Just because everything is changing,
Doesn't mean it's never been this way before.
All you can do is try to know who your friends are,
as you head off to the war.
Pick a star on the dark horizon and follow the light,
you'll come back when it's over,
no need to say goodbye.
-The Call, Regina Spektor.
Chapter 16: Know Who Your Friends Are.
July 1994-The Burrow.
With a crack two figures arrived on the lane leading up to the front door of the Burrow. Arthur and Sirius had been waiting on the front step for the stragglers of their group. Pulling her hood off, Hermione tucked her hands in the pockets of her sweater.
"What took you so long?" Arthur asked looking from one to the other, "I thought you were right behind us."
"We were, but then we got held up—" Lupin trailed off, glancing at Hermione for help.
"I fell," she fibbed, looking down embarrassingly at the grass and dirt smeared on her clothes.
"Well, come on inside. Molly is fixing hot chocolate for everyone," Arthur coaxed, leading the way to the kitchen. "After a cup to settle the nerves everyone is headed off to bed." He patted Hermione on the back encouragingly as they headed inside; she let out a long breath through her nose, suppressing a wince at the contact.
"Hermione, there you are," Ron exclaimed, relieved as she walked into the kitchen where the younger group was currently nursing cups of hot drinks. Ginny and Harry were seated on either side of the red-headed boy and perked up at his words, as they had been staring into their cups wrapped up in their own thoughts. Harry was rubbing at his head, but stopped in favor of sending a tired smile her way. George was asleep with his head cradled on his folded arms and Fred propped up against his shoulder. Charlie, Bill and Percy were nowhere to be seen.
"Oh dear, are you alright?" Molly asked, bustling over to look at Hermione's rumpled appearance before coaxing her to the table. "Come sit, I'll fix you a cup." Hermione paused, not letting herself be led to the table.
"Actually, I'd like to get cleaned up, if you don't mind," she pleaded, slipping out of the woman's grip and moving to exit the kitchen.
"Okay, deary, I'll set a cup aside and you can drink it once you're freshened up a bit." Molly promised, shaking Fred and George awake from their seats at the table; both had dozed off and Fred had begun drooling on George's shoulder.
Heading upstairs, intending on getting a shower, she was stopped by Sirius at the base.
"You okay?" he asked softly, having caught the wince she had tried to hide when Arthur had led her inside.
"Fine, just some scrapes and bruises. It's nothing serious, Sirius." She joked lightly and moved to head up the stairs.
"What's wrong with your hands?" Sirius asked suspiciously, eyeing her odd posture as she had yet to remove them from her pockets since approaching the house. He had known the Witch long enough to notice when she was acting odd, Hermione hardly ever had her hands just sitting in her pockets even in the cold; something he suspected was from a subconscious desire to not get them caught up in the fabric if something happened that required immediate action. Hermione sighed exasperatedly, pulling her hands out and presented them to her fellow Animagus. Her left had a few scrapes, but her right was bleeding from several cuts and beginning to swell. Fragments of a white material were lodged in the skin around her knuckles, and the knuckles themselves were split in a number of places and beginning to swell.
"What did you hit?" he asked with a sympathetic wince; taking her hand in his, inspecting the gashes and white pieces.
"Lucius Malfoy," she said, pulling her hand back and flexing her fingers, wincing slightly at the new flare of pain. "Normally I would have found a less painful way to render a man unconscious, but given who it was the pain is completely worth it."
"Did he have it coming?" He asked darkly, recalling the hurried departure she had made earlier when he had walked in on the pair at the arena.
"Yes," she replied with a satisfied smirk, "he seemed under the impression he could intimidate me and I'd tell him whatever he wanted to know. I warned him he didn't want to try that method with me."
"I'm sure you did," Sirius muttered, chuckling as Hermione headed upstairs.
Slipping into the bathroom, she stripped out of her sweater and took off her bag, turning on the shower before beginning to clean up her hands in the sink. Pulling out the jagged slivers of the mask that had lodged in her skin, she washed the blood off before gingerly peeling the rest of her clothes off. A glance in the mirror revealed a large bruise was just beginning to blossom across her upper back where the Bludgeoning Hex had hit her.
Taking care of the few other scrapes and cuts she had gotten, she stepped into the warm stream of water. After getting clean and treating her swollen knuckles with a mild healing paste from her bag, she headed to bed in Ginny's room. There she found Ginny fast asleep and a still warm cup of hot chocolate next to her bed. Placing the empty cup back on the table when she was done, she climbed in under her blankets gingerly, sure she would be feeling the night's activities for a while.
The next morning the papers were ablaze with the headline 'Terror at the World Cup!'. Glancing over the paper that was being passed around the breakfast table, she noted that it was nearly identical to the one she had in her journal, save there were a few differences as she read over it. They had picked up the Death Eater that had attacked her in the back, he had been found unconscious by the Aurors that had come to help. Lucius Malfoy seemed to have done an interview with the article's writer, Rita Skeeter. He claimed to have been physically assaulted by at least three of the masked men, 'barely made it out with his life'. Or so he claimed. Apparently he was placing the blame of the attack more on the incompetence of those who had set up the Cup and had been in charge of seeing to the safety of those who attended, rather than those who had done the attacking.
Looking over at Harry, gauging his reaction to the news; he seemed lost in thought staring blankly at the picture of the Dark Mark hovering ominously over the tents in the picture.
"What's wrong Harry?" she asked quietly, breaking him out of his thoughts.
"Nothing," he answered sharply, turning his focus back to his food. She let him brush her off for now, recognizing the tone that said something had rattled him but he wasn't going to even consider sharing with others around. It was very reminiscent of when he had begun hearing voices in the walls and had been reluctant to tell anyone, afraid that he might be considered crazy. As soon as breakfast was over she was quick to drag him and Ron out into a secluded corner of the garden, where they could talk in private.
"Spill, what's wrong?" she asked, leveling her usual scolding look that said he better just come clean now because she was going to get the answers from him eventually.
"I didn't tell anyone," he started shifting uncomfortably, "but the night before we left for the Cup I had a dream, and my scar was hurting."
"He couldn't have been here, could he?" Ron hissed, looking panicked. "There was no way He could have gotten past our wards without mum and dad knowing."
