It was quick and fleeting, a press of soft lips against hers. Fred drew back a bare inch, nose brushing against hers as she stared up at him. Hermione could feel her cheeks flushing bright red and Fred grinned at her, before ducking back down and kissing her again. She could feel her his smile against her lips and she pressed into the kiss this time. He moved away and she felt a soft kiss on the side of her neck before George turned her to face him.
"You okay?" He asked, one hand lifting to frame her face. She could still feel Fred right behind her. Had he always radiated so much heat?
Hermione couldn't seem to find any words so she nodded once.
George moved slower than his brother, keeping his eyes locked with hers. He'd always been less impulsive.
Hermione lifted up onto her toes, meeting him halfway and kissing him gently. Fred's hands flexed on her waist, she could feel his breath against the back of her neck, even as she revelled in the feeling of George's lips against hers.
It was unusual. It wasn't strange but it wasn't fireworks and explosions and all those things that the novels Sirius secretly hoarded in the library spoke about. It was...It was like Hermione had been lost and scared and she finally felt safe enough to come home again. And that terrified her all the more.
George stepped away and the two of them stared at her intently.
"Erm," Hermione managed.
George glanced over her shoulder and made a face.
"You think?" He muttered, rolling his eyes.
"Shut up," Fred murmured into her shoulder.
"Should we…" Hermione wasn't certain she could blush harder than she already was, but her face was giving it her best bet. "Talk about this?"
"Probably," George admitted sheepishly.
"You're going to need to let me go then," Hermione pulled against Fred's hold and was relieved when he instantly let go. "I can't think when..." She trailed off, embarrassed.
"Are we too distracting?" Fred teased, but he moved to lean against one of the tables anyway.
Hermione started to pace in front of them, wringing her hands.
"I'm not good with uncertainties," She said, at last, feeling the flush in her cheeks slowly start to fade. "I need to know what the rules are."
George chuckled.
"Yeah, we know 'Mione."
Hermione turned a challenging look on him and he smirked at her.
"So what are the rules?" She demanded.
Fred, surprisingly, stepped in.
"Let's start with something easy. Are you our girlfriend?"
She froze and Fred watched, slightly bemused, as her mind visibly worked overtime.
"Yes?" She offered eventually.
"Good. Then we're your boyfriends."
Her eyes widened slightly and he waited patiently for her to think that one through.
"Yes." She said, sounding slightly surer.
"I think we can agree to that one," Fred teased, and Hermione scowled at him.
"And it's just the three of us," George added, slightly more seriously. "We're not seeing anyone but you and you're not seeing anyone but us. Is that okay?"
Hermione gave him a withering look.
"I've not even worked out how to have two boyfriends," She grumbled. "I don't want to add anyone else to the mix."
"Good." George's relaxed expression might be fooling Hermione, but Fred knew his own face. Possessive git.
"What about you?" Fred insisted. "You got anything you want to be cleared up?"
Hermione seemed to be trying to decide whether to say something, indecision coming clearly across her bond. Finally, she set her jaw and glared at a point somewhere between the pair of them.
"I'm not promising you forever." She said shortly.
The Twins exchanged a glance over her head. They'd talked about this after she'd rejected them the last time. Hermione's confusion and rejection of pureblood traditions had been fairly obvious.
"We're not expecting you to," George promised and she jerked and stared at him, amazement flooding through the bond. "The three of us, we come from pretty different places. If our mum found out about this she'd probably start planning a wedding," Hermione paled dramatically and George hurried on, "And I'm guessing if your parents found out, your real parents, Hermione, I guess they…"
"They'd think you were just my high school sweethearts," Hermione finished, smiling sadly. "They wouldn't be expecting it to last for more than a year." She laughed. "Dad used to say I wasn't allowed to even look at boys until I'd graduated uni and started my own practise."
"Which would make you how old?" Fred asked with morbid curiosity.
Hermione smirked at him.
"Oh, about thirty."
Fred baulked and Hermione burst into loud cackling laughter.
"Our point," George insisted, over the sound of Fred's groaning and Hermione's giggles. "Is that there's no reason we have to do either of those things. We can just take it one day at a time."
"And you two don't expect," Hermione stumbled over her words for a moment before eventually deciding on, "More?"
"We're all still at Hogwarts," Fred grinned at her. "We don't have to worry about it, okay?"
She seemed to think about that before she relaxed and nodded.
"Okay. I can do that." She tensed up again. "And what about the rest of…" She blushed and catching her train of thought, so did the Twins. "...it."
"As slow as you like," George assured her. He stepped forward and hugged her tightly. "This is enough for us right now."
"There's one more thing," Hermione murmured, slightly muffled. "It's about my family. Harry's got everyone against him." She stepped backwards to glare at both of them. It didn't faze them, they were well used to her prickly nature. "My family comes first in my priorities. Then you. I can't…" She choked slightly. "I can't lose another family. I just can't."
Fred pushed away from the table and bent slightly so he could pull her against him.
"That we understand, believe us." He dropped a kiss onto her forehead. "And it's fine. We're big wizards, we can look out for ourselves."
"And," George added wrapping his arms around her waist, "We can look out for you too."
"Yeah," Fred teased. "I dunno if you've noticed but you are shit at looking after yourself."
"Shut up!" Hermione groaned, but she pillowed her head on Fred's shoulder.
He'd honestly never thought he'd be this happy. At least not at school. Fred leaned against the wall of their workroom, Hermione's head against his shoulder, her fingers laced with his. George sat on her other side, holding her hand and smiling softly at nothing in particular. Fred honestly couldn't blame him, he wasn't sure he'd ever be able to stop grinning. Outside this dingy collapsed corridor, the world was falling to pieces and they seemed to be in the middle of it all. But right now, he had everything he ever needed. His brother, his soulmate and a room full of explosives.
"We should get back soon," George murmured.
"Killjoy," Fred accused sleepily. Against his shoulder, Hermione laughed quietly.
"Not just yet," She promised, tugging George slightly closer to her.
The bond, which had been pulled taught and brittle over the Christmas break, seemed relaxed and calm. Fred could feel Hermione's contentedness seeping into him and he hummed quietly as a thought occurred to him.
"Here," He let go of Hermione's hand and tugged both of their bracelet's off. She didn't protest and that said volumes about her currant levels of comfort. "Huh," He said.
The pattern, the solid black that it almost always was on Fred, twisted down his forearm and around his middle finger where it seemed to leap onto Hermione's hand. Her marks weren't quite the same shade, but they were the darkest grey he'd seen since her second year. George, leaning over to look did the same on her other side and they both held her hands watching as the pattern seemed to flow from Fred, through Hermione and onto George.
"Would you look at that," George breathed.
Hermione, whose silence would have been worrying if Fred couldn't feel her emotions, let out a long slow sigh and leaned against George's shoulder, closing her eyes.
Harry waited for Hermione at the foot of the girl's staircase, pacing nervously.
"Harry?" She had shadows under her eyes and Harry was fairly certain she hadn't looked in a mirror yet because her hair was a state, but she didn't seem upset. Or at least, no more faintly annoyed than she usually was. Some of the nerves in Harry's stomach settled.
"Morning." He grabbed her wrist and hauled her over to the pair of ratty armchairs set away in the quietest corner. Hermione let him, probably because she was still half asleep.
"So!" He asked excitedly, "What happened?"
Hermione stared at him blankly and he took the opportunity to pull a brush from his pocket and start working on Hermione's hair. She submitted to this without blinking, which really said a lot about the Black family.
"With the Twins?" She queried, yawning.
"YES!" He hissed.
"Oh, we're together now." Hermione blinked slowly and then seemed to wake up really quickly. "Oh shit."
Harry chuckled, working the worst of the snarls out with his brush.
