'Granger,' sighed Professor Snape, as she took a seat in front of him. He rubbed his brow, as if she was more annoying than grading Goyle's essays.

'What do I do with you, girl?'

Rhetoric question, hopefully.

'How many times do I tell you not to go behind Draco Malfoy? How many times have you come to my office for this warning? How many detentions will it take to put some sense into that brain of yours?'

'I don't go behind him, he starts it. At any rate, I don't see you giving this advice to him; you are being blatantly unfair-'

'Quiet. I will not have you taking that tone with me. And tell me the truth now, did you eavesdrop?'

Hermione looked him in the eye and lied, 'No.'

'You're not a bad liar. Except that the fact you're scared is written all over your face.'

Hermione sighed. 'Fine, I eavesdropped. Sorry.'

Snape rubbed his forehead again and said:

'You will not repeat this, Granger. Eavesdropping or detention on the first day of term; none of this again. And there's no need for you to look like you haven't seen the sun in years, Black is not after you, however reasonable it sounds. As for Mr. Malfoy, I will certainly try to talk to him.'

'Talk?' asked Hermione. 'He's cursed my arm so bad its gonna scar. All I did was a Stinging Jinx! And besides what about his detention? You're having me here scrubbing out cauldrons while he gets to waltz around-'

'Precisely why I will be talking to him. Your impeccable sense of justice will not be impaired, I will be sure to hand Mr. Malfoy a detention with the caretaker. Now get out, you have your detention with Professor Sprout in Greenhouse 2, and remember, if a word reaches my ears that you've been eavesdropping again…'

'Won't be repeated, Professor.' Lied Hermione. She had other things to do than focus on cutting down her eavesdropping. It was, after all, a wholly justified part of life, especially a life where no one seemed to inform her anything.

'Hey, Lavender, Parvati, I er, wanted to ask you guys something.'

The two girls, who'd been staying back at the Transfiguration classroom looked at her in surprise.

'What's it, Hermione?'

'Yeah well, I know you're interested in Divination and stuff, so do you know anything about prophecies?'

'Prophecies?' asked Lavender. 'That's not something you can learn, Hermione. In fact, it's something not even Seers themselves can control.'

'And besides, they're very dangerous if interpreted incorrectly. If your guess is wrong, then anything can happen. It's like a ripple, everything changes.'

'But they're very powerful, aren't they?'

'Powerful is a small word.' Said Parvati, and not for the first time Hermione noticed the difference between the sisters. Parvati was brash, bold, passionate- Padma was conniving, factual, cold. It didn't mean Parvati was better; it just meant she was different.

'A prophecy can change your destiny, your whole life. There are people who've gone mad in their attempts to change it, it isn't magic you can control.'

'Some of them might not even come true if you try that,' added Lavender.

'But what a prophecy most depends on is belief, yeah?'

Parvati nodded. 'It might or might not come true anyway, but if no one believes in it, then there wouldn't be a huge ripple effect like that.'

'Besides, it all depends on what the Seer meant, not what the hearer understood. Anyway, why the sudden interest?'

'Nothing, just this book I read. By the way, did you do the homework? Ron's useless, he's been making up shapes and assigning them names from the Quibbler…'

'They say that the Ministry's authorized the Dementor's Kiss for Black,' said Padma Patil, shiny black hair flying in the wind, as she, Hermione and Ron made their way to Hogsmeade for the first time. Padma and Hermione were together for Arithmancy, and it had taken barely a few days for them to open up.

'It sounds horrible,' remarked Hermione.

'It is. Having your soul sucked out isn't a party.' Said Ron, as they reached Honeydukes. 'Even though he deserves it; he betrayed the whole war effort. Hey Hermione, want to try out these Ice Mice?'

'My parents were dentists.' She blurted out. She didn't know why she'd said it all of a sudden; it was just a useless fact she knew.

Padma gave a nervous smile. 'That's like a Healer who takes care of your teeth?'

