I watched Fantastic Beasts: Secrets of Dumbledore three days ago. I would appreciate it if someone could explain to me what I watched. I think I understood the overarching plot, but I just don't understand why half of the film itself was necessary?

'Wand ornaments? Ridiculous!' Hermione scoffed, as Pansy Parkinson fretted for the seventh time that she didn't have a hilt that matched her outfit.

'They're really important, Hermione.' Daphne corrected beseechingly. The High Priestess' wand remained stubbornly unadorned in all of it's long, slender, inky black glory.

'Just because your wand is long and elegant.' Pansy wailed. 'Mine's so short and… useless!'

'Oh, Pansy!' Daphne cooed, sending a light glare at Hermione for her tactlessness. Hermione rolled her eyes; she'd had a trying couple of weeks and the ball was just another concern on her long, long list.

The Slytherin girl's dorms had been loud and chaotic for hours already. Most of the girls, Hermione included, had had elves to assist them in their preparations for various events since childhood and now were struggling to recreate the same effect without the assistance of the elfin magic.

'Here.' Hermione finally huffed, flicking her hand in the direction of Pansy's jewellery box and whispering a Gaelic charm. With a crackle, the little emeralds in wand ornament that Pansy had been bemoaning changed to shimmering, clearly enchanted crystals. The magical properties were so obvious that nobody would even think to question the shimmer of magic over them and suspect a glamour.

There was a moment of surprised silence as Pansy picked up her wand and fitted the hilt decorations to it. Hermione could see what the other girls had been talking about. The wand, which was ordinarily looked quite thick and plain, suddenly seemed longer and more elegant.

'Here. Let me do your hair.' Pansy abruptly offered, getting up from her vanity and crossing to where Hermione was working at the waist length tangle of her own wild hair. Daphne joined her, and with practiced fingers the two Slytherin girls began weaving it up into an ornate arrangement to match the sketch that Anneken had provided with her dress.

'Why do you even keep it so long?' Pansy asked curiously, as she braided three braids into a thicker braid.

'It's an old fashioned thing.' Daphne answered before Hermione could. 'They used to believe that a witch's hair was a reflection of her magic, back when the covens were around.'

'Old fashioned.' Hermione echoed, and Daphne blushed.

'Well… not old fashioned, I suppose.' The blonde witch stuttered quickly. 'I mean…'

'Traditional?' Hermione suggested with a smile.

'I wish my mum would let me wear my hair long.' Pansy mourned, flicking at her straight black locks.

'I can charm in extensions later, if you want?' Hermione offered. There was a moment of nervous silence, and then…

'I suppose you've already done school.' Pansy shrugged. It had been an unanticipated consequence of the new article (and the many subsequent pieces on the same topic), that Hermione suddenly found people no longer underestimating her magical prowess. It was a change that came with mixed feelings, because she received far more respect from the adults but she had found that being mistaken for someone less experienced could be useful in a pinch.

The next hour passed quickly as the girls laboured to achieve the same standard of beauty that the elves could do in moments. Then, finally, it was time for dresses.

Pansy's had been chosen by her mother but fortunately Daphne, as the perfect pureblood witch, knew more than a few charms to cut out several petticoats and then take the hem back in so that it fell in a smoother and more modern shape. The upside-down-rose ballgown look might have been fashionable in adult balls, but it seemed the younger generation were tending towards Hermione and Anneken's more simple style and this school dance in particular was almost muggle.

Hermione had chosen to go for something very different. There was no chiffon or delicate embroidery, no lace and no jewels. Instead, Anneken had gone to a muggle supplier and created a bold and daring design from shimmery pale opal toned fabric. It was very mature, with angular off-the-shoulder sleeves and a long, narrow skirt with a slit up one leg to allow her to move freely. Daphne's dress was as reserved as her personality, nothing daring but still beautiful in a classic style.

Hermione had to leave earlier than the others in order to meet her date, and she shrugged on a large winter cloak to keep her dress hidden and clean. Daphne charmed the hood to hover over her hair without disturbing it.

Viktor Krum was already waiting for her in the entrance hall, where several other nervous students were already gathered, wearing the red formal Durmstrang robes. Harry had eventually asked Luna Lovegood, a friend of Ginny's from Ravenclaw. Hermione had been surprised to learn that the girl came from a family that actually practiced the old ways still, and then horrified at the casual admission that her grandparents had both fought for Grindelwald in the war. There had been several of those admissions since the article, most carried by post and assuring them that she'd have their support when she freed her betrothed and restarted the war… several of those had also claimed to have fought for Voldemort… and it was a mess she didn't really want to look at too closely. She hated the automatic assumption that anyone who publicly supported the old ways was out for war, or hated muggles and she was almost ready to break into Nurmengard just to take out her frustration on her stubborn and irresponsible wizard.

