A large tawny owl landed gently next to Hermione's breakfast the next morning. It seemed to sag slightly as though very tired, which, Hermione reasoned as she untied the three heavy books from its foot, it probably was. She fed it some bacon as she read the letter that had been tied on top.
"My dear Hermione,
I have enclosed the books I thought would be most useful to you, and my grandmother sends you her best wishes.
I wish you the very best and I promise you I shall keep your secret. Do not hesitate to let me know if there's anything I can do to help.
Fleur Delacour.
P.S Do you perhaps know a Monsieur Bill Weasley?
"And just why is Fleur Delacour writing to you?" Harry asked, blatantly reading over her shoulder, shameless creature that he was. "And why has she sent you books on Soul Bonds?"
"We ran into each other in France," She shoved the books into her bag and resolved to look at them later. Fleur's owl took a long drink out of Hermione's goblet and she smiled as a voice that sounded very much like her mother's muttered, "Unhygienic!" in the back of her head. She gave the owl another piece of bacon, as her eyes snagged on a problem.
"Only you." Harry chuckled, but she was too distracted to listen.
"We've got to do something about that," Hermione murmured, staring across the Great Hall towards the Slytherin table. Harry followed her gaze and scowled heavily.
"I don't want to help him." He snapped furiously, Black temper sparking up.
"What happened to family being the most important thing?" Hermione asked cooly.
"He's not family," Harry growled as he started tying his hair back into a ponytail.
"He's all alone. And," Hermione pointed out. "He's actually more related to you than I am. Aren't you two blood cousins or something?"
They both stared at Draco who was sitting apart from the rest of the Slytherin students, head bent over his breakfast. Their cousin looked dejected and exhausted, large purple bruises under his eyes, his hair in disarray.
"Yeah, but I like you more," Harry whined. Hermione glared at him and he abandoned his puppy eyes for a frown.
"It's your House, Miss Black," Harry grumbled. "You can do what you like."
Hermione stared at him archly.
"Is that so, Lord Potter?" She snapped coldly.
He had the decency to wince, although Hermione may have gone a bit too far by calling him, Potter.
"Sorry." He muttered.
"You really need to explain all this House nonsense to me later," Hermione added as she grabbed her things and stood up. "There are no books on it in the library here."
Harry downed his coffee and followed her, albeit begrudgingly.
"Basically it means you stole my inheritance." He told her. Hermione shot him a confused look but dropped it as they approached the Slytherin table. The students there eyed them distrustfully, some displaying outright hatred. Several pointed at Harry and began whispering under their breath. Harry's lips curled into a very pureblooded smirk.
"Draco," Hermione announced clearly, ignoring all of this. The blonde froze, his shoulders stiffening even as his ears turned a traitorous red. "We've got potions together. Come on."
He glanced up at them.
"What are you doing?" He hissed scathingly.
"Walking you to class," Hermione told him simply, apparently unaffected by his fury. "C'mon."
Draco looked down the Slytherin table. No one looked back at him and Hermione sighed.
"You're a bit short in the friend department, I see." She told him very quietly. "Don't turn away your family as well."
Draco's jaw clenched and he nodded shortly, standing up from the table.
"Fine." He snapped.
What followed was probably the most awkward walk to the potion's classroom in the history of Hogwarts.
This is not, strictly speaking, true. The most awkward trip to Potions remains the event where Severus found Lily Evans and James Potter in a store cupboard in their seventh year and then had to walk to class in the same direction as them.
Defense Against the Dark Art was just as bad as everyone had feared, although it probably wasn't helped that Hermione went in with quiet fury already burning in her veins. She could feel that something was happening at Hogwarts, she just didn't know what yet. Umbridge smiled at the class as she directed them to the first chapter of the Slinkhard book that they were supposed to read.
"So we're not doing any practical this year?" Hermione demanded loudly, looking through the book in disgust. The classroom went very quiet as Umbridge fixed her beady eyes on Hermione, sitting next to Harry in the middle of the room.
"Miss Granger, I believe?" She asked, consulting the register.
Hermione nodded coolly, narrowing her eyes.
"You are a muggleborn, yes?" Umbridge asked, smiling widely. Several students exchanged unhappy glances.
"Not that it matters, but yes," Hermione admitted uncomfortably, leaning back in her chair. Next to her Harry winced. He knew the sight of Hermione warming up to an argument far too well.
"Then your confusion is understandable considering up your rather…" Umbridge paused, affecting a mien of sympathy, "rustic upbringing." She finished, sickly sweet. "The Ministry feels that a purely theoretical approach to Defense is more than sufficient for children to learn." She folded her hands in front of her and smiled. Several students recoiled. Dean Thomas looked furious and Harry spotted Seamus holding his sleeve rather tightly. Several others looked extremely unhappy.
"What if we need to defend ourselves?" Hermione asked, attempting to sound reasonable, rather than antagonistic. "That is, after all, the purpose of "Defense Against the Dark Arts", isn't it?" Harry let out a very quiet groan as there was a murmur of quiet agreement from the class which was quelled when Umbridge coughed.
"Why on earth would you need to know those spells? Let alone use them?" The Professor asked, eyes narrowing.
Hermione felt her anger starting to boil over. Next, to her, Harry seized her hand and squeezed hard. Harry had been subjected to glowers and muttering since he'd gotten on the train this year and Hermione refused to stand for it any further.
"Well Professor, I would estimate that the Dark Lord running around the country might be an adequate excuse." She snapped.
Umbridge eyes narrowed as the murmurs rose to a sharp whispered crescendo.
"Those stories are based on lies spread by none other than young Mr Potter here."
Harry opened his mouth to correct her, but Hermione silenced him with a glance. Across the room, Draco, sitting alone from the Slytherins, started to look slightly concerned.
"Now then." Umbridge seemed to feel that the matter was now closed. "Turn to page three and begin reading."
"Tell me, Professor..." Hermione called out, more baring her teeth rather than smiling.
"Students will raise their hands in my classroom." Umbridge insisted, smile turning into a grimace.
Hermione raised her hand and continued blithely.
"Tell me, seeing as I so obviously lack the upbringing, how exactly Cedric Diggory died?"
Umbridge didn't even have the decency to flinch, despite the shocked gasps that erupted from the students. Harry started digging his nails into Hermione's hand.
"His death was a tragic accident..."
Hermione saw red. She hadn't been coaxing her brother out of nightmares for the last month just to have it swept under the carpet as a tragic accident.
"Oh really?" She sneered. "And the use of the Imperius curse on the Durmstrang student Viktor Krum, was that an accident as well? What about the death of Bertha Jenkins, you worked with her? Or can you explain how a wizard of seventeen dies of heart failure? We all saw his body when Harry brought it back. He was unharmed. Even someone with a theoretical approach to defence knows that only the killing curse..."
Umbridge went red. It clashed horribly with her robes.
"Ten points from Gryffindor!" She shrieked. The classroom erupted into chatter as her tenuous hold on them began to slip.
Hermione laughed darkly and persisted.
"How about the presence of Barty Crouch Junior in this castle for almost a year? He was a confirmed Death Eater, escaped from Azkaban and all. I would have thought that one might catch your interest. He was your ex-boyfriend, after all." Draco visibly recoiled.
"FIFTY POINTS!" Umbridge screamed.
Hermione got to her feet. Students were openly muttering around the room, Gryffindors looking anxiously at Hermione, Slytherins looking on gleefully. She could feel the twin's confusion and concern in the back of her mind and it only spurred her on.
"Tell me something you inbred toad," Hermione snarled viciously, utterly furious for the first time in a long time. Her textbook in front of her started to smoulder and Harry quickly doused it before anyone noticed.
"DETENTION!" Umbridge screamed shrilly.
"Were you ever openly a Death Eater or did you just agree with their doctrine?" Hermione asked sweetly.
Silence reigned across the classroom as the assembled students stared at Umbridge whose face had gone an ugly shade of puce. Hermione smirked in victory.
"Present yourself to Professor McGonagall immediately," Umbridge ordered. Hermione laughed. "You have a week of detentions starting this evening. Be at my office for 7."
"You called Professor Umbridge an "Inbred Toad"?" Minerva consulted the slip of paper that Umbridge had sent Hermione with when she'd banished her from the classroom. "And implied that she was a Death Eater?"
Hermione, who had now calmed down enough to be slightly ashamed of herself, winced.
"Yes," She managed.
Minerva stared at her.
"Have a biscuit, Hermione." She muttered as she rubbed at her temples.