"So…"
"You're an awful gossip," Hermione snapped irritably, but she turned in the armchair so Harry could start pinning her hair back. "And we're...I've got," Her jaw worked slightly for a moment. "They're my boyfriends." She finished in a whisper.
"Are you happy?" He asked, serious now. If she was just doing this because she thought she ought to…
"Yeah," Hermione sighed. "I am. Terrified, but happy."
He tied off her braids.
"Good. Dad's going to…"
"DO NOT TELL DAD!" Hermione whipped round so fast she almost knocked him off his perch on the armrest and Harry smirked at her.
"Why not?" He asked innocently. "Wouldn't your doting fathers like to know that their only daughter…"
"...They have Susan…" She grumbled.
"...Sirius' heir, their favourite muggle born..."
"...I'm the only muggleborn!" Hermione snapped.
"...has entered into a committed relationship with two other wizards?"
"If you tell Dad," Hermione warned, glowering at him, "I will set Luna up with a nice Hufflepuff boy. Susan will help."
Harry grinned.
"You're in a bad mood for someone who claims to be happy. But," He raised his hands in surrender. "I won't tell Dad."
He let Hermione go on ahead for breakfast and then ran to tell Susan who sent the letter for him. He loved technicalities.
Luckily for Hermione, it was Sunday, and classes wouldn't start until the following day, leaving her with some free time. The Twins seemed to be both amused and annoyed about something, which didn't bode well for Hogwarts in general but was probably fine for her to ignore for the moment. She had something else she wanted to do.
"Er… Professor?" She knocked cautiously at the entrance to Minerva's office.
"Enter!" Minerva called sharply.
Nervously Hermione did, stepping into the small office and hovering nervously in front of Minerva's desk.
"What is it?" Her adoptive mother looked up and blinked. "Hermione? Is everything all right?"
"Yes?" Minerva gestured to a spare chair and Hermione sat down on the edge of it. "I was wondering if I could talk to you about some things." She noticed the large pile of parchment on the desk and winced. "Sorry, you're probably really busy. I shouldn't have…"
"Hush." Minerva got up from her desk and swept over to the fireplace. "I am never too busy to talk to you." She filled the kettle with her wand and set it over the fire before dropping down into one of the armchairs by the hearth and smiling.
Hermione blinked at her in amazement. Sometimes, her new family really took her by surprise.
"Er." She managed. "Right. So I had some questions. And you don't have to answer them but, I was just curious and…"
"Breathe, Hermione," Minerva ordered, visibly amused.
Hermione did so and spent a moment with her eyes closed. She concentrated on the bonds, which felt contented and mischievous and she got the feeling that her Twins were up to something.
"Draco was concerned that I didn't know how to act like a pureblood," She started, slowly. "And he was teaching me about bloodlines and he showed me yours."
For a moment, Minerva just watched her, eyes narrowed behind her spectacles.
"Ours." The older woman said eventually. "It is your bloodline too if you want it."
Hermione flushed slightly.
"Right," She managed, feeling somewhat staggered by the offer. "And I was wondering if you would tell me about them." Hermione paused again, unsure if her next words were wise. "The book said... The book said you were married. Once."
Minerva's eyes closed and then she opened them and smiled slowly. It was a bittersweet smile, neither very happy nor very sad.
"I was." The kettle began to whistle and she flicked her wand to summon the teapot. "And I would be happy to tell you about them."
Minerva had indeed been born to a muggle father, something Hermione would never have guessed. She told her about growing up in a house where magic was repressed and how, when she had to make the same choice her mother had made, she chose magic over love.
"I went to become an Auror." She shrugged. "Both my brothers were Ministry officials, it seemed to be a good fit. I was good at it too."
"And your husband?" Hermione pressed, curious.
"I met him in the Department. He was my superior. When I cam to work at Hogwarts, he proposed to me."
"Were you dating?" Hermione asked, sipping from her teacup. Minerva snorted.
"No."
"He just asked you out of the blue?"
"Elphinstone was an eternal optimist," Minerva said dryly. "And the times have changed a lot since then. It wasn't that unusual. But at the time I was still heartbroken from Dougal and I said no." She paused and smiled. "As I did for the next seven proposals."
Hermione gaped at her.
"He proposed eight times?"
"An optimist, as I said. It was only after the war was over and we lost all those people, my brothers, the Potters and Dougal," She smiled sadly at Hermione's gasp. "An Anti-Muggle attack. He just happened to be very unlucky. Well, by that point, I was getting on in years and I realised I really didn't want to be alone any more. I'd lost everyone else and anyone could be next. So when he asked for the ninth time, I said yes." She chuckled. "I'd never seen him look so surprised. He had been asking me for over twenty years."
"Did you love him?" Hermione asked, nervously tugging at her bracelets.
Minerva smiled as though she was reliving a fond memory.
"I did. Not in the same way, I loved Dougal, but then no two loves are quite the same. As long as it makes you happy, that's all that matters. We had three years together. Not as long as I would have liked but I cherish every day that I got." She narrowed her eyes at Hermione. "Sometimes you never know what's going to happen and if it will make you happy, there isn't much sense in waiting."
Hermione sighed heavily and rolled her eyes. That wasn't so much a subtle dig as a shovel to the face.
"I'm going out with the Twins." She imparted shyly.
Minerva made a strange noise which sounded awfully like squeal that had been hastily turned into a cough.
"And is it making you happy?" She asked sternly.
Hermione thought about it. The bond was the calmest it had ever been and Hermione...Hermione felt excited and giddy. Like she'd told Harry. Terrified but excited.
"Yes. Yes, it is."
"Well then, carry on." She paused and then added. "As long as the three of you are being careful…"
"We always have our bracelets on…" Hermione caught Minerva's drift. "Minnie!"
"What?" Minerva sipped her tea, although there was mischief dancing in her eyes. "I was Arthur and Molly's Transfiguration teacher you know. Do you know how many times I found them in…" She paused and sniffed. "...indelicate positions in broom cupboards?" And in a variety of other places.
"Aunt Minnie!" Hermione whined, slouching in her chair and hiding her face behind her hands.
Minerva giggled at the girl's discomfort and helped herself to another biscuit.
Hermione was pouring over a spellbook in their workshop when the Twins found her again, around midday. She was frowning and making notations in one of their notebooks and she barely glanced up when they entered. Fred was pretty certain she knew they were there, though. Her ears were getting incredibly red.
"Hi," She managed.
"Hey, Amazon," George greeted. Without really talking about it, they both took up their customary positions on either side of her, but both of them kept a fair bit of space between them, careful not to crowd her.
"What cha working on?" Fred asked, peering at the book which seemed to be about wizarding lighting systems.
"I had a thought," She murmured, chewing on the end of her pencil. Her fingers were a dusty grey, which meant she'd been at work for a while. "Do you know about the miner's strikes of the 1970's?"
They exchanged a confused look.
"No."
"It's a muggle thing. There were these huge power cuts as a result," She glanced up at them and visibly tried to put this into terms they would understand. "You know that electricity that your dad is always going on about?"
"Yeah,"
"Well, that is what powers muggle lights." Instead of the wizarding system which seemed to involve a lot of complicated rune work. "So when the electricity stopped, the lights went out. Okay?"
"Okay?" George wasn't sure where she was going to this.
"So these blackouts happened constantly and without warning. It was chaos. And I was thinking, what if we did the same thing here?"
"What about the first years?" Fred asked grimly. He had his arms folded, frowning at her notes.
"What?" Hermione asked confused.
"The first years. They might be scared of the dark."
George and Hermione seemed to think about this.
"The blackouts wouldn't be very long. Ten seconds at most." She offered. "Enough to disrupt lessons."
