Breakfast came all too quickly. Hermione had already been caught having not been in her bed prior to 4am, so she couldn't Time-Turn back to sleep like she had planned. Instead, she managed a measly three hours, got dressed, tottered to the Third-Floor Corridor, Time-Turned, and slept the same three hours again.

When she awoke the next time, she still felt tired, but she at least felt like she could walk and talk without tripping or falling asleep at the table. Rubbing her eyes, she made her way to the Slytherin table for breakfast, sliding into her seat between Tracey and Blaise.

"Sleepy, Hermione?" Blaise gave her a jaunty grin. "Late night? Were you kept up late?"

"Oh, shut up," Hermione said, her face reddening.

"Or maybe you're just physically exhausted," Blaise continued, musing. "Tell me, Hermione: were you physically exhausted last night?"

"Oh, you wish, Zabini," Draco drawled. "You wish you were the reason Hermione's tired this morning."

Blaise turned to Draco, smirking. "How do you know I wasn't?"

"Hermione would never lower herself and her standards that far, you pillock—"

"Hermione!" Tracey hissed, now that the boys were preoccupied arguing. "Snape came in last night and demanded to know where you were! None of us knew, so—"

"I was in Blaise's bed," Hermione said quietly. "I know everyone woke up from Snape, but I'd really appreciate it if it didn't go far."

Tracey's eyes went wide.

"You were in Blaise's bed?" she said. She whistled. "Merlin, Hermione. Even I haven't yet—"

"Can we not talk about this right now?" Hermione pleaded. "Not all the boys woke up when Snape caught us."

Tracey waggled her eyebrows, but then grinned. "Fine. Later."

They all passed the toast and marmalade around, and Hermione took a few eggs as well. She was tired and keeping up her energy could only help at this point. Conversation broke out, mostly about where Dumbledore was and why he wasn't at breakfast, until the owls arrived.

Hermione braced herself.

Not every student took the Daily Prophet, but enough of them did. There were shouts and exclamations from the Gryffindor table, then the Hufflepuff, then the Ravenclaw table, and as an owl finally fluttered down to drop her paper, she rather saw why the Great Hall was suddenly in an uproar.

DEMENTORS DESTROYED!
Azkaban break-out leaves Ministry scrambling!

There was a photo of the giant hole in the side of the fortress. Wizards in red Auror robes flew around the hole on broomsticks, examining the giant stone arms. One Auror held up the singed robe of a dementor, looking spooked, and the picture replayed. There was a charmed sketch of a person with wings and a sword made of fire next to the photograph, a woman wearing a winged helmet and golden armor, and the sketch was charmed to make it look like she was flying through the air and fighting an unseen foe.

Unable to stop herself, Hermione read.

DEMENTORS DESTROYED!
Azkaban break-out leaves Ministry scrambling!

By Rita Skeeter

Last night, Aurors on call responded to a distress alarm from the guards of Azkaban prison saying the prison was under attack, to which the Aurors responded to immediately. As Azkaban is protected from Portkeys and Apparition, the Aurors had to travel on special brooms; by the time they arrived, the attack was over, leaving only carnage and confusion behind.

"The dementors – they're gone," one Auror told us, on the condition of anonymity. "Dementors were thought to be impossible to kill. And whoever broke in, they killed them all."

Aurors were quick to lock down the prison and conduct a roll call to see who, if anyone, had escaped. The Ministry is holding that information tight to their chest.

"We are currently investigating the matter," said Amelia Bones, Head of the Department of Magical Law Enforcement. "We are attempting to get witness statements from the prisoners, but they are proving rather uncooperative at this time."

A polite way to say that most of the prisoners have gone mad – prolonged dementor exposure is known to cause madness in wizards – and have no desire to help the Ministry that sent them away to rot. Nevertheless, some of the more recently-jailed can recall the event vividly.

"There were horrid screams and heat," Antonin Dolohov told the Prophet in an exclusive interview, held in secrecy in the cells of the Ministry in between interrogations. "No one knew what was happening. Next thing I know, the side of the building's being torn away and Dementors are being burned alive."

