Second year Slytherins had their mornings off on Wednesdays to recover and sleep in from Astronomy, but Hermione and her friends got up at the normal time, the four of them the only Slytherins of their year awake and at breakfast.

"You can tell something's happening," Tracey remarked. "There's a feeling in the air, like something's about to go down."

"McGonagall would have definitely told the other teachers that the monster was caught," Hermione said. "Maybe their tension regarding the Heir is in the air?"

Blaise smirked. "Maybe."

Harry was looking over at the Slytherin table conspicuously, trying to catch Hermione's eye, and Blaise rolled his eyes.

"He's going to give the game away, doing that," Blaise said disgustedly. "Why can't he just come over here like a normal person?"

"Anyone who knows anything will think he just wants to talk about what happened last night," Hermione said, dismissive. "And besides, the Gryffindors never come over here, you know."

She went over to Harry instead with her muffin, hungry, and Harry looked at her furtively.

"Are we still on?" he asked. "At the change of classes, right before lunch?"

"Right. I'll meet you outside of Transfigurations," she said. Her gaze was serious. "You're up for this? You know the plan?"

"Blaise has run over it with me a hundred times," Harry assured her. His eyes were hard. "I'm your friend, Hermione. I'm happy to help you with this. I know you'd do the same for me."

Hermione severely doubted any revenge plans Harry ever came up with would have anywhere near the same level of severity and consequence as her own did, but she was sure she'd help him with anything anyway.

After breakfast, Hermione took her friends on a side trip as they returned to the dungeons.

"This room," Hermione said, showing them an abandoned classroom. "It has to be in this room."

"Does it really?" Blaise complained. "How the hell am I supposed to make an escape in a stone room like this?"

"Hide under the cloak and wait until there's an opening to get through the door," Hermione said, uncaring. "It has to be in this room." She looked over the cold stone, remembering the feeling of it pressed against her cheek. "It has more meaning, here."

"I don't care where it is, so long as I have enough warning," Tracey said airily. "How much time will we have?"

"Not much," Hermione admitted. "At least she has Potions first thing, so you won't have far to take her if you have to. I don't know how you're going to isolate her, but I'm sure you can figure something out."

"We'll take care of it," Millie assured her. "And the both of us can drag her at least this far."

"Let me get you what you'll need for your set-up, then," Hermione said, glancing around the room once more. "And Blaise his parts. And let's make sure to synchronize our watches now. We need to make sure this goes off perfectly."

"We've got this, Hermione," Blaise assured her. His eyes glittered, fire and malice burning within. "I've been waiting for the chance to do this for you for a long time."

"Likewise," Tracey piped up. "This isn't exactly the 'baking sweets' I predicted I'd first help with, but this has a lot of meaning, y'know?" She grinned, her eyes glinting. "I'm happy to help."

Hermione turned to Millie, whose arms were folded, one eyebrow raised.

"Do you think I'd let you lunatics leave me out of this?" she snorted. "I'll be the one to make sure it doesn't all go to pot."

Hermione laughed, and, touched, she suddenly pulled her friends into a group hug.

"You're all the best," she said, her voice thick with emotion. "You know that, right? I couldn't ask for better friends."

"You could ask, but you wouldn't find them," Blaise teased.

"Leave off, Hermione," Millie grumbled, her face red. "Evil geniuses do not hug each other right before the culmination of their grand plans."

Hermione let her friends go, slightly embarrassed but still smiling.

"It's not evil," Hermione objected. "It's… it's justice."

"Part of it is at least Dark, Hermione," Millie told her. "Just because you're not doing the Dark part doesn't mean it's not there."

"Don't get into that, Millie," Tracey warned her. "I volunteered. It was hard enough to convince Hermione to let me the first time; I don't want her changing her mind about it now."

"Darker things were done to Hermione when Hermione was a first year," Blaise said, checking both ways as they exited the room. "So forgive me if I don't exactly care how Dark any of this is."