"We could sell self-lighting candles?" George suggested.
"We're not profiting off a problem we caused, especially not with scared eleven-year-olds." Hermione insisted, chewing on her lip. "What if it was just a few corridors? That way people could avoid them if they wanted."
"And when you say a few corridors…" Fred pressed, grinning, "You mean the ones around Umbitch's office and classroom?"
"Did you come up with that name all by yourself?" Hermione asked, grinning. He shrugged. "But yes. A maybe a few others. And they wouldn't be dark all the time. Just...enough to cause chaos."
"But how would we do it?" George asked. He stepped up closer, peering at the spell book. "We're talking about rune disruption on a massive scale, there must be dozens of these things in each corridor." He reached out and wrapped one arm around Hermione, tucking her close against him. She was so distracted by the problem in front of them, Fred doubted she even noticed. "We could try Peruvian Instant Darkness powder?"
"What's that?" Hermione asked as Fred stepped up to her other side.
"It's a powder that causes instant darkness," George explained, rolling his eyes. "Comes from some cave in Peru. I was planning to import some to stock in the shop. Only problem is getting some into the castle."
"We could try and make something similar." Hermione glanced up at the two of them and chewed her lip. "It would be tricky, we don't have any to work back from."
"Sounds like a plan," Fred announced, nodding as he ran through the various combinations they could try.
Hermione beamed at them, and then rose onto her toes and kissed them both.
Suffice to say that they weren't successful in reverse engineering Peruvian Instant Darkness powder, although they certainly tried. Eventually they settled on a way to disrupt the runic arrays which ran the lighting system at Hogwarts, ensuring that flames sprang up and lanterns lit whenever a student or teacher passed. At the time they didn't realise they were doing anything extraordinary. It wasn't until I demanded, years later, that they walk me through the mechanics of the charmwork that I realised how special it was. Most wizards and witches struggle to combine their magic because it is so individual. You can have several wizards running several different spells on the same focus and you can have a single wizard string a chain of spells together into one strong complicated magic, but you cannot have several magic users weave spells together. Their magic is too different. Unless...they are soul bonded.
Fred, George and Hermione were producing some of the most complex and advanced charm work of the century….And they were using it to TURN OUT THE LIGHTS!
The new term started badly. Hagrid was back, which cheered up some people until they realised how bruised he was. The largest prison break in Azkaban's history was reported in the Prophet, terrifying many of the students. A Department of Mysteries Unspeakable that the Order had been keeping an eye on, was murdered via Devil's Snare. And Fred and George received the following letter.
Boys,
We are thrilled to hear that the three of you have finally sorted things out. The three of you have a long and tricky road ahead of you and we honestly wish you the best.
That said,
Prongslet may be the Son of the Marauders, but Twist is certainly our daughter. We meant what we said last time. You two cock this up and you'll never see her again, souls be damned. We will unleash a fury so terrible you won't even live to see her revenge.
All the best!
Padfoot and Moony
(Donated by the Black Family)
"Well, that's a lot of pressure," Fred muttered to his brother.
"No kidding,"
"I am going to kill them!" Yelled Hermione, who had apparently been reading over their shoulders. "Harry!" She roared and her brother, sitting further up the breakfast table, paled dramatically.
"Yes, Hermione?" He offered innocently.
"You said you wouldn't tell him!" She yelled.
"I didn't!" Harry yelped.
"I did," Susan plucked the letter from George's slack hand and read it, Draco a silent and irritated shadow over her shoulder. "And I'll give you the same warning from me and Aunt Amy," She added, glaring at the Twins icily.
"Susan!" Hermione shouted, furious.
Her cousin shrugged.
"What? I do love you dearly, Hermione."
"I personally, would be more than happy for an excuse to get rid of the two of you," Draco murmured, only loud enough that the Twins and Susan could hear him. "She will have much better prospects if she ends up with someone more suitable. So make sure you don't give me an opportunity."
"Shut up, Malfoy!" Fred snapped, drawing Hermione's attention back to them.
"Really?" She snapped, glaring at Draco. "You too? I'm not some fucking princess in a fucking tower! I can look after myself!"
"Twenty points from Gryffindor for inappropriate language!" The group froze and turned as one to glare at Umbridge who smiled at them all. "I know its hard for you Miss Granger, but you will act like a lady in this castle."
Hermione visibly ground her teeth.
"Yes, Professor." She spat out.
"Now run along!"
The group dispersed and the Twins tugged Hermione down to sit between them.
"I think not!" Umbridge tittered. "Boys and girls should keep at least six inches between them at all times. Other side of the table, Miss Granger."
With ill grace Hermione got up and stomped around to the other side, sitting between Parvati and Lavender, who looked faintly surprised to see her until they spotted Umbridge.
Fred tried to hide his grin when he felt Hermione hook her ankle around his.
"Sorry, Professor." She insisted, smiling broadly.
Umbridge narrowed her eyes but continued on her way to the top table.
"Educational Decree No. 26," Parvati explained sorrowfully, before turning away to talk to Fay Dunbar.
The Twins exchanged a look before turning to smirk at Hermione who still looked faintly pissed off.
"What do you say, 'Mione?" Fred teased.
"Fancy breaking an Educational Decree with us?" George added, winking.
"I'm sitting right here, guys!" Harry complained loudly as his sister went bright red.
To Sirius and Remus' credit, they sent very similar letters to both Susan and Harry's future partners. They might have been ludicrously overprotective, but at least they didn't discriminate between their children.
Also, Educational Decree No.26 was destined for failure. There was nothing like telling Fred and George they couldn't do something to make them want to do it. Especially if they had been planning on doing it anyway. Besides, there's nothing like telling teenagers to stay away from one another to cause trouble. It's just as well contraceptive charms were added to the school years ago.
"What did you two do to Harry?" Hermione demanded later that week.
Fred and George, who was closing the passageway behind him, began to look innocent.
"Nothing,"
"Why?" George added suspiciously.
"Because he can't look at me without going bright red." She scowled and then threw up her hands. "You know what? I honestly don't want to know."
"Probably best," George leaned down and kissed her quickly. He stepped back and delighted in the pink tinge to her cheeks. "How're those babbling brew's coming on?"
"Fine. You need to turn down the heat in a few minutes." She stretched up onto her toes and kissed Fred nervously.
"Mm," He grinned at her. "Hi,"
Hermione giggled.
"Hello."
"Oi," George warned. "We've got potions to make. We can flirt with 'Mione later."
Fred pouted at her.
"He always ruins my fun," He complained to her.
Hermione rolled her eyes and shoved him helpfully in the right direction.
"That can wait. We'll need the three of us to get those sweets set in time, however."
They worked for about an hour, producing enough Nattering Nougats to feed the whole school, followed by the necessary stock replenishment for the shop. Weasley's Wizard Wheezes ran the entire Hogwarts black market, and with students bringing replenished coin purses in from home after Christmas, their stock was flying off the metaphorical shelves.
"How are sales going?" Hermione asked.
George, who handled the accounts for Weasley Wizard Wheezes, snorted.
"We made back all of the money we lost to Bagman. With the generous investment from our benefactor, we should be able to afford the shop on Diagon soon. If our current sales rate continues, we should be turning a profit by the time you're seventeen. Before even. And that's even considering the split between the three of us."
Hermione blinked at him.
"All three of us?"
He grinned at her.
"Yeah. Head of Idiot Proofing at WWW, Hermione Granger."
"Head of Deviousness at WWW." Fred chimed in, not looking up from the cauldron he was stirring.
