Lord, not at the cost it had taken, but he wouldn't begrudge a toast to a second.
Close to the first Quidditch match of the season, Ron became extremely cold towards Hermione. They had been more cautious around each other after she had asked him to Slughorn's Christmas party, arguing less, and she had revelled in how he seemed more attentive than usual, but then one day he changed. His answers to her questions became short, and he ignored her when she attempted to start conversations. She had no idea what she had done wrong, and when she asked Harry, he had looked at her guiltily and said it wasn't anything that she had done, at least not in recent years.
It was bewildering and upsetting. The only thing preventing her from crying in lavatories between classes was the large amount of head-clearing exercises she was doing in the evenings, and Luna's constant support.
Hermione nearly decided to skip watching the Quidditch match. She didn't know if she could handle cheering for Ron when he was full of nothing but tight-lipped fury and snide remarks, but then she thought of Harry and Ginny and knew it wouldn't be fair to take support away from them just because she was having problems with Ron again.
"How are you both feeling?" Hermione asked tentatively as she joined the breakfast table.
"Fine," said Harry, who was concentrating on handing Ron a glass of pumpkin juice. "There you go, Ron. Drink up."
Hermione stared at Harry in disbelief.
"Don't drink that, Ron!"
The boys looked at her.
"Why not?" said Ron.
"You just put something in that drink," she accused Harry.
Harry played dumb, but Hermione had seen him tip the bottle of Felix Felicis into Ron's juice. Ron ignored her and downed the entire glass. "Stop bossing me around, Hermione," he said.
Blood rushed in her ears at the comment—she had been trying to save him from possibly being expelled, and always had his best intentions at heart but he just didn't understand.
Taking calming breaths in the girl's lavatory was fast becoming a habit, she thought, as she tried to decide whether she wanted to go to the Quidditch game or not. With a sigh, Hermione wrapped her Gryffindor scarf around her and headed to the pitch. If she showed up to the game, Ron might not be pleased to see her, but if she didn't show he would never forgive her.
The effects of Felix Felicis were unbelievable. The weather was perfect, and two of Slytherin's regular players could not make it to the game. Ron made several incredible saves, and it seemed like the Gryffindor team could do no wrong. Did the effects of Felix Felicis extend to the entire team? Hermione wondered. It was almost interesting in an academic way, that magic could affect something so abstract as luck, but it was blatant cheating, and with every goal Ron saved she felt her anger at Ron and Harry rise a little. She wanted Gryffindor to win, but not by cheating.
A spectacular save ended the game when Harry seemingly snatched the Snitch right out of the Slytherin Seeker's hand.
She confronted Harry and Ron after the game, reminding Harry that using Felix Felicis in sporting events was illegal, and was shocked when Harry revealed that he only made them believe that he had spiked Ron's juice. Placebo effect, she thought dumbly, as Ron threw her words back in her face.
"You added Felix Felicis to Ron's juice this morning, that's why he saved everything! See! I can save goals without help, Hermione!"
"I never said you couldn't—Ron, you thought you'd been given it, too!"
But Ron had stormed out of the changing room, and Hermione finally let out the trickle of tears that she had been keeping at bay throughout the entire exchange.
Her tears had barely dried on her face when she returned to the common room, and she blinked stupidly at the sight in front of her.
Ron was kissing Lavender.
Their arms were intertwined, hands all over each other.
A sore lump grew in her throat and the world blurred as she ran away from the common room. She barrelled blindly down the corridor until she found an empty classroom, and crumpled on top of the desk in a daze.
Ron had agreed to go to the Christmas party with her. Why was he kissing Lavender?
Hermione had been certain that he liked her back, and that they were together. It felt as if some agreement between them had been violated, and she didn't know why. She knew she wasn't as friendly or pretty as Lavender, but she was sure that Ron had liked her.
A tiny voice in her head that sounded oddly like Snape asked her if she was underestimating herself, but it was gone as fast as it appeared.
As self-doubt began to darken her mood, Hermione thought of her Occlumency text, which recommended distracting the mind when dealing with overwhelming emotions. The canaries she had conjured in Transfiguration class earlier that week had pleased her at the time, so she conjured a flock. Sending them flying in different directions or having them chase one another was a nice way to get her mind off things.
A heavy scratchy sound echoed through the empty classroom and then Harry stepped through the door.
"Oh, hello, Harry," she said in a brittle voice. "I was just practising."
"Yeah...they're—er—really good…" said Harry.
Hermione couldn't help herself when her mouth decided to talk about the last thing she wanted to talk about.
"Ron seems to be enjoying the celebrations," she said, and winced at how high-pitched her voice sounded.
"Er...does he?" said Harry.
The door behind them burst open. Ron came in, laughing, pulling Lavender by the hand.
He had the audacity to talk as if nothing out of the ordinary had happened at all. "Hi, Harry! Wondered where you'd got to!"
Hermione slid off the desk, keeping her conjured flock of canaries slowly rotating around her head. They gave her a sense of peace, despite the thoughts of how hurtful Ron had acted towards her, seemingly without reason.