Hermione munched on a chocolate digestive while adoptive mother attempted to ward off a headache.
"I understand that you were simply defending Harry but…"
"She said I couldn't understand because of my rustic upbringing." Hermione told her sullenly. There were crescent moon cuts in the back of her hand in the shape of Harry's fingernails that throbbed painfully.
"She openly asked if I was muggleborn, as though that is any of her business. She called Harry a liar!"
Minerva sighed heavily, looking unsurprised.
"A lot of people have been calling him that," She pointed out sadly, "And a great many will always hold your blood status against you. But right now, with the school the way it is, you need to keep your head down."
"I can't just not speak up when I see something that's wrong." Hermione grumbled.
"I'm blaming Sirius." Minerva announced to the room at large. "You've been spending too much time with him. Hermione, don't try and pretend this was about standing up for what's right. This was about defending and protecting Harry." Hermione scowled, unable to argue with that. "While that is admirable you need to learn to control your anger. You deliberately baited a…" She seemed unwilling to finish "Teacher," She said begrudgingly, "Into an argument. Something which I distinctly remember your father doing on several occasions." Minerva added in a mutter.
Hermione didn't say anything and Minerva sighed.
"I can't do anything about the points or the detentions, but I'm just going to ask...try not to lose your temper again."
Hermione flushed in shame.
"I know you can do better than this, Hermione."
Hermione didn't have a chance to see the Twins before her detention, so she couldn't do anything about the worry they were feeling. She sent Harry to explain as best he could and headed off towards Umbridge's office.
My grandmother would love this, was Hermione's first thought upon entering. The room was decorated with little decorative plates which contained vapid fluffy kittens playing with balls of wool. Everything was covered in lace and doilies and Hermione entertained herself momentarily with the look of Amelia's face if she ever saw this.
"Sit down, Miss Granger." Umbridge smiled vapidly and Hermione's amusement vanished. She crossed the room without saying anything and sat down at the lone table Umbridge indicated. "You'll be writing lines."
Hermione dropped her bag onto the floor next to her and she reached into the pocket of her robes for a quill.
"No, no!" Umbridge dropped a long, dark quill onto the desk in front of her, along with a roll of parchment. "Use this quill. You won't need any ink either," She added when Hermione just stared at her. "Write "I must behave," until you have covered both sides of the parchment. You may begin," She returned to her desk and Hermione, picked up the quill and started to write.
The gasp of pain she let out was pure reflex as she dropped the quill. The words cut into her hand, mirrored the ones written in shining red ink on the parchment. They healed over slowly and Hermione got a sick sinking feeling in her gut.
"Is there a problem, Miss Granger?" Umbridge asked,
Hermione felt her jaw set and she glared down at the portrait.
"I'm happy to see you're learning your place."
You can do better than this, Hermione.
Clinging onto the words of her adoptive mother and gentle burn of the Twins in her back of her mind, Hermione put quill to parchment and began to write.
Hermione learned two very important things in that lesson. One was that Umbridge actually enjoyed causing pain in others. Hermione could see it in the smile that twisted her mouth when Hermione turned in her parchment, the simpering look she gave to Hermione. She enjoyed making Hermione pay for speaking out in class. The second thing she learned, or relearned, was how powerless she was. She indulged in elaborate revenge schemes, ideas of seizing her wand and attacking Umbridge while her back was turned, of setting the pink drapes on fire. And then where would she be? A dangerous muggleborn who couldn't control her magic? A muggleborn who openly attacked a pureblood? Harry Potter's deranged friend? Hermione had spent enough time in the social care system to know that when it came down to it, an adult's word held more weight. She couldn't afford to draw attention to herself, to her family or to her bond.
The marks didn't scar the first time and Hermione kept her mouth shut when Harry and the Twins asked her about her detention.
"I don't like this," Fred muttered to his brother, as Hermione quietly did her homework and ate her breakfast, only half listening to whatever story Harry was telling her.
"She knows we can tell when she lies," George scowled. "So she's worked out a way around it." Their bondmate was entirely too clever for her own good, but both of them had felt her pain last night. The fury and the helplessness.
Hermione glanced up and smiled at them for a moment and the bond George had with her gave a quiet hum of some emotion he didn't dare put a name to.
"OI!" Angelina advanced on the group of them. "You three! Keeper tryouts on Friday. You will be there."
"I've got detention." Hermione told her tiredly. "Won't make it."
"What?" Angelina snapped furiously, dark eyes flashing. "You need to take your commitment to this team seriously, Hermione! Where's Black?" Harry had ducked under the table the moment he'd seen Angelina approaching, displaying that famous Gryffindor bravery.
"In bed." Hermione grumbled, glaring down at her homework. "Shove off, would you?"
The Quidditch Captain glowered at them but moved away.
"Bloody hell," Harry murmured, somewhere under the table. "I think Wood got to her."
The third time proved to be the charm for Umbridge and the skin on the back of Hermione's hand, which had already been inflamed and itchy, stopped healing over. Hermione wasn't sure how she got back to the Gryffindor Common Room. Her eyes were full of tears and her hand burned, each step jarring it painfully as she hauled herself up to the Fat Lady.
"Cuthbert's Prism," She gasped out.
"Twist!" Fred and George spotted her almost falling through the portrait hole and moved impossibly fast, it seemed to her. Picking her up before she reached the bottom of the steps and lifting her across the room to the nearest sofa.
"We can feel it." George insisted as she stared at them, confused. "What happened?"
She was in pain and scared and Hermione felt her resolve to deal with this herself vanished as she lifted one trembling hand to show them.
I must behave.
Fred let out a low roar of fury and shoved off from the sofa, as George wrapped his arms around her and hauled her into his lap. The assembled students of Gryffindor watched the seventh year fearfully as he snapped,
"That bitch!"
"Fred," George tried, hugging Hermione.
"I will make her life hell," Fred promised darkly.
"Fred!" George insisted.
"I swear…"
"FRED!" George snapped, looking furious. "Not now!"
Fred turned and looked back at his pale and trembling bondmate, sitting in his brother's lap looking as small as he'd ever seen her.
"Right, sorry." He settled back down onto the sofa, energy confined to nervous trembling.
"Not now?" Hermione asked quietly.
George grinned at her.
"Oh, I'm with Fred all the way. We're going to run that cow out of the castle."
Hermione let out a hiccupy laugh and relaxed as much as she was able with the throbbing of her hand.
Fred and George held off on their revenge, as they began to stockpile supplies. They were, they explained to Harry, settling in for a war, not a battle.
"Remind me not to piss you two off." Harry murmured as they sat, bruised and tired in the Common Room waiting for Hermione to come back from her last detention. The Keeper tryouts had been exhausting, Angelina's manic energy infecting everything.
"The chances of you ever hurting Hermione are pretty low," George pointed out as he added something else to an incredibly long list. Fred, who was watching Hermione on the Marauder's Map, hummed in agreement.
"What has Professor McGonagall said about this?" Harry asked, nodding towards the bottle of murtlap essence the Twins swore would help.
Fred and George exchanged a grim look.
"She won't let us tell her." George admitted. "Said there won't be anything that McGonagall can do about it."
Harry sincerely doubted that. Minnie was frightening and even Sirius said she was one of the most powerful people at Hogwarts. Compared to her, Umbridge was just a toad.
Fred moved to pour the murtlap into a bowl as Hermione, looking exhausted and worryingly pale, pushed open the portrait and almost fell into the room.
The expressions on the Twins' faces as Hermione soaked her hand in the bowl made Harry almost feel sorry for Umbridge. Almost.
"I need to talk to you,"
Hermione paused outside the Great Hall and turned to stare at Draco, who'd hidden himself behind a nearby statue.
"Really?" She asked exasperatedly. Hermione hadn't got much sleep that weekend, spending most of it catching up on the homework she'd fallen behind on because of her detentions. She still had work to finish over breakfast… She stopped to actually look at Draco, who looked unusually pale. "Okay."
Draco led her a little way from the main entrance and into a small side corridor.
"I got this at breakfast." He shoved a scrap of paper at her.
"Mr Malfoy, please report to my office at six o'clock this evening. Professor Dumbledore," Hermione glanced up, concerned. "What do you think it's about?"
Draco rolled his eyes.
"He wants to know where I went this summer. Do keep up Granger."
Hermione resisted the urge to punch her cousin and instead settled for narrowing her eyes.
"What do I tell him?" Draco pressed.