"Assistant in Research and Development," Hermione corrected, before shaking her head. "No, this is crazy. The shop is your thing and…"
"And we wouldn't have gotten this far without you," George laced their hands together. "And some of the stock is exclusively your work. You deserve credit for it." He kissed her temple gently and then moved away. "We're not arguing with you about this. But, if you want, when we set up the shop properly we'll sort out the paperwork so you're officially a partner. That way it's all legal."
Hermione gaped at him.
"That's not... I don't…"
"I have a question!" Fred declared, taking his cauldron off the heat and turning to face the both of them.
Hermione lost her train of thought which was probably his intention. She sighed heavily and hopped up onto one of the work tables.
"What's your question?" She asked tiredly.
"How open do you want to be about this?" He gestured between himself, her and George who was leaning against the wall, frowning slightly. "Because you know us, we'll shout it from the rooftops."
"He will," George countered.
Fred scowled at him.
"Oh yeah, because you're so understated."
George stuck out his tongue.
Hermione grinned to herself, twisting her hands in the hem of her jumper.
"You know," She said quietly. "Someone once told me that the reason boys didn't talk to me was because you scared off anyone who looked twice at me." She looked up to see that they'd frozen in the middle of pulling ridiculous faces at each other. "But that wouldn't be true would it?"
Fred turned slowly.
"It might not be untrue?" He offered.
"And to be fair to us," George added, looking slightly nervous. "At the time we didn't really know why we were doing it?"
"Apparently we don't share well." Fred murmured.
Hermione raised one eyebrow.
"Aside from with each other." He corrected.
She laughed to herself.
"It's okay."
"You're not mad?" George asked cautiously.
Hermione shrugged.
"If anyone was really determined, it wouldn't have put them off. And it's not like I was interested in anyone."
"Good," George grumbled quietly. Fred rolled his eyes.
"That doesn't answer my original question though." He pressed. "Are we telling people?"
"Well," She thought about it. "My family already know, as that irritating display at breakfast on Monday demonstrated. Do you want to tell your family?"
They exchanged a wary look.
"If we tell mum," George pointed out. "She'll go...a little overboard."
"But we might tell Bill and Charlie," Fred considered it. "That way we've got someone on our side. Might tell Dad too."
"He's remarkably good at keeping things from mum," George added thoughtfully.
"What about Ron and Ginny?" Hermione asked, wisely not mentioning Percy's name. "I don't really know Ron but Ginny…"
"What about Ginny?" Fred asked curiously.
"Your sister hates me," Hermione stated bluntly.
"That's not…" George paused. "Yeah, that's probably true."
"She slapped me once," Hermione added in a mutter, that wasn't quiet enough for Fred to miss.
"She did what!"
Hermione winced.
"She...uh...It was in fourth year. She thought I was cheating on you with Victor. She was just protecting you." She added unhappily.
George scowled.
"Although," Hermione added hastily, keen to change the subject. "It does bring up a potential solution. Everyone already thinks we're together. Angelina and Katie actually asked my permission to go to the Yule Ball with you. They wanted me to know that they were definitely going "As friends"." She made quotation marks around the words. "So do we really need to tell anyone?"
"That explains a lot," Fred realised. He'd always wondered why Angelina had been so shocked when he'd asked her.
"So how about we don't tell people," George suggested. "And just let them assume what they like. Keeps us under Umbridge's radar too."
"What about…" Fred paused, "Educational Decree No.26?" He teased, grinning.
"Not in public," Was all Hermione had to say on that matter.
Educational Decree No. 27 was entirely my fault, I am proud to say. I was asked by one of my third year Ravenclaw's if the Death Eaters who had escaped Azkaban would come to Hogwarts. I didn't know what else to say so I assured her that as long as Dumbledore remained as Headmaster, the school was perfectly safe from Death Eaters and You-Know-Who alike. Unfortunately Umbridge was overseeing this one of my classes and the Decree banning teachers from talking to students about anything not related to their subject passed the next day.
The feeling within the castle began to change. The Azkaban escape had frightened many students, and a lot of them, despite the Prophet's best efforts, began to put more stock in Harry's story of the Third Task. Much to Harry's considerable annoyance.
"Why don't people understand that I just don't want to talk about it?"
"Because people are awful and nosy," Hermione murmured, more interested in her charms essay.
"Half the school still thinks I've gone mad," He added irritably.
"Mm," said Hermione helpfully.
"I wonder…" said Susan and the Black siblings froze, glancing up at their cousin. Nothing good ever came from that tone.
"What?" Hermione asked warily.
Susan considered them both.
"It seems to me, what we have here is a public relations problem. Although the Prophet hasn't named Harry by name," Because Sirius Black had a lawyer by the name of Alphonzo, who was both incredibly pale and incredibly bloodthirsty, who terrified the editors at the Prophet. "Everyone knows they're talking about him. And the Ministry controls the Prophet so people are only getting one perspective on things."
"What's your point?" Harry demanded, slouching in his chair.
"My point," Susan leaned forward conspiratorially. "Is we need to give people a balanced argument. It's all very well the Order working as a secret organisation, but that's hardly helping or informing the masses. If all the wizarding world has to go on is the word of the Prophet how can they come to their own decisions?"
"So what do you want me to do?" Harry demanded.
Susan smiled.
"I want you to tell your story to a credible person, and I want to get it published."
Hermione scoffed.
"The Prophet won't publish an interview that goes against the Ministry."
"No, they won't." Susan nodded her head to a nearby library table where a familiar head of white blonde hair was doodling in a notebook. "But isn't it lucky that we know the daughter of the editor of the third most popular wizarding magazine."
"Oh, shit." Harry groaned.
"What I want to know is why Susan has blackmail on Rita Skeeter?" George questioned.
"I don't want to know." Hermione murmured as she carefully measured out lemongrass. "I really don't. She has blackmail on almost everyone."
"Kinda scary your Susan."
"Yep."
"Not as scary as you, mind." George grinned at her when she scowled.
"He's doing the interview on the Hogsmeade trip next week." She straightened and tipped the weighed ingredients into the already bubbling cauldron. It bubbled and turned a pearlescent olive green.
"That's the Valentine's trip isn't it?" George asked casually.
"Yeah," Hermione paused and glanced over her shoulder at him warily. "You two aren't going to do anything are you?"
He leaned over her to stir the potion and add the dried beetles he'd be chopping.
"Does that sound like us?"
She glared at him.
"Yes, it does, George."
He grinned at her and she scowled.
"Yeah, all right it does. But," He kissed her quickly. "It doesn't really sound like you. So we figured we'd probably hold off on the parade." Hermione paled and he laughed. "But we were thinking about how annoying No.26 has been."
"It hasn't stopped you in the slightest." Hermione pointed out seriously.
"Well, no." He rolled his eyes. "But a lot of people have been missing their significant others. And Fred thought we might play messenger."
Hermione glared at him for a moment before she relented with a smile.
"Show me the plans."
It amazes me that the Twins were as restrained as they were. I remember Lockhart's attempt at Valentine's celebrations, and by comparison this was remarkable classy. I suspect this was Hermione's influence. We awoke to a castle filled with the gentle scent of roses. Garlands of paper roses which bloomed in the sunlight were twisted over every banister and around every window. It was a beautiful piece of spellcraft. Umbridge was of course furious to discover that the roses were fireproof and as spell resistant as the rest of their pranks. As well as that each student, male and female, awoke to find a single paper rose at the bottom of their bed, with instructions to give a Valentine to whoever they wanted. Students were keen to participate, particularly as they saw how infuriated it made Umbridge. Breakfast saw students of all ages passing flowers and smiles to each other, roses in all shades of pink and red, as the flowers changed colours as they were gifted. The Twins later told me the depth of the colour was a reflection of the depth of your feeling towards another person, be that platonic or romantic.
Which would explain why Hermione Granger spent the day with two blood red roses tucked into her hair and a very shy smile on her face.