There are no dementors currently left at Azkaban. According to Dolohov, the attack was a systematic extermination of all the Azkaban guards that he believes one person was responsible for.

"A Valkyrie came down from Valhalla," Dolohov said. "She came on wings of fire and destroyed the dementors with her power. She destroyed them all."

Though Valkyries are not real, singed tatters of cloaks give some credence to this story. Dementors, however, are known not to burn in fire.

"Of course we've tried fire," said Fidel Taregh, researcher for the Department of Magical Law Enforcement. "After the dementors were found, they tried just about everything they could to destroy them, and they couldn't. That was the whole reason for leaving them as guards, wasn't it? Nobody's ever managed to kill one before."

Azkaban was home to nearly a hundred dementors. This morning, it is home to none.

"The prisoners are all saying it was an angel of fire or a Valkyrie," said our anonymous Auror. "A couple said she had a helper – a loyal warrior to protect her back as she fought – but one thing everyone agrees on – it was a woman who conducted this attack on Azkaban, and one woman alone killed all the dementors."

The repeated story of a Valkyrie does establish one thing – it was not You-Know-Who or Peter Pettigrew who conducted this attack on Azkaban. Neither is known for having wings of flame or appearing as a woman or in a female body.

The Ministry, of course, refuses to confirm any of this information at this time.

"We are currently investigating the attack on Azkaban," said Minister Fudge, in a press release early this morning. "We are unsure of the motives behind the attack, but it is unlikely any prisoners or dementors escaped. Though these are frightening, uncertain times, I remind the public: Azkaban is many miles away, and the wizarding public not in any danger. You are all safe."

Despite the confidence in the Minister's statements, that remains to be seen. If it truly was a Valkyrie, the good have nothing to worry about; but if it was a new Dark Sorceress rising, who knows what new threat the public may soon face?

"We prayed for this," Dolohov told our reporter. "We prayed and drew runes in blood on the floor of our cells, asking Magic itself for help. And Magic answered." Dolohov paused, seeming overwhelmed for a moment. "She came on Midsummer, and she rescued us from our pain, a warrior of Magic sent to answer our pleas. We may still be jailed, but she destroyed the dementors. All of us owe the Valkyrie our sanity, our magic, and our lives."

Hermione swallowed, folding and setting down her paper on the breakfast table. Her eyes were wide, and her ears were ringing. The noise around her was a blur, words all jumbled together into a cacophony of meaningless sounds, and she stared down at the photographs, the image of the Valkyrie replaying its attack over and over.

Gradually, sound started to filter back into words. The entire Great Hall seemed to be in an uproar, voices yelling and clamoring, the frantic noise almost deafening.

"—mean? How is this possible?"

"—who? There's not—"

Hermione abruptly realized she was far out of her depth.

She stood up from the table suddenly, grabbing her bag and rushing from the Great Hall. She hadn't prepared for this; she'd only wanted to see the story in the paper, but she hadn't thought about how to react. She couldn't be here for this – she didn't trust herself to react appropriately, and to behave wrong here would damn her. How would a normal Slytherin student react to the news of an Azkaban attack? A dementor extermination? Would she be shocked at the occurrence? Glad of the dementors' doom? How would an innocent Hermione react to this all?

Seeking shelter, Hermione hurried toward the Slytherin common room, going down the stairs and through empty hallways only to be grabbed very suddenly, her arm wrenched up and behind her as someone pinned her to the wall.

"Ow!"

Theodore Nott glared down at her, his eyes fiery.

"You," he breathed.

"What of it?" Hermione challenged, struggling against his strength.

"Is that what Snape was on about last night? You were the one who murdered all the dementors?" he hissed. "How is that even possible? What were you thinking?"

"That the literal soul-suckers of the world needed execrated," Hermione said defiantly, glaring back up at him. "Let me go."