"The truth," Hermione said instantly. The Slytherin stared at her. "After a fashion of course. Tell him your mother went to Sirius to have the marriage dissolved, he'll have worked that bit out anyway. He'll have seen your father over the summer I imagine." Draco flinched but nodded thoughtfully. "Tell him you went with your mother to…" She paused, "Your mum owns property, I imagine." Hermione was still getting used to moving in the same circles as the obscenely rich.
"Several." Draco said easily.
"Tell him you went there and spent the summer in hiding. Tell him your mother went abroad as soon as you went to Hogwarts and you don't know where she is right now."
"And that's it?" Draco asked doubtfully.
Hermione turned and started walking with him back to the Great Hall.
"Yes, that's it. It's mostly true and stands up to scrutiny. Don't mention me or anything about the Blacks."
Draco stiffened, looking almost insulted.
"I would never." He frowned, catching sight of her bandaged hand. "What happened to you?"
"I got detention." Hermione grumbled. "Let me know if you have any more problems? I'm in the library most evenings."
Draco scowled fiercely and stormed off.
In all honesty Hermione forgot about Draco, because two very different things happened. The first was the announcement of Dolores Umbridge as High Inquisitor and the second was the loud booming explosion which heralded the start of what would later be referred to as hell.
Hermione had known something was going to happen. The Twins were virtually vibrating with anticipation during breakfast and even the worrying news of the High Inquisitor didn't seem to dampen their excitement.
"You're not going to tell me," She asked her teacup, "Are you?"
Fred by her side let out a low, dark chuckle.
"You're going to need to look really surprised for this to work." George breathed on her other side, also addressing his breakfast. The Great Hall was almost silent that morning as the news about Umbridge set in. Even the staff seemed shell shocked.
"Is this because of my detentions?" Hermione asked wearily. "Because technically I deserved those…" She dropped her toast as a twin grabbed either arm.
"Don't say that," Fred insisted very quietly, very close to her ear. His warm breath fanned out across her cheek and she flushed.
"That toad," George, usually the more level headed of the two, snarled, "Tortured you. We're going to make her rue the day she decided to even look at you."
Hermione risked a look at George and was taken aback by the sheer fury that he'd been hiding from her all weekend. It almost overwhelmed the bond, white hot and slow burning. Hermione started raising the shield she'd built last year and George flinched, cooling slightly.
"You guys don't need to do this for me." She insisted quietly, looking from one to another. Fred looked amused.
"It's a matter of honor, Twist. Don't you want revenge?" His eyes twinkled and Hermione felt her lips twitch into the barest form of a smile.
George let out a quiet huff of laughter.
"Don't worry about it, yeah?" He dropped the barest kiss onto her cheek and then stood up, grabbing his book bag. Fred mirrored him on her other side and Hermione felt her face burning red as she hunched over her breakfast again.
Harry, who'd been sitting across the table and watching with a sort of disgusted bemusement, said,
"Feeling okay there 'Mione?"
She kicked him under the table and tried to ignore the way Ginny Weasley was glaring at her.
They had Defence first thing on a Monday, so Hermione and Harry followed the rest of the fifth year Gryffindors and Slytherins towards the classroom. They were lining up outside, Harry and Hermione at the furthest back they could manage and not be obviously fleeing towards the Charms corridor, when Hermione felt the faintest trace of very familiar magic. Then…
WHOMPH
Several people screamed in shock as a definite explosion rocked the Defence classroom, shaking dust out of the corridor and dropping a few pieces of loose plaster onto people's hair. The fifth years froze for a moment and then immediately exercised extreme self preservation skills by rushing on mass towards the door of the classroom. Pansy Parkinson pushed open the door and they stared at the sight that greeted them.
The Defence classroom had been covered in a thick, troll green sludge, which dripped from the ceiling and walls and from, of course, Umbridge herself. The witch had clearly been moving towards the door to usher them all in and looked to have been caught sideways by the blast.
It reminded Hermione vividly of those tv shows where they used to douse an unsuccessful contestant in "gunge", although what exactly gunge was she'd never been sure. Umbridge was completely covered, her lurid pink robes complete obscured by thick green paint. By the looks of things the blast had caught her sideways, as the only clear patch on the floor was on her right.
"Professor," Pansy asked carefully, "Are you alright?"
Umbridge started to scream.
Class was immediately cancelled. Umbridge had to be ushered to the Hospital Wing to be checked out by Madam Pomfrey and McGonagall and Flitwick were summoned to dispel the paint, which had started to smell foul and smoke in places. The fifth years were immediately dismissed as suspects as they had been outside the classroom at the time and when suspicion inevitably turned to Fred and George they proved that they had been in their NEWTs Charms class at the time, asking Professor Flitwick about practical applications of cosmetic enchantments. It seemed, for now, that the perpetrators would go unknown.
We knew it was the Weasley Twins, we just couldn't prove it! As Minerva pointed out to me, knowing that they were the only wizards capable of such a thing wasn't actually proof. I demanded to know who needed proof when the Twins were looking like the dragon who'd got the goblin hoard.
"What the hell was that stuff?" Harry asked the Twins as he dropped down next to them at dinner.
Fred smirked.
"No idea what you're talking about," He insisted.
Harry eyed him flatly.
"Umbridge was out of the Hospital Wing in time to inspect my Divination class this afternoon. They got the paint off her but the smell…" He nodded towards the top table where the teachers were very obviously leaving a wide berth of space around Umbridge. Professor Sinistra looked like she wanted to be sick into her pasta.
George smirked.
"Yeah, that might take a while to wear off." He admitted. "Where's 'Mione?"
"Library," Harry murmured. "I think she's planning on staying there all night to catch up on her homework. Snape gave her an Acceptable in her potions essay so…" The Twins winced commiserarily.
"How'd she take it?" Fred asked cautiously.
Harry looked at him through his fringe, green eyes worryingly serious.
"You're the one with a magic link to her feelings," He pointed out, "You tell me."
"I'm sorry, Mr Potter," Hermione felt her brother go rigid next to her in the seat to her and she hooked her foot around his ankle in warning, "Is the textbook not quite to your liking?"
Harry, who'd been leafing listlessly through his Slinkhard book, looked up at Umbridge with badly concealed malice.
"No, Professor." He hissed.
Hermione looked at Umbridge and felt her heart sink in her chest. The witch was staring at her brother with a sort of sick fascination and Hermione had a sudden realisation of why Sirius had hidden Harry away until he was eleven. Umbridge looked at Harry like he was a thing, an obstacle to be removed, a problem that needed to be resolved. She looked at him and saw the Boy-Who-Lied.
"I understand," Umbridge raised her voice for the rest of the class to hear, "That previous to my appointment you had an," She paused to grimace and Hermione just knew she was thinking about Remus. Harry evidently felt the same way, she could hear him grinding his teeth in frustration. "Unfortunate series of professors, the last competent one being Professor Quirrell,"
Who had had Voldemort on the back of his head, Hermione very carefully did not say. No one at the school knew that any student had been present when Quirrell had died, especially not Harry or Hermione. With Harry's current level of scrutiny that was the last thing they needed getting out.
Umbridge had continued,
"But if you continue to fail to meet expectations, Mr Potter," Harry winced, "Then I will have no choice but to punish you," She peered at him, bug eyes wide as her face twisted into a wild smile. Harry went white and for a moment Hermione thought it was fear. Then she caught the looked in his green eyes, the clenched teeth and the vicious curl to his lips.
Umbridge turned back to the front of the classroom,
"Now that has been enough of your attention seeking behaviour, Mr Potter…" Harry twitched and Hermione only barely heard the hex he breathed. Umbridge deflected the jet of sickly yellow light before it could reach her and whirled, glaring at the classroom. "Who was that?" She demanded. Her gaze rested squarely on Harry who wasn't letting his expression slip at all. "Mr Potter, perhaps some detentions would improve that behaviour of yours…."
"It was me."
The room froze and Umbridge turned her bug eyes on Hermione, who was half standing out of her chair, shaking slightly with her indecision.
"Miss Granger," Umbridge's lip curled. "Do not lie in my classroom,"
Hermione looked around desperately and found help coming from the most unlikely source.
"Please Professor," Draco raised his hand carefully in the air, "I saw her cast it,"
Umbridge looked from Hermione to Draco, who was looking every inch the perfect Slytherin, for all that he'd been ostracized to the other side of the room from his peers.