With a deep breath, she pushed her frustrations behind thick occulumency barriers and instead admired the daring dress that Luna had chosen. It was a vibrant teal, 50's style with a knee length skirt and covered in little printed four-point stars that sparkled in the torchlight. It matched the starry headband in her hair, and somehow the sparkling cascade of stars that spilled from her ears and over her shoulders didn't look as odd as expected. Hermione supposed there was merit to the theory that one could pull off anything with enough confidence.

Theo arrived soon after with Daphne on his arm and Neville hurried down the stairs with barely five minutes to go, having clearly won the conflict over Ginny. The witch in question had eschewed the aged jewellery her mother had sent in favour of charming her own crown of frosted leaves, which matched the russet shirt that Neville wore with perfection only Anneken could attain.

The entrance hall was just beginning to become too warm and crowded when the doors to the hall finally swung open.

It was hard to tell whether the flashing camera or the decorations were brighter. The floor had been charmed to look like polished ice, reflecting the light from the floating candles and refracting it across enchanted falling snow so that the very air seemed to sparkle and flash. Massive, decorated Christmas trees rounded out the corners of the room and provided much needed colour in the field of white. The teacher's table had been replaced by an orchestra and a gaggle of photographers and reporters lined the wall.

Hermione's view was blocked seconds later as the crowd of students swarmed in, chattering loudly. Those who'd never been to a wizarding ball before gawped at the decorations whilst those who had commented disparagingly on the size of the dance floor and the mistletoe in the flower bouquets.

Then Umbridge was there in a suit skirt that could have been mistaken for her everyday wear, if it were not for the longer skirt and the medals that she'd pinned to her chest. Hermione finally shed her large cloak, exposing her dramatic dress for the first time.

'Ooh. Eet ees beautiful.' Fleur Delacour breathed. She too wore silver, and coincidentally Diggory's date had also worn a cool grey Asian inspired dress. They matched rather well, although Hermione wasn't sure whether even her dramatic dress could match the brightness of Luna Lovegood's starry earrings.

'In pairs, champions.' Umbridge instructed, placing Diggory and his date at the front of the line and leering at Hermione as though she should be offended that she was at the back.

The orchestra struck up a simple tune - one that was easy to dance with little chance of accidentally embarrassing anyone. It was one that she'd learned years ago and if she closed her eyes, she could almost imagine that she was somewhere else; dancing the quadrille in an another castle, another boy leading her through the steps, weaving between motes of dust and wooden mannequins. When life had been simple and her greatest concerns were bruised shins and the state of her calligraphy.

She was brought sharply back to the presence by the heat of Krum's hand through the thin fabric of her dress as he touched her back to dip her, the last of the sweet memory fading along with the last notes of the music and the applause of the crowd. She curtsied deeply to Krum, occluding the heavy sadness that came with the memory away before it could manifest in dampness in her eyes.

The rest of the school joined them for the second dance and Hermione was glad that it became impossible to forget the time and place thereafter. The purebloods, who'd learned to dance as children, were far outnumbered by the modern and muggleborn families, and it quickly became all consuming to avoid collisions, trampled toes and torn hems as people around her stumbled through the steps.

She retreated as soon as was polite, Krum acting as a faithful familial escort in lieu of Gellert's presence and scaring off anyone who might think to ask her to dance. She thought the show might be as much for his sake as hers; his little gaggle of fans were hovering like carrion birds in the corner of the room. Neville joined them a moment later with Ginny, never one for dancing despite not being the worst.

'I wonder how much they had to pay the Wierd Sisters to get them to play these songs?' Ginny laughed. They'd obviously been via the refreshment table, and Ginny quickly shared her spoils with Hermione. They entertained themselves with people watching; Umbridge and Percy Weasley, neither looking particularly happy but both moving through the steps with the kind of rigid formality and awkwardness that betrayed poor teaching in later life. Luna was somehow managing to glide between the other pairs with Harry, not following a single step but somehow never getting in anyone's way or losing time with the Boy-Who-Lived. Theo and Daphne, both purebloods to their core, danced with grace and poise opposite Crabbe and Millicent, whose teacher must be some kind of miracle worker, because somehow the thick boy was also following the correct steps.

More entertaining were the two Weasley twins, who didn't seem to care at all about any kind of formality and were standing in the middle of the floor, twirling their dates and flailing around like muggles at a rave. Only Hagrid and Madam Maxime dared to venture within range of them.

'Let's go outside.' Neville suggested, tugging at the stiff collar of his dress robes. They all agreed quickly when the Weird Sisters shrugged off their formal robes and started playing a screeching, modern tune complete with some kind of enchanted guitar and strobing candles. Even if the music had been to her tastes, Hermione would have found that style of dancing difficult in her formal gown and the lights were uncomfortably similar to those of a battle.

