Hermione laughed. There was no scorn in it, no bitterness, it was just, her, laughing like nothing else could have made her happier.

After all wasn't this what she had wanted in a twisted, ugly way - an end to the waiting- an end to the mystery of why Draco Malfoy had left the school for more than three weeks, an end to her own hot headedness because she could still feel the rage that had burned through her as she slammed his head on the wall, warm blood on her hands, something like fear and satisfaction mixing together in her chest.

Ron was staring at her, aghast.

'Hey?'

Hermione waved a hand carelessly, cradling her chin in her hands. 'And why am I to be expelled?'

'Miss Granger?' came a voice. Hermione and Ron turned, as the rap of someone knocking on the door reached her ears. 'Miss Granger- are you there?'

'That's Snape,' said Ron helpfully, shoving his hands in his pockets. Hermione walked to the door, swinging it open. The looming, bat like figure of Snape was there in the hallway. His thin lips were pursed, and he looked more gloomier than ever. Snape exhaled heavily, his eyes scanning the empty dormitory behind her as they landed on Ron.

'Mr. Weasley- what have you been doing in the girl's dormitory?'

'I- er came to tell Hermione the news-' flustered Ron. Snape pursed his lips, the dark eyes meeting her brown. 'To my office, Miss Granger. Mr. Weasley, I do hope I will not catch you in here again without good reason. Out.'

Hermione caught a short glance with Ron and followed Snape to the dark interior of his office. She took a seat, twisting her fingers together. To be expelled.

The words crumbled meaninglessly in her mind- expelled- no magic- as helpless as a muggle and yet, and yet, she couldn't believe it, she could not comprehend having to go back to the drab grey of the orphanage- and even Luke wouldn't be there- but she didn't care about Luke, right?-

'Ms. Granger,' stressed Snape. 'I suppose Weasley gave you the gist of the situation.'

Hermione let out a breath she didn't know she was holding. 'Why am I being expelled?'

'A very good question,' snapped Snape, drumming his fingers on the table. 'Why is Hermione Granger being expelled? Why did Draco Malfoy go home? Why did you, you foolish little girl, crack open his skull, why did you nearly kill him?' Snape's face was white, almost scarily so and his lips were quivering slightly. 'You have been saved from Azkaban, you idiot of a girl! Saved from having your soul drained out over the course of a year!'

Hermione looked up, meeting his eyes which were glittering malevolently. 'Was it Lucius Malfoy, then?' she asked softly.

'Yes.' Snape flushed slightly, a tinge in those sunken, sallow cheeks. 'You have been reckless. What- what could have possibly possessed you to do that?'

Hermione found herself feeling very calm- for a second it felt like she was looking at all of this from a very far away place. 'He insulted my parents. He provoked me.' she said simply. She sat up straighter, feeling like she had been drugged in a shimmering haze of addicting power. 'He deserved it.'

'Enough.' said Snape, his upper lip curling. 'Whether he deserved it or not, what you did was wrong. Dumbledore would be disappointed.'

'Disappointed, Professor? Well, please let him know my gratitude on saving me from the dementors.'

'You know as well as I do, what is happening, I know you see far more than you show. The laws have been changed- Hogwarts must maintain its independence from the Ministry.'

'Hogwarts must maintain its distance from Dumbledore,' said Hermione.

'Yes. Your expulsion, is a matter of consideration with the head of Hogwarts personally-'

'Who is right in Lucius Malfoy and Voldemort's-'

'Do not say the name.'

Hermione stopped, feeling once again as though this was all happening in a far off country.

'Very well,' continued Snape. 'Here you get an advantage. Minerva McGonagall has decided that she wants you to stay at school.'

'Selwyn?' asked Hermione.