"Very well. Miss Granger, I'm disappointed that the message has yet to sink in," Hermione couldn't help it, she flinched and Umbridge smiled. "Another week of detentions I think."
"What the HELL!" Harry roared, dragging Hermione into the nearest empty classroom. Hermione wrenched her arm free of her brother's hold and leaned against a wall, feeling exhausted. The rest of Defence has passed in a hushed silence as the whole classroom refused to even look up from their desks. "Why would you do that, 'Mione?" He looked manic, frantically pacing in front of her, stirring up dust with his robes as he moved. "You don't need to protect me!"
"Clearly, she does." Hermione hadn't even noticed Draco entering, he moved so quietly. His blonde hair shone in the darkness of the room and, not for the first time, she envied the grace he seemed naturally imbued with.
"And YOU!" Harry rounded on the Slytherin, glaring at him furiously. "What the hell was that? You threw her in it to, what, improve your own social standing?"
Draco looked bored.
"Unlike you, clearly, Granger is capable of taking care of herself. She needed help and I supplied it."
"Why?" Harry demanded, seeming to reduce in size where her stood. He stared at her sadly. "Why 'Mione?"
"I don't want you left alone with her." Hermione bit out, voice glacially cold. Harry flinched. "I'm just a mudblood," Draco scoffed, at that. "Imagine what she'd do if she got the Boy-Who-Lived alone."
"Po…" Draco paused and coughed when Harry glared at him. "Black," He started again, "She had a point. Umbridge looks at you the way my father looked at mud...muggleborns. We don't know what she might do to you. Let Miss Black protect you."
"Please, just call me Hermione." Hermione begged. Draco smirked at her.
"Protect me?" Harry gaped at the other wizard, "Do you have any idea what she's just subjected herself to because of me?" He grabbed Hermione's hand, finally free from bandages and shoved it at Draco. The blond peered closely at the fine white scar that was in the last stages of healing.
"That's a blood quill." He said eventually, looking between Harry and Hermione. "Father used to use them to sign contracts until the Ministry seized them. They're illegal!"
Hermione sighed.
"She had special dispensation from the Ministry to use it." She murmured, taking her hand back from Harry and tucking it back in her pocket. The classroom felt oppressively warm and she longed to get outside into the open air. "Harry, it's fine. I'll deal with it. I promise."
Her brother looked ashen and sweaty.
"'Mione, I'm so sorry."
Hermione huffed out a small laugh, picking up her school bag as she went.
"Don't worry about. Just maybe learn to control your anger a bit better."
The Twins were furious when they realised why Hermione vanished after dinner that evening and why Harry was curled up in an armchair in the Gryffindor Common Room looking nauseous.
"What did you do?" George asked, dangerously quietly.
Harry grimaced.
"I was an idiot." He admitted. "I tried to hex Umbridge and 'Mione took the blame for me."
George's eyes narrowed and Harry had the uneasy realisation of how much bigger the Twins were than him. Sure Harry was almost as tall, but years playing as Beaters had put a lot of muscle on them.
"If you hit him Hermione will be mad." Fred said from his own armchair, looking eerily calm. He was reading a letter with an unusual level of focus. George scowled and stood up with a huff.
"Where are you going?" Harry asked warily, visions of the Twins horrible retribution springing to mind. .
"To get the fucking murtlap!" George spat.
Dear Fred and George,
I hope this letter finds you both well and that you'll forgive the hour that I sent this at. Some disturbing rumours at the Ministry have come to my attention. Apparently an explosion in Madam Umbridge's classroom caused her to be sent to the hospital wing. Luckily she was unhurt.
I know this was you two! Don't worry, I've not informed the Ministry but this will be the last time I protect you. If you two are not careful you could see yourselves facing criminal charges! This is no longer a matter of school boy pranks, you two are both of age now and Dumbledore's time at Hogwarts, and by extension, his leniency for the pair of you, will shortly be coming to an end. I ask you to please, concentrate on your studies and give up this childish nonsense before it become the ends of you both.
I am similarly disappointed to hear that your have continued your association with Harry Potter. He is a liar and dangerously unhinged to continue spreading such rumours and it would be in your best interests to sever ties with him. I've also heard that your friend Miss Granger has spent a week in detention with Madam Umbridge for throwing a fit in her classroom. I hope that you will be able to bring your friend around to seeing things from the Ministry's way and that she too, can heed my words of warning.
Your brother,
Percy Weasley
Percy,
As of right now, Harry Black is more of a brother to us than you are. Stop spying on us through Ron and fuck off.
Messers F and G Weasley.
(Donated by the office of Percy Weasley)
"Are you okay?"
Hermione looked up from her Transfiguration essay to frown at her cousin. Susan had ink on her nose and the long coils of her red hair were loose about her shoulders. She looked shockingly like her aunt for a moment as she stared at Hermione with cool suspicion.
"I'm fine." Hermione lied.
There was a time, when the Hufflepuff and the Gryffindor were not so well acquainted, when Susan would have nodded and accepted that as the truth. But after watching her family go through so much in the last five years, Susan had honed a badgers loyalty into fierce protectiveness, occasionally overwhelming possessiveness and an uncanny sense for trouble. She wasn't fooled for a moment and Hermione knew it.
She looked back down at her essay quickly, hoping Susan would just let it be.
"You're very loyal," Susan said abruptly.
Hermione narrowed her eyes, instantly suspicious.
"Well, to the family anyway." Susan continued in that strangely calm voice. "To be honest I don't think you give a damn about the school, or houses or even most of the students here." Hermione clenched her jaw, fingers tightening around her quill. "Everything you've done since you got here in first year, you've done because you want to protect this family. And that's admirable. But there comes a time when enough is enough."
Hermione's quill snapped.
"He's my little brother." She hissed, glaring at the table.
"And he's the Boy-Who-Lived." Susan pointed out mercilessly. "And people are always going to have it out for him. But you are also my cousin," She reached out and gripped the back of Hermione's hand where the scar was still visible. "And this cannot happen again. I refuse to let it."
Hermione didn't say anything, just flipped her hand in Susan's grasp and laced their fingers together.
Hermione's sixteenth birthday dawned without much fanfare, except for the small pile of presents she accumulated throughout the day. At breakfast she received a small hand mirror from Sirius which he promised was connected to one he kept on him and would allow her to communicate from home. Amelia had gotten her a collection of Defensive magic books and Remus had gotten her a large stash of Honeydukes chocolate which Hermione had to immediately shove into her bags to save it from Harry. Susan handed her a brightly wrapped package which contained some very pretty hair sticks which had wickedly sharp points and a tiny plush badger which would occasionally come to life and snuffle around her trunk, frightening the hell out of her dorm mates the first time it had happened. Crookshanks promptly hunted it down and slaughtered viciously. Harry had gotten her a new dress she had no idea if she'd ever wear and...and the Twins… well as far as Hermione could tell they hadn't remembered it was her birthday. This was fine. It wasn't as though she'd told them it was coming up, she reasoned as she sat with Draco in the library. The Slytherin was ignoring her blatantly, although he was also sharing his box of sugar quills with her. Hermione had no idea how he'd found out it was her birthday. Or why he even cared.
It wasn't until she was walking back to the common room and she got a sudden burst of nerves-joy-amusement which wasn't fast enough for her to avoid the hand hauled her into a passageway. The Twins looked almost demonic, illuminated by only their wandlight. Hermione shifted uneasily and they both winced. Fred ruffled his hair self-consciously.
"Happy Birthday." They said together.
Hermione gently took the small package wrapped in bright orange paper.
"What is this?"
"It's a present…"
"We've not got you one before..."
"...and we wanted to give it to you earlier.."
"..but it only just arrived...so…"
They were nervous: looking at her hopefully, George biting his lip, Fred anxiously twisting his bracelet. Hermione eyed them for long moment and the smiled slightly.
"Thank you." She murmured. She ripped off the wrapping paper and her fingers closed around hardwood.
"It's a puzzle box." George murmured.
"Bill said learning to solve puzzles was an important part of being a Curse Breaker." Fred added.
Hermione felt that slow soft feeling over taking her, as the very quiet echo of something similar coming from the Twins. She grinned at them shyly.
"I love it."
