Hermione stood in the owlery, glancing at the letter one more time. It was from Harry and Ron, who apparently have already heard about her entering Septem Vincit.

Hermione,

Bloody hell! We heard about you entering the competition Kingsley put together. Are you sure that's a good idea? We are worried about you. That doesn't sound like something you would enter? That's more of something I would do, and something Harry would accidentally enter. Do you need to talk to a mediwitch? I mean this in the best way possible. We just don't understand. No matter what, we love you.

p.s Mum wants you to come over for Christmas, what do you say?

-Ron

I am not going to waste time lecturing you. You already know we are all worried about you. Ever since the war, you just haven't been the same. Is there something else going on? It's not like we will be mad if there is, and I'm sure we could even help you out if you told us. We've always done things together. You and Ron helped me out all the time with my problems, so let me help you with yours please. You don't even have to talk to me, just talk to someone. You don't need to go through this alone. We will be there at every competition cheering you on. If this is something you want to do, then we support you.

-Harry

She could tell they wrote to her at the same time. Their worry touched her, but the thought of telling them caused her more stress. She borrowed one of the owls and attached her own reply. The witch had just put her quill in her bag when the sound of the heavy door pulling open distracted her.

Hermione turned around. Standing at the front of the room was the beautiful professor Black. The professor's hair was messier than usual. At the sight of Hermione, she froze mid-step, but then quickly resumed her path towards her student. "I need to talk to you," she said in a tone that was not meant to be argued with.

The witch forced herself to meet the woman's eyes. "Whatever for?" she questioned. That was when she noticed a letter in the woman's hand. Black held it up, "This. Why does my sister talk about a time when you were in her care? What happened?"

Without thinking, Hermione's hand moved to where her scar was. She grimaced at the memories. "We were in a war you know," her tone came out a bit too smart, but she couldn't just take it back. Black's eyes hardened and she stepped closer to Hermione. "Don't lecture me about the war, Ms. Granger. I know damn well that we were in a war."

"I didn't mean it like that," she fired back. "It happened during the war. But it's not exactly polite to go nosing about in the business of other people, especially if it involves a bloody war!"

"There sure is a lot you refuse to say. What are you hiding that's so bad?"

Those dark eyes bore into hers. Hermione's heart missed a beat as they stared each other down. The professor wore a look of frustration as she stepped closer. Automatically, the younger witch stepped back, not realizing how close she was to the wall. She glanced off to the side.

The feeling of a firm hand on her chin guided her eyes back to the woman. Her breath caught in her throat at the proximity of the woman. The sweet perfume invaded her senses. What was it? Something sweet with a little bit of spice. Whatever it was, it was incredibly delicious.

"I can help you, Hermione."

The sound of her name on the professor's lips was almost too perfect. She wanted to hear the sound over and over again. Preferably for the rest of eternity.

"I can't tell you, professor," she breathed out. The body heat from Black made her want to press closer. Instead, she forced her back against the wall and tried not to focus on the body right in front of her. It was so close to her. She wanted to reach out and—

"Says who?"

She didn't answer the question. "You should know better than to try to involve yourself with my trauma! You have no right to try and force yourself into my life like this. Excuse my french, professor, but shit happened to everyone during that bloody war! You should know that better than anyone!" She was breathing heavily as she finished her rant. The two stood there for a few moments, processing what was just said, before Black glanced down between them and then backed up, both hands in the air in defeat. There was an unreadable look on the woman's face as she turned and left.

Hermione watched her leave, her heart not yet back to its regular speed. It was infuriating to her that not only was the professor being incredibly invasive, but that-that didn't stop her from being incredibly attracted to her. Sure the other woman has always been exceedingly beautiful, but the effect she was starting to have on Hermione was scary. She flushed as she thought back on the situation, knowing full well that the things she had been thinking were not appropriate at all. It was an odd situation, she supposed, but she couldn't excuse the thoughts that had gone through her head. Nor could that excuse how rude she had been to the woman.

The young witch shoved all her belongings into her bag and hurried down to breakfast, intentionally taking the long way so as to not run into a certain someone.