"You shouldn't leave Lavender waiting outside," she said quietly. "She'll wonder where you've gone."
Hermione walked carefully to the door, movements stiff and deliberate. Her mind was blank and roiling with emotions at the same time. A half-remembered line about conjuring distractions in battle came to her from her Occlumency lessons.
"Oppugno!" Hermione pointed her wand at Ron. It didn't matter that it wasn't right—watching the little yellow birds peck and claw at his skin was deeply satisfying. She wanted him to hurt.
"Gerremoffme!" Ron yelled.
The canaries did turn out to be an effective offensive diversion, she thought distantly as she wrenched the door open and left the classroom.
Over the next few days, Hermione found that she had gained a sense of bitter calmness about the whole situation. It helped that both Harry and Luna had been there for her when Ron began making mocking imitations of her in class, waving his arms up and down and faking a girlish simper in his seat when the professors had their backs turned.
When she learned that the whole thing started because Ginny had let slip that she had snogged Krum in fourth year Hermione just became more incensed about the ordeal.
It was times like these that she really appreciated Harry, as he seemed determined to be there for her, even though she was making his life difficult by not speaking to Ron; he even went as far as to sit with her at the library when she refused to be in the same room as Ron and Lavender, though the library was not his favourite place. Luna would join her during the daytime when they had the same free periods, and even Neville was friendlier than usual.
Unfortunately, avoiding her dormitory as much as possible was a necessity, as not to see more of Lavender than she had to. Things were decidedly awkward between them. Lavender was not the least bit apologetic, which helped Hermione feel completely justified in speaking as little to her as possible.
It was nice to have her other friends pay closer attention to her though.
She wondered during those days what Snape would teach her next. What could possibly come after the Confundus charm and Obliviation?
Severus was trying to calm himself from the afternoon's fresh disaster, but calm was difficult when he had spent most of the previous evening wandering the halls of the castle instead of sleeping. Some fifth-year student had managed to summon a shield of slime instead of the regular Shield Charm, which had shattered and coated the entire class in the noxious substance. His head was pounding, and he still had marking and Granger training left to do in the day.
There came a soft knock at his door.
"Professor Snape?" It was the Granger girl. She looked around the lab in confusion, noting that there was no Potions brewing setup.
"Miss Granger," Severus began. "Sit."
She complied immediately. She looked as if she had something to say, but Severus was not in the mood to entertain her usual questions.
He thought back to his plan for the evening, but his latest conversation with Dumbledore had left him agitated. Dumbledore had yet again dismissed his concerns regarding the Ministry, saying that the Order was not created to run the wizarding world.
"Did you know that the Death Eaters are making great progress in taking over the Ministry?" he asked conversationally, pausing in his marking, mind still on his last conversation.
"Sir?" Granger asked. "No, though it isn't terribly surprising."
"Have you thought about what would happen to Muggle-borns such as yourself when they do take over?" he asked.
Her lips parted. "I—that is, no, surely someone in the Order would have mentioned it if things are so dire?"
Severus twisted his lips. "Dumbledore does not want it known that he is now almost entirely focused on the final confrontation between Potter and the Dark Lord. The Order does not know. We do not have the numbers or resources to fight the Death Eaters on a larger front, and the simple fact is that right now the Death Eaters are winning. The Order is doing little more than being a smokescreen for Dumbledore's true actions."
"You mean Dumbledore is keeping this fact secret?" Her voice rose to a slightly shrill pitch.
"We must keep this fact a secret," Severus corrected. "There is little we can do without tipping our hand, and even then, a mass evacuation of Muggle-borns will only cause the Death Eaters to strike immediately, which would be to our disadvantage. We simply do not have the resources to rescue everyone."
She looked sick.
"You need to be prepared to go into hiding, within the next ten months."
"Oh, of course, sir. No problem," Granger said faintly. "But...what about my NEWTs?"
Severus' nostrils flared. "I am warning you of the probable fall of the wizarding world and you are worried about exams?"
A stubborn glare flickered across the girl's face briefly before her expression morphed into something resembling shame. "You're right, sir. This is more important than exams. What will I need to prepare?"
"Practice what I have taught you as well as Apparition. Be prepared to leave at a moment's notice, and to take Potter with you."
She looked alarmed. "Couldn't we just have the Order look after us?" she asked.
Severus took a moment to pity the girl. If he had been charged with the task of babysitting the Potter brat he would be looking for an out too.
"If I thought the Order capable of keeping Potter safe from himself, then why would I be wasting my time with you?" Severus asked. He scowled at the slightly pleased look on her face. It was obvious that she had looked past his insult and decided that he had said something complimentary. She was getting used to him; it was...discomfiting.
"Enough. Today we start with the Imperius curse."
Her pleased expression immediately faded.
AN: Hi everyone! Thank you all for the wonderful reviews last week, and look forward to hearing what you think of this week's chapter! Also everything Ron did in this chapter was based on what actually happened in canon, so no bashing here, just straight up giving canon the good ol' side-eye.