It was much calmer outside; the lawn had been temporarily transformed into a maze-like box garden, complete with ornamental fountains and clusters of fairies to light the shadowed benches. Krum shrugged off his fur half cloak and offered it to Hermione, who took it gratefully. Warming charms just didn't stick as well when applied to fabric, compared to when it was woven in and her bold choice of dress was certainly not made for the reality of Scottish winter.

Several students had already made it outside and were seated on carved stone benches, shyly holding hands, laughing with the careless ease or, as Hermione's group discovered, using the secluded clearings to engage in the kind of public affection that would have been considered scandalous even in the muggle world.

Embarrassed, they quickly retreated and claimed their own courtyard. Hermione banished the water from a fountain of dancing satyrs and conjured her signature blue flames. It gave the fountain a demonic look, but more importantly it bathed the clearing in warmth.

'It's a shame we couldn't do Yule.' Neville mourned, once Krum had cast a privacy charm that Hermione didn't know and could only assume came from living a life of fame. A moment later the giggling girls that usually followed him around streamed past the entrance to their little garden, failing to notice the flames or the conspicuous group that surrounded them.

'Perhaps I could join you vor Yule next year.' Viktor dutifully offered Hermione a seat, then shrugged and flopped down when she declined. 'I haff alvays vanted to celebrate it.'

'Of course.' Hermione acquiesced, preoccupied by watching Snape striding past in his distinctive billowing robes. It appeared that the only concession he'd made for the ball was the polished silver buttons to replace the usual black ones across his chest.

The teacher looked to be in a foul mood, but Umbridge seemed even fouler when she stomped past a moment later with Percy Weasley at her heels.

'I'm sure you'll have Mr Crouch's full support.' Percy Weasley assured the Undersecretary to the Minister.

'His support would be more valuable if he were here in person.' Umbridge snapped, stomping to a halt just out of Hermione's sight, but certainly not out of hearing range. 'When will he be back?'

'Mr Crouch has been under a lot of stress. It's a miracle he hasn't fallen ill sooner. But I assure you that he's always held a strong stance on dark magic and he stands firmly behind the Chief of MISC in her attempts to separate the two Grindelwalds.' Percy Weasley sounded slightly affronted.

'Separate?' Umbridge spat, 'It's naive of you to think that separating them will prevent the anarchy that Miss Grindelwald wants to bring to our society.'

'Now really-'

'I've been saying it since the beginning; Hermione Grindelwald is a far greater threat than her betrothed ever was. She uses dangerous and unregulated magic regularly and encourages her otherwise innocent peers to do the same, in direct contravention to the ministry's approved curriculum.'

'Of course, Madam Umbridge.' Percy Weasley agreed hastily. 'Harry Potter being the prime example, of course, along with my sister, Ginevra.'

'Yes, yes, exactly! She must be stopped. Not to mention her dealings with half breeds and goblins. The ministry has spent decades carefully cultivating relations and Grindelwald threatens the stability of our economy and our position with the goblins.'

'But you have introduced legislation..?'

'Of course.' Umbridge snapped. 'Now that the Minister has seen her true colours, after the debacle with the tournament… but I need more… her allies in the wizengamot are proving to be tricky… unless…'

'What?' Percy Weasley sounded sickeningly eager.

'Perhaps…' Umbridge's tone had changed completely, from one of an irritated superior to a wheedling peer. 'Your mother holds a wizengamot seat, does she not?'

'Well yes, of course.' Hermione could virtually hear the way the ex-prefect's chest puffed up. 'The Prewett seat, although she doesn't use it.'

'Perhaps… well, perhaps you could suggest that she let you sit in her stead. You seem like an educated young man, capable of making the kinds of decisions that would support the Ministry and the Minister.'

'Well, I don't know.' Percy sounded rather flustered. 'I mean, I have a job, and Mr Couch needs me. Particularly now that he's sick.'

'Oh, don't be silly. Barty can manage without you. You'd be far more valuable to the Ministry if you used your seat to support our new legislation. I'm sure another role for you could be arranged… perhaps one in the Minister's office?'

There was a couple of moments of silence where Hermione tried to edge up as close to the privacy wards as she could without accidentally going through them.

'I suppose… if that's what you think is best, Madam Undersecretary? I'd have to send Mr Crouch an owl…' Weasley finally acquiesced, and Hermione thought that the reluctance in his voice didn't quite mask his excitement. He was ambitious enough to be a Slytherin, if he hadn't been so entirely lacking in subtlety and cunning.

'Yes, yes. Do that. Ah, Severus!' The darkly dressed professor reappeared from deeper within the garden, wand drawn and two embarrassed looking fifth years scuttling before him.