As she made her way into the great hall, a feeling of guilt overwhelmed her as she noted the professor's absence from the table. Her friends greeted her happily and she forced herself to remain cheerful as she sat down. "Harry and Ron sent me a letter. I guess the word has already reached them."

At that, Ginny guiltily raised her hand, not entirely making eye contact. "That would have been from me… I may have sent them a long and angry letter explaining everything…"

Hermione raised her eyebrow at the redhead but let it go. Neville caught her attention as he gestured towards the front of the room. "Do you reckon Kingsley is gonna announce the teams?"

She turned her attention towards the gestured area. Kingsley sat at a table, in his hands was a rolled up scroll. As if sending the attention on him, he stood up, tapping a utensil against a goblet. "Attention please," he called through the hall. Immediately the chatter died down as everyone focused on the minister.

"I will now be announcing the teams for the Septem Vincit," Kingsley went on to list fifteen other teams. Most seemed to be the new seventh years, while a few sixth years were eligible to join. Hermione noted that some of the stronger teams were Romilda Vane with Joseph Carolinas, Vanessa Selwyn with Astoria Greengrass, and Demelza Robbins with Tara Loveknot. Then there were several questionable teams along with a few who don't seem to hold any threat.

Excited chatter filled the great hall as her peers looked around them at their classmates in excitement. Kingsley smiled briefly before raising his hand, signaling the hall to quiet down.

"Thank you, thank you. Now, you teams listen closely. You have three days to prepare for the first event," he paused as the noise inevitably grew loud once more. Hermione's heart beat faster inside her chest as she realized just how close this competition is.

"By the third day, you must come to a mutual agreement with your partner on a team name. Once you both are in agreement, your team name will appear on my scroll. I'm sure you are all feeling very impatient, so I will get on with the information you all need."

Kingsley waved his wand, causing voices to grow in volume as though they were rising from the ground.

"If you wish to find thee answer you seek,

remember these words 'A laugh is too heal, unless used to destroy. Touch, but not eat, unless you wish to live the happiest unhappy end.'" The voices grew louder and louder as it repeated the riddle in a sequence of three.

Immediately Hermione's brain began working. She mentally broke down the sentences as she listened, paying close attention to which words were enunciated most clearly.

The end of the riddle brought an overwhelming silence to the hall. Her peers, just like her, working the riddle in their own minds.

After several long moments, the minister spoke once more. "This riddle can not be gathered until the event starts. Anyone caught attempting to bring anything other than their wands, will be disqualified immediately. Thank you all for your interest in this event, and I wish you teams the best of luck."

As he sat down, several students got up at once, moving towards their partners. Hermione caught Draco's attention before she nodded her head. Then, she turned around and walked outside of the great hall quickly. Behind her, she could hear footsteps.

The witch slowed and looked behind her. Neville stood there, looking positively excited. "I suppose you've figured it out already?" His answering grin was enough. She chuckled and held out her hand, he grasped it.

Hermione pulled him to her usual spot. "What do you know?"

Neville began speaking at once. "It's talking about an Alihotsy! Think about it. Safe to touch but dangerous to ingest, a happy unhappy end-"

"That's it! But it seems too easy, doesn't it?"

Neville studied his hand for a few moments. "It does," he agreed. "We grow it in the greenhouse here. Why would that be the challenge?"

"Because the Alihotsy is the tool we need. We can't gather it before the event, as we need to find it during the event," another voice cut in. Draco appeared, carrying a book. He opened it and set it in front of them.

Simultaneously, Neville and Hermione seemed to get the idea. "How could I be so stupid?" Hermione cried out excitedly. "Alihotsy grows naturally in the dark forest! Of course it's not as easy as figuring out the riddle. We need to find the answer we are seeking, which means we have to go find Alihotsy. The problem isn't the herb, it's getting too it!"

Neville's eyes widened in horror. "No… They want you to go traipsing into the dark forest to find it?! That's-That's dangerous!"

"More dangerous than leading a rebellion at Hogwarts while surrounded by death eaters?" Hermione raised an eyebrow, causing Neville to blush. "Yeah, but that was war. They want you to do this for glory or something."

She gave her friend a fond look. "Thank you, Neville. You helped a lot."

He smiled and then looked between Hermione and Draco. "I'll leave you two to decide your plan."