She nodded. 'I suppose it does sound a bit-'

'It's the stuff of nightmares.' Said Ron sagely. 'Hermione's been to the dentist, it's full of these metal rods and drills and something called forceps, I think, they're used to extract teeth. And they inject stuff that makes you go numb, Anastasia?'

'Anaesthesia.'

'Oh,' said Padma as though she was doubting how legal that was, and quickly shifted to look at the candy instead. A few minutes later they were joined by Terry Boot, and the four of them made their way to the Three Broomsticks. Wanted posters were everywhere, even though the Ministry had apparently seen him somewhere in London. So the Hogsmeade weekend had been sanctioned earlier.

'It's weird isn't it? Having soul sucking monsters stationed outside a school for children?' said Terry in false cheer, as he took a sip of Butterbeer.

'What happens if they get out of control or something?' asked Hermione.

'We run.' He said and immediately started a discussion on how the new DADA teacher would die.

'Lockhart didn't die.' Said Padma.

'Pity,' muttered Ron. Then, aloud:

'Apparently he's writing his own account of last year's attacks- and plans to return back to teaching once he's done. Merlin save us all.'

'How do you know all that?' asked Padma sharply. Ron flushed and mumbled "my mum".

'But Quirrell did. What's to say this one won't trip on his own robes and fall to his death?'

'He's an Auror, Terry.'

'He says so. Ever heard of Polyjuice? Or shape changers?'

'I think I did read an article on how some wizard imitated this bloke under Polyjuice for a whole month at the Ministry-'

'And did you read that one about Polyjuice modifications? Extra lacewing flies make it-'

'Lessen the time?'

'Yeah, and there are all these folktales about some Fae-'

'They're real near Hogwarts, I reckon, I've been searching for that book since forever…'

'It's that blasted Goldstein for sure-'

'C'mon, Anthony isn't that bad-'

'He issues exactly all the books I need-'

'And this is why you shouldn't hang out with Ravenclaws,' said Ron under his breath.

'I am not here to teach you about Hinkypunks and Red Caps. I am here to teach you about real defence against the Dark Arts. Third years you might be, but that doesn't mean you'll be a sitting duck. However for general context, the first lesson we learn, as reluctant as I am to say this, will be conquering your own fears. This will also be undoubtedly, the only dark creature lesson you'll be getting this year, apart from the dementors.'

Alastor Moody grinned maniacally at the last word, his electric blue eye rotating randomly. On the row beside her, Longbottom was looking green, Potter comically confidant, mussing his hair. Millicent and Zabini, who were sitting together, looked eerily similar, with careful, controlled expressions on their faces. She often wondered what had taught them to look like that.

'What can anyone tell me about Boggarts?'

The practical section was going quick, Ron's was a huge Acromantula, Theodore Nott's an ominous black dog, Zabini's the sound of glass breaking, which was unsettling to say the least, Parvati's a giant cobra and before she knew it, it was her chance.

She saw herself standing there, waving her wand, muttering incantations but nothing was happening. She wasn't able to do magic.

Hermione's throat went dry, and she realised she was mirroring her boggart.

'R-Riddikulus!' she stammered, and for a second it was like the fire all over again, that feeling of helplessness, that crashing sense of defeat. She could almost feel the heat of the flames.

'Riddikulus!'

The boggart changed, shifting into the image of a sixteen year old, dark haired boy. Hermione could literally feel the rest of the class staring at her. She opened her mouth to say the word, but she couldn't force it out, it felt like she was petrified.

'Next!' boomed Professor Moody, and in a brief feeling of gratitude, Hermione shuffled to the back of the class. She wasn't scared of Tom Riddle, no, she was more scared of her inability in front of him.

She stayed there till the class ended.

'Have a seat, Granger.'

Hermione sat down, feeling exceedingly nervous as Moody took a huge swig from his hip flask. The blue eye was fixated on her scar, and she had the unshakable feeling that he could read minds.

'Who was that as your Boggart?' he asked without preamble, and Hermione's already panicking brain was concocting several conspiracy theories in answer. She cleared her throat.

