In the months to come, news of Grindelwald's defeat at the hands of a group of mere students had spread far and wide. Not everyone was pleased with the news, mind you. There were still those who had supported Grindelwald that weren't too pleased with them, but after their demonstration at the Christmas Ball, in which many of Grindelwald's closest supporters had lost their lives trying to avenge him, they knew not to try anything.
The Ministry had been among the first to hear. It was a real surprise when the Minister for Magic himself, Leonard Spencer-Moon, came knocking at their door, notifying them that they were each to be awarded First Class Order of Merlin. Hermione was shocked to say the least, and honestly didn't know what to say, but eventually accepted all the same.
The ceremony had taken place about a week later at the Ministry. Some of the most powerful and influential witches and wizards were present, much to Tom's pleasure. Everyone was eager to speak with the young heroes, especially the journalists and photographers from the Daily Prophet. They weren't as terrible as Rita Skeeter, thank Merlin she wasn't even alive yet, but they were still a nuisance.
Things were different when they returned to school in January as they were greeted with a hero's welcome. It seemed there wasn't a student who hadn't heard what they did. Everywhere they went, people would congratulate them on their achievement, some even asking for their autograph. They had become real celebrities throughout the school. Even among the teachers. Slughorn in particular did not hesitate to draw further attention to their heroic deed.
One of the only teachers who didn't draw attention to them was Dumbledore. In fact, he often attempted to do quite the opposite. Their Transfiguration Professor had taken to keeping an extra close eye on them, particularly Tom. Hermione couldn't help but notice how his face paled one day when he caught sight of Tom wielding the Elder Wand. It seemed to make him uneasy, as he cut class short that day.
While Tom and the rest of the Knights of Walpurgis thrived off of the praise and attention they received, Hermione found it overbearing and did her best to stay out of the limelight. It wasn't the first time she had been subject to such attention, having been well known as Harry Potter's best friend. She soon rediscovered that it wasn't