'Jacob...does get a say,'

'Expel me.' said Hermione, even as flashes of memories sparked in her mind. Her first night at Hogwarts- the treacle tart she had never eaten, the first time she saw the library with its million and millions of books, its stretching shelves, the smell of fresh parchment- sitting with Ron in the Common Room over a game of chess, arguing with Bulstrode- looking down from the Owlery at the little figures of students roaming the grounds- the shining stars embedded in the dark sky, inviting, calling - Ron, hugging her as she was covered in blood and slime. Zabini, muttering that she was good at duelling. Yusra, with her dark hair, and clever eyes - running on the grounds as a black dog chased them- a black dog- a man that Voldemort was going to use to kill her-

Hermione blinked.

'I did wrong, didn't I?'

'Yes,' said Snape. 'You did.'

'So?'

Snape linked his fingers together. 'The matter of your expulsion,' he said. 'is a long process that has been going on since the last three weeks. Lucius Malfoy filed a case in court for his son. The Wizengamot cannot have a say in this - as it will be considered a bias vote and anyways, this is to stay a Hogwarts disciplinary, by Minerva. But Malfoy, on the board of Governors, can have a say. Unfortunately, as Minister, Dumbledore cannot interfere. He cannot change the laws either- because those would go against Lucius Malfoy's faction- which as we are seeing has started to employ more and more of pure blood supremacists.

'But now,' he added. 'You are, anyways suspended by direct action. Your official expulsion, will however, only take place after the Tournament ends. Nevertheless, you will not be staying here. Now you have to go, to Durmstrang. No loopholes there- the Goblet of Fire is a magically binding contract.'

He blinked twice at the expression on her face. 'I will keep you in touch, as will Minerva and Dumbledore.'

'So, I'll not be allowed back here?' she asked, in a voice that was trying very hard to be steady.

'I will not waste my time and yours in lying to you. Know what you are getting into. Yes, you are getting expelled. But you will have your wand for as long as the Tournament.'

'My gratitude for their thoughtfulness.'

Hermione found a place far away from everyone- out in the Hogwarts grounds somewhere in a grassy alcove, somewhere where the castle seemed quite far away, somewhere from the laughing jeers and chatters of the students, and anyways, she though wryly, she would be leaving all this very, very soon. It was afternoon- after all, she was no longer to be allowed in classes. She chucked a rock mindlessly, her eyes very determinedly not looking at the furled up newspaper beside her. It has, as she knows, a picture of her on the front- the one where she'd stood for Sirius's trial with several nasty lines following.

Hermione Granger was unstable. Unfit. Dangerous. Deserved Azkaban- deserved the dementors. A would be murderer.

There was a pretty bush of wildflowers beside the rock she was sitting on and here, in the fading sunlight, it looked almost too beautiful, too perfect in her eyes. Her long hair was messy, a bushy tangle framing her face. She wanted to curse someone.

'Tomorrow morning, come to my office,' said Snape. 'You will take your portkey to a specified spot away from Durmstrang where Minerva will be waiting.'

She took another deep breath, and got up. One of the flowers had withered.

Hermione did not get to make a smooth exit to her dorm as she had wanted. She knew she wouldn't be able to meet anyone's eyes. She had done wrong- might have even killed him- and for what? It wasn't like Malfoy had insulted her parents or her for the first time? Why had she lost it, why had she felt so insane?

But she wasn't sorry. She wanted Hogwarts- she loved magic- she loved it, she needed it- she depended on it like nothing else- but even for all that, she found she couldn't lie to herself. She wasn't sorry.

He deserved it. He had played on her weakness. He had latched onto some part of her that wasn't numb to scathing remarks yet- he had leeched on it- he had made sure to twist her every fear. It was quite the talent, she would admit. Quite the talent.

Attack me now, Voldemort, she thought. Now. When I'm going to be expelled and out of the school's safety.

It was then that she noticed the tall figure hidden in the shadows of the tall walls. She recognized him anyway.

'Hello, Zabini. Come to gloat?'

Zabini did step out, those slanting eyes focused on her. 'Not exactly. What's there for me to gloat?'

She did not answer. He took another step. 'You will probably be the first mudblood to ever step foot in Durmstrang.'

In a second, Zabini bends over in pain, clutching his abdomen. 'What the fuck did you do that for?'

'They've chucked me out,' said Hermione casually, feeling herself in a way she had never felt before. 'What's another attempted murder attempt, hmm?'