'J-Just someone I know.'

Moody shook his head patronisingly.

'Now, now, I'm an Auror and what's more your Professor. Why is that someone your Boggart?'

'He-um, he visited our orphanage once; and he kinda played a prank on me. I'm scared of dogs, you know.'

'Do not lie to me.'

Hermione bit her lip, her hands twisting, as she said, 'I'm not lying, Professor.'

Moody snorted. 'I know that boy, and he certainly didn't go around playing practical jokes on Muggle orphanages. Tell me the truth- how do you know him?'

'Sorry, sir,' tried Hermione. 'but Professor Dumbledore said not to tell anyone.'

'Stubborn one, aren't you? No excuses, I work with Dumbledore, and I know that boy personally. What I want is why he is your boggart.'

She sighed, and said curtly.

'His name is Voldemort. I'd think it's justified that he's my boggart, Professor.'

'Not at all, I'd say. One day, Granger, you should be his boggart. That's how you look at things.'

Hermione gave a wry smile.

'Take it as a reminder,' he said. 'That even the Dark Lord was once an orphan boy called Tom Riddle.'

'If you don't mind me asking sir, did you go to school with him?'

Moody looked at her curiously and then gave a snort of laughter.

'I wasn't exactly discreet, I know. A year below me, he was, in my own house. Never dreamed of it, by Merlin, never. And you know what it's taught me about people?'

'Constant Vigilance?' asked Hermione, grinning.

'Constant Vigilance.' He said, and Hermione thought he might have really smiled.

'Hermione, did you see Scabbers? '

'Hi Hermione,' came a soft voice. Hermione turned from where she'd been looking through the glass windows of the Owlery- she'd just sent off her customary yearly letter to Ms. Rehana. Autumn was beginning, and she'd been gazing out at the scenery, all the hues of gold and red, and the crisp crunch of dry leaves under your shoes. Hermione and Luke had tried to get a job raking those leaves once, years ago in an old woman's garden but it had taken only one day for that lady to fire them. Namely because they'd let her quite menacing dog have his way with the garden.

Luna Lovegood was smiling at her, a quill between her teeth, and ink splattered on one cheek. And not wearing her shoes.

'Where're your shoes, Luna?' she blurted out.

'They've all mysteriously disappeared; I suspect it's the Nargles. They'll come back in the end, they always do. Oh well, are you sending a letter home too? Daddy's just sent me his latest research on the Wrackspurts.'

'I'm sending a letter to the orphanage.' Clarified Hermione.

'Do you have a lot of friends there?'

'A few.'

'That's nice. I don't think I do.'

Her matter of fact tone made Hermione feel ashamed.

'Is that why your shoes are missing?'

'Oh, so you see the Nargles too?' she asked, avoiding the question.

Hermione blinked. 'What do they do?' she asked, in spite of herself.

'They're thieves. They like to hide stuff.'

'Maybe I know them.'

Luna smiled. 'People don't believe me when I say stuff like that,' she said, as she ruffled a tawny owl's feathers.

'Well, to be fair, the stuff you say is quite bizarre, even for Hogwarts.'

Luna laughed loudly all of a sudden.

'Maybe it is, isn't it? But that doesn't mean they aren't real.'

'No,' said Hermione, finding herself smiling. 'That doesn't mean they aren't real.'

'I am substituting for Professor Moody,' said Remus Lupin, a man with sandy hair and long faded scars on his face. There was a recent cut on his nose, and she could see streaks of grey in his hair. She could vaguely remember seeing him on the platform at the end of year.

They were having this class with the Ravenclaws. Ron and Hermione were sitting beside Millicent, and she could almost hear Terry Boot whispering his conspiracy theories to Padma behind them.

'He has been taken ill, and so I will be substituting for this month. Now, you're all accomplished with Boggarts, and so today will be a theory class, namely on the usage of counter curses. Before that however, in accordance with the Headmaster's wishes, I'll be teaching you on dementors.'