"No, I don't think he was here, but he was in my dream. He was talking with someone, a man, about killing someone." The 'Me' went unspoken, but they all knew who Voldemort wanted dead the most.
"Did you see the man, what he looked like?" Hermione asked. If this man was tasked with targeting Harry, probably the one who was ordered to kidnap him rather than a hitman as the teen believed; then he was also the one who would be infiltrating the school this year. If she could figure out who he was, there was a good chance she could blow his cover before the Tornament began and would be in the perfect position to get caught. The Tornament was a far more secure place to bring Voldemort's plan to light than attempting to head off Moody's abduction. Better to let the imposter come to her where she had the home field advantage at Hogwarts, besides he needed Moody alive to keep up his disguise; so at least she didn't need to worry about his safety. From the stories he was quite the fighter back in the day, the former-Auror would be a great help in the coming war if she could release him before the imposter had reason to kill him.
"I can't recall much now," he admitted, "but I remember he showed Voldemort his arm and it had that mark, the one from the newspaper."
"The Dark Mark," Hermione said, nodding, as she sifted through the information. "All his closest supporters are branded with his Mark. It had some sort of magic in it that connects them together, it's how he calls them," she explained, recalling a talk she had with a certain man bearing the Mark. She had gotten a good look at it in the weeks he had been bedridden after being attacked by Greyback.
"So this man is someone who managed to get out of being rounded up and sent to Azkaban when the rest were collected," she muttered to herself before looking over at a confused Harry and Ron. "If you saw him again, do you think you would recognize him? Could you describe him at all?" she asked, Harry shrugged.
"I don't know, maybe. He was kneeling or maybe sitting, so I'm not sure how tall he was, but he was thin and had brown, maybe black hair, I really can't recall."
"You should probably tell Sirius about this," she suggested, stocking the vague description away.
"It's just a dream, I really don't want to bother him," Harry said irritably.
"He'd want to know, mate. I mean, what if it means something, he would know wouldn't he? Or maybe he knows who the man might be," Ron jumped in, patting Harry on the shoulder; Hermione smiled thankfully at the red-head. Harry always thought she was a worrier, if Ron agreed with her on this, he was more likely to do what she suggested first.
"I guess I could tell him," Harry muttered, not liking going to the man who had done so much for him in the past couple of months and worrying him over a dream that would probably turn out to be nothing.
Soon enough, the group found themselves headed off once again toward school on the brightly polished Hogwarts Express. Harry, Ron, Hermione, Neville and Ginny had found themselves crowded in a compartment talking about the World Cup. Ron and Harry insisted on describing everything to Neville, who hadn't been able to go. Ron even dug around in his trunk to find his Omnioculars to show Neville the clip he had gotten of Krum's game ending Snitch catch.
Hermione had tuned the group out, as she began flipping through one of her new school books, while Ron began to tell Neville once again how great of a player Krum was for the third time. It was about an hour into the trip when Malfoy made his usual beginning of the year 'seek-out-the-Golden-Trio-and-torment-them' visit.
"What do you want, Malfoy?" Harry asked, scowling at the blond teen.
"I thought I would come by to see if Weasley is going to enter. A Potter wouldn't be able to resist the chance to show off, so I'm not going to even bother asking you." Malfoy stated, nonchalantly shrugging off Harry's glare with a smirk that said he knew something they didn't.
"What are you talking about?" Harry asked, sharing a confused glance with Ron before looking at Hermione who was ignoring the lot of them in favor of her book. Neville and Ginny were looking just as clueless as to what the Malfoy Heir was talking about. Seeing all the confused looks the Gryffindors were sharing; save Hermione, whose face was obscured from everyone's view by her large tome, Malfoy could only begin grinning in glee.
"You mean, your dad works at the Ministry and you don't know! My dad told me ages ago," he boasted laughing, causing Ron to turn an angry shade of red and Harry's scowling increased.
"What are you going on about, Malfoy?" Harry repeated, his temper rising.
"Why should I be the one to spoil the surprise?" Draco stated smugly before something caught his eye. "What is that, Weasley?" he asked, reaching for a discolored lacy sleeve that was hanging out of the trunk Ron had left partly open from when he had gone digging for his Omnioculars. Before Ron could react Draco grabbed the sleeve and pulled it out in full view.
"Look at this!" Draco cackled, holding up his prize. "I must say, Weasley, you have quite the fashion sense... for someone from the 1890's"
There was the sudden sound of something heavy hitting flesh and a yelp that caused the two groups to turn and look at Crabbe. The large teen was holding his hand and backing warily away from Hermione, looking very much like a dog that just found out first hand why they shouldn't torment a porcupine. The brunette witch was glaring at him threateningly brandishing her large book with both hands. On the seat beside her was a large package of half eaten chocolate frogs Crabbe had been steadily edging toward before attempting to help himself to her treats.
Addressing Draco, but still glaring at Crabbe should he try to snag her snack again. "Are you criticizing everyone's formal wear?" She asked with a sly smirk. "I would love to hear your opinion of mine." Turning her amused brown gaze toward Draco with a raised eyebrow in challenge. The teen muttered something scathing under his breath before balling up Ron's dress robes and tossed them at the red-head, a red blush prominent on his pale complexion.
"By the way, how's your father? I hear he was attacked by three armed men. That must have been terrible, do tell him I hope his nose is doing better," she said in false concern, as Draco and his goons made to leave. Hermione only tsked at his lack of reply, as the compartment door slammed shut behind them, before opening another chocolate frog. Grabbing it before it could hop away, she shoved the whole thing in her mouth and opened up her book again. Glancing up, she realized all her friends were staring at her.
"What?" she mumbled around the hunk of chocolate. "It got him to leave didn't it."
"How did you do that?" Ron asked enviously and a little suspiciously. "He didn't even try to hex you or anything."
"I'm a girl," she said, as if it was the most obvious thing, "I can do many things to influence boys into doing what I want." Ron, Harry and Neville shared a look that said they were unanimously still lost on what just happened. Ginny hid a smirk when Hermione sent her wink, before slinking back down behind her book for the rest of the train ride.