The Twins were suspiciously quiet for the rest of September. Whether they were simply concerned about drawing too much attention to themselves too soon, or if they were just biding their time it's hard to were definitely up to something, although I only know of this because of a meeting I unintentionally disrupted. Clearly organised by the Weasley Twins, the entire Gryffindor, Hufflepuff and Ravenclaw Quidditch teams were gathered around the tables of an empty classroom. To my amazement I also spotted Draco Malfoy (who had retained his seeker position because Severus had blatantly abused his power as Head of House) and Miles Bletchley the Slytherin keeper and one of the few open half-bloods in the house. (It wasn't that Slytherin didn't have half-bloods and muggleborns, it was just that they didn't have many, and the house tended to rally around them until they blended seamlessly in with the purebloods. Life is unfair to Slytherins and they display loyalty and protection in the strangest ways, mostly by ruthlessly protecting what they considered to be theirs.)
The room went silent when I walked in and they stared at me, looking distinctly guilty. Especially the Hufflepuffs.
I recommended a privacy charm to them, awarded five points to each house and left without asking any questions.
Exactly what they had been planning became obvious at the first Quidditch match of the season, Gryffindor vs Hufflepuff which happened in September.
(Transcript sourced from the private collection of Lee Jordan)
"Spinnet races over the stands and-ooh, takes a bludger to the face from Kirke - drops the Quaffle onto Professor Umbridge's head - Honest mistake Professor- Hooch restarts the game- Johnson passes to Spinnet-that is a lot of blood, has she broken her nose?- I can see a very guilty looking Gryffindor beater, the Twins are on bad form today – Spinnet passes to Bell, who dodges Summerby and heads for the goals. Can she get past Hussain? She can! Ten points to Gryffindor and...oh Professor Umbridge where did all those owls come from? That's a lot of pellets..."
After being hit no less than seven times and almost having her shoulder dislocated by a rogue bludger (For which Hufflepuff was responsible for) Umbridge was seething but, as all the staff members pointed out, Quidditch was a dangerous game and accidents happened. If accidents tended to happen more often to Umbridge well, that was just bad luck wasn't it?
"Miss Granger, where are you going?"
Hermione was standing in the middle of Harry, Susan, the Twins and Luna froze at the top of the path to Hogsmeade.
"To the village, Professor." She turned, feeling the solid warm of the Twins and her family at back. Umbridge was dressed for the colder late September weather in a thick pink cape and a small squat hat that perched on top of her head which was covered in bows. Hermione felt her stomach sink at Umbridge's smile.
"I think not. I was recently informed that you are an orphan, is that correct?"
Hermione had a horrible feeling she could see where this was going.
"Yes, Professor." She bit out.
"In that case you don't have parental permission to attend Hogsmeade, now do you?"
"Professor McGonagall signed my form." Hermione told her desperately. "She's…"
"A teacher, and not your guardian." Umbridge smiled. "As you are a ward of the school that title belongs to the Headmaster. Back to the castle." Hermione stood frozen and Umbridge coughed. "Now, Miss Granger."
Reluctantly she began trudging her way back to Hogwarts, listening to the loud protests of her family as Umbridge began ushering them towards the village. She could feel the bond burning with the Twins' indignation. Doing her best to block them out, she headed for the library.
"Didn't feel like the village today?"
Hermione, who'd just set her books down next to Draco in the library, sighed unhappily.
"Umbridge banned me from going," She admitted. Draco stared at her. "Don't have parental permission," She added in a sneer.
"Where'd you get books on bonds?" Draco asked instead, changing the subject. Hermione glanced down at the books Fleur had sent had her with a tired expression.
"A friend sent them. Thought I'd find them interesting. I've not had time to read them before now,"
Draco arched his eyebrow but didn't say anything, going back to his potions homework.
Four hours later Hermione literally threw her book away from her. It hit the nearest bookcase and dropped to the floor. Draco, who'd been startled out of his homework, stared at her. She looked unusually pale and incredibly scared.
"Granger…" He asked quietly.
His voice startled her out of her shock and she scrambled into motion, grabbing her books and shoving them into her bag. Draco summoned the one she'd thrown and handed it to her silently. She rushed off at great speed and he sighed.
"Fucking Gryffindors."
If any readers have been wondering at the sudden change in Mr Malfoy's behaviour, they must remember that Slytherin's have the strongest self preservation instincts of the four houses. Hufflepuffs will take a blow for another, Ravenclaws are frequently too caught up in their own ideas to consider safety and Gryffindors...well quite honestly they've not got the common sense of two drunk hedgehogs. Slytherin's know when they're beaten, when to bide their time and most importantly...who to show loyalty to. That's in part why so many of them sided with You-Know-Who in the first place. It is rarely spoken of, the fate of the Slytherin Purebloods who refused to side with him.
Speaking with Mr Malfoy much later, he told me that upon arriving at Hogwarts and discovering he was the pariah of his House and that his friends refused to even pass him an inkwell...he'd had a simple choice to make. Maintain loyalty to a system which had just abandoned him or throw himself on the few ties he had left. After five years of observing the Black family and the way they closed ranks and fiercely protected what they considered to be theirs, he knew he could do worse for allies. Also, he was too scared of his mother to actively go against her.
"You lied to me!"
Professor Flitwick jumped and knocked over the bottle of ink he'd been dipping his quill in.
"Miss Granger…" He stared at the student who was advancing on him. "Are you…"
She slammed a book down on his desk and he glanced at it automatically.
"You lied to me!" She repeated furiously.
Flitwick read the passage she was pointing to and then closed his eyes slowly. It outlined the various kinds of soul bonds and their accompanying markings. There were even helpful pictures.
"It was never my intention…" He started but she wasn't listening to him.
"Is it true?" She asked, eyes looking red and wet.
He sighed, dropping back into his desk chair with a sigh.
"Yes," He told her seriously. "Miss Granger...Hermione, I am very sorry that I betrayed your trust like that but…"
"Do you have any idea what I...we've gone through because of you!"
"You were twelve!" Flitwick insisted seriously. "I didn't think it was appropriate to foist that kind of relationship on the three of you!" His voice rose in pitch to an almost piercing squeak.
Hermione dropped into a chair in front of his desk, hands coming up to cover her eyes.
"Miss Granger, I am terribly sorry and believe me, Minerva was furious with me when she found out what I'd done…"
The hands came away from her face and Hermione stared at the charms professor in horror.
"Minerva knew?" She breathed.
Flitwick froze.
"Ah…" He managed. "Miss Granger…" He paused as she shoved her bracelets off and let her bond marks bleed into view. They were pale grey and he sighed. "Is that why the bond is so weak?" She asked tremulously. "Is that what's wrong with this?"
"It's likely, yes?" He sighed unhappily.
"So, I don't really…" Hermione swallowed, wild-eyed and scared looking, "I only feel like this because of the bond?"
"NO!" Flitwick's shout startled her and she jumped in her seat. "If you have…" He blushed to the tips of his pointed ears and began to ring his hands nervously. "Feelings, for Mr and Mr Weasley then your feelings are your own."
Hermione scoffed, that part of her that was still that bratty, mistrustful eleven years old sparking away.
"How the hell am I supposed to trust you? You lied to me!"
I must admit I often think back to that day and wonder if I should have done something differently. But with the pressure of Umbridge and the return of You-Know-Who, I struggle to think of anything else I could have done.
Amelia Bones was addressing her troops. The assembled Aurors and prosecutors of the Department of Magical Law Enforcement watched her silently, some sneering quietly, some watching her warily.
"It has come to my attention," She started, voice low but clear. "That there is some disagreement in this department about our current threat level." Amelia had, since the Final Task of the Triwizard Tournament, set the threat level at high and had solidly refused to lower it ever since. "Some of you believe that we are acting solely on the grounds of unsubstantiated rumours." There was a quiet murmur at that, which Amelia pointedly ignored. A lot of the Department felt Amelia was wasting resources just because Harry was her step-son. "Let me clear that up for you. We have no proof that You-Know-Who has returned and that the Death Eaters are once again at large. However what we do have are a lot of coincidences that I do not like one bit." She met Kingsley's impassive gaze for a moment. "This Department has failed on several counts. We failed Bertha Jenkins and the students at Hogwarts when we allowed an insane murder to take up a teaching position there! We threw away a report of a break-in because the man was considered to be mad!" The Aurors who'd responded to Moody's call for help a year ago shifted unhappily. "This will go on no longer!" She roared and the assembled witches and wizards flinched. "The Minister for Magic disapproves of what he calls an "unnecessary worrying of the voting population"! Frankly I don't give a damn what Fudge says. He has no jurisdiction over this Department! I, however, do!" Amelia glowered at her Department and several of them started nodding. "We are a department of suspicious bastards and stubborn fact-checkers. Until I have substantial evidence that You-Know-Who has not returned we will remain on alert. We will be constantly vigilant and this Department will not fail another witch, wizard or muggle." Her eyes narrowed. "Am I understood?" She asked dangerously quiet.