She dodged out of the way of his spell. 'We aren't here to duel, Blaise.'

'No, no,' he said softly, now standing up. She put some more distance between them. 'We are here to talk.'

'Stop acting like you're a middle aged, hardened politician,' snapped Hermione. 'All you are is a fourteen year old away from his mummy who's trying to act big. Tell me what number is your current stepfather?'

Her shield charm deflected the violet jet of light that issued from his wand.

'Why did they expel you?'

'Don't act like you don't know,' said Hermione. 'They've expelled me because of darling Draco.'

'Yes,' said Zabini softly. 'Yes, it was...expected. At any rate, what are you going to do, Granger?'

'I don't see how it concerns you.'

Zabini shrugged. 'Curiosity, Granger. What are you going to do? I know you can't go back to that Muggle hellhole you stay at. As far as I know you don't have any family. Will the Weasleys take you in- I'd dare say they have enough of their own-'

'Unless you're offering me a free manor, Zabini, you can do the smart thing for once in your life and move the fuck out of my way,' snapped Hermione, even though the words seemed to latch onto her, because it was true, wasn't it, it was true she had nowhere to go-

Zabini spent a long minute looking at her. 'In our second year, you killed a Basilisk, did you not?'

She would be gone anyway, so what was the point wasting time to lie? Hermione nodded.

'And there was something wrong with Moody...or he wouldn't have left so abruptly - and then you did too- you took the exams early...' he trailed off. Zabini let out a long, low whistle.

'We can help you, you know.'

'No, you can't. You can only double cross and preach bigotry and live without a conscience.'

'Sooner or later, you pick sides, Granger.'

'I've already picked mine, thanks.'

'Then, good luck,' he said smoothly, and moved out of her way. For a moment, she had the fleeting impression that he had meant it.

'Don't,' hissed Hermione, when she entered the dormitory to the gleeful expression on Pansy's face. 'Just fucking don't.'

The mocking smile vanished immediately and the girl simply retreated to her own bed pulling the hangings shut. Anytime ago, this might have got a cheap thrill of power out of her, but now her thoughts were muddied and twisted together- and the future was stretching into the darkness. Standing there, at the foot of her bed was Millicent Bulstrode. Daphne was looking at them very intently. Davis wasn't there.

'Rather bad luck I chose you to be my Potions partner for the last few years.' said Millicent. Her dark hair open, the barest hint of something in her usually stoic face.

'Yes,' agreed Hermione, feeling another itch to just stay here-to glue herself here and not let go. 'But I'm grateful for that bad luck anyway.'

'So, untill next time, then, Granger.' she said, and held out a hand. As Hermione gripped her fingers, she felt something small and circular and ice-cold being slipped into her hand. She raised an eyebrow slightly but Millicent did not do anything.

'Count on it, Bulstrode.'

'And if you ever win those thousand galleons, you know which Gringotts account they're going into,' said Millicent. Hermione suddenly wanted to cry. Gone - all of this gone, and here was Millicent Bulstrode, who had never lifted a finger for anyone, who had always wanted to stay alone, who was still a friend. As though she wasn't leaving all this for good- as though she could ever come back.

She didn't sleep that night. Instead she and Ron disillusion themselves and they sneaked out of the Common Room together, a taut, too sharp silence between them. Hermione silenced the sound of their footsteps, as they climbed up the spiraling stairs, and all she could think was Malfoy's words- you aren't welcome here anymore, mudblood -

Ron and Hermione slipped into an empty classroom and Ron sealed the door, lifting off the disillusionment charm. His expression was troubled, as he hoisted himself onto one of the desks. Hermione sighed.

'Listen,' started Ron. 'I'm sure Dumbledore can do something-'

'He's saved me from Azkaban. That's all he can do. If he tries to pass laws that let the Ministry interfere with Hogwarts - well, the public won't like that, will they? And nor will most of the Wizengamot- whether they're in Malfoy's pocket or not. To be honest, I wouldn't like it. Voldemort was sure in his plans- he wants Hogwarts. He wants it to be his stronghold.'

