Chapter Twenty-Seven

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Hermione took a seat near the back as the students filed into the classroom, each of them eying up the new defence teacher with a mixture of curiosity and trepidation. She glanced across at her friends to see if anybody had realised that their new teacher was not who she seemed to be.

Alecto was fiddling with her wand and Regulus looked bored, but Rabastan met Hermione's gaze with a hard stare and a slight incline of his head. He knew.

As the door closed behind the last Hufflepuff and the murmur of voices quietened, Hermione picked up her quill and wrote a note on a small piece of parchment. She passed it to Severus who was sitting beside her, and he read it. His eyebrows raised, and then he swiftly banished it. It reappeared in front of Arabel, who also read it. In this way, by the time Bellatrix had turned from the blackboard to face the class, all of Hermione's friends were gripping their wands under the table and watching her.

Bellatrix smiled warmly at the class, and her cheeks dimpled. Hermione supposed that she was using polyjuice in the same manner as Barty Crouch had during her fourth year, as the facial features were so different from the regular face of Bellatrix that it would be near impossible to transfigure so distinct a visage. The witch looked like someone's mother, young and homely.

"Class, thank you for taking your seats so promptly," Bellatrix said. Her usual breathy voice was gone and replaced by something warm and friendly. "Please put away your parchment and books - you won't be needing them this session."

There was a murmur of interest around the room, and the shuffling as everybody put away their books and sat up straight.

Bellatrix smiled. "Good. Now we come to another year of defence. You are now seventh years, and there is all manner of things that I must teach you this year, but first and foremost is how to defend yourself against the vilest of magic, the dark arts."

There was a little twinkle in Bellatrix's eye. She's enjoying this, Hermione realised.

"So," Bellatrix purred. "Please stand up and clear all of the desks to the side of the room."

The lesson was already proving to be more interesting than their other lessons this week, and immediately the class stood and began to shove desks to the corners of the classroom. The room was austere and undecorated, except for a heavily stocked bookshelf that ran along one wall, stuffed with books about curses and hexes. And, more worryingly, there was a large first aid kit on Bellatrix's desk.

"What the fuck," Rabastan whispered to Hermione, under the pretence of helping her move her desk. "Did you know about this?"

"I bloody didn't," Hermione hissed back, giving her desk a violent shove.

"Excellent," Bellatrix called. "Now please come back into the middle."

The class assembled, most of them looking excited. Bellatrix leaned against her desk and twirled her wand lovingly.

"All of you will know that Hogwarts is taking part in the International Wizarding Schools Duelling Tournament this year," she said. "And for that, we must have six competitors. In order that nobody has the chance to enhance their skills beforehand, take any potions or obtain any additional training, Professor Dumbledore has asked me to test your capabilities today."

Bellatrix smiled toothily. "And so your chance is today. You will duel, and your performance will be watched by me, and the memory extracted for pensieve viewing by myself and Professor Flitwick, who will make the final selection."

There was a mutter at these words, and some of the Slytherins looked dismayed. Hermione suspected that they had been intending to take performance enhancement potions. On the contrary, the Hufflepuffs were bouncing up and down on the balls of their feet and looked rather keen to give it a go.

"How are you going to test us?" a Hufflepuff asked. "WIll we duel each other?"

If possible, Bellatrix's smile grew even wider. "Oh no," she said, a hint of her old lisp returning. "You will all take turns to duel me."

\\/

"Well I don't think that went so badly," Regulus said, limping along the corridor leaning heavily on Rabastan.

"Speak for yourself," Arabel growled, dabbing pain-reducer ointment onto her recently mended broken wrist. A couple of Hufflepuff's staggered past, heading in the direction of the hospital wing with Amos Diggory supporting them.

"Thanks, Hermione," he called over his shoulder.

"Yeah it was going really badly until you knocked her out," another Hufflepuff groaned.

Hermione, who alone among her friends was unhurt, remained silent. Rage was building inside her, a fury against this woman who dared to hurt her friends and get away with it. She held Severus's hand tightly and glanced up at his nose which had been broken again.

"You can fix it again," he said soothingly, reading her thoughts.

Hermione hissed between her teeth, so angry that she wanted to throw something, barely restraining herself from running back to the classroom and finishing the job on Bellatrix Lestrange while she was unconscious.