As one her Department straightened and saluted.
"Yes, Madam Bones."
"Dismissed." She ordered.
The crowd split up and returned to work, all speaking in quiet hushed voices, occasionally sneaking glances at her.
"How was that?" Amelia asked her secretary under her breath.
Oleander Selwyn, the most frighteningly competent man Amelia had ever met, smiled at her.
"Certainly rousing."
The pair returned to Amelia's office, shutting the door behind them. Amelia flung herself into her office chair which wobbled worryingly but didn't tip over.
"I've got a stack of forms that need signing," Oleander deposited a pile of parchment in Amelia's "In" tray and seized the stack in her "Out" tray. "The Minister wants to arrange a meeting to discuss the budget for the department," Amelia swore creatively. "Mm, and Games and Sports wants to discuss security for the Cup Final this year…" Amelia rolled her eyes, already inking her quill and starting on the stack of forms in front of her. "And this," Oleander held out an envelope with a steady hand, "Arrived from Hogwarts."
Amelia dropped her quill and took the letter, frowning.
"Thank you, Selwyn," She murmured, frowning at the handwriting. "That will be all."
"I'll come and get you for your meeting about security arrangements at four." Selwyn left silently and Amelia grabbed the letter opener Moody had given her as a wedding present to slit open the envelope.
The blade was designed to render curses null, making it extremely useful. Amelia received an average of four pieces of cursed mail a week.
The blade remained inert, as she had expected it would. The chances of one of her children, especially Hermione, trying to curse her was extremely unlikely. Even if none of them had written since the start of term.
She spread the letter out and started to read, frowning at the places where the paper had crinkled as though it had gotten wet.
Aunt Amy,
I know I don't write to you often but I needed someone to talk to and I don't want to speak to Professor McGonagall right now.
I discovered something today while I was reading. Apparently the thing between the twins and I is not as platonic as I had been told. In fact it's not platonic at all.
And I…
I just… I don't know what to do! They've been trying so hard to fix what happened last year and they're my friends and I really care about them. But if this is true then everything we went through last year is a lie?
I thought my feelings for them were wrong because we were supposed to be just friends. I didn't understand why they felt that way about me if we were supposed to be platonic. What if the only reason we feel this way is because it's not platonic? Flitwick told me the reason it's so weak is because none of us have acted upon it. He said he didn't tell me at the beginning because it was too much pressure to put on a twelve year old. It's too much pressure to put on a sixteen year old!
What do I do? I've got to tell the Twins, but I don't know how they'll take it. What if they're mad? What if they don't want me anymore? What if they do?
I don't know how to be in a relationship or date or have a boyfriend or anything! Boyfriends! What am I supposed to do with two boyfriends when I've never even had one? I know I'm sixteen and I'm of age in the muggle world but I'm scared, Aunt Amy. I'm really scared.
I'm sorry about this, I know you're really busy at work at the moment, I just needed to talk to someone about this.
Sorry,
Hermione.
Donated by the Bones Family
Amelia stared at the letter in her hands and let out a long, slow breath. It was admittedly unusual that Hermione had come to her, but she was technically Hermione's step-mother which meant she clearly had a job to do. A job that probably didn't involve removing Hermione from Hogwarts and sending her to Beauxbatons just to keep her away from this entire sordid mess. Although that was a very tempting option.
Hermione,
Firstly, the advantage to having four parents is that you will always have someone to talk to. And myself, Sirius and Remus are never ever too busy to listen to one of our children. I'm fairly certain the same can be said for Minerva and you.
Secondly, Hermione, it will be okay. Nothing is ever as bleak as it seems, I promise you that. Just breathe for a moment. Go and ask Susan for a hug.
Thirdly, this is something the Twins deserve to know. You already know that that is the right thing to do. No matter your feelings on the matter, it is the honourable thing to do.
Fourthly, calm down. Just because your brother has decided that he'll be marrying Miss Lovegood the moment she graduates, doesn't mean you have to do the same. Harry has been raised on the idealism of commitment, fed stories of Lily and James' epic schoolyard romance since he was old enough to lift his own head. You have seen a much darker side of life and with that comes a very healthy dose of scepticism. You know I dated Sirius for almost twelve years before I felt comfortable letting him propose to me. (And no matter what your father may say, I LET him propose). It wasn't because I didn't love him, Hermione, I always have. It was a matter of trust. Marry Sirius meant changing my family, meant tying myself to another person in a way I could never undo. I was taking a leap of faith that it wouldn't backfire on me spectacularly. As horrible as it sounds some of it came to down to making sure I was strong enough to withstand it if he broke my heart, that breaking up with Sirius Black wouldn't break me.
You don't need to sign on for a life with them, hell kid, you don't even need to date them properly, no matter what extraneous forces may be saying. BUT, I think you should give them a chance.
Fifthly, as for HOW you give them a chance is up to you. And for that, I suggest you ask your father (who will throw a fit about his daughter asking him for dating advice but will actually probably try to help) or I would ask Susan (who will be impossible about the whole thing). Unfortunately, I can't help you very much in that regard. The most romantic thing I ever did was asking the girl I dated in Hogwarts if she wanted to get a butterbeer sometime. (Actually, that approach might suit you better)
Or you could arrest them. That's how I found my husband.
Write to me anytime, Hermione, I mean it. I signed on to be your step-mother and that's exactly what I'm going to do, work be damned.
Love,
Amelia Bones
Donated by the Bones Family.
The Twins and Harry returned to the common room by six o'clock, in seemingly high spirits. Fred and George were each hefting a large sack which they quickly rushed upstairs to hide in their dormitory. Harry made his way over to his sister, who was sitting in an armchair by the fire, examining a letter. She folded it away before he could read it and grumbled as Harry wedged himself into the same armchair, so they were both somehow sitting on each other.
"Hey!" He managed to wrap one arm around her shoulder and hugged her tightly. "How're you doing?"
"I spent the day in the library with Draco." She murmured, staring off into the flames. "Did some reading."
"Oh yeah?" Harry, in a rare and ostentatious display of wandless magic, summoned his school bag. "Accio. Here. I bought you some more sugar quills." He broke open the box and passed her one, which she chewed thoughtfully. "Just full of conversation, aren't you?"
"Mm." Said Hermione.
"Susan is furious at Umbridge, she was all for storming up to the Ministry and demanding her arrest." He yawned. "And the Twins really wanted to go back to the castle but they needed to stock up on ingredients. They're up to something big."
"Not so loud," Fred chided as he sat down on the sofa across from the pair. George dropped down next to him and smiled fondly at them. "You'll bring the whole castle down on us."
Hermione lifted her gaze from the fire and turned to stare at the Twins without saying anything. Fred shivered under her entirely empty gaze and tried to chase away the worry. Hermione only got like this when she was thinking very hard about something which never usually bode well for anyone.
"Hey, Amazon," George leaned forward and tapped her knee to get her attention. She jumped and blinked rapidly.
"Hey." She murmured, looking...Fred couldn't tell if that was fear or worry he was feeling from her. "We were thinking today that what Weasley's Wizards Wheezes really needs is our best charms..."
"...and potions…"
...and transfiguration…" George finished. "Mistress. That being you, if that wasn't clear."
Hermione looked from one twin to the other and seemed to come back to life a bit, a slight smirk curling the corner of her mouth.
"C'mon, 'mione," Fred pressed, leaning forward and grinning at her. "You know we're useless without you."
She arched one eyebrow and Harry covered his mouth to hide his laughter. Let it never be said that the Twins didn't know how to get through to their best friend.
"If we're going to do this," Hermione said as the three of them poured over a list of potential pranks and products. "We're going to need somewhere safe to set up shop."
"We've been thinking about that." George supplied. He rummaged in his pocket and pulled out the Marauder's Map. He must have borrowed it back from Harry. "There are several options. Several of the tunnels out of Hogwarts might be an option, they'd be pretty soundproof and hard to find. We might have to move every couple of weeks and we don't know who else knows about them."
"We can add extra passwords though," Fred pointed out.
"Or we could use an old classroom, there's some corridors in this castle that I'm fairly certain no one has been down in twenty years, at least. We could ward those pretty easily, but… It's not the most discrete."