"I don't care either," Millie stressed. "But let's not delude ourselves about what we're doing here, alright?"

They bickered quietly as they made their way back to the common room, but none of it had any real meaning. They were all nervous, Hermione knew, and it was a way to get all the nervous, jittery energy out. Hermione went and got the supplies from her room, each wrapped up in a stretch of duplicated cloth from a dark green sheet.

"Blood, books, cloak, vial, and necklace," she told them quietly. "Make sure the vial is open and on the floor near the necklace. I put in a bookmark into one of the books that you could have it open to. It's a blood magic protection spell against enemies; it might look good to plant the suggestion."

"Fair enough," Tracey said, taking their bundle and tucking it away. "If we've got enough time, of course."

Hermione turned to Blaise, giving him his bundle.

"Potion, robes, shoes, and hair," she told him seriously. "And don't hold back when you're running, okay?"

"I won't," Blaise assured her, taking his own bundle. "I know how she acts. I've got this, Hermione."

Hermione took a deep breath, steadying herself, and looked over the determined faces of her friends.

"Well, if we're all prepared," she said, giving them a wavering smile, "let's take our places, shall we?"

The plan was thrown off by the presence of the Ministry of Magic. Hermione noticed the Aurors halfway through the morning as she wandered around with Blaise.

"This isn't going to work," she fretted. "Blaise, what are we—"

"Hermione, this is better," Blaise told her firmly. "The Ministry is full of incompetent bureaucrats. It's better that they'll take the Heir of Slytherin away before McGonagall or Dumbledore can fully examine her."

Hermione worried at her lip.

"Yes, but still," she worried. "What if it all—"

"We are going outside, Hermione," Blaise told her firmly. "You only get all panicky like this if you need to sit outside."

Hermione felt a little like a child in time-out as Blaise led her outside and sat next to her on the grass, but as the earth elemental unfurled inside of her, reaching out from within her into the ground, the swirling energy inside of her slowly calmed, and Hermione finally felt able to breathe.

Blaise looked mildly amused as he watched her visibly calm down, and she gave him an embarrassed smile.

"It'll settle down as soon as we make the coven bond," she told him. "Just… until then, you know…"

"Far be it from me to speculate as to why the only New Blood in centuries has an unusual flow of magic," Blaise teased, his eyes sparkling. "I'm just glad I can help you when you need."

He gave her a playful smirk, and to her horror, Hermione felt her cheeks heat.

She quickly turned her face back to the ground, pretending to examine the grass as her mind launched itself in fury at her body and pitched a fit. She had never reacted to Blaise's flirting by blushing, not since early in her first year. Blaise flirted with everybody, and as soon as Hermione had realized, it'd become just another part of Blaise she'd accepted.

If part of her was going to be stupid about this now that they'd kissed and start blushing and making her feel nervous whenever he was around, Hermione was going to revolt.

Not that she had any idea how she could revolt against herself, really. But it was the thought that counted.

Hermione sighed, pushing the matter from her thoughts, and refocused her mind on cycling her magic through the ground, dwelling on the upcoming plan.

After several long minutes of sitting in the sun and chilly air, she felt calm enough to feel like herself again, and her thoughts had slowed and sharpened.

"All right," Hermione said, standing and gathering herself up. She held her chin up, her eyes determined. "Let's do this."

"That's the Hermione I was looking for," Blaise said with satisfaction. "Our fearless leader, leading us on into battle."

"It's not exactly a battle, though, is it, if the other side doesn't know we're coming." Hermione's smile was nasty. "Hopefully, this will be more of a trap and a slaughter."

Blaise's only answer was a dark, satisfied laugh.

Hermione was talking with Harry after he got out of Transfiguration. They were walking together amongst the other students, all of them headed to lunch, a couple teachers vaguely leading the group to the Great Hall. Hermione was pleased to see that the teachers seemed satisfied if the students were just going off in pairs – it was clear none of them had liked escorting everyone around, and already their safety standards were loosening with the knowledge the monster had been defeated.