'Why in Merlin's name is the toad here?' Potter exclaimed loudly and quickly muttered a few curses under his breath. Hermione, who had been walking beside him to the Great Hall, told him to shut up and looked in the direction he was pointing. Potter went red.

Ah. The Umbridge woman the whole Potter family hated. The short woman was wearing a hideous pink cardigan, and talking to Dumbledore at the staff table. Something McGonagall didn't really like. Or anyone, really considering Seamus and Parvati's collective groan and the look on Lupin's face.

As the whole school settled down at the house tables for dinner, the Umbridge woman walked to the front of the podium and gave a funny cough.

'Isn't she the one drafting all those werewolf segregation laws?' asked Hermione, as she sat down beside Millicent.

'Yeah, she's Sr. Undersecretary to the Minister. High up there. If she's at Hogwarts it means something huge is coming.' said Zabini, quite normally.

Hermione blinked in surprise. Blaise Zabini was talking to the mudblood Girl Who Lived? Apparently the rest of Slytherin seemed to be thinking the same, excluding Daphne Greengrass, who was talking in hushed tones with her sister.

'Blaise-' started Malfoy, who looked as confused as she felt.

'Whoah there, Zabini?' Ron whispered to her, and she shook her head confusedly.

'Yeah,' added Millicent darkly. 'Why's he talking to you now?'

'I thought you'd know.' Said Hermione.

She shook her head and was about to say something else when the Umbridge woman coughed again.

'Students and teachers, I am Dolores Umbridge, Senior Undersecretary to the Minister of Magic. As most of you might already know, I have advocated the amendment of the Werewolf segregation and protection act, and have come here to not only cross check that, but also the security of the school. I have brought reinforcements because Sirius Black has been spotted in Hogsmeade.'

Another wave of whispers. The woman coughed again impatiently and continued in a honied tone.

'Children, you need not worry. This will not be handled like all the dreadful attacks last year. Besides that, the quality of education here will also be constantly checked and any unsuitable teachers will be removed. Now, there is no need to panic at all. We will all be here for barely a fortnight. Before you know it, Hogwarts will be back to its prestigious state and Sirius Black will be captured. It is of course, the Ministry's belief that Hogwarts must be independent from the Ministry's jurisdiction, but by current circumstances it is getting impossible. Again, the Ministry will clear off in two weeks. Thank you for your time, and I look forward to both yours and the staff's co operation.'

The expression on Lupin's face was murderous.

'That Arithmancy Homework is going fast, eh?'

Hermione and Padma Patil looked up together at Cedric Diggory. Padma glanced at her.

'Hello, Cedric.'

'How's it going on then? Malfoy troubling you?'

Hermione sighed. He seemed to have taken the conversation at the platform quite seriously.

'Nothing I can't handle.' She said, and forced herself to continue writing. Why did he have to be so damn nice? Besides, she was more annoyed by Zabini. He'd sat with her and Millicent for the Ancient Runes, and while he hadn't said anything, it was all freaking her out.

'C'mon, Hermione, don't be so adamant.'

'I'm not. I'm completely fine.'

Cedric pulled a chair and sat down. He winked at Padma, who didn't respond.

'Don't tell me she's always like this?'

Padma shrugged. 'Malfoy's been pretty tame this year.'

'Then what's that on her arm?' asked Cedric. Hermione looked down ruefully at the barely healed wound below her wrist and pulled her sleeves over it.

'It's a burn.'

'Look, Hermione, I know you don't like being helped. But that doesn't mean you need to be like this. Calling you a mudblood is wrong. And I know it's him who cursed your arm. I'd think you should let someone know.'

'I got a damn detention for it, I think that's enough letting someone know. And besides, Cedric if you really want to help someone, go help Luna Lovegood.'

'That Ravenclaw second year?' asked Padma.

'Yeah. And she has it worse- they're practically stealing her shoes.'

Padma looked a bit ashamed. Cedric gave a grim smile.