"I've got to go," she said suddenly. And without waiting for her friends or pausing to explain, she slipped her hand out of Severus's and hurried back along the corridor towards the Headmasters office.

The corridors were empty, most of the students having already made their way to the Great Hall for lunch, and by the time Hermione reached the gargoyle outside the door to the office, she was panting slightly from her swift walk.

"Password," the gargoyle croaked, and Hermione scowled at it. She immobilised it with a quick freezing curse, and then broke through the wards on the door, and took the stairs at a run.

Hermione banged on the door of the office, ignoring the disapproving looks the carved phoenix was giving her.

"Open up you fucker, I know you're in there."

Unexpectedly, the door swung open and Hermione half fell through, catching herself only a moment before she hit the embroidered rug. She scrambled to her feet only to find herself on the other end of a wand, aimed directly at her. Hermione reacted without conscious thought, and before her attacker could get off any curses, she disarmed and bound the figure.

As the attacker thudded to the carpet, Hermione realised two things. One, her attacker was a woman. And two, she had red hair and was heavily pregnant.

"Oh shit," Hermione said, dropping to her knees beside Molly Weasley, as the woman's eyes moved furiously. Hermione suspected she would have been shouting profanities if it wasn't for the rope between her teeth.

"I'm so sorry," Hermione said, fumbling for her wand and casting the counter-charm.

The ropes fell from Molly Weasley's torso, and she sprang to her feet, surprisingly spry for a woman who must be at least eight months pregnant.

"Who," Molly Weasley said, enunciating every word, "The fuck are you?"

The swear word coming from Molly's mouth took Hermione by surprise. It was like hearing your mother swear.

"I'm Hermione," she said warily, stepping backwards. "Really, I'm sorry. You just caught me by surprise."

"Give me my wand back," Molly demanded.

Hermione looked down and realised she was still holding it. "Oh! I'm so sorry."

She handed the wand back to Molly Weasley, who seemed to relax. In her youth, Molly was astonishingly beautiful, and Hermione judged that she couldn't have been much more than twenty-five years old. Her red hair was long and lustrous and fell to the small of her back, and she was glowing with that inner light that some pregnant women possessed.

"I know who you are," Molly said suddenly, staring at Hermione with as much scrutiny as she had been staring at Molly. "Curse-happy Slytherin with big hair. You're Hermione Black."

Molly glanced down at Hermione's left forearm.

"Yes," Hermione said, resisting the urge to tug her sleeves down further. "That's me. And you're Molly Weasley. Red hair, and pregnant."

Molly narrowed her eyes, and Hermione thought she was about to hex her. But then Molly laughed.

"My fourth and fifth," she said wryly, gesturing to her stomach.

Hermione hadn't been paying much attention to the timeline outside of her immediate plans and didn't have to fake her surprise. "Twins?"

"For my sins," Molly nodded. "More trouble than the rest put together, kicking me all day and night."

Hermione winced. "Yeah, sorry about that hex."

Molly sighed. "I've been through childbirth three times, believe me, that wasn't pain. Got any yourself?"

Hermione gestured weakly at her Hogwarts uniform. Molly shrugged.

"I was in my seventh year when my eldest, little Billy came along."

Hermione gaped at her. She was entirely certain that Molly Weasley had never shared this fact with her children.

"Anyway ignore me going on," Molly continued. "You're looking for Dumbledore?"

Hermione nodded dumbly, still processing that Molly Weasley had gotten pregnant while she was still in school. "Is he here?

"Just popped out to pick something up for me. He might be a while. Do you want me to pass on a message?"

Hermione hesitated. "No, I'll come back later."

Molly scowled and dropped heavily into the plush seat beside the overflowing desk. She waved her wand, and a cup of tea appeared, which she lifted to her lips and drank heavily. A few times Molly seemed to be on the verge of speech, but stopped.

The office was silent except for the ticking of the golden instruments, but Hermione knew that the portraits were listening intently to every word. Finally, Molly took a deep breath.

"You're the spy," she said. It wasn't a question.

Hermione shifted uncomfortably.

"Look, I don't know what you think -"

"I know you've been marked this summer," Molly said sharply, with a tinge of the fire that Hermione remembered. "Half the wizarding world knows about the new recruit that You-Know-Who offered the top spot to before she even left school."

"I'm not -"

"Oh don't bullshit me," Molly said, peering at Hermione. "We know Dumbledore has someone on the inside. It's you, isn't it?"