Suddenly, Hermione pulled Harry aside, pointing to an older girl creeping against the wall.

"Harry?" she said, her voice just pitched to carry. "Is that Rookwood? What is she doing?"

Harry frowned.

"…she's speaking Parseltongue," he said, his eyes growing wide in astonishment. "Hermione, she's speaking Parseltongue."

Withdrawing their wands, they both advanced toward the older girl on the other side of the hall, who had stopped in the hallway near Moaning Myrtle's bathroom. Rhamnaceae Rookwood looked up at them sharply as they approached, Hermione utterly cognizant of the other students around.

"What do you want?" she spat. "Get away from me."

"We heard you," Hermione accused. "You were hissing at the wall."

"I was not," Rhamnaceae immediately denied. "You're so full of it, Granger."

In response, Harry hissed at her.

"If you are a Parseltongue-speaker, you must respond in kind," he hissed.

Immediately, Rhamnaceae hissed back, her face twisting into hatred. "You don't need to actually say anything like that, you know."

"It adds veracity," Harry argued back, his face angry as he hissed and spat. "What if someone else here speaks Parseltongue?"

"You're making it harder to not break character and laugh, you berk," Rookwood spat, her tongue hissing and flicking around the sounds. "I think that's enough, though. Ready? Set? Go!"

With an evil-sounding shriek, Rhamnaceae attempted to blast both Harry and Hermione with a cutting charm, making them both shout and dive out of the way. Nearby students screamed as Rhamnaceae started running.

Hermione had rolled after her dive and was already on her feet, her wand out. "We have to stop her, Harry!"

"She's trying to call the monster!" Harry cried out, quickly getting to his feet. "Let's go!"

Hermione and Harry chased after Rookwood as she ran through the halls yelling, Rookwood shooting spells over her back at them as she sprinted away. Harry was hissing vicious things in Parseltongue at her while Hermione was firing spells back, Rhamnaceae hissing back on occasion, her face twisted in hatred. Students they ran by were screaming and cowering from the spell fight, and a loud "Miss Rookwood!" had Hermione certain that they'd passed at least one teacher in their furious sprint through the castle.

Hermione managed a glance at her watch as they ran, checking the time, before she took careful aim, letting off a spell that crashed into Rhamnaceae with a clash of red sparks.

"Nice shot, Hermione!" Harry cried, but already Rookwood was up and running, darting down the stairs into the dungeons.

"Don't let her escape!" Hermione cried out, chasing after, Harry hot on her heels.

Hermione dimly realized they'd somehow gathered a crowd; she could hear the thunder of other feet pounding down the stairs around her. She pulled on her air elemental to give her a burst of speed; she and Harry needed to get there first.

As they rounded the corner, Hermione was relieved to see Tracey in place outside the classroom door, Millie at her side.

"Hermione!" Tracey said. "What's going on?"

"Where did Rookwood go?" Hermione demanded. "Tracey, where?"

"She—She went in there," Tracey said, gesturing to the closed classroom door. "But what—"

Hermione and Harry crashed through the door to see Rookwood on the floor, looking dazed but angry. There were books around her laid open, a flask of something that looked ominously like blood behind her, a vial, and a blackish metal pendant on the floor, surrounded by a circle of blood.

"Rookwood!" Hermione said.

Rhamnaceae's eyes sharpened upon seeing Hermione with her wand in her hand aimed at her, and she grabbed her own wand, immediately firing off a cutting curse. Hermione's own spell only just got out as the cutting curse came toward her, and as she moved to dodge the cutting curse, she just caught the tiny vial near the blood circle toppling over out of the corner of her eye as her spell whooshed past it.

"Watch out!"

Both she and Harry dived out of the way, Harry crashing into the desks and falling hard, Hermione coming to a rolling stop. She got herself up quickly, taking aim at her foe, seeing the hatred burning in Rhamnaceae's eyes—

"Incarcerous!"