As her friend walked away, she turned to Draco. "This still feels too easy." Draco murmured an agreement as he stared out at the lake. "Whatever is out there… that's what we need to worry about."

Draco reached over to examine her band. "Our team name. We both know what it is."

Hermione smiled. "I do."

For a while the two sat there, until Hermione interrupted the silence. "Black cornered me, you know. She was asking about you and Narcissa."

A guilty look crossed onto his face. He studied his hands. "Mum accidentally mentioned it… she hasn't said anything more. It's just been driving aunt Bella kind of… mad." His eyes widened. "Oh hell! That's not what I meant. Don't say anything to her please, I-"

She laughed a little. "I know what you meant, Draco. I should get going. Tomorrow?"

"Tomorrow," he agreed.

The walk back to the castle was peaceful. She relished in the quiet, which she seemed to crave more and more. The young witch found herself worrying about everything as she was allowed to stay in her thoughts.

When she finally made it through the halls, she heard a voice call her name. Instantly she froze as she recognized that voice. A cloud of anger coursed through her as she waited. Finally, the person caught up to her.

Percy Weasley.

"Hermione, I just need to apologize. I know I didn't quite go about it in the right way but I need you to understand that I did it for your own good."

She crossed her arms. "I had it—and I still do—under control. You had no right to interfere with my life like that."

"You know you don't have it under control. You're scared, Hermione. We both know it. Everyone else is starting to see it too. And it's obvious you weren't going to ask for help, so I had no choice but to do this. I'm sorry."

"Don't say you had no choice when you never even tried to talk to me."

"Would you have listened? Answer me honestly. Would you have admitted that for once you don't know what's going on and that you are scared?"

"I had no need to because I have it under control."

He looked disappointed but unsurprised. "That is why I do not regret doing this. Goodbye Hermione. And when you're ready to accept my help, you know where I am."

She glowered at him as he walked away. Her anger was rising at a steady incline. How dare he interfere in her life. How dare he act like he knows what she's going through. He had no right to force her into a dangerous competition where she would be forced to risk her life.

And since her life is not so simple, the sweet aroma of Black's perfume invaded her senses. She turned around.

"How small is this damn castle for us to be running into each other so often!" she bit out, not even trying to hide the anger in her voice. The professor did a lovely job at matching her anger as she stepped closer.

Black continued towards her, and when Hermione's back was firmly against the wall, she pressed her hand to the stone next to the girl's head. "Watch your tone, Miss Granger," she hissed. "I'm still your professor."

She was too angry to think clearly. "And this surely shows your professionalism, doesn't it, professor." She wanted to scream. Everybody was so bloody frustrating as of late. Didn't she deserve to be left alone?

"You're treading a fine line right now."

"What the fuck do you want from me?"

She watched as those eyes darkened. "So much," came the short reply. Then the woman backed up, creating distance between them that Hermione missed instantly. "You're right, this was unprofessional of me. I should have just kept walking, I apologize."

As Black turned to walk away, Hermione grasped the hand without thinking. The older witch tensed up before slowly turning to face her student. Hermione breathed deeply, "Why didn't you? Keep walking?"

"I overheard you and Weasley… I—uh, I know I'm not in the loop. I'm not quite sure anyone is though. You don't have to tell me, but I do want to help you."

"Why?"

She couldn't rip her gaze away from those beautiful eyes for more than a few seconds. Something drew her to this woman and she felt like a moth to a flame. Everything about her was intoxicating.

"I don't know," came the whispered confession.

"That makes two of us then."

"What can I do to help you?"

"Teach me."

A look of shock crossed over onto the woman's face. "What?"

"Teach me, please. To be like you."

"Why would you want to be like me?"

"Why wouldn't I?"

"So many reasons, pet."

Black pulled her lip between teeth as she seemed to contemplate what Hermione said. Finally, she seemed to reach her decision. "What do you want to know?"

"I want to win this thing. But I don't think I'm fit for it. But you—you would excel at this."

"You want to win?"

"I want to win," It was the first time she had allowed herself to come to terms with that fact. She did want to win.

"I'll help you, but I won't teach you to be like me. No, I'll help you win as yourself."