Hermione turned to the door.

"I have no idea what you think you know or have guessed about me Molly Weasley," she said dangerously. "But I suggest you don't repeat it to anybody."

Hermione opened the door, as Molly said softly, "I'm on your side."

"You don't know what you're talking about," Hermione said angrily, slinging her bag over her shoulder.

"You have to be more careful," Molly called, as Hermione made her way out of the office, letting the door swing shut behind her. "It's dangerous. Dumbledore will ask too much from you. My brothers -"

But the door slammed closed behind Hermione and cut off whatever else Molly had wanted to say.

As Hermione walked slowly down the spiral stairs, an image rose unbidden in her mind. The portrait that Molly had kept on her kitchen wall in the burrow that had been present when Hermione had visited during the summer holidays. Two men, twin redheads with laughing eyes, identical in every way.

Hermione didn't know when Gideon and Fabian had died in this timeline, but when she reached the bottom of the stairs she sank to the stone floor, and buried her face in her hands. She ached with grief, but no tears came, and her face remained tight and dry.

The plan that she had constructed was an elaborate web designed to snare the Dark Lord when he was the least prepared for it. But had she, in her human fallibility, failed to account for everyone? How could she not have saved them? These were Molly's brothers.

Not wanting to be caught by Dumbledore, Hermione eventually dragged herself to her feet and made her way back to her dormitory, where she crawled onto the bed and pulled the long curtains around herself, warding them tightly so nobody could get through. Then she drew her knees up to her chest and cried.

That was how Severus found her hours later, after dinner had finished. He broke through the wards easily and found Hermione with red and swollen eyes, sitting up in bed and making a list of everybody she could remember who had died during the first wizarding war.

"You missed transfiguration -" Severus began, but Hermione interrupted him.

"Cadoc Jones -" she said, as Severus pulled the drapes aside. "Is he still alive? I can't remember when he died. If we get the information to Dumbledore quickly enough then maybe -"

Severus spoke not another word, but climbed into bed and pulled Hermione into his arms. She resisted, but Severus was strong and would not be denied.

"We'll get the information to Dumbledore," he promised, burying his face in her hair. "But you have to stop doing this. It isn't your fault. The world isn't yours to carry."

"-But if I can save people -"

"You already have saved people. You saved me."

"But there are others," Hermione said.

"There will always be others," Severus said, kissing her. "And the best way to save them is to stop this for good. So come on, get up. We've got a meeting in the boys dorm."

Hermione looked at her notebook, with the pitifully small list of names she could remember. She wanted to stay and scrape the edges of her memory until she found every last thread of information.

"Okay," she said instead, Then - "But not the boys dorm. It isn't safe anymore with Bellatrix in the castle. We'll go to the cavern."

\\/

The duelling cavern had laid unused for the summer, and it smelt musty when Hermione broke through the doors and send globes of light floating up into the air.

"Holy shit," Rabastan said, following Severus through the door and turning in a slow circle. "This is where you two kept disappearing to last year?"

"Yep," Hermione said, shooing Alecto through and sealing the door behind them. She wrinkled her nose and cast an air freshening charm.

"This is incredible," Alecto breathed, staring around the huge cavern that appeared to extend even further than it usually did, in the shadowy lights cast by the globes overhead.

"This is where we're going to train for the duelling," Hermione said, conjuring a circle of chairs with a flick of her wand, and settling herself into one. "But first we need to readjust the plan. I wasn't counting on having another Death Eater in the school."

"I don't know why the Dark Lord didn't tell you that she'd be here," Severus said, taking the seat across from Hermione and stretching his long legs out in front of him.

Rabastan growled and paced up and down the duelling cavern. He was shaken to discover that his sister-in-law would be moving into Hogwarts right at the moment that he had turned traitor.

"Do you think she's here to spy on you?" Regulus queried, conjuring a cushion to rest his head on.

"I really don't know," Hermione said. "And that's what's freaking me out. Why wouldn't Voldemort tell me he was sending her? Am I supposed to report to her, or is she supposed to report to me? Was I even supposed to know who she is?"

"The lesson wasn't bad or anything," Severus mused. "She's actually a pretty good teacher. Except that she obviously has no problem injuring her students."

"Urgh," Rabastan groaned, dropping into a chair and holding his head in his hands. Arabel patted him soothingly on the back.