"There's the second floor girls bathroom," Fred offered, "But if someone sees us going in there we're gonna get a bad reputation pretty fast."
"I think the tunnels might be our best bet," Hermione admitted, looking over the map. "At least to begin with. That one is caved in so we don't need to worry about someone coming from the other end,"
"But that also means we don't have an escape route." George pointed out.
"Yeah, people are going to figure out it's us pretty quickly." Fred tossed his hair, which would have been a much more impressive manoeuvre if it wasn't for his shorter haircut. "We do have a reputation for mayhem."
"You two do," Hermione murmured. "I have one for destruction." George snickered. "My other thought is this...The ministry is expecting everyone to fail their Defence exams, unless they honestly think she's teaching people properly. Now we've got two options, either we set up some kind of defense study group and find someone to teach us…"
"Like who?"
She grimaced.
"He was the best idea I could come up with," She nodded towards the fireplace where Harry was sprawled hedonistically across the sofa and tossing peanuts into his open mouth. Fred and George turned doubtful looks on her. "He's the Boy-Who-Lived," She rolled her eyes. "That carries a lot of weight, people would listen to him."
"What was your other idea?" Fred pressed.
A devious look crossed her face and both of the Twins blushed slightly. Hermione didn't seem to notice.
"Necessity is the genius behind innovation." She quoted. They looked blank. "Say we wanted them to learn...I don't know the bubble head charm." She tapped a line on their idea list that just said "extreme dungbombs!". "I'd say something like that would get them to learn pretty quickly."
Fred and George were just staring at her.
"What?" She asked nervously.
"Yeah," George grinned. "You're definitely our soulmate."
"You're bloody fantastic sometimes." Fred added, looking at her intently.
Hermione went a brilliant shade of red and ducked her head to look at the parchment.
It became immediately obvious that what with OWL's and NEWT's neither the Twins nor Hermione had enough time for the large scale production they were planning. So they roped in everyone they could think of. Everyone being: Lee Jordan, Susan, Luna, Harry and Draco (but only under supervision).
"We're a bit obvious." George murmured worriedly, looking around at their large group.
Susan snorted, looking over the list of instructions and time slots that they needed covered.
"What's she going to do?" She complained, marking the evenings she could drop by to stir potions, "Stop us from meeting in large groups?"
No one was very sure if Umbridge had caught wind of what they were planning, had simply disliked the look of a group that spanned all four houses sitting together or if she'd been planning it anyway.
Either way: Educational Decree Number Twenty Four was announced the next Monday. To the extreme horror of my Gobstones Club.
The Educational Decree didn't stop them, if anything it only made them more determined. Harry and Hermione became silent in Umbridge's classes. Hermione spent every spare moment she had in the Twins new lab situated behind an ornate mirror on the fourth floor. It was a large earthen cavern that they had smuggled some tables into. With no Quidditch practise until Umbridge gave Angelina permission to reform the team (which didn't seem likely with Harry and Hermione on the roster), they'd managed to make a big dent in the basic supplies that they needed. This particular Thursday evening it was just Hermione and Twins, moving from table to table, barely talking.
Hermione ducked under Fred's arm and moved smoothly over to the second of the three cauldrons she was supervising. She wasn't sure if it was the bond that gave her such awareness of where the Twins were or just because she'd known them for so long, but the three of them had a synergy when they worked together that she'd never achieved with anyone else. She leaned back and the packet of lemongrass that George threw to Fred passed a scant inch in front of her nose. Fred caught the vial she tossed to him a moment later without looking up and Hermione felt wild unbidden joy bubble up from her heart. The Twins picking up on it and echoing it back to her in double.
Her school bag, complete with the book from Fleur, got heavier every day.
Harry had snuck the bags down into the kitchens early that morning under his invisibility cloak, making sure he was seen waking up in the boys dormitory with the rest of the fifth year Gryffindors. They all made sure to be at breakfast on time that morning, Hermione could see Susan engaged in a seemingly serious conversation with McMillan across the hall, Draco had propped his book up on the jug in front of him and seemed entirely engrossed. Harry was the most convincing of all of them, but that was because Luna had joined them at the Gryffindor table that morning and he had probably completely forgotten that anything was about to happen.
Hermione didn't need to keep an eye on her watch, she could feel Fred's anticipation growing with each second and the moment the clock struck the half hour...
….flutter….
The problem they'd had, Hermione admitted quietly as she tried to look as confused as everyone else, was a shortage of supplies. The magic they could provide and they had stocked up on as much potions ingredients as they could feasibly afford, but base ingredients were a problem. Which was why the hoard of tiny pixies streaming from under the four tables were made predominantly of old textbook pages. All taken from various disused classrooms of course, although judging by the look on Madam Pince's face, that wasn't much consolation.
Students gasped as the thousands of tiny creatures fluttered into the air. The gasps of wonder turned to shrieks of concern as the pixies pulled tiny paper spears, tipped with wet ink from their quivers.
The screaming started not long after.
It took two days for an ink-splattered and desperate Ravenclaw to figure out the secret. Terrance Boot had roared expelliarmus at a pixie which had cornered him in the library. The news spread like wildfire and prefects and senior students started desperately coaching the younger years through the spell, desperate to end the bombardment and also to be left alone by the gaggle of first years that had taken to following older pupils around for protection. By Sunday there wasn't a single pixie left in the castle and Umbridge….Umbridge was furious.
We couldn't prove it had been the Weasley Twins, although they were heavily questioned. Personally, I was extremely impressed. The level of charm work required in something like that was immense, complex and time-consuming.
I was less enamoured of the lesson on the reducto spell and the Giant Slugs that came the next week.
Hogwarts had become an area of urban warfare, Harry decided. He ducked past a suit of armor which had come to life and was challenging various students to duels. A nervous-looking second year Hufflepuff shot this week's lesson, a Body-Bind Hex at the armor and it collapsed in a loud clatter. The Trio's plan was definitely working, and Umbridge had yet to figure out who was behind it. The only problem on the horizon at the moment was the Gryffindor Slytherin match on Saturday, which…
...would go awfully.
Hermione was in the stands with Susan and Luna, watching the match and cheering on her team. She never heard whatever it was that the Slytherin team said to the Gryffindors that caused Harry to throw himself at the opposing team, but it turned into a brawl when the Twins, who'd almost knocked her off her feet with their sudden blaze of fury, waged into the fight.
She watched helplessly in the stands as Umbridge threw all three of them off the team and confiscated their brooms, while the Slytherin team were let off the hook.
Hermione crashed into the changing rooms to find Angelina screaming herself hoarse at the three of them. Fred and George were clearly not listening, the same mulish expression on their faces as they clenched their teeth. They looked up as Hermione entered and winced.
"...I DON'T CARE IF THEY INSULTED YOUR GRANDMOTHER!" Angelina screamed. "YOU THREE REALISE THAT WE CAN'T WIN THE CUP NOW? DON'T YOU?"
"Oh shove off, Angelina." Fred snapped.
Harry shoved past all of them and headed for the showers. Angelina followed him, presumably to yell at him through the doors. The rest of the team, including Ron, looked exhausted and defeated. Ron opened his mouth to say something and Hermione cut across him.
"C'mon." She grabbed each of the Twins by the hand and refused to let them shake her off. "Walk it off."
They ended up walking the circuit around the lake, Hermione on barely keeping up with the boys' angry strides.
"Slow down," She huffed eventually. George glanced back at her and sighed, slowing just a touch. Fred didn't seem to hear her.
"What happened?" She asked George quietly.
He reached out and wrapped his arm around her shoulder, drawing her close to his side. Hermione went quietly, happy to provide whatever comfort she could.
"Flint. Git's not normally got enough brains to find his wand let alone come up with a decent taunt," It was the general opinion of Gryffindor that Marcus Flint was in fact half-troll. "Started saying somethin' pretty vile and we just kinda lost it."
Hermione had a feeling she knew who Flint had been talking about for both her brother and the Twins to lose it like that.
"I'm going to quit the team." She murmured and George tripped over a rock.
"What?"
The younger witch shrugged, shoving her hair out of her face.
"I only joined because I was bored and you two were on the team." The second was truer than the first although Hermione was loath to admit it. "'Sides, we're too busy right now."
"Angelina will kill you." He told her bleakly.
"No, she won't. I'm an okay chaser, in a pinch." Mostly because she liked lobbing objects at people. "But I'm no beater. Definitely not a seeker. She'll have to hold tryouts anyway."