It was pouring rain by the time the train reached the Hogsmeade Station, and Hermione tucked her cat up under her robes to keep him dry from the worst of the rain. As they entered the Entrance Hall she turned him loose to find his own way up to the common room before moving with the rest of her friends into the Great Hall. The feast was extravagant as usual and everyone tucked in hungrily after the first-years had been Sorted. Colin Creevey's brother had joined them at Gryffindor and was completely overjoyed at having fallen in the Great Lake on the trip over, having been pushed back in the boat by the Giant Squid.
At the end the plates and dishes of remaining food vanished, as Dumbledore stood to greet the students into a new school year. Hermione wrinkled her nose in distaste at the Headmaster's reference to them having been sufficiently fed and watered like they were a bunch of pets he was in charge of taking care of while their owners were away.
His following greeting, the Headmaster began reminding them all that the Forbidden Forest was unsurprisingly still forbidden and that the Inter-House Quidditch games were canceled for the year. Ron and Harry were in shock for a moment before they joined in the outrage shouts of the assorted House teams. Dumbledore raised his hand in a gesture of silence, and the students quieted before he proceeded to explain the reason for the cancellation, only to be interrupted by the doors of the Great Hall opening with a resounding bang.
In walked none other than the ex-Auror Alastor "Mad Eye" Moody. Hermione watched him, as he greeted Dumbledore and took his place at the teachers table. If her information was still accurate, this man was, in fact, an impostor, and a good one at that, given that he fooled Dumbledore and a number of people that knew the real Moody for years. She hadn't been able to identify which Death Eater had infiltrated Hogwarts during the Tournament, only that he had taken Moody's place, and when he was through, he had killed the real Moody.
Dumbledore finally broke the news of the Triwizard Tournament; which garnered a lot of excited chatter from the collective student body, only to have the hopes of some of the younger students dashed when it was announced that there would be an age restriction in place keeping anyone under age from entering. The twins were outraged at this turn of events, as they had hoped to enter themselves. Dumbledore dismissed them to bed, leaving many of the students still chatting excitedly, as they dispersed to their designated dormitories. Hermione was forced to usher Harry, Ron and the twins out of the Hall before they were the last ones left, as they were still talking about how unfair their situation was. Hermione could only shake her head, she had had enough life-threatening situations for one lifetime, she had no desire to throw herself into another for fame and money; Harry seemed to share her opinion when Ron asked him if he wanted to enter if he had the chance.
The first week of classes was uneventful, as everyone got used to their new class schedules. The morning after the feast was clear of the previous night's rain and found her waking early and heading downstairs, dressed in her running clothes.
"Good morning, Sir," she greeted, as she met Snape heading out the door, he seemed surprised to see her at first, but then seemed to settle back into his usual half awake self that he was this early in the morning.
"Good morning, Ms Granger," he muttered, yawning before heading off at a jog on their usual route around the lake.
Hagrid had them learning about a new creature; he had invented something called a Blast-Ended Skrewt over the summer and Hermione had a startling sense of foreboding, as she was reminded of another man who had messed with the blending of magical species. Watching the students leave class with minor burns and stings, she could only hope the Skrewts didn't turn out near as dangerous as Fowl's were-brids.
Friday came quickly, and Hermione was on her way from lunch, having grabbed foods that were easy to fit in her pockets, and headed toward the library, she was having to squeeze in research time anywhere she could now that she didn't have the leisure of the Time-Turner to free up time for her to search the library for information on the ring she had stored back in her house and the spells laid on it. She was almost to the library when she came across a number of familiar raised voices around the corner in one of the small courtyards, Hermione slowed and peeked around the corner to see Malfoy red-faced and angry scowling at Harry and Ron who were chuckling as they turned to walk away from the teen and his two goons. Whatever her friends had said must have really pissed him off, because despite her having taught him a lesson last year about attacking someone in the back the youngest Malfoy seemed to have not been paying very close attention, as one instant he was firing a spell at Harry's back and the next the blond boy had been replaced by a rather adorable white ferret.
Hermione had to hold back a laugh at the ferret's startled expression as Moody, or rather the Death Eater playing Moody, stepped into sight to check if Harry was alright.
Moody had just turned back to point his wand at the Ferret-Malfoy only to find much to everyone's surprise that the transfigured boy was missing, as a ginger bottle brush tail slipped around the corner. Moody and Malfoy's two henchmen gave chase, but were no match for the agile Crookshanks, as he darted down to the ground floor and was lost among the legs of the lunch crowd as they headed for the Great Hall.
"Clever boy, Crooks," Hermione said, picking up the hyperventilating ferret, as she patted her cat on the head. She had met up with her cat on one of the deserted tower stairwells, as she sat on the step beside a window looking out over the Lake. "Breath, Malfoy, before you pass out," she said, setting the ferret on her lap and rubbing his back. After a couple of minutes his breathing seemed to calm and he turned around to snap at her hand with sharp teeth. Hermione pulled her hand back only to pick him up with her other hand, preventing him from bolting or trying to bite her again.
"Hey," she said, flicking him in the nose, "I'm trying to help you — or should I have just turned you back over to crazy Moody? I'm sure he would have loads of fun at your expense, and before long the whole school will have seen Malfoy the Wonder Ferret." Malfoy stilled before giving a heavy sigh and going limp in her grip.
"Good," she nodded, setting the ferret on her shoulder. "Hold on." Standing, she gathered her bag and headed down the stairs with Draco on her shoulder and Crookshanks on her heels. Pulling an apple from a pocket in her bag and began eating it as she waltzed, down the tower and into the lower regions of the castle, knocking at the closed door to the Potions Master's office.
"Enter," came the curt reply. Hermione opened the door to find Snape busy working through the pile of summer work he had been bombarded with at the start of term. Briefly glancing up at her Snape went back to his grading. "What do you want, Granger?"
"To return something of yours," she said in an overly happy tone, this caused him to pause in his work and look up at her fully with a questioning gaze. Pulling the ferret off her shoulder, she plopped him right in the middle of the scattered papers Snape had been so diligently working on.
"What is this?" he asked slowly, eyeing the creature that looked back at him with pitiful pleading eyes.
"Draco Malfoy," Hermione said, smiling smugly; Snape scowled in confusion, he didn't recall the young Malfoy having a ferret or any of his Slytherins having one for that matter.