Things were destined to go wrong, Hermione realised. But, as she emerged from the workroom coughing heavily, tears streaming from her eyes as she desperately tried to suck in some fresh air, she hadn't imagined it would be quite like this.
It was the instant darkness powder. She'd been trying a different formula and it had backfired, covering her in the potion and filling the room with thick black smoke. Which was a kind of instant darkness she supposed?
"Well, well, well,"
Hermione glanced up and baulked at the sight of Filch standing triumphantly in front of her.
"Oh no," She managed to gasp out.
"Come on, we're going to see the High Inquisitor."
Students stopped and stared as Hermione was led through the corridors towards Umbridge's office. Several spotted where she was heading and started giving her sympathetic looks. Hermione spotted the Twins on the way there, looking very pale and called out to them.
"Can you clean up after Crookshanks for me?" She watched them frown and then George's eyes widened and he pulled Fred back down the way Hermione had come.
"Madam Umbridge," Filch knocked eagerly on the door to her office, looking almost gleeful. "I've got a student here who was caught making trouble."
"Bring them in," She called sweetly and Hermione felt her hands begin to shake. She clenched them tightly unwilling to let Umbridge see how scared she was.
Filch dragged her through the door and Hermione shook him off irritably before she scowled at Umbridge. She could see her reflection in the mirror behind Umbridge's desk. She looked a sight, hair black with soot, skin an ashy grey, glowering at the witch in front of her.
Umbridge looked up from her report and smiled.
"Ah, Miss Granger. Why am I not surprised?"
Hermione fixed her eyes on Umbridge's desk and didn't respond.
"I found her coming out of a secret passage after some sorta explosion," Filch sneered at Hermione. "I'd bet she's been responsible for these problems we've been dealing with."
"Tut tut. Do you have anything to say for yourself?" Umbridge asked. Hermione set her jaw. "Look at me when I'm speaking to you, Miss Granger." Her stomach rolled with the force of her anger and fear. She could feel the Twins, shaken and worried across the bond and she focused on that as she lifted her gaze to Umbridge. "Well. What do you have to say for yourself?"
Hermione didn't trust her tongue at the moment so she said nothing.
Umbridge smirked.
"Show me this where you found her."
Umbridge hadn't been able to guess the password for the secret passageway, but she'd also had no problem with simply blasting the wall open.
Hermione, Filch and Umbridge peered through the masonry dust and the hole in the wall into the room beyond and Hermione felt a victorious smirk curl across her lips.
The Twins hadn't gotten everything out, the work tables, the cauldrons and some ingredients were still there. But the notebooks, the recipes, the stock and everything important was gone.
They hadn't lost anything important.
Umbridge hadn't won.
And judging by the witch's infuriated shriek, she knew it.
"WHO WAS HELPING YOU?"
Hermione's interrogation had been going on for half an hour as Umbridge yelled increasingly loud questions at her. Hermione hadn't said a word.
There were two interruptions.
The first was Minerva slamming open the door of Umbridge's office with such force that three plates fell off the wall and shattered against the floor.
"Professor McGonagall," Umbridge panted, as she turned to Hermione's adopted mother. "How can I help you?"
"You can stop screaming at Miss Granger for one thing!" Minerva was furious and she towered over the squat Defence professor, spectacles glinting in the firelight. "And then you can explain what is happening here."
Umbridge straightened and took her seat behind her desk.
"Miss Granger has been responsible for the chaos that has been plaguing the school. I am trying to find out who has been helping her."
Minerva snorted.
"Miss Granger, what exactly happened?"
Hermione lifted her gaze off the desk and sighed.
"I was trying to catch up on my potions work," She stated quietly. Umbridge's eyes bugged wide. "Professor Snape said there was no way I was going to pass my OWL and I wanted somewhere quiet to practice that people wouldn't make fun of me. I don't know what Professor Umbridge is talking about."
"She's lying!" Umbridge yelled.
Minerva frowned at her.
"Did you find any evidence that Miss Granger has been responsible for these," Her lips twitched. "Pranks?"
"I found enough to have her expelled," Umbridge announced. "And as Educational Decree No. 25 gives me the power to decide punishments for any student…"
Minerva didn't even flinch even as Hermione's heart grew cold.
"Very well, I'll have her transfer papers drawn up,"
Umbridge frowned, mouth gaping unattractively.
"Transfer papers?" She simpered. "Why would we?"
"While you may be in charge of punishments at Hogwarts," Minerva sighed, sounding bored. "Miss Granger is a ward of this school and as such her welfare is my responsibility as her Head of House. I'll be overseeing her transfer to Beauxbatons."
Hermione sat frozen between them as the two older witches had a staring match over her head.
"If, of course, there really is enough proof to see her expelled," Minerva added, narrowing her eyes.
What it came down to, Hermione realised, shuddering, was how much Umbridge wanted to hurt her. She'd been hoping to expel her, to have Hermione's wand snapped. But a transfer to Beauxbatons would be no good.
"Perhaps," Minerva continued whilst Umbridge slowly began to turn puce, "We should check with Professor Snape. If he agrees that Miss Granger was struggling in his class, it would verify her story." She sniffed. "Besides Miss Granger is a lone fifth year. I seriously doubt she would be capable of the advanced magic we have been dealing with."
"That would be why I was trying to get the names of her accomplices!" Umbridge hissed. "I…"
And it was then that the second interruption hit as the door to Umbridge's office crashed open again. Peeves barrelled through and threw something at the stunned teachers. It bounced off Umbridge's face and thumped onto the desk. Peeves blew a raspberry and sped out dropping more of the things behind him.
The three of them turned to look at the item on the desk and Hermione felt the blood drain away from her face.
The Twins had a long history with fireworks. They liked them and they were good at making them.
And that….that was an extra-long lasting Weasley Whizz Bang (for outdoor use only) which was guaranteed to explode not long after being thrown. They were activated when they hit something. It had been Hermione's idea, so people could throw them, but it had made them very volatile and they had a tendency to...
It started to fizz.
Hermione dove for the floor, grabbing Minerva's hand and pulling her down too.
Umbridge wasn't so lucky.
The firework went off in her face, a massive explosion of violet sparks that formed a rocket that began to ricochet around the office, smashing plates and singeing the carpet. Umbridge screamed and Hermione covered her head as dust and shattered bits of crockery went everywhere until the rocket hit the mirror behind the desk and flew out into the corridor through the open door.
Hermione could hear more of them going off in the distance.
"It would seem," Minerva murmured getting up stiffly from the floor and then helping Hermione up, "That the pranksters are still at large, Delores."
Umbridge was shaking, with shock or rage Hermione wasn't certain.
"A month of detentions, Miss Granger," She shrieked before storming off into the corridor. Hermione could hear more explosions going off in the distance.
"I'm sorry Hermione," Minerva sighed and Hermione realised she looked exhausted.
"Don't." Hermione shrugged. "I knew what I was doing. Besides, at least I'm not going to France."
Minerva didn't smile.
"I'd better go help deal with this nonsense." She ushered Hermione out of the destroyed office. "Roughly how many do you think they'll have set off?"
"No more than fifty?" Hermione offered.
Minerva groaned loudly.
"Get back to your common room, Hermione." She ordered.
Hermione took off for the seventh floor at a flat sprint.
Halfway there she skidded to a halt and started running down a disused corridor, throwing herself through the door and straight into Fred's arms.
"'Mione! What...mfph…" He stopped talking because Hermione had started kissing him.
"Fred, have you…" George paused in the doorway. "I see you've found our girlfriend." He commented dryly.
Hermione released Fred and threw herself at George, who'd luckily just managed to close the door behind him and lean against it, and so didn't fall over when his soulmate jumped into his arms and kissed him passionately.