'Another two for your detentions, Delores.' Snape drawled, his lip curling bitterly. In her quest to punish Hermione, Umbridge had quickly followed up educational decree twenty-eight with another that gave her direct control over all disciplinary action at Hogwarts. The teachers had responded with a war of malicious compliance, sending for Umbridge at every minor infraction. The high inquisitor had yet to successfully catch Hermione and her friends doing anything that could be construed as either illegal or against the rules. It wasn't like any of them were in particular need of the practical sessions in the transfiguration classroom, particularly considering the adults in their lives had about as much regard for enforcing the trace as Hermione had for following it; they could practice to their heart's content over summer.

'Have you seen Grindelwald, Severus?' Umbridge demanded, ignoring the potion master's statement.

'I assume you mean the younger?'

'She's been missing from the ball for half an hour, along with one of the champions.'

'Dare I say that this gathering of concupiscent teens was perhaps unappealing to a witch of the nineteenth century German aristocracy, I imagine Miss Gorlois has retired early. I doubt she would have left any of her little posse in the hall if she were up to anything nefarious.'

Umbridge huffed, but seemed disinclined to concede the truth of Snape's statement because she stomped off deeper into the gardens with a small sniff of disdain, Percy Weasley trailing at her heels and asking if they ought to be making sure no other students were being indecent in the shrubbery.

Hermione almost made her way back to the group, but another figure appeared before she could, hauling Snape into the same shadows that Hermione stood concealed within, missing the wards by inches as he bared a left arm. Pale skin caught the eerie fairy lights, making the grey smudge stand out like a smear of pale ash.

'What are you going to do?' Karkaroff hissed, desperation clear in his voice.

'I will remain at Hogwarts.' Snape drawled, tilting his head back to look down his nose at the Durmstrang headmaster. Snape's sleeves remained tightly fastened, but Hermione couldn't help her eyes flickering to where the dark mark was concealed beneath them before her eyes returned to the exposed mark on Karkaroff's forearm. She'd seen Lord Nott's mark briefly, but it had been little more than a faint scar then and the shape had been indiscernible and although he'd informed her that it was darkening again, she hadn't actually seen it since. It was more artistic than the rendition of the mark that had been cast into the sky, but without the sparkling stars it was far more grotesque.

'But when the Dark Lord returns…'

'Then flee… I however, am remaining at Hogwarts, as I was ordered to.'

'Perhaps… you've taught her… would the Grindelwald girl..?'

'I very much doubt she had a use for a cowards and a traitor. Besides, Miss Gorlois is a child, and one that I am quickly tiring of discussing.'

'What about the Witch King? They say he fought for her?'

'Miss Gorlois gathers around her those in whom she sees use. I reiterate; I doubt that she has use for a coward and a traitor.'

'She had use for the half breeds-'

'Mr Potter, if you wished to lurk inconspicuously, I would suggest leaving Miss Lovegood behind in the future.' Snape looked up sharply and Karkaroff yanked down his sleeve, glared at Snape then shouldered roughly past the Boy-Who-Lived.

'Oh, we weren't lurking, Professor.' Luna's dreamy reply drifted around the hedgerow. 'I was just admiring this chillywagger hole. It's got a very unique bore pattern.'

Snape's lip curled, but he swept away without taking points or making any further comment. Hermione flicked her wand to dismantle the privacy wards, allowing the two into their little garden, then rebuilt them with a complex twirl and an incantation.

'We need to talk later.' She announced gravely, meeting Harry's eyes. He nodded, sending a questioning glance at Krum and Luna. She shook her head in the negative; the two were allies, but not yet a part of her court.

The remainder of the evening seemed to pass particularly slowly now that Hermione had so much more on her mind. Someone summoned a book of rune riddles and they spent several pleasurable hours puzzling over obscure runic challenges in languages that even Hermione found obscure. It was well past ten when Hermione finally managed to pull Ginny aside and inform her that Percy was planning to try to take up the Prewett seat from her mother.

'She won't give it to me.' Ginny informed her succinctly. 'Mum and Dad support Dumbledore, but they'd go for the ministry over you any time.'

Hermione pursed her lips.

'Perhaps,' Theo suggested, returning from the bathroom just in time to overhear their quite conversation, 'we don't really need to make sure we win the seat right now, just that Percy Weasley doesn't get it.'

'Right!' Ginny agreed, eyes lighting up. 'I bet if I told her what you'd overheard; about how Umbridge wants Percy to use the seat to help her get more control over Hogwarts. Mum would never give him the seat if she thought he'd use it against Dumbledore.'

'I knew there was some Slytherin in you.' Theo's eyes gleamed and Ginny grinned.

'I'll write the owl.' The younger witch hurried away, trusting Hermione to explain to Neville the situation. Glad that for once, a situation had been relatively easy to resolve, Hermione rejoined her friends for the rest of the evening's riddles.