"The ferret is Malfoy's?" Hermione shook her head, as the ferret stood on its hind legs, chittering and flailing, its little paws gesturing madly before its movements became less coordinated, as it realized nothing it said was being understood and preceded to bang its head against a rather large paper weight in frustration. Snape watched all this with mild curiosity, before looking up at Granger for an explanation.
"The ferret IS Malfoy," she corrected. Malfoy hopped up and down, making a racket, pointing at Hermione spastically.
"Malfoy?" Snape questioned, turning his gaze fully on the ferret who snapped to attention with his full focus on the Potions Master. "Is that you?" The ferret nodded its head vigorously in confirmation.
"I better not find out you had anything to do with this," Snape warned, turning his gaze back on the amused Gryffindor.
Hermione held up her hands innocently, "You want fingers to point, ask Professor Moody, he's the one who did the spell." Snape seemed to ponder over this information before snapping out a dismissal, sending hu8er off to do whatever it was she did when outside class.
As the weeks progressed Hermione began to seriously question why this impostor Moody was not setting off any alarm bells. The man was first and foremost not teacher material, he had not only transfigured a student into an animal; but since then he had begun teaching his students about the uses and casting of the Unforgivables. Added with the lingering smell of Polyjuice Potion that saturated the air around, the man would have been a dead give away. She would never forget the smell and taste of that potion after her failed attempted use of it. She couldn't understand why Snape of all people had not at least picked up on that fact.
Had she not known beforehand that he was not who he seemed to be, she might have thought it a good idea to teach the students the true dangers of the Unforgivables and not just have them read it from a book. The problem was that every time he cast those spells in the classroom, every nerve in her body went on edge, the thought that with just a slight change in angle he could easily miss his intended target and kill one of the students before anyone could even realize what happened.
The impostor seemed to pick up on her feelings of unease, when the time came in his lesson where he began to place each student under the Imperius Curse and made them do things they normally would never have done. He seemed to take pleasure, when he called her forward for the first time and she hesitated, reluctant to raise from her seat. She didn't like the idea of anyone in her head, least of all, controlling her body, and the fact that her mental shields would be of absolutely no use in defending against the curse.
He cast the spell despite her refusal to stand from her seat, her Occlumency shields seemed non-existent, as the spell took effect, and her mind had gone into a state of tranquil calm, as if nothing mattered and all her worries simply slipped away. Suddenly she had the strong desire to get up from her seat and get on her desk to dance a happy jig.
She stood from her seat. The chair scraped loudly against the wood floor, as she pushed it back and put her hands on the top of her desk, ready to lift herself up on its smooth surface.
Danger!
Something inside her screamed, and her muscles locked up on their own accord. The urge to get on the desk became even greater, and her arms began to shake, as her mind willed them to help pull her onto the desk and her body refused to budge against the foreign prompting.
She was so confused — she knew what she wanted to do, what she needed to do, and yet every fiber of her being was telling her not to do it, not to listen to her head. Her head was wrong. The feeling of wrongness got stronger, as she raised a leg to get up on the desk, as the urge to get on became even stronger. Finally something snapped and instead of placing her knee on the desk to climb on, her foot lashed out and kicked over the desk, something seemed to release her and her mind was finally clear. Hermione kicked the desk again for good measure, just to make sure her limbs were hers to use once again. She really didn't like this man, she decided, glaring at him and sitting back down on her chair, her desk remained in its tipped over state; he could pick it up she thought vehemently.
Only one other person had been able to throw off the effects of the curse, she was glad to find that Harry could throw it off as well. At least she didn't have to worry about the Impostor Moody simply having him wander off during a Hogsmeade visit.
After the Imperius class Hermione decided something had to be done with the man, it was getting close to the time when the other schools would be arriving and the choosing of the Champions. She had to find some proof that he wasn't the real Moody. Her best bet, she decided, was to find out where he was hiding the real Moody and take him to Dumbledore.
This would mean that she would need to sneak into his private chambers, and for that she was going to need help. Pulling George and Fred aside she commissioned their help.
"I need you to cause some sort of distraction after dinner, anything to delay the teachers from leaving," she asked, pulling them aside into a secluded alcove behind one of the large wall tapestries after lunch. "Do you think you could do that?" The two looked at each other then her before smiling, mirrored conspiratory grins.
"Up to no good, are we?" George asked with a knowing smirk.
"I solemnly swear it," she said with a mischievous wink, both young men stared at her open mouthed and dumbfounded.
"You?!" Fred blurted out at the familiar words that had been uttered countless times, as he and his brother had made use of the Marauder's Map.
"I have no idea what you are talking about," she denied smugly. "Now, will you help?"
"Should we even bother asking what you are up too?" George asked, getting over the fact that their brother's rule abiding friend had managed to not only dodge their pranks for a year, but also snuck their prized Map right out from under their noses.
"No," she said simply, "like I said, sometimes the rules need a little bending, and now is one of those times."
Fred nodded before pondering over their current products and those that were still in the testing phase.
"We could test out the Portable Swamp, and the Fanged Frisbee could always use some tweaking," he supplied.
"What about the Blizzard In A Bottle, we haven't tried that one out yet."
"You think it's ready?"
"Ready enough for testing, we already fixed the issue with the temperature dropping too far. No one should freeze to death, probably."
"I don't care what you do, just keep them occupied for as long as you can," Hermione said, as the two began debating the pros and cons of plunging the Entrance Hall into a sudden untested snow storm. "Just don't go freezing anyone to death," she added, slipping out of the alcove after making sure the coast was clear.
She slipped away just after dinner that evening, changing out of her robes and into a pair of dark pants and a soft black leather jacket she had picked out to replace her sweater she had used last year. It was charmed with the spell that prevented anyone from clearly making out her face, when the hood was up. Leaving her things in the alcove she made her way to the room located above the Defence teacher's private quarters, her footsteps were quiet as she left her sneakers with her school things and was thankful the weather was still warm, meaning the stone floors were not freezing yet. Entering the Muggle Studies classroom that was located above the room that she wanted to enter, she pulled out the Map from one of the many pockets in her jacket and opened it to the Great Hall. There at the teachers table was the label 'Barty Crouch Jr'. At first she had thought Crouch, the Ministry worker, had slipped in to visit the school, but then realized this must be the impostor, she would have to look him up, when she was done with this. To think that Crouch's son was a Death Eater made her question the man's own loyalty, as families tend to join together, though there were some exceptions. When she saw a mass of named dots rush out to the Entrance Hall, she knew the twins had started their distraction.