Hermione shrugged. "It doesn't matter," she said. "We adjust, we move on. Nothing has changed. Your job this term is to come here every spare moment you have, and train as hard as you can. There's going to be bloodshed before this is all over, we know that for sure. And I need you all to stay alive."

Hermione hadn't meant to let emotion leak into her voice, but it had nonetheless. She stared around her circle of friends. "You understand that this is our final year, and the last period of time we have away from full-time service. I want none of you taking the mark, not one of you. I know you're all counting on me, and I promise I know how to stop the Dark Lord. But it's complicated, and I'm afraid to tell you in case he rips it out of your minds."

"We're all occulems though aren't we?" Rabastan said, glancing around the circle. "My Father starting teaching me when I was seven."

"Same here," said Regulus, and Arabel nodded.

"This is different," Hermione said quietly. "I've had that man inside my mind twice now, and I've never felt anything like it. I barely, barely managed to keep my cover both times. There's only one human on the planet who ever successfully convinced the Dark Lord for a long period of time."

Hermione turned to stare at Severus, and Regulus let out a low whistle.

"Shit, not bad Sev."

"Cheers," Severus deadpanned.

Hermione stood up and vanished her chair. She removed her cloak and hung it on a hook by the door.

"So this is where we are at - train hard, and keep your secrets close. And trust me. Now - it's time to put into practice the first part of that plan. Everybody up! It's time to see what you're really made of."

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The next few weeks passed without incident, except that Hermione had still not managed to reach Professor Dumbledore and demand that he explain what he was doing with his choice of DADA teacher. By the time the morning of Halloween arrived, all anybody could talk about was the international students who were due to arrive that evening and the unexpected early snowfall that had come down overnight.

"It's like Dumbledore's avoiding me," Hermione complained at breakfast, watching Arabel use the back of her spoon as a mirror, and add layers of darkening charms to her eyelashes.

"Give it a rest Hermione," Regulus suggested. "Nobody's turned up dead yet, and we've got other things to focus on."

"But -"

"Come on, it's Hogsmeade today, it's actually snowed, how about you relax for once?"

"I'll have you know I was put in charge over you," Hermione muttered. "So show some respect."

Severus snorted into his porridge, and Hermione scowled at him. "Enough. Do you want a date to Hogsmeade or not?"

In Hogwarts, everybody was looking forward to the international students arriving so much that when they gathered to queue by the main doors for the traditional Halloween Hogsmeade visit there was a sense of palpable excitement in the air, and under the constant hum and buzz of chatter, even Hermione began to feel some reluctant anticipation.

As they stepped out of the huge oak front doors and onto the steps, everybody caught their breath. The landscape had turned white overnight, as though somebody had upended a bag of icing sugar over the grounds of Hogwarts and beyond. The forbidden forest branches lay heavy with snow, and Hagrid's little hut looked like a fairytale cottage.

They made tracks in the snow as they trooped down to the gate, and Severus slipped a heavily gloved hand into Hermione's.

"You okay?" he asked her, leaning close so his breath tickled her ear.

Hermione sighed and slipped an arm around his waist. It was hard to stay upright through the slippery snow, but she missed being close to Severus. Since term had started they had very rarely managed to spend any time alone together.

"Yes," she said, her breath misting in front of her. "I am. Just stressed. I hate not knowing what she's doing here, it makes me feel like all our plans could be ruined at any minute. I don't feel properly safe."

"I know," Severus said, kissing the side of her head as they headed through the huge iron gates and down the little road towards the village. "I know."

"Oh Merlin that's revolting," Rabastan said, looking across the snow-covered landscape.

Hermione frowned. "It's just snow."

"No, that."

They all turned to look where Rabastan was pointing, and Severus tensed at Hermione's side. Standing at the edge of Hogsmeade village where snow-covered trees thickly dotted the road, a couple was locked in a close embrace. The flash of red hair gave it away, and Hermione caught her breath.

"Lily," Severus said dully.

"And Potter," Regulus sneered. "Has she finally lost her mind?"

Lily was wrapped up in a thick fur-lined coat, but even from this distance, it was possible to see the sparkle in her eyes and the pinkness of her cheeks. She was beautiful. James, bending his head towards her and laughing, seemed as though he couldn't believe his luck. Which, Hermione reminded herself, he probably couldn't.