"You're not going to get away with this," Theo warned dangerously. He pressed harder on her wrist, digging it into the stone walls. "They're going to figure it out, and then—"

There was loud CRACK and a flash of violet light, and suddenly Theo found himself thrown across the hall, crashing into the opposite wall and slumping to the ground. He groaned and rubbed head, then looked at his hand where he had been touching her, his eyes growing wide. Violet electricity seemed to be running up and down his arm, and Hermione took spiteful pleasure that the her magic was still stinging him.

"Never again," Hermione snarled, withdrawing her wand. She walked towards him slowly, her eyes slitted. "You pinned me against the wall once before. And I told myself I'd never again be helpless in that situation."

Theo's eyes widened, and Hermione smiled, her eyes cold.

"You know how I did it," she told Theo, her voice chillingly cold. "But do you really think anyone will believe that a third year was capable of it? When some of the best of the Dark Lord's retinue could not?"

Theo stared at her, horrified.

"How?" he croaked. "I've seen the scars in the forest – the devastation, the difficulty in controlling it—"

Hermione smiled.

"I'm New Blood," she reminded him, chidingly. "I can do feats of magic no one else can possess." Her eyes narrowed. "If you truly believe I destroyed a hundred dementors… I trust you know better than to run your mouth about it…? Lest you join their number?"

She left the sentence dangling, and Theo slowly nodded.

"You're mad," he said, shaking his head. "Absolutely mad. But I'm no fool; I'll tell no one."

"Good." Hermione smiled, pleased. "I'm so glad we had this talk."

"You might want to practice lying and denying it in the mirror," Theo advised her cynically as he got to his feet. "Right now, if anyone else asks you, your face will give the whole game away."

Hermione made a face. "No one else will ask."

Theo snorted.

"That's a lie. Snape suspected you as soon as he heard, Zabini is bound to figure it out, and Malfoy was there with me when you asked us last term about that spell." Theo shot her a pointed look. "And don't tell me that your coven won't at least suspect you. They're no fools."

Hermione bit her lip.

"Fine; come with me, then," she ordered. "Ask me questions, and I'll do my best to deny them. If I need to practice, it'd be better to have live feedback."

Theo rolled his eyes, but he followed her into the empty common room nonetheless, obedient in the face of her power.

The school was abuzz with rumors and speculation all morning, and when Hermione finally reemerged from the dungeons to join her friends on the grounds, the attack on Azkaban was still the primary topic of conversation. Hermione was able to play normal at lunch, echoing others' sentiments of shock and wonder. She openly admitted she was glad the dementors were dead (no one would believe her otherwise), but expressed surprise that anyone was able to get into the prison. She spun a tale about how it was probably a Ministry insider with a grudge or jailed relative to Daphne and Pansy, because only Ministry employees even knew where the prison was. They were the only ones would would be able to get inside the prison as they'd have had the proper credentials, she explained to her wide-eyed listeners, Theo rolling his eyes and shooting her dark looks all the while.

Draco didn't know what to think, it seemed. He seemed very uneasy and on edge the entire meal, twitchy and alert. He just echoed the astonishment of others, not even objecting when Goyle suggested maybe the starving prisoners had figured out how to eat the dementors and made up the story of the fire woman to protect themselves. He just kept scanning the Great Hall for owls, and Hermione wondered if he was waiting for his father to tell him what to think before having an opinion of his own.

Blaise was quiet for most of lunch, seeming to enjoy hearing others' theories and egging them on instead of coming up with his own. He watched Hermione out of the corner of his eye when she threw out bogus theories, not saying a word, but he gently touched her arm from time to time as he reached around her to the table; small, reassuring touches that eased her mind. When Pansy distracted everyone by loudly proclaiming the Ministry was full of morons, Hermione glanced up at Blaise, biting and worrying at her lip, but Blaise only smirked, his eyes sparkling, which made her relax. Even if he'd figured it all out, he wasn't treating her any differently, which was a huge relief - she'd worried he'd act differently after learning she'd exterminated a large group of beings with Dark magic.