Stuffing the Map in her pocket, she opened the classroom window and hoisted herself out. The door to his private quarters was heavily warded, trying to break through was sure to take time and possibly alert him to meddling, but being on the third floor it was unlikely he would protect his windows as heavily. The stone was cold and rough under her hands and feet but the worn stone had many good holds as she slipped down the wall. Had her friends saw her they might have questioned how she could be so good at climbing at such a height, but put her on a broom a few feet up and she was a terrified mess. It wasn't height that scared her so much, but the prospect of having nothing solid and steady under her that was so terrifying.
The brick mortar was worn, leaving gaps in the bricking that were perfect hand and foot holds; but it also gathered moisture as she soon found when her foot slipped on a slick section. Thankfully she had had a good hold with her hands to compensate for the loss of leverage, when her other foot had lost its hold as well when her balance was off. After some tentative searching, she managed to catch herself and find a more solid footing before continuing the last few feet to her targeted window ledge.
Settling on the sill outside the window, she pulled the Map out briefly to check on Moody's position and found his and a number of the other teacher's dots running about the Entrance Hall, while the students crowded around the doorways.
Checking the window, she found a spell, triggered to go off should it be broken in any way, and magically unlocking it had no effect. Crouching on the sill, she pulled out a small folding knife from a pocket and slipped it in between the window frame and the window. Some shifting and relocating soon found the knife pushing the latch of the window up and it swinging open on soundless hinges.
Slipping into the room, she began going through his things, looking for signs of where he was hiding Moody, according to the Map he was in the room with her. She looked everywhere, in the armor, under the bed, in the bathroom. Then she came to a large trunk and found it sealed tight, judging by the Map he must be in the trunk, as his dot was right next to her's. She tried unlocking it magically, breaking the lock and even picking the lock the Muggle way. It wasn't a skill she was great at, but given the time she could get most locks open, inserting the fine pick in the lock only ended with them melting once inside. Crouch Jr had put quite a lot of heavy protections on it, she didn't think she could get it open without blasting it apart and that might harm the real Moody.
Deciding to look for some other means of exposing Barty, she began digging through his things, when she came across a number of bottles in a cupboard. A sniff revealed it to be his Polyjuice Potion supply. She contemplated spitting in it to make the potion ineffective, but then realized that would only end up turning Crouch into her. Taking the next best way, she went over to the tank holding a rather nasty looking water creature and took some water from the tank to dilute the bottles of potion. With any luck he would not notice his potions weren't working and would continue to take it until he turned back to his normal self.
Finishing, she slipped back out of the window, closing it behind her and began the climb back up to the Muggle Studies classroom. She rejoined the rest of the school after changing back into her school things and found the Entrance Hall turned half into a swamp and half into a snow covered land, a number of students had braved the icy floor and slid right into the swamp water and come out covered in mud and slime. The teachers were still trying to melt the worst of the ice as the snow came down in scattered patches, and there were patches where the snow and ice didn't form at all, an obvious defect in the product that would need to be addressed. A nod to the twins as she joined her year mates in heading up to their dorm, letting them know she had been successful in her snooping.
Finally the day of their guest schools's arrival came and classes were let out early to let the students be free to greet their guests. Snape was rather cross about the whole affair as it was cutting into his lesson time in teaching about antidotes; he had gone so far as to threaten the class that they better pay attention, as he might just poison the class to see who was actually listening.
The students bustled out of class and headed to the Entrance Hall that was now free of snow and swamp, but still had a lingering odor of rancid water. The arrival of the two schools was quite a sight with the Beauxbatons's flying horse drawn carriage and Durmstrang's ship with the skeletal look of a resurrected wreck from the Lake.
They were ushered off to the Great Hall where they would wait for the other schools to disembark from their transports and be formally greeted by the Headmaster, as the Heads of both guest schools had come ahead to greet Dumbledore before going back to collect their charges.
"I can't wait for the choosing, I hear Cedric is entering," said an excited Ernie Macmillan, as he walked with some other Hufflepuffs in front of their group on their way to the Great Hall.
"Cedric?" Ron asked in confusion.
"You know Cedric Diggory, he rode the Portkey with us to the Cup," Harry answered.
"You really think he is Champion material?" Ron asked, wrinkling his nose in distaste. "I mean, he is fair enough at Quidditch, but really, the judge wouldn't choose him."
"Why not? " Hermione asked curiously. "He's smart, athletic and a Prefect. All good qualities to look for."
Ron scoffed at this. "You're just saying that because he's handsome." This caused Hermione to break into laughter, the boys gave her an odd look.
"I'll admit he is not bad on the eyes, but that isn't the reason I think he would be a good Champion," she said, getting her laughter under control, but was still snickering. "Honestly, Ron, what made you think I would choose him for his looks?"
"What about Lockhart, you were swooning over him for a year, and he had the brain of a troll," Ron pointed out smugly.
"Oh, come on, I was 13 and he was a celebrity," Hermione said in her defence. "I would like to think that I've matured since then, honestly, Diggory isn't really my type, anyway."
"What's your type?" Ron asked rather pointedly, as if the idea of her having a type had never occurred to him until she brought it up. Hermione had to pause and think about this, what was her type? She had never actually done any dating in her time. Her previous relationships had been purely physical and nothing lasting more than a night. If she was honest her relationship with Remus was the closest thing to a romantic relationship she had ever had, and apart from that Christmas Eve they had spent together their relationship had been kept strictly on friendly terms. She liked the man well enough, and he was always someone she could talk intellectually about magical subjects, though he was a bit lacking in the Muggle ones, they were still able to sit comfortably for hours and discuss a topic.
She had to admit that despite that she found their conversations enjoyable and that she found him physically attractive; she felt there was just something missing. Being with Remus was like curling up warm and safe in front of a fire in winter; comforting and safe and almost stifling. Having spent nearly a third of her life in high risk environments she had, though she was reluctant to admit it, grown to have a rather particular taste for danger. A relationship with Remus was easy, it was safe and it was missing the wild sense of danger that got her blood pumping in expectation. Despite being a werewolf, she had to admit he was almost too tame for her taste for danger.