"How on earth did that happen?" Arabel wondered out loud.

"He probably used a love potion," Severus sneered. Hermione gripped his hand tighter.

"Don't be unkind Severus," she chastised. Severus's lip curled, but then he turned to look at her and seemed to deflate. He lifted a hand a tucked a lock of her curly hair behind one ear.

"I'm sorry. It's just -"

"I know," she said, squeezing his hand tightly. "I know."

The High Street was snow-swept and freezing, and in spite of their warming charms, their teeth were chattering before long. After only a cursory visit to the bookstore and quill emporium, the small group gave up and headed for the Three Broomsticks. Inside was warm and bustling with life, the golden wood that panelled the walls dancing with shadows from the fire, and several Christmas trees dotted between the tables. It seemed that every other Hogwarts student had had the same idea as them, and they ended up having to sit at the bar to find room.

"What can I get you, my dearies?" Madam Rosmerta asked, her cheeks flushed from the heat.

"A round of butterbeer?" Rabastan looked around and nodded. "Butterbeers for us all."

"Coming right up."

Madam Rosmerta began sliding butterbeers across the counter, as Rabastan put a couple of galleons down on the counter. Hermione looked around and paused. At the end of the bar, looking miserable, was Barty Crouch. He was alone, and his long cloak looked too thin for the cold outside. Hermione watched him for only a moment longer before standing up.

"Bathroom," she murmured to the others and headed for the door.

After checking her appearance in the bathroom mirrors, Hermione took a circuitous route around the pub. She passed James and Lily in a quiet corner, leaning close to each other and murmuring, and couldn't her smile. Harry's parents were finally together. A little distance away the remaining three marauders were sitting together and occasionally casting morose glances towards their missing friend.

Hermione came up behind Barty and surprised him by sliding into the seat next to him before he realised. He frowned, and moved to leave but somehow found he couldn't rise from the chair without a yelp of pain.

"What have you done?" he said angrily to Hermione.

"Sticking charm. Your balls to the chair. Sorry about that Barty, I'll take it off if you promise not to run."

Barty scowled at Hermione. Up close his eyes were sunken, and he was paler than usual. His straw coloured hair stood out against his pallor.

"What do you want?" he said.

Hermione took a moment to ponder the question. What did she want?

"I wanted," she said carefully, "to check up on you. The Dark Lord put me in charge of Hogwarts, and that means all of you. I came to see how you were doing."

Barty's eyes widened, and before he had the chance to look away, Hermione slipped easily into his mind. The pleasant hum of chatter from the bar faded momentarily, and she saw a steady stream of thoughts and images. What she saw made her frown.

Barty's mother was very ill. He had spent the whole summer caring for her alongside their house elf. His father seemed to live constantly at the ministry, while every day his mother seemed to slip a little further away. Hermione sensed beneath the buzz of surface thoughts aching loneliness, and a desperate desire to be loved and noticed. To be anything except invisible.

"I'm fine," Barty said sulkily, breaking Hermione's eye contact. "I'm going to join next summer with the rest of them. I don't want to have to see you though. I don't know how you tricked your way into this position, but I don't like it."

Hermione tapped her fingers on the lacquered wooden counter.

"You know, the muggles have incredible medical care," she said idly.

"What?"

Barty couldn't have been more shocked if she had told him Lord Voldemort was good with kids.

Hermione shrugged. "Just as a point of interest. Wizarding medicine is far superior for many things, but when it comes to certain illnesses, say chronic ones...consultation by a muggle doctor, perhaps some time in one of their hospitals...it can really make a difference that St Mungo's can't."

Barty's mouth fell open like a fish. Hermione stood up and nodded at him in a friendly manner.

"I'd better get back to everyone. Oh - sorry, your balls."

Hermione flicked her wand at Barty's crotch and he winced. Then she headed back to the other side of the bar where her friends were laughing uproariously at something Rabastan had said.

"And then -" Rabastan continued, wiping tears of laughter from his own eyes as Hermione hopped back onto her chair. "She said - that's not the kind of cauldron I was looking for."

Regulus snorted and pounded the counter, while Alecto bust into peals of laughter. Under the noise, Severus leaned over to Hermione.

"Everything alright?" he asked.

Hermione nodded thoughtfully. "I think so. Only time will tell."

\\/

Thanks for reading,

Cas