Actually, he really should be treating her differently, Hermione mused. She would certainly treat someone differently. She'd have to talk to him later.

After lunch, students roamed the halls and grounds freely, being done with exams. Students were still discussing the break-in, but the conversation was shifting, which Hermione appreciated; instead of just shock and awe, it was more thoughtful discussion on what the Ministry might do now, which was less stressful. None of the students had any power over what the Ministry might decide to do or not do, and idle speculation was less alarming than accusations of who was behind it all.

Hermione joined a group of her friends outside under a tree to hear what they thought, curious to know what non-Slytherins were taking away from the attack.

"First Sirius Black breaks out, then Pettigrew, now someone breaks in?" Harry said, grinning. "The Ministry looks like fools, unable to keep a prisoner in prison. I still think Voldemort's the most likely culprit, though it doesn't make sense why he wouldn't break his followers out."

"You-Know-Who dressed up like a woman?" Ron said, making a face. "I dunno, mate."

"It doesn't matter, anyway," Susan said. She sighed. "The Ministry will investigate – not that they'll find anything – and then we might have actual answers. I'll do my best to get the details out of my aunt this summer."

Harry brightened.

"D'you know, I'm actually looking forward to the summer for the first time in forever?" Harry said conversationally. He grinned. "Sirius wrote to me and told me Dumbledore vetoed me staying with him – he cited the blood wards again, not that it's Dumbledore's business where I stay anyway – so my plan is to go back to my aunt and uncle's for like, a day, and then book it for the coven headquarters."

"You said that's not far from my house, right?" Ron said. "Am I allowed to visit?"

"Err…" Harry paused. "Not sure. We've never actually seen the clubhouse, actually. I don't even know if it's done."

"Oh, it's done," Luna assured him. "Daddy wrote to me to confirm it. Though I believe the builders are returning today to add more embellishments in the wake of last night."

"Wait, what needs changed because of last night?" Susan blinked. "Are they removing dementor protections now because they're gone?"

"I have absolutely no idea," Luna said serenely. "I trust whatever the reason for changing things, it's a good one."

"We'll need to have that conversation soon," a familiar voice added, and Hermione looked up to see Blaise, Tracey not far behind him. They both plopped onto the ground, joining the group. "I think after we sanctify the coven spaces for ritual purposes, it'd be okay to have others come over, so long as the collective approves."

"Makes sense to me," Hermione said, agreeing with Blaise. "It is a clubhouse, after all. We can have others in the common areas and then just keep the ritual chamber exclusive to us."

"Oh, good," Tracey said, clapping her hands. "There is so much going on for you this summer, Hermione! I need to make sure I can meet you somewhere to help coordinate it all."

"I do?" Hermione blinked. "What do I have to do this summer?"

As if from nowhere, Tracey withdrew a scroll of parchment with a flourish. She opened it, adjusted imaginary reading glasses on her nose, and began reading.

"You have the Chocolate Frog photoshoot," she said. "You have your big fundraiser party for the werewolf house. After that, the Greengrasses are bound to ask the coven for help with their fertility issues. The World Cup is in August, and I believe you mentioned trying to buy something expensive."

"Oh?" Blaise said, intrigued. "What are you buying?"

Hermione made a face. "A business, if I'm lucky."

"I can help with that," Blaise offered. "I don't have much going on this summer."

"No, you don't, do you?" Tracey said slyly. "You'll have all the free time in the world, now."

Blaise shot Tracey a dark look, but Tracey merely shrugged and smiled, smug, before turning back to her list. "After that, you have to go to Gringotts—"

"Wait. Why will you have all the free time in the world?" Hermione asked, turning to Blaise. "Did something happen?"

Blaise rolled his eyes. "It's really not a big deal—"

"Sally-Anne broke up with him this morning," Tracey cut in, gleeful, and Hermione gasped.

"She did?" Hermione asked. "Why?"

Blaise's lips quirked.