"Someone who can keep up with me in an intellectual conversation and preferably older," she said finally, figuring they were both truthful statements and wouldn't sound strange from a fifteen year old.
"How does Diggory not fit into your type?" Ron asked incredulously, "you said so yourself he's smart, and two years older than you." Hermione mentally winced at this, Ron couldn't realize that Diggory was in fact three years her junior.
"He just doesn't," she said simply with a shrug, as they entered the Great Hall. Taking their seats they watched as each of the guest schools chosen entered. First was the Beauxbatons who entered in a flurry of skirts and coat tails alongside their large Headmistress. Hermione could only sit there and shake her head, as Ron was beginning to drool, while he leaned dangerously out of his seat to get a better look at the passing french girls, as they passed with their male counterparts. Judging by the number of students doing the same, at least one or more of the foreign girls had to be part-Veela. Even Harry was looking at them longingly, as they moved to sit with the Ravenclaws.
Next came the Durmstrang, one of the fur garbed men seemed to have a similar reaction as the Veela from both the female and male population, as none other than Victor Krum led his classmates in with his Headmaster. Ron was nearly acting very much the part of a rabid fan, as he watched his idol stroll by only a few feet away. Harry was excited as well, but not to the near obsessive point that Ron had reached, which was slightly dampened, as the Durmstrang students moved to sit with the Slytherins. Draco seemed very smug, as Krum sat down beside him.
At the head table a chair was enlarged so that Madame Maxime could take a seat as Headmaster Karkaroff sat down beside Snape. The two men seemed to recognize each other before Karkaroff turned to begin talking with Dumbledore. A short time later they were also joined by Ludo Bagman and Mr. Crouch.
Hermione watched as Crouch Jr, still looking like Moody, glared daggers at his father who had entered. So he and his father were not on friendly terms, she guessed. She hoped that her sabotage of his potion would take effect soon, but that entirely depended on how much he had on his person when she had ruined the batch in his room. She thought it would be quite a show should he change back in the middle of dinner.
Sad to say no such show occurred and dinner progressed as usual though there was a great deal more chatter than most evenings given the special occasion. After the dishes had been cleared Dumbledore brought out a large case that was revealed to be holding the Goblet of Fire, the object that would choose the Champions for the Tournament. The Goblet was to be left out for those of age to enter, and the following night the Champions would be chosen. Dessert finished and the students dispersed as they scattered back to their dormitories, ship or carriage respectfully.
Hermione slipped out of her bed as soon as Lavender and Parvati had drifted off. Having left on her dark pants when she had gone to bed, she pulled her dark leather jacket on and grabbed her boots before heading downstairs. Pausing on the stairs to pull her boots on, she was just entering the common room. Pulling out her Map she saw that Crouch Jr was patrolling the first floor and was close to the Great Hall. She would have to hurry if she was going to make it there before he had a chance to do any tampering with the Goblet. Passing through the Portrait hole she leapt out onto something that gave a yelp. Looking down, she realized she had jumped down onto a sleeping Neville who stared, sleepily blinking up at her.
"Hermione. Wha are you—" His groggy voice was cut off, as she hoisted him from the ground and locked her arm around his neck and tightened till his words were silenced with her hand.
"Shh, Neville, you're dreaming," she whispered, softly increasing the pressure until the boy passed out. Throwing him over a shoulder, she carried him into the common room and deposited him on the nearest couch. She would do a minor memory wipe if needed later, if he didn't forget seeing her by the next morning on his own. She didn't have time now as she exited the common room at a run, Moody was already on the move and she needed to keep Crouch Jr from placing Harry's name in the Goblet. That was her only thought, as she moved through the castle.
Glancing at the Map, when she was forced to duck into an alcove, when Filch passed by on his nightly patrol, revealed that Crouch Jr had made it into the Great Hall. Slipping out of her hiding spot once Filch was past, she ran to the moving staircases. Leaping on the railing, she vaulted over not bothering to wait for them to realign, she landed on the stairs below for only a moment before leaping on another that was moving to the floor she wanted. Slipping into a secret passage that would take her right outside the Great Hall, she made it to the entrance just in time to see Crouch Jr slip out of the doorway, pausing to take a sip from his hip flask before heading up the main staircase to continue his patrol.
"Dammit," she cursed quietly, running out of the passage and into the Great Hall. The Goblet stood there innocently on its stand, its flames the only light in the room, as the night sky of the ceiling was overcast. Stepping over the Age Line encircling the item, Dumbledore had placed it to keep the younger students from placing their names in despite him stating that they were not allowed.
Pulling her wand she cast Manifesto Accessa. The flames flared as the Hogwarts crest appeared above a list of names written in glowing ember letters in the handwriting of each student, Harry's was not among them. Another flair and the list and crest was replaced with the shorter list of Beauxbatons students and their crest. The flames flared again and instead of taking on the Durmstrang crest another appeared with the name of Harry Potter in a handwriting not his own before the flames returned to normal. The Durmstrang students appeared to be waiting to enter till tomorrow. Harry seemed to have been entered under the American school of magic, Salem Academy, judging by the crest.
"Dammit," she cursed, beginning to pace back and forth in front of the Goblet, her hand gripping at her hair before rubbing them down her face in frustration. She hadn't been fast enough to prevent Harry from being entered. With a resigned sigh, she stashed her wand and turned to face the Goblet. There was only one option left, as she reached into one of her many jacket pockets.
It was Halloween night and the whole school was abuzz with excitement as the Hogwarts students and their guests gathered after the feast for the naming of the Champions. Hermione sat, picking at her pudding nerves eating away at her appetite, as she hoped her plan worked, if Harry's name came out of the Goblet, she didn't know what she would do. Probably convince Sirius to take him out of school till the Tournament was over. She could barely handle watching him fly around at breakneck speeds with demented bludgers being hit at him, she didn't think she would be able to sit by and watch him be put through the challenges the Tournament entailed.
At one end of the table Fred and George were looking far younger than they had that morning, when they had attempted an Ageing Potion to get past the Age Line. It failed spectacularly, as despite her warnings the two stepped over the Line and were immediately ejected from the circle before being sent to the Hospital Wing, sporting some very fine long beards.
The dishes cleared themselves, as Dumbledore clapped his hands to get everyone's attention.