A loud cry came from the doorway, and Hermione watched in astonishment as ropes burst into being from nowhere, tightly binding Rhamnaceae and gagging her. The older girl struggled futilely, eyes burning with hatred, but as Fudge, Snape, and McGonagall strode into the room, Hermione let herself relax slightly, two Aurors following closely behind.

"Miss Granger! Mr. Potter! Just what is going on?" McGonagall demanded. "What is all this chaos?"

"She was trying to call the basilisk, Professor!" Harry exclaimed. "Hermione and I heard her, outside the girl's bathroom in the first floor corridor. When I accused her, she shot spells at us and took off!"

"We couldn't let her escape," Hermione quickly added. "We didn't know what harm she'd do to everyone if she thought she was caught, or if she'd just flee..."

"Merlin alive," Fudge breathed, his eyes wide. "The… the Heir of Slytherin? Hadrian Rookwood's daughter?"

Rhamnaceae's eyes were huge, now, and she struggled violently against her bonds, stifled murmurs coming from behind her gag.

"Minister, take a look at this," one of the Aurors said, examining the books laid out. "This… this blood rite…"

"Forget the books, look at her ritual!" someone cried. Hermione turned to see an old, wizened man with a wooden leg pointing at Rhamnaceae menacingly. "That's the Dark Mark!"

The old Auror had a strap around his head, strapping an odd, bulging eye to his head that rolled around wildly. Hermione felt a flare of panic – that was a magic eye, that could see through invisibility cloaks, if Blaise hadn't gotten out—

"Moody!" Fudge exclaimed, flustered. "You were permitted to come along out of retirement only as a courtesy—"

"Oh, shut up," the man called Moody snapped, stepping closer to the girl menacingly. "There is the taint of evil here, I am sure of it—"

"I heard her," one of the Aurors said, pale. "Potter's right – she was hissing back at him as they dueled in the halls."

Fudge was distressed.

"The daughter of Rookwood, such an old name!" he exclaimed. "Surely not—"

"That pendant," Moody said, his weird eye fixed on it. "It's dissolving. Minister, we have a real problem here. The reek of Dark magic is thick in the air. What happened here?"

"My spell missed and hit something," Hermione said. "There was a vial – I think it spilled—"

"Basilisk venom," Moody breathed. "The Dark magic of this is unmistakable."

Hermione couldn't feel anything different in the air. Was that something Aurors learned how to do, detect different types of magic? That had to be some kind of crazy advanced skill.

"Miss Granger, Mister Potter," Snape said, looking pale. His eyes were fixed on the pendant laying on the ground, the Dark Mark twisting as the venom ate it away. "Perhaps it is best you left this to the adults, now."

"What's going to happen to her?" Harry wanted to know. "She was controlling the monster, Professor Snape – I heard her!"

"I expect she'll be expelled, Harry," Hermione said. Her eyes flitted to Rhamnaceae's coolly, her eyes glinting with dark satisfaction. "People like her don't belong here."

Rhamnaceae's eyes widened, and she began her struggling anew, trying to talk through the gag.

"Come now, Miss Granger, Mister Potter," Snape said, guiding them out behind the Aurors who were fussing over the books and blood they'd found. "You've done quite enough already."

There was a crush of students in the hall, all gossiping wildly and trying to get a peek through the door, which Sprout and Sinistra had firmly blocked from view with their bodies. Snape got them to part just enough to let them out, and Hermione stumbled forward as she was let go, students demanding to know what had happened as Snape vanished back inside the classroom. Harry was right next to her, telling Ron about what he'd heard Rookwood hissing and the ensuing chase, while Hermione turned to the side.

Blaise, Tracey, and Millie stood at the end of the hall, watching. Blaise raised a hand casually, saluting, his robes fitting poorly around him, and Tracey winked.

It was enough.

Finally relaxing, Hermione turned toward the demanding students and began relating what had happened once they'd cornered Rookwood in the room, dark satisfaction at a plan well done curling around the corners of her mind.