He waved a hand helplessly. 'You're right. And we shouldn't go with false hope.' He let out a long whistle, his eyes meeting hers. 'I'll...'I'll write. And maybe you can stay with us. Just-' He broke off, and there was another long silence. He put on a faint smile. 'We'll fight a way out, you know.'

'Hogwarts is losing talent,' said Snape, teeth grit together as though the words were causing him physical pain. 'You have never been a particularly good student, Granger, but I will say that you have always been intelligent.'

There was a jerk at her navel and she was lost in a whirlwind of colour before he finished the sentence.

Hermione landed gracelessly on a patch of grass, her head bare inches from a particularly sharp looking rock. She got to her feet, pulling out her wand. A breeze tickled strands of her hair out of her braid. Dawn was just breaking - rays of sunlight shined in through the thick leaves of trees. There was a sudden crack. Hermione turned on her heel, bouncing slightly on the balls of her feet.

'Miss Granger,' said Minerva McGonagall.

'Good morning, Professor.'

McGonagall held out her hand, and simply said. 'Side along apparition.'

Once again, the wind rushed in her ears as she was suddenly taken by the dark.

They were now standing next to a large pair of iron wrought gates, which opened automatically. The view in front of her spiraled in lush, extensive grounds, way larger than Hogwarts. Durmstrang, the castle itself, was rather smaller than Hogwarts. While built of stone, the stone itself had a lustre to it, something that made it shine in the light, making it look like the castle was illuminating the vast grounds. A long lake spread across its front- the surfae looking like an impeccable sheet of glass. There was no one in the grounds itself, but far off from the main castle, there was a little stretch of a pretty, flowering garden - the vibrant reds and violets catching her attention in the meagre sunlight .Away from the alcove of gardens, there stretched solid ice - just a deserted slip of land coated with frost.

'Oh,' said Hermione, feeling very stupid.

'Ms. Granger,' came McGonagall's voice, interrupting her reverie. 'Dumbledore wanted to talk to you- I have asked for access to the private Floo network for the next hour. If you would hurry.'

They walked across the large grounds, grass that seemed a little too bright green, and the castle like a living entity - it was quite smaller than Hogwarts and not more than four storeys tall and unlike Hogwarts, where the castle felt like a living, breathing thing, where each wall seemed to hide history, here, Durmstrang institute had a sheen, a radiance to it, like something that was best kept far away. In the far distance she could see large hoops presumably for Quidditch.

They did not enter through the main doors, but McGonagall took them from the side, and they passed the impeccable sheet of frost and ice - it was as smooth as glass, Hermione could see her own reflection in it.

She pulled her coat tighter, as the side doors, large and iron wrought, swung open of its own accord. Hermione followed McGonagall, as they stepped into a dark grilled lift, and suddenly everything was spinning madly-

The lift doors opened noiselessly.

Hermione stepped onto a thick carpet with a thousand intricate patterns sewn into it. The lift had opened directly into the room - it had not stopped at any landing. The room itself was huge - probably as big as two of their classrooms put together and had been furnished sparingly but expensively.

McGonagall waved her wand as fires sprang to life in the stone fireplace. Looking closer, it had several intricate engravings- few of which were runes she recognised.

'Transfigured that one myself,' said McGonagall airily, pulling her cloak tighter around her.

'Oh, none of the other rooms are this big,' she added. 'Durmstrang might they've wanted to show off- tricky extension charms and what not, if I'm not wrong. Hogwarts aren't staying here though. We have our own cabins - this is just an office for my convenience.'

'Now,' she said. 'Dumbledore was busy talking with the Wizengamot earlier, so he's decided to talk to you today. I will go out and put up a silencing charm. You will stay here and listen.' As she was talking, she pulled out a little bottle and the flames turned emerald, raging and shining and spinning as it finally stopped and the face of Albus Dumbledore came into view. The fire vanished now, and Dumbledore stepped out gracefully, his blue eyes meeting hers.