"Now the Goblet is almost ready to choose our Champions. Now please, if you are chosen, make your way to the front and into the chamber there," he explained, indicating the door off the staff table. "There you will receive your first instructions."
At that moment the Goblet flared and the flames turned blue, and a slip of charred paper was spat out. Dumbledore snatched it from the air.
"The Durmstrang Champion is Victor Krum." There was a roar of applause from the Durmstrang students, as the Quidditch star stood and headed to the front. Once he was out of the room the Goblet spit out another paper. This one for Fleur Delacour for Beauxbatons. She stood and strolled confidently up the aisle, as her schoolmates applauded her, her silver hair swishing stylishly behind her, as a number of the male population stared. Another paper was chosen and Cedric Diggory was sent strolling up to the front with the collective cheers of the Hogwarts students, even Ron and Harry reluctantly clapped along, as they had been hoping Angelina would be chosen.
"Good, good, now that we have our three Champions it is up to the rest of you to support them, as they take on the challenges to come—" The Headmaster trailed off in distraction, as the Goblet threw out another paper. Dumbledore caught it, a curious look crossing his face before he flipped the slip of paper over and read aloud.
"Hermione Granger."
Hermione sat there in wide-eyed shock, as everyone turned to stare at her. Inside she was breathing a sigh of relief, there had only been a 50/50 chance that she would be chosen, but it was better than having Harry alone in the drawing. She couldn't have been sure the Goblet would choose her, but she had hoped it would recognize her as the better choice.
"Hermione, move," Harry whispered to her, as Dumbledore called her name again, a light push from Ron finally forced her to forget her worries for a time and follow the same route the other three Champions had taken, she glanced over the teachers as she passed: McGonagall looked disproving and Hagrid looked worried, as she passed. Karkaroff looked angry, as did Madame Maxime. Snape was watching Dumbledore who was staring at the back of the paper slip, his eyes glanced briefly at her before looking back at the Headmaster who had tucked the paper in his pocket. Crouch Jr, Hermione noted, looked positively furious, as he took a long drink from his hip flask. He licked his lips in almost a serpent-like fashion before he composed himself, although his one good eye still glared, his magical one followed her progress into the other chamber.
"Granger, what are you doing here, do they want us to come back in?" Cedric asked, seeing her walk in and bringing the other two Champions' attention to her. Hermione just shook her head, as the door opened and the three school heads along with McGonagall and Snape walked in with Bagman and Mr. Crouch.
"It would seem this year we will be having four Champions," Bagman said excitedly, patting Hermione on the shoulder. Fleur and Victor were outraged at this turn of events, as they turned to their Heads for clarification.
"Madame Maxime, they are saying that this little girl is to compete with us!" Fleur complained loudly in french to her Head Mistress, Hermione glared at her.
'Little, my ass. Say that to my face, you pampered poodle,' she thought venomously, stomping down the urge to speak her mind, in the girl's native tongue no less.
"Dumbledore, how could you let this happen, I thought your Age Line would keep the younger students from entering, unless you are admitting younger ones. In that case we would have brought a wider selection of our own," Karkaroff said, watching Dumbledore coldly, all the while a smile gracing his face.
"It would be rash to go pointing fingers until all the facts are clear, don't you think, Igor?" Snape said coolly, causing Karkaroff to glare at him.
"Thank you, Severus," Dumbledore said before turning to Hermione. "Did you put your name in the Goblet, Ms. Granger?"
"I had no desire to enter this Tournament at all, Sir," she said honestly, looking from the Headmaster to her Head of House.
"Do you know anyone who would want to put your name in, maybe one of the older students?" Hermione shook her head at Dumbledore's questioning gaze.
"No, Sir," she said. "I'm not really close with any of the students old enough to enter." This seemed to satisfy him with her answer for now. Bagman took over explaining how the First Task was meant to test their daring and courage in facing the unknown before he and Mr. Crouch left. The other two Heads left as well along with Cedric who was dismissed to bed. Hermione moved to leave as well.
"One moment, Ms. Granger." Hermione turned to face the three remaining people in the room.
"Sir?"
"Does the name Nemo mean anything to you? Anyone you know?" Dumbledore asked, his blue eyes boring into hers, she could feel his mind brushing against her shields.
"No, Sir, I don't know anyone by that name," she said, projecting an air of confusion in her mind, if he tried to delve deeper, she would block him out completely. He seemed content with her answer and withdrew. McGonagall looked confused by the question while Snape seemed to have caught onto what Dumbledore was getting at.
"Very well, off to bed with you," he dismissed her, Hermione slipped quickly out of the room.
"What is going on, Albus?" McGonagall asked before Dumbledore pulled a paper from his pocket. And held it out for her to take.
"What is this?" she asked, waving the paper that read 'Hermione Granger - Salem Academy'.
"The other side," Dumbledore said, gesturing for her to flip it.
'There is an imposter in your midst set on putting Potter up for slaughter. If you're reading this, he failed. I'll be in contact. -N'
"Potter… what does this mean?"
"It means, someone intended to enter Potter in the Tournament, and this Nemo character entered Granger instead," Snape explained, pondering over the imposter part.
"Nemo?" McGonagall asked, not familiar with the name.
"He helped Sirius Black and Remus Lupin capture Pettigrew last year. Both men were adamant that they know nothing of who he is," Dumbledore informed her.
"Doubtful, those two have always been good at avoiding the truth," Snape said haughtily, then something dawned on him. "Albus, do you think it wise to send Granger off alone? If Nemo did foil this impostor's plans, wouldn't that make her a target?!"
"Crucio!" the voice echoed off of the empty halls, as the students had long been ushered off to bed. A pained scream followed the exclamation. Hermione would have cursed herself for not realizing she was being followed, had her mind not been consumed by the pain that lit every nerve in her body on fire. It was like the time she had fallen in the fire ant nest all over again. The spell let up, and she gasped out for breath.
"Who put your name in?" Crouch Jr snarled, his peg leg had been discarded, as his own leg had grown back. He had drained down the last of his potion, only to find it had no effect, and tossed the flask violently aside, as his gray hair began to turn black and his face slimmed.
"Fuck off," she spat out, blood and saliva trailing from her mouth, as she had bitten her tongue while under the torture curse.