'I'll do something. But that doesn't mean I'm forgetting 'bout you.'

Hermione gave another exasperated sigh, and Cedric seemed to have achieved what he wanted, as he waved goodbye and walked out of the library. Padma walked out quickly too, as though Hermione was going to accuse her of bullying second years. She herself wouldn't have at any time accepted Cedric's help, but Hermione felt that Luna did need it. He was after all, a prefect.

She was just checking if she had to write for more ink; something she absolutely hated; it always made reminded her of where she actually was in this world when there was another unwelcome intrusion.

Zabini.

The slanting grey eyes looked around like no one must see this, as he settled in front of her. The whole unnaturalness of it made Hermione's hand grip her wand tighter.

'Granger,' he forced out, his voice suddenly hoarse and more real, unlike the casual indifference he usually maintained.

'Granger, I'd like a word. Please, just hear me out.'

Hermione raised an eyebrow. Please?

He sighed. 'I'm sorry.'

'For?'

'Granger, I've been an arse for the past two years. Sorry.'

'Is this the moment I check for Polyjuice?'

Bollocks. Like hell he was truly sorry. There was something else at play for sure, just something she didn't yet understand.

'No, I'm actually sorry. I mean, I was an arse.'

'Apology accepted,' she lied, not even bothering to look at him, as she organised her notes together neatly.

'Now fuck off.'

Zabini leaned back silently, as though contemplating what she meant.

'Didn't you hear what I said? Get the fuck out now.'

'Look, I just want to apologise, I don't want to be your friend or something-'

Hermione chuckled. 'Going mental? Whatever gave you the impression that an apology would make us friends?'

'Again,' she started, looking him in the eye. 'Why the sudden realisation of your sins?'

He shrugged. 'It's just eating at me.'

Hermione tsked. 'That's a load of tosh and you know it, Zabini. Does this have something to do with the Ministry coming to Hogwarts? Or is it Malfoy's daddy?'

'It's just an apology,' he countered again, feeling defeated. 'I'll leave you alone.'

'That's what I've been telling you since first year, you tosser.' She finished, as he walked out of the library.

'What's wrong with Potter?' asked Hermione, as she and Ron made their way to the Divination classroom. Last seen in Charms, he'd been in an exceedingly foul mood and had somehow managed to burn the quill he'd been trying to summon.

'Lots of things,' said Ron, as they picked a pouffe. 'Sirius Black is his godfather, his mum's refused her promotion in protest for those werewolf laws, apparently Snape's been tasked to take care of him along with Lupin, besides there are rumours going on that he's a werewolf, if he really is then, damn Dumbledore, again Lupin is more or less on probation already, due to Umbridge, apparently some Education Analyst or something like that's gonna be interviewing the teachers, so there's that. And a million other things.'

'Bad year, I reckon?'

Ron made a non- committal noise and started writing about how the lines on Hermione's palm informed her that she should have died the previous week.

By the end of October, as a result of the combined prayers of the entire Hogwarts body and the duo of Peeves and the Weasley twins, the Ministry had successfully evacuated Hogwarts but not before putting Trelawney on probation for a week, and even managing to wind up Sprout. Several other changes- temporary banning a hundred things; as well as the continuous advocation that Hogwarts needed a better system of student management and insinuations of war crimes, which Hermione regarded a lost cause; it had been twelve years since the end of the War, what persecution or trials were they going to hold now? Besides Remus Lupin had left, Moody was back and Sirius Black seemed quite far away.

Zabini had stopped calling her a mudblood or any snide comments or those weird apologies, and had mostly refrained to acting like she didn't exist. DADA with Moody was especially interesting (apparently the fourth years had got to know on the Unforgivables), and they were starting mock duels now. Beating Malfoy was always refreshing.