"But…"
Hermione laughed at his mystified expression.
"I'm afraid of heights, did you know that?" She murmured. He gaped at her. "The only reason I got on a broom in the first place was because I spent ages in the library figuring out how they worked until I could probably make one myself," She paused to consider that, "I knew you two liked flying and I didn't want you to make fun of me, so I…" She shrugged, "powered through it."
She could feel his surprise and it seemed to burn away the last of his anger.
"Really?"
"Really." She watched Fred ahead of them. He'd started kicking at an unfortunate oak tree. She let out a long, deep breath and came to a decision. "There's a book you need to read. Remind me, will you?"
George gave her an odd look but nodded. He gave her one last squeeze and then released her.
"On you go," He gestured towards his brother. "He needs you more than I do right now."
"You two are very good at sharing," She muttered.
"Years of practice, Amazon." George winked and gave her a helpful shove forwards.
They fell into a kind of routine. The pranks grew more elaborate but the students began to grow wise. I had requests for defensive charms in my classes, the Ravenclaws formed study groups of their own in their common rooms where they couldn't be caught. Across the four houses, the students rose to the challenges that the Trio laid down. And they continued to not get caught. At the time the staff had their suspicions but they weren't about to help Umbridge in any way. Even Charity, who was by all accounts the nicest person you could hope to meet, hated Umbridge with a fierce passion. Although that may have been because Umbridge had spent her entire inspection quizzing her on whether or not Muggle Studies was a real subject.
"I'm gonna kill your brother!" Harry snarled as he threw himself on the bench. Hermione watched the Twins exchange resigned looks.
"You ah, heard about that, then?"
"Heard that he's been spreading rumours about how mad I am?" Harry raged, not showing a terribly convincing argument for his sanity. "Or how about how he's told everyone I wake up screaming?"
Fred sighed.
"Yeah, he's a little toe rag."
"Don't you have silencing charms?" Hermione asked, frowning at her brother. Harry grimaced.
"I forget sometimes. And then this fuckin' thing wakes me up," He rubbed at his scar angrily. "Because I can't practise occlumency in my freakin' sleep!" Both Harry and Draco had undergone lessons in guarding their minds over the summer at both Sirius' and Narcissa's insistence. "And now everyone thinks I'm going crazy."
He managed to tuck himself under Hermione's arm and leaned against her, sighing aggressively.
"Weasley's," He grumbled. "Can't live with them, can't plot revenge without them."
They had all signed up to their list to go home for Christmas. Everyone had. No one, it seemed, wanted to be left in the same castle as Umbridge. Even Draco was going to be spending Christmas in Grimmauld Place. Sirius hadn't wanted to risk Narcissa coming back into the country and he also hadn't wanted Draco alone in a castle where Dumbledore could try and recruit him.
"Miss Granger," McGonagall called as her last transfiguration lesson came to a close. "A word please."
Hermione, who'd been avoiding her adoptive mother for months now, reluctantly hung behind as the rest of the class filed out.
"Professor." She murmured.
Minerva looked tired, there was an almost permanent frown on her face now that hadn't been there before.
"This is regarding your plans for Christmas. You were intending to stay with Lord Black weren't you?"
"Yes." Hermione got that sinking feeling in her stomach again. Minerva had known what her Christmas plans were since June.
The older witch sighed heavily, one hand coming up to remove her spectacles.
"Professor Umbridge," She started and the sinking feeling got worse, "Wishes for you to remain at the school over the holidays."
Hermione dropped her bag.
"What?" She stared at Minerva. "She can't do that!" You can't let her do that!
"Unfortunately, she can. Professor Umbridge made the case that as you are a ward of the school, you would be best served to remain here. I tried pointing out that you traditionally go home with Mr Black for the holidays, but she wouldn't have it as Lord Black is known to consort with "inappropriate" types." Remus, Hermione substituted. "In order for your safety and wellbeing, anyone you stayed with would have to be vetted by the school and…" She ground her teeth. "Surprise checkups might be in order."
Which wouldn't be possible, Hermione realised. The security of Grimmauld Place couldn't be compromised like that and with the Weasley's staying there too, there was nowhere else she could go.
"Professor Dumbledore had to acquiesce the matter." Minerva finished, looking sorrowful.
Hermione stared up at her, feeling tears starting to burn at the corners of her eyes.
"But, I'm not a ward of the school." She hissed furiously.
"I know that." The older witch looked defeated and furious all at the same time. "But questions would be asked regarding your particular circumstances and the last thing we need is Umbridge becoming aware of them." She relented. "I am very sorry, Hermione."
"Yeah," Hermione said numbly, "I know."
Hermione still hadn't found a way to tell the Twins she wasn't spending Christmas with them when she'd awoken two days before the end of term to second-hand terror. It was late and the darkness of her dormitory was almost cloying as she tried to work out what was wrong. It wasn't her. The Twins then. Moving as quietly as she could she snuck out of the girls' tower and into the rooms. The only occupant of the Seventh year dorm was an irritable Lee Jordan.
"Oh yeah. The whole house might as well come through here." He grumbled.
"What's happened?" Hermione demanded, rounding on him. He glared at her through his dreadlocks.
"McGonagall came and got 'em half an hour ago. I've got no idea why. Somethin' to do with Black."
Hermione whirled and stormed down to the fifth year dorm.
Seamus was the only one still awake and he squeaked when Hermione stormed into his bedroom. Two empty beds.
Ignoring the indignant wizard Hermione rushed over to Harry's trunk and rummaged through it until she found the map.
"Night, Finnegan," She said absently as she left.
"Bloody hell." Said Seamus.
In the light of the fireplace, Hermione looked over the map keenly. The Headmaster's office was almost full, both McGonagall and Dumbledore standing in front of Harry and the rest of the Weasley family. Hermione watched nervously as one by one they all vanished from the map, leaving the two teachers behind. Even without the map she would have known that they'd left. The bright burning feel of them in her mind suddenly went dim. Still connected, but tenuously.
"What happened!" Susan ambushed Hermione outside of the portrait hole several hours later.
Hermione gaped at her.
"How do you even know? It's barely even seven o'clock!"
Susan shrugged.
"I know people. Where's have the Weasley's gone? And Harry?"
"I honestly have no idea." Hermione let her cousin tow her down towards the Great Hall. "I imagine it's nothing good though."
"We'll find out tomorrow then," Susan decided grimly. Their parents had long since ceased sending any real information by owl. The concern that the mail was being read was too great. "About that…" Hermione murmured. "I'm not coming back with you." Susan stopped and stared at her. "Umbridge has me under castle arrest."
Susan swore in gobbledygook. Hermione just let her tire herself out. Some twenty minutes later Susan, who'd settled close into Hermione's side at the Gryffindor table, calmed down enough to say, "I'll stay behind with you."
Hermione gaped at her.
"No. Absolutely not. You need to go home and figure out what's going on. Make sure Harry's okay. I'll be with Minnie, it'll be fine." Probably. Susan glared at her and Hermione rallied quickly. "I've got the mirrors, it'll be fine."
"Does Dad know?" Susan asked.
"Probably." Hermione sighed. "It's Dad."
The red-head seemed to be thinking heavily.
"This is the last time this gets in the way." Susan snapped. "I'm tired of people using this against you. I'll formally adopt you as a Bones if I have to."
Hermione chuckled.
"Can you even do that?"
Susan pulled her bulging address book out of her bag. Hermione's eyes widened as she noted that each individual page was dedicated to a single person and contained an unnerving amount of detail about that individual. Susan flipped past what looked like half the seventh year Beauxbatons and Durmstrang before she came to rest on a page filled with cramped writing. "I'm the heir of the House I can do what I want."
Hermione scanned the entry.
"Is that a lawyer?" She frowned. "You're fifteen. Why do you have a lawyer?"
"Why don't you?" Susan parried.
Hermione read some more of the writing.
"Why do you have blackmail on your lawyer?" She asked in an awed whisper.
Susan shrugged.
"It's a good habit to get into."
"Here," Hermione handed over the last of the Christmas presents she'd been intending to give in person over to Susan who stashed them in her trunk. The rectangular package was neatly wrapped in bright orange paper. She let out a nervous breath. "This is for the Twins. Just...make sure you give it to them when they're alone."
Susan stared her down for a long moment.
"You've decided something." She announced.
Hermione shrugged.
"Maybe."
A/N Hey,
long time no see. 13,000 word chapter isn't bad is it?
Let me know what you think.
H