"Crucio!" Hermione clenched her teeth to keep from screaming, as her whole body burned with white hot pain. Her vision went spotted, as the curse was released, only to have it cast again; by sheer force of will she pulled her wand from its holster and blindly threw a number of non-verbal spells out until her vision went black and her body went limp.
Barty cursed as he picked himself up after having been thrown back by one of the girl's spells and slammed into the wall. Picking himself up he saw the girl begin to stir, moving toward her he was brought up short by the hurried sound of footsteps. Cursing, he turned and ran off, he wouldn't be able to stay here any longer with his cover blown, and there was no need to watch over the Potter boy with the plan having failed.
The Headmaster and two Heads of House came into the corridor to find it empty save Granger who was bracing herself against the wall, as she stood, wiping blood from her mouth. She was still seeing spots in her vision and waving a hand in the general direction the man had gone, her other hand firmly gripping the wall to keep herself from falling over. McGonagall rushed over and caught her by the arm, when she began to teeter dangerously.
"Who did this to you, my dear," Dumbledore asked kindly, as McGonagall stabilized her. Snape looked her over and could tell right away what curse she had been put under. He was honestly surprised to find her on her feet already, rather than looking terrified at the ordeal she had been through she looked, for lack of a better word… pissed, as she tried to wriggle out of McGonagall's grasp, only to stumble on shaky legs.
"Moody's not Moody," she mumbled out, and Dumbledore looked at Snape who nodded.
"See Ms, Granger to the Hospital Wing, Minerva," he said before heading off down the corridor with a speed unusual to see in a man of his age, and he and Snape went to track down the culprit.
"Come along, Ms. Granger, let's get you to Pomfrey. She will make you feel better."
By the next morning it was all over the school. That Professor Moody had been, in fact, a Dark wizard; the real Moody had been found and sent off to recover in St. Mungo's. Hermione Granger had been attacked by the impostor and was recovering in the Hospital Wing. The Dark wizard was still nameless and had managed to escape the school.
Ron and Harry had been called from bed early that morning by McGonagall. They had been very cross, when Hermione had not come to talk to them that evening; but at the news that she was in the Hospital Wing they had rushed off to check on her.
They entered to a scowling Hermione who was sitting cross legged on her bed.
"Professor, can you please tell Pomfrey, I can go?! I'm perfectly fine," she begged, as her friends rushed over to check on her.
"'Mione!"
"Hermione! Are you alright?" Harry asked. Hermione told them the minimum of what had happened, not wanting them to freak out that she had been tortured by a Death Eater right in the school.
"I'll see what I can arrange, Ms. Granger. You're very lucky to not be more seriously injured."
"At least have her unstick me from this bed, I'm getting a cramp," she said, attempting to throw herself off the bed only for her rear to remain stuck firmly to the mattress. The boys laughed at this, as Harry had been in the Hospital a number of times and Pomfrey had never had to resort to sticking him to the bed to keep him there.
Eventually she was released, but not before Hagrid had come to see her, and she had gotten a concerned letter from Sirius and Remus after hearing from Harry that she had been chosen for the Tournament and as a result was attacked.
Late that evening Hermione put on her leather jacket and dark pants before removing her glamours and fastening her voice-altering choker in place. Moving through the halls, she followed a dot on the Map as it moved about the second floor. Moving to one of the windows that opened to the front lawn, she leaned against the frame and waited.
"Who's there?" a voice asked, as a wand was lit and someone approached her.
"I told the Headmaster that I would be in touch," she said neutrally, as she looked away from the window to eye Snape's wand leveled at her.
"Nemo."
"Yes, that is one name I go by. It seems you lot failed at catching Barty Crouch Jr even with my tip," she stated bluntly, her irritation slipping through at his escape and Snape bristled.
"Crouch Jr is dead, he died in Azkaban years ago."
"According to whom?" she questioned, folding her arms over her chest.
"His father."
"And a father would never lie to protect his son," she stated snidely, "I am sure without a doubt the one who entered this school in the guise of Alastor Moody was Barty Crouch Jr. He intended to enter Potter into the Tournament to weaken him so that at the end of the year he might be perfect for abducting to perform a ritual of resurrection that requires him."
"Resurrection of what?" Snape asked, but he already knew, the darkening of his Mark was proof enough.
"Him." Nemo clarified.
"Why involve the Granger girl, why not put in one of the older students."
"She can take care of herself. I would not have chosen to put her name in otherwise, nor would the Goblet have chosen her if she was not up for the challenge. Though, any assistance you have to offer would not be easily turned aside, should you choose to offer your services," she said, causing Snape to scoff. "Keep an eye on Potter, I do not doubt that they will try again to take him before the Tournament is over. Now I must take my leave."
"Not so fast, I'm sure the Headmaster would love to question you on where you get all this information."
"I'm sure he would," she said chuckling right before she dodged the Stunner he sent her way; she caught him off guard by grabbing his wrist, tripping him over her outstretched foot. She was gone before he could regain his balance, jumping out the window. Hitting the ground with a roll, she was on her feet and running toward the cover of the trees. Doubling back she slipped under the Whomping Willow before leaving the Shack and entering the school through the Honeyduke's entrance. She was just heading up to her dorm to the sight of Snape, pacing in front of Dumbledore's desk, which the Headmaster was behind.
Author's Notes:First of thank you all who reviewed and help me get past that 100 review milestone. Special Thanks to Mama123 who was not only the first reviewer of this story but also the 100th one, thank you so much for sticking with me all this time. So here is my spin on the Goblet of Fire hope you enjoyed it, was it a surprise or was I obvious? It is obvious to me but then again I know everything so I can't tell. I can't wait for the next chapter focusing on the first task, I have been dying to do it so much I actually wrote out the entire dragon part of the task and had it complete before I even had the first chapter of the summer done. I just love it! All I can say is it's going to be big and Hermione is going to keep her spell work at a fourth year level and not rely on stunners. I couldn't believe my luck at actually finding the spells I wanted in the Harry Potter wiki to do what I wanted to and keep them in her year range. McGonagall is going to be so proud of her ;)
Next Chapter 17:If This Should End In Fire, I Hope That You Remember Me-The First Task things begin to heat up as Hermione comes face to face with a very angry Mama Dragon.
Edited-08/08/18
German Translation by the wonderful and patient Alea Thoron.