"Not that we're not happy about this," He gasped a few moments later. "But...What brought this on?"
"Thank you," Hermione stopped hanging off his shoulders and dropped to the ground, holding out one hand for Fred. He took it and let himself be tugged closer so she was between the pair of them. "Honestly, thank you. So much."
George realised, now that his wits had returned somewhat, that Hermione was trembling in his arms and the emotion's he could feel were ones of fear and relief and panic.
"Hey, hey," He kissed the top of her head and shared a worried look with Fred. "What happened?"
"She was going to expel me," Hermione breathed and they both froze. "Minerva was trying to stop her, something about sending me to Beauxbatons. But she was...and then Peeves came in and she just gave me detention instead."
The Twins were staring at her in shock.
"She was going to expel you?" Fred breathed.
Hermione nodded and George felt her emotions begin to press down on him, her panic making him panic and…She threw herself away from them and the feelings instantly dulled.
"Sorry," She gasped, wrapping her arms around herself. "Sorry, I just...If you panic because I'm panicking then we all panic more and…"
George forced himself to calm down, taking a deep breath and letting it out slowly.
"Start from the beginning." He asked and she did. As he listened, George tried his best to not focus on how close they'd just come to losing her entirely. If Umbridge hadn't listened to Minerva if she'd snapped Hermione's wand, if…
"George," Hermione turned towards him, frowning. "It's okay. I'm okay."
"'Mione," He murmured, staring at her sadly. "You're a shit liar."
"Yeah," She sighed and looked down at herself. "I'm also filthy. I'd better go and get cleaned up." She patted their shoulders and made to leave, pausing in the doorway. "What happened to the stock?"
"We found a room on the seventh floor," George explained.
"Ah,"
He waited until she had left and turned to his brother.
"That should have been us, Fred."
"She almost got expelled." He replied, looking exhausted. "This was never supposed to happen,"
"Yeah."
It hadn't washed out. Or at least, the black soot had come off of her skin without any problem after some strong scrubbing in the shower. But no matter how hard she tried, it wasn't coming out of her hair. Hermione stared at her reflexion in the bathroom mirror. She almost didn't recognise herself. Black, inky curls clung damply to the side of her face, making her look paler than normal.
"At least your eyebrows match?" Lavender offered, looking apologetic.
Hermione didn't know any cosmetic charms, so when the second shampooing had failed to do anything, she'd called for help from the other fifth year girls. Despite Parvati and Lavender's encyclopedic knowledge of hair care, nothing had worked.
"You look almost like Black's sister," Parvati added, frowning at her critically.
Hermione almost laughed at that.
"Thanks for your help," She murmured, turning away from the mirror.
"No problem." Lavender let her leave but called after her, "I don't think your Twins will mind!"
Ha. Her Twins. She could feel them, somewhere in the castle, not nearby but close enough. Together by the feel of it. Since the start of term, her awareness of the bond had only grown and she could feel their dejection, anger and worry like it was a physical mantle. It weighed her down but she didn't dare try to close the bond. She needed to know they were out there.
Hermione retrieved her mirror from her bag and closed the curtains on her bed, casting a few silencing charms as she did so. Settled against her pillows, she propped the mirror up on her knees and tapped it.
"Sirius Black," She said clearly.
The mirror rippled and then, a few moments later, it cleared to reveal her adopted father. He went white and promptly dropped the mirror.
"Dad?" Hermione asked, confused. All she could see was the ceiling of Sirius' office at Potter Manor. They must have moved back at some point.
"Hermione!" The mirror was snatched up again and he stared at her, looking dumbstruck. "What...I thought you were Bella!" He cried incredulously.
"What?"
"What happened to your hair?" He demanded, looking amazed. The scene behind him moved and she gathered he was walking through the house.
"There was an exp…" She paused as he started yelling for Remus. "Dad, it's fine…"
"What is it?" Came Remus' voice from somewhere out of Hermione's view.
"Look at our daughter!" Sirius screeched, turning the mirror. Remus' reaction was slightly less violent than Sirius' but his eyes got very wide and he actually flinched backwards before moving closer to peer at her.
"Hermione?"
"Hi Dad," Hermione sighed. Her family were ridiculous.
"What happened?" Remus asked, at a more reasonable volume than Sirius.
"There was an explosion." She hurried to explain before they could fly off the handle about that. "Does it look that bad?" She asked, pulling some of it forward so she could see it. The potion hadn't affected the frizziness unfortunately and it was drying into its usual mess.
"No, it looks fine," Sirius placated instantly. "Rather suits you. It's just...You look just like Bellatrix."
Hermione thought back to the picture of Bellatrix that had graced the front of the Daily Prophet when she'd escaped from Azkaban. It wasn't a flattering comparison.
"The Death Eater?" Hermione demanded.
Remus chuckled.
"Yes, but I think Sirius means when she was a bit younger. She looked a lot like you do right now. And all the Black's were great beauties so don't worry about it."
"Well, of course, we are." Sirius scoffed. Hermione decided not to mention that he had gone slight pink. "You look like a daughter of the Black's is all. Gave me a shock."
"It should," Remus groused. "The last thing she needs it to be more like your troublesome self."
"Oh, yeah, because you're such a great role model." Sirius spat back.
"I," Remus reminded him archly, "Was a prefect."
"You," Sirius smirked, "Were the mastermind behind "The Great…" Remus moved with werewolf speed and slapped a hand across Sirius' mouth before he could finish that sentence.
"In summary," Remus announced, pointedly ignoring Sirius' wiggling eyebrows. "We're shit role models. Be more like your step-mother."
"An exhausted workaholic who hasn't seen her own bed in two week? I don't think so." Amelia challenged, striding into view. She did look exhausted, her Auror armour rumpled and the swirl of soot coming off her told Hermione she must have just flooed in. Sirius turned to face her, frowning.
"You're home early." He murmured, as she stepped up to them.
Amelia gave both of them a kiss on the cheek and winked at Hermione.
"I couldn't face one more freezing shower in the Auror changing rooms. I'm taking a fucking bath and then I'm going back to work. I've got Tonks covering for me in a budget meeting right now, which should buy me an hour or so. Cool hair, Hermione!" She breezed off, leaving a bemused Sirius behind her.
"See?" Remus insisted. "Be like her."
Hermione laughed quietly, missing them acutely. She wished Hogwarts was like a regular school and she'd get to go home at 3:30. Have dinners with her parents, bickering with her siblings. Sneaking out to meet the Twins.
"Speaking of being like Sirius," Hermione murmured, "I almost got expelled today."
They both went still and stared at her with dark, worried eyes.
"What." Remus managed.
"It was...Umbridge. Filch took me to her after I blew the workroom up and she...was going to expel me. Have my wand snapped." Sirius flinched. "Minerva arrived and made it clear that if I was expelled she'd enrol me at Beauxbatons. So she...just gave me a month of detentions." Hermione finished in a whisper.
"Excuse me," Remus murmured tightly, moving out of view but not before Hermione saw his eyes flaring amber.
"Oh fuck," Sirius whispered. His eyes were dark and soft, filled with misery and pain. "Sweetheart, I'm so sorry. Are you okay?"
Hermione shrugged.
"Not really." She managed.
"Say the word, darling and I'll actually send you to France." He looked serious. Very faintly in the background, Hermione heard the sound of something smashing and Sirius flinched.
"Are we under attack?" Amelia demanded loudly from somewhere in the house.
"Just Remus," Sirius yelled back, not taking his eyes off his daughter.
"I don't want to leave Hogwarts," Hermione insisted. "My family are here and I won't run just because she's got the upper hand at the moment. "
Sirius took a long breath in through his nose and released it slowly, lips tightly pursed. The smashing sounds continued in the background.