'I will leave you two,' said McGonagall, and with a flick of her wand, she left. Dumbledore was wearing robes of turquoise, and he took a seat at one of the large armchairs opposite Hermione. He looked strangely disappointed, which made Hermione want to curse something again.

'I..I am very sorry, Hermione.'

'It was my fault,' said Hermione, tone emotionless. 'It's all fine.'

It wasn't fine, no way in hell was it fine - now not only was she expelled she also had to participate in a Tournament which had been stopped because so many of the participant have died-

Dumbledore seemed to be thinking on the same lines.

'No, it is not fine, and you know that as well as I do. It is a curious thing, Hermione, but those who are best suited to power as those who have never sought it. I am not meant to be in power. Power, Hermione, is addicting. It tempts, it pulls, it attracts. I was happier at Hogwarts - I was safer. Perhaps not my own, but of those who are around me. I wish,' said Dumbledore, and now his eyes were far away.

'I wish I had not chosen the position - but it was inevitable, there was no other solution.'

Hermione shuddered inwardly. Lucius Malfoy was bad enough now - the thought of him as Minister was horrible.

Dumbledore sighed. 'It is a delicate situation. You'll be safe here, for the time being - I have been trying, without effort, to get you out of the Tournament, but well.'

'Who could have put my name, anyway?' asked Hermione. 'And why would they do it? Even if they hoped I would maybe die here in the tasks - well I would have been less safer at Hogwarts with Jacob Selwyn lording it there-'

'No.' said Dumbledore firmly. 'You were safer at Hogwarts. I know you've heard about the Order. Severus, Filius, Pomona, not to mention Feydor - they would have all protected you. No, it is riskier here - but I will investigate into this. And now-'

Hermione had never seen the man look so sad. 'Hermione,' he said gently. 'I have requested - at the cost of the Statue of Secrecy, but I daresay we let such trivialities slide by in the name of the Minister of Magic - I have requested to perhaps, persuade your father's cousin to maybe, come back to Britain...'

Hermione remembered the time she'd first heard of magic, as she had piped up with every single question she could think of McGonagall's voice telling her - that her only known relatives was a cousin of her father in the US-

Hermione tried to imagine it- someone to come home to - maybe they would take her in - maybe she would have something to go back to - and maybe they would tell her about her parents - maybe they would sit by the fire and talk - maybe they would be a family-

And soon enough her thoughts spinned down a different path - after all, it had been magic, the unknown, the magic that had killed her parents.

Green light they did not know the meaning of. After all, she had been removed from this world now - because which other school would she go to- and this wasn't just about schooling, was it? - this was about learning, this was about this new world that had been gifted to her, this new world with its lying old men and monsters and kind friends-

She couldn't endanger them now. She couldn't drag in someone who didn't need to get themselves involved in her lives. What if she came home o the Dark Mark floating overhead and dead, cold bodies? A prophecy, they had said. A prophecy. It had been Hermione's fault her parents had died.

But the prophecy had not referred to her, just a muggleborn. Again, in her mind's eye, the image of the silver diadem rose and she was faced with that same yearning once again-

'Hermione?'

'I'd like to meet them,' she said. 'But once its all done, let them stay in the States. I...I don't want to drag all that here.'

Power wasn't the only thing that tempted.

Dumbledore gave a grim smile. 'I will talk to you about your custody once the Tournament is over.'

There was a sudden rap like noise and the suddenly magnified voice of Minerva McGonagall floated through.

'Why yes, Headmaster, I was just about to contact you...'

Something flashed in Dumbledore's eyes. 'Igor won't be too happy to see me here, I must leave. Stay careful, Hermione-' and he was gone through the grate without any indication of having used Floo powder, right on time as the office door opened.

McGonagall was standing beside a tall, thin man with silver hair, whose thin smile didn't reach his eyes.

'I see.' he said. 'You are Hermione Jean Granger?'

'Yes.'

'Muggleborn?'

'Yes.'