Hermione had never been considered bad at school but due to her irregularity of attendance and the irregularity of the teachers she had never been consistently best either. It was weird that, now at Hogwarts, people did consider her among the best. However, even more weird things were happening- Professor Trelawney for instance, had started taking a special interest in Hermione, saying that "she was apparently more receptive to the aura than she'd first thought". Then there was the sudden spread of rumours that Remus Lupin was a werewolf, and that was why Umbridge and her band had come to school. And Ron was in a constant search for Scabbers, who'd never been seen since mid September.

Besides all of that, Hermione's scar was hurting like hell. It had started off as sharp, inconsistent stabs of pain, but by the beginning of November, it had become a persistent ache. Did she have to tell someone? Did this mean something was happening with Voldemort? And curse scars, they said, could leave residue of Dark Magic? Was this going to be like Ginny's diary then?

No.

No, repeated Hermione in her head, her fingers wrapped around her phoenix and holly wand, but wait, hadn't Ollivander said her wand shared a core with him?

No. It was her wand. Hermione Granger's wand. A mudblood's wand. The Girl Who Lived's wand. It was in no fucking way related to a sociopath who depended on little girls for his life source.

Her scar throbbed.

'Ron, I'm not trying to be insensitive, but isn't Scabbers real old?'

Ron grumbled. The two of them were walking around the borders of Hagrid's hut and that of the Forbidden Forest. She tried not to move too close to the canopy or the thick undergrowth; she was highly convinced she'd just seen a pair of yellowish eyes.

'I'm not holding onto lost hope, Hermione. Harry was down at Hagrid's a few days ago, and they say they saw Scabbers.'

Hermione stayed quiet. To be honest, she couldn't see why Ron had dragged her out in the bitter November evening for some thirteen year old useless pet of a rat, especially somewhere near the Forbidden Forest and so near to Hagrid's place, seeing the colossal amount of smoke issuing from there and the rumours that he was breeding his own creatures. The rat had probably become Mrs. Norris's midnight snack, but well, they were friends and it seemed to be the one thing Ron could completely cherish as his own, even his old wand had been Charlie's.

'Hey! Scabbers!' shouted Ron suddenly, and set off in a sprint towards the Whomping Willow. Hermione followed, breaking into a run even though running towards the Whomping Willow was akin to a suicide mission and quickly reached his pace.

'Accio Scabbers!' he tried, but it wasn't working, and just then, something huge slammed into Hermione, knocking her headfirst on the ground. The tree was showing off.

She quickly got up, clutching her wand tight. Hermione hurried to where Ron was lying, and looking around, pointed at Scabbers and yelled an Impedimenta.

It worked. The rat slowed down slightly, and she made a blind grab, but tripped on a sharp rock and fell on Ron, head an inch from his nose, hands delicately balancing her weight as her fingernails dug into the mud. Hermione's robe caught onto a stray twig, and she hit her head hard on his chin. Thank god she hadn't hit her teeth anywhere.

'Blimey, Hermione!' exclaimed Ron, trying to get up as Hermione shifted to the side, scraping her elbow on a stray stone. The Willow gave another hard smack; she ducked, her hair flying over her eyes, and snagging onto some thorny plant and he fell again, as the Willow's blow hit.

'Ron if we die for a fucking rat I'll haunt you forever!'

Ron didn't answer, but stood up, and started running again, narrowly dodging the thrashing Willow, and suddenly the mad tree stopped moving. She looked on in awe, just as Ron cursed loudly, and dropped onto its roots, sneezed and finally gave a triumphant shout.

She ran to where Ron was lying as well, and handed him a hand, as he got up, Scabbers held firmly in one hand.

'Shall I freeze him?' asked Hermione, looking at the struggling rat. Ron shook his head, pretended to dust off his robes, and informed her that her hair looked amazing. She glared.

'You've got dirt all over your face, you git.'

Ron just grinned, shaking his hair out of his eyes, and then exclaimed:

'Hermione, see that, Scabbers' lost another toe!'

'He has...' she said, trying to look at it in the now dark evening. Hopefully curfew hadn't started yet; Snape would be furious.

'Yeah, and I'd like to think I was responsible,' came a hoarse growl from the shadows.