"You're far too much like me. Fine." He murmured, looking as though he was doing his best to hide his anger. "Are your siblings okay?"
"They're fine. I promise." Hermione realised that her eyes were wet and scrubbed at them desperately. "Is Remus going to be okay?"
His lips twitched into what was almost a smile.
"He'll be fine. He doesn't like the idea of one of his cubs getting hurt, particularly you." There was an almighty crash and Sirius screwed up his face. "I was going to redecorate that room anyway." He frowned at her. "She was going to expel you for blowing up a cauldron?"
It was Hermione's turn to wince and Sirius noticed, narrowing his eyes at her.
"What did you do?"
Unhappily, Hermione explained what she and the Twins had been getting up to, and the lengths they'd been going to annoy Umbridge. As she did so, Sirius' eyes grew colder and colder.
"Hermione," He warned and Hermione's stomach started to churn. She didn't think Sirius had ever been angry at her. Annoyed, certainly, but never actually angry. "What the hell were you thinking!"
She clenched her jaw and fixed her gaze on the wall behind him.
"I've never been so disappointed in you!" He snapped and she flinched. "This is reckless and foolish and not to mention dangerous. Umbridge isn't stable and to do something like this… What if she'd actually caught you? What if she'd expelled you on the spot? These pranks are dangerous and foolish and…" He blinked. "I cannot believe I'm giving this lecture. Remus, take over!" The mirror was passed to a grim-faced Remus who had bits of plaster in his hair.
"Hermione…" He started, but she'd had enough.
"I'm not just going to sit here and let her take over the castle!" Hermione shouted, properly crying now. "I'm not going to do nothing! She is evil, I know that, and I know it's dangerous, but it's my skin I'm risking. I knew what would happen and…" She shuddered. "At least she didn't get the Twins."
Remus sighed heavily.
"Cub, we understand why you're doing this. Believe me. We'd probably do the same…"
"...Not helping, Remus!" Sirius roared from the background. Remus rolled his eyes.
"But we're not willing for you to take that kind of risk. You're…" He looked physically pained, the slashes on his face standing out in sharp relief. "You're scarred, darling." He murmured, tears in his eyes. "And no parent wants their child to undergo torture."
"We can't storm the castle," Sirius reminded him, appearing over Remus' shoulder. The werewolf narrowed his eyes and scowled at Hermione, who managed a small giggle.
"You can't keep doing this," He insisted, holding the mirror further away so Sirius could stand next to him.
"There comes a point when pranks go too far and that point is when people start to get hurt," Sirius added.
"No one's gotten hurt!" She protested.
"You've gotten hurt!" Sirius snapped, clearly still angry. He calmed slightly. "I almost killed someone at Hogwarts, I ever tell you that?"
She stared at him.
"No," She managed.
Sirius snorted.
"Not surprised. Not one of my high points. I told Severus Snape to go to the Shrieking Shack if he wanted to find out what the Marauder's big secret was. I dunno, I thought it would be funny I think." He looked unusually solemn. "I sent him down there on a full moon, Hermione. Put him directly in the path of an out of control werewolf." Remus was glaring at Sirius out of the corner of his eye. "Had James not managed to get him out of there in time, Snape would have died. And I would have lost the best friends I'd ever had. Remus because he would have been put down for killing a student and James because he would never have forgiven me."
"I would have haunted you from beyond the grave and been Very Disappointed," Remus claimed archly.
"It was twenty years ago!" Sirius complained. "I apologised. To Snape even!"
"His point," Remus said to Hermione, "Is that this went too far the moment the risk of you getting hurt became real. It's got to stop."
"Okay," Hermione sighed.
They stared her down for a long moment.
"She's going to keep going, isn't she?" Remus complained.
"Yep." Sirius glowered at her. "Young lady you are acting like…"
"You?" Hermione offered sarcastically. Sirius' eyes narrowed at her and she continued hastily. "Look, it was going to happen. Umbridge hates me. Because I'm Muggle-born because I called her an inbred toad to her face because I'm friends with Harry...If it wasn't this then it would have been Decree No.26, or because I keep putting muggle song lyrics in my Defense essays or…"
"Wait," Remus called, holding up a hand. "Isn't Decree 26 about keeping distance between male and female students?"
Hermione felt her eyes going very wide and there was absolute silence between the three of them as she went bright red and Sirius' gaped at her, eyes filling with amazement.
"HERMIONE GRANGER!" Sirius yelled incredulously.
"Bye!" Hermione yelped and tapped the mirror, ending the link.
Somewhere in England Sirius Black startled cackling as the mirror went blank.
"And you were worried about her not acting like a normal teenager," Remus claimed, smiling slightly.
Sirius sobered somewhat and the two men exchanged a long, angry look.
"What're you planning?" Remus asked his childhood partner in crime. He knew that look.
"Trouble," Sirius promised. "I'm planning trouble."
"You solemnly swear?" Remus asked.
Classes were cancelled for two days because of the fireworks. Instead of the fifty, Hermione had estimated, the Twins had turned their entire stock over to Peeves who was smart enough to wait until the first batch was starting to wear off to set off more. The castle was full of the smell of gunpowder and was smouldering or actively on fire in places, as were several of the staff. The students either retreated to their common rooms or braved the cold, wet weather of early March. Hermione spent the entire time hidden away with the Twins in the newly requisitioned Room of Requirement, dreading her detentions.
"Mr Weasley?" Madam Pomfrey narrowed her eyes at him. "What did you do this time?"
Fred didn't even smile. He was trying too hard to not think about the pain radiating through his bond with Hermione.
"I need some Essence of Murtlap," He asked tiredly. "As much as you've got. And I need you to teach me some healing spells."
The healer stared at him, looking astounded. It wasn't uncommon for those students who wanted to go into Healing as a profession to spend some time with her learning the basics, but she'd never expected to find a Weasley Twin asking her for such a thing.
"Why?" She demanded.
"Because my girlfriend has detention right now with Professor Umbridge." Fred snapped, rubbing at the back of his hand with his thumb.
"And?"
"And Umbridge makes her write lines using a blood quill!" He snarled at her and Poppy took a step back.
"Mr Weasley, surely…"
"Give him the murtlap," Minerva called. Poppy wasn't sure when she'd arrived, but she turned to look at the older witch, silently begging her to correct the young man. She didn't, just stood there looking exhausted and sad. "I was coming to ask for some anyway, thank you for thinking of it."
"She can't…" Poppy gasped, staring at the two of them. "That's...barbaric. They're children!"
Minerva looked away, staring at the floor in shame.
"Give him what he wants, Poppy. Anything we can do to improve the situation we must."
Poppy wanted to charge through the corridors. She wanted to inflict all the damage she could on that evil, awful woman. But a healer who got herself suspended was of no use to her students.
"How's she doing?" Minerva asked the Weasley twin quietly. The boy looked at his Head of House, visibly dejected.
"She's in pain," He said softly. "And she's scared."
That settled it for Poppy.
"Very well," She nodded resolutely. "Murtlap will start to lose effectiveness, but there are other things you can try…."
The corridors, which had always been slightly treacherous were now impassible as Fred and George unleashed their fury on the castle. If anyone had had any doubts about how seriously the Twins felt about Hermione, this would have wiped the doubt from their minds. It became frighteningly obvious to the faculty how much the Weasley Twins had been restraining themselves. Their previous antics had nothing on what they unleashed on the population of Hogwarts.
Their Skiving Snackboxes, which contrary to popular opinion the Heads of House were well aware of, became so widespread even the Slytherin students were buying them. (I suspect Draco Malfoy may have been getting them from his cousin and selling them on.) Defence Against the Dark Arts classes could barely start before students were vomiting, fainting, growing huge boils or nasty spots. Poppy Pomfrey almost moved the Hospital Wing to the spare classroom in the same corridor just for convenience.