"The rumor mill travels fast, you know," he said conversationally. "And, well. She's willing to overlook a lot, Sally-Anne…"

"But even she couldn't overlook the rumor that Snape had caught Blaise with a witch in his bed," Tracey said, gleeful. "Draco heard a girl's voice in their dorm this morning and Snape arguing with Blaise. He told Flora Carrow, who told Hannah Abbot, and the whole school knew by noon."

"Oh no," Hermione said, stricken. Guilt clawed at her throat. "I didn't mean—I've ruined—"

"You've done nothing wrong," Blaise said firmly, cutting her off. He took her hand, and Hermione's eyes flew to his as he rubbed his thumb across the back of it, reassuring, soothing. "I've asked you before to allow me to help you however I can, and you did just that. Don't apologize for that, Hermione. I am honored to serve."

"Your relationship, though," Hermione protested weakly. "I didn't realize the consequences—"

"Consequences be damned," Blaise murmured, his eyes holding hers. He lifted her hand to his lips, pressing a kiss to the back of it. "I wouldn't change a thing."

Hermione felt like her breath was caught in her throat, like her eyes were caught in his, tangled in a well-woven web of a spider. In the background, Ron's voice was a blur of unheard noise, asking Harry if he thought Ron would stand a chance at being Sally-Anne's rebound, but the words barely registered in Hermione's mind. Blaise was looking at her, his eyes intense, and she couldn't look away.

"Oh, Hermione, do you still want to visit a muggle fortune-teller?" Tracey poked Hermione sharply in the side, breaking the moment. She twirled her quill. "I have down that you wanted to see the difference between muggle divination and magical divination, but I don't know if you still want to do that now that you're probably going to drop the class."

"Oh," said Hermione, coming back to herself. "Yeah, I'll actually still do that. I think it'll be fun, even if I'm not going to take Divination in the future."

"You're dropping Divination?" Ron protested. "Why?"

"Because I don't have the 'Inner Eye', and it conflicts with Ancient Runes," Hermione said, giving Ron a look. "I gave it an honest try, but it's just not for me. I'll be better off focusing on the classes I do have some level of skill in."

Ron rolled his eyes. "Ancient Runes over an easy O class? Figures."

Harry winced. "Actually, Ron…"

Ron's jaw dropped. "Not you too!"

"Professor Babbling agreed to let me join her class," Harry said, giving Ron a sheepish grin. "She's going to give me a test at the beginning of 4th year, to determine if I'll be in the 3rd year or 4th year class. But I need the Ancient Runes to succeed better in Arithmancy."

"You're going to leave me alone with that batty woman?" Ron complained, plaintive. "It'll be just me and Neville up there with the crystal balls?"

"I'm not dropping Divination," Tracey said. She smirked. "I think I might have a slight Inner Eye myself."

"Really?" Ron asked. "Who's going to win the World Cup?"

"Ireland," Tracey said without hesitation. "Obviously."

"You're just saying that because it's Ireland," Ron accused.

Tracey smirked. "Doesn't mean I'm wrong."

Hermione turned to Harry, pleasantly surprised.

"I didn't know you were thinking of joining Ancient Runes that seriously!" she exclaimed. "That's wonderful!"

Harry's face turned red.

"I like Arithmancy a lot," he said, looking away. "And I already know I'm not going to get anything out of Divination. You said once – we're at the best wizarding school in the world, so we ought to make the most of it. And my education, I'd rather it be useful, I guess? So Ancient Runes made sense, if it'll help with what I like…"

"For the record, I'm proud of you," Hermione said, smiling. "That's a very daring choice, to take up an elective a year late, but it's a mature one. I'll help you study over the summer, if you like, so you stand a chance of getting into the 4th year class."

Harry looked relieved. "Thanks. I'd appreciate it a lot."

Hermione smiled, and she laid back on the grass, listening as Ron and Tracey continued to bicker over the likely outcome of the World Cup, letting her eyes drift closed. She was undoubtedly going to have a lot of questions to answer soon, especially from her coven once they got somewhere secure, but for now, she was content to relax and doze.