'I see,' he repeated. 'I am Igor Karkaroff, Headmaster of Durmstrang Institute. Before you join your schoolmates, you are needed to be searched, as your Headmistress ought to have informed you. I will be sending a student to your, er, carriage, to escort Miss Granger.' The man had a look of condescension on his face. He gave a cursory nod at McGonagall and left the room.

The grounds stretched even behind the main castle, and on one side was a large, elegant carriage; from where she could see several blue robed figures talking outside. Probably Beauxbatons' carriage with elegant filigree and shimmering work covering the exterior.

And to the left, was the Hogwarts Express. The scarlet engine even had its own track, but it was not just the Hogwarts insignia that had been painted onto the carriages but also a magnificent red gold splashing of feathers that convened together to form the image of a phoenix. Hermione stopped in her tracks, thinking about lying on a damp floor as the very same phoenix appeared with a raggedy old hat.

The feathers glistened in the sunlight, moving slightly, and it looked so alive in her eyes. Even as she watched, transfixed, the express vanished and in its stead were the Thestral drawn carriages, all combined into one magnificent, breathing entity-

'Oh, my god.' said Hermione, eyes widening and feeling like she was eleven and staring at Hogwarts for the first time all over again, where the portraits talked and the staircases shifted and the food was delicious and everything was alive.

'Oh my god,' she repeated. 'It changes.'

'Yes, it does.' said McGonagall. 'I would have liked to go with the boats, but flying by air is always so faster, even if it means we steal some of Beauxbaton's glory - and Hogwarts' Thestrals are of course...unique.'

'It's like Hogwarts,' said Hermione and something painful was blossoming in her chest, something that felt like guilt and homesickness and yearning-

'It's just like Hogwarts,' she repeated. 'It changes.'

'Congratulations, Granger,' said Adrian Pucey. 'You've got yourself into the most fucked up of situations,'

They were inside one of the compartments in the Hogwarts express. Hermione shrugged, sorting through her trunk. She'd never need to pack it again.

'It's quite a talent. Besides, who is the Hogwarts Triwizard Champion-'

She was cut off by the sound of someone calling her name.

'Miss Hermione Granger?' asked the tall, dark haired boy standing in front of the Hogwarts Express, and as Hermione skipped out of the compartment she had set her possessions in, the whole thing shifted again in appearance.

'Yes, that's me,'

'I am Stefan,' he said curtly, in highly accented english. She noticed that he held his wand very tight, and self consciously pulled his fur coat tighter. Even as the action registered in her brain, the cold of the place seemed to suddenly multiply. 'I am to take you to the security-'

He made her walk in front of him, his wand steadily pointed at her back. It didn't bother Hermione at all. She could hold her own, couldn't she?

From here, Hermione caught sight of the far, snow capped mountains, and the interspersed sounds of birds from far away. They got in through the same lift she had been in, except now they had landed in a small, windowless room.

Everything was pitch black. Behind her she heard Stefan shuffle slightly. 'I leave,' he said. 'All over in a few minutes.'

She was suddenly plunged in ice cold water, so cold it felt like fire. Water dripping in her eyes, she raised up her wand, about to cast the impervious charm as the water suddenly disappeared and now she was in something suffocating and tight and god, she couldn't breathe.

It ended. The lights blinked on.

Igor Karkaroff was standing there, as he inclined his head slightly. Beside him was a short, fair woman whose quill was floating in midair as it recorded whatever she was speaking, something that sounded like German.

'Very well,' said Karkaroff. 'Cleared. You may prepare for the first task - to be held two weeks from now. It will test perseverance and the ability to think on your feet. Till then, I do hope you will enjoy the castle.'

The jab was petty and slight, but Hermione made sure to remember it anyway. Oh, she would certainly persevere.

a'n:

here i am with my exams like six days away...

Snape isn't a death eater in this AU.
oh and i know, that technically if Dumbledore is minister, he should be able to pass laws easier - because the majority party that formed the government is his party - its his party sitting in the parliament -unlike what's going on here, where the minister is independent of Wizengamot alliances. but we don't use all that logic here- the wizengamot is judiciary, parliament - and independent of the minister. (this is a supreme mess)
as always, any feedback is appreciated.