It wasn't just classes, however. Suits of Armour, usually well behaved, started leaping off their plinths and challenging teachers, students and each other to duels. Balconies developed waterfalls which drenched students on the way to class. Portraits had amplifying charms applied to them, making them so loud all they could be heard all over the castle. It became total anarchy.
Hermione spent her detentions barely aware of what she was doing, or of the vile comments that Umbridge would spit so sweetly at her. She kept her head down, willing herself not to cry and trying to drown herself in the strength of the bond at the back of her head. It was only after midnight, when she was finally released, that she would loosen her control. Fred and George would be waiting for her in the common room, ready to heal her and hold her as she cried out her pain and anger into their shoulders.
"We should stop with the pranks," Fred had said one night and Hermione shook her head resolutely.
"Never!" She cried, wiping tears from her cheeks, aware that she probably looked a state but not caring. "I'm not letting her win."
They'd looked at her for a long time before nodding.
"Okay." They said together.
She may have banned the students from meeting, but Umbridge could not restrict the movements of staff. The staff room itself, accessible by Filch, wasn't going to be possible, so we retreated to Minerva's quarters. She'd put the word out to all the available teachers who'd listen. Madam Hooch, Professor Burbage, Professor Vector, myself, Pomona, Professor Sinistra, Professor Babbling and, and curiously enough, Professor Snape, all convened together.
"This has gone on long enough." Minerva snapped.
There was a general sound of agreement, as the staff sipped at their butterbeers.
"She's using blood quills on the students." She added furiously.
Several staff members paled, those who weren't heads of House at any rate.
"But that's illegal." Charity Burbage whispered, looking terrified.
Minerva scowled.
"Not if you've got special dispensation from the Minister for Magic."
"But they're children." Professor Vector, who had two small children of her own, breathed.
"Is this about Granger?" Snape demanded. "Because if she would just stop antagonising her…"
The room went quiet as Minerva's eyes narrowed, a lion ready to pounce on a snake.
"It would not matter if it was Flint or Malfoy or even Riddell himself," Minerva snarled and the room flinched. "To practise this on any child is wrong and that she is doing this to children under our care is even worse because we are unable to stop her! And don't you blame this on Granger. She is not the first Gryffindor girl too brave for her own good that she can't stand by and watch injustice silently. You should know that Severus!"
Severus went white.
"What do you think Evans would have done in this situation?" Minerva pressed. His hands clenched into fists and he went very quiet.
"So what do we do?" Madam Hooch demanded.
Minerva scowled.
"I have no idea."
Eventually, Minerva, whose power at Hogwarts was being stripped away day by day, and the rest of us began to rebel in the only way we could. We began holding lessons in practical magic whenever Umbridge wasn't watching. I myself accelerated the Charms curriculum to teach the students as much of use as possible. There was reckless points awarding, I swear I saw Charity, the Muggles Studies Professor, assign sixty points to each student who spelt vacuum correctly. I myself became a bit…over generous. It felt good to stick it to Umbridge where I could. No teacher dared to assign detentions anymore, for fear that Umbridge would hear and...take over the punishment.
"Daddy says it'll go to circulation on Monday," Luna smiled broadly at Hermione and Susan. "But he sent the advanced copy."
Hermione took the magazine and smirked at the headline.
"You-Know-Who Returned? Black's Exclusive Interview with Rita Skeeter."
"That," Susan murmured, "Is perfect Luna. Thank your father for us, will you?"
"He was happy to do it." Luna smiled at the two witches. "Blessings on your houses!" She called brightly before the smile dropped off her face and she turned a truly fearsome glare on Hermione's brother. "Harry."
The Boy-Who-Lived-Just-To-Be-Scared-Of-A-Fourteen-Year-Old, flinched.
"Luna.." He started but she'd already skipped off.
Hermione and Susan stared at him as he gazed unhappily after the younger witch.
"What did you do?" Hermione demanded tiredly.
Susan snorted.
"Please. He hasn't done anything. It's not like he's actually friends with Lovegood." Harry bristled at that and she scowled at him. "What? You're not. You've barely said three words to her in the last month. How's your hand?" She added to Hermione.
"Sore," Hermione complained. "Still, Umbridge will have something else to be angry about now, won't she?"
"Oh, yeah," Susan muttered under her breath. "And she's definitely not mad about the seventeen suits of armour that tried to kill her this morning."
They started walking along the corridor towards the Great Hall, Hermione doing an awful job of concealing her smirk.
"They wouldn't kill," She murmured, very quietly in case anyone overheard her. "Only maim or seriously injure."
"Because that's so much better," Harry complained. He seemed to make a decision and shouldered his bag.
"I'll be right back," He promised, as he left his sisters behind.
Susan exchanged a worried look with Hermione.
"What do you reckon that's about?"
"With Harry?" She shrugged. "Could be anything."
"I owe you an apology." Harry took a long breath, keeping his eyes fixed on his shoes. "The first time we met, I...I went a little star-struck, I guess? And I made this grand proclamation and...With all the trouble that Hermione has gone through with the Twins, I realised how insane that was. I was twelve! You were eleven. And even though I'm still star-struck, I don't even really know you. And we," He gestured between them, "We aren't even friends. Not really. And that isn't fair to either one of us. So, you have my sincere apologies, Miss Lovegood."
He looked up nervously and instantly got transfixed by the brilliantly blue eyes staring back at him. She had her head cocked to one side, tipped so far the eleven or so cloth butterflies she had perched in her hair looked in danger of falling out.
"I forgive you," Luna said eventually and Harry beamed at her.
"Good. Great. So," He shoved his hair back, wishing he'd tied it up that morning. "I was thinking we should start from the beginning."
She grinned at him and Harry felt his knees go a little weak.
"You want to pretend to have amnesia?"
"Yep!" Harry dropped down into the chair opposite her and held out his hand. "Hi, I'm Harry Black. Who're you?"
Luna shook his hand and leaned forward.
"I don't know!" She widened her eyes dramatically. "I think I have amnesia!"
"What a coincidence!" Harry did his best to look amazed. "I think I have amnesia too!"
"So you and Harry are being friends?" Susan asked doubtfully.
"He apologised to me," Luna murmured, sounding mystified. This wasn't an unusual tone for Luna, but for once she seemed genuinely confused.
Susan snorted.
"Yeah, for the wrong thing. When do you think he's going to work out why you were really angry?"
"When those who poison the cup are burned under the light of the moon."
There was a long pause while Susan just blinked at the younger girl.
"Right."
The Quibbler was never a magazine I spent a lot of time perusing. I, like a great many people, considered it a bit of a rag. Nothing like it is today. But for the first time ever, the March Issue of the Quibbler sold out. As Susan had predicted, people were keen for another point of view, even if they didn't believe the account of Harry Black. Students were keen for a voice that wasn't the Ministries. Umbridge promptly banned it. Which, of course, meant every student in the castle read it. Any teacher could have told her that was a fatal mistake. Students whispered about it in classes, swapping hastily disguised notes as Harry Black went from social pariah to something of a tentative hero. Umbridge's control was at an all-time low.
And then she sacked Trelawney, which frightened the staff. Her attempt to throw the witch from the castle thwarted at the last moment by Dumbledore. Who replaced her with a Centaur, a creature that Umbridge hated, regardless of his ability to teach Divination.
Dumbledore's sacking seemed inevitable, a final straw to break the back of the school's spirit. We weren't surprised. But we were surprised by what caused it.
"Miss Granger," Umbridge smiled at her sickeningly. "What's that around your wrists?"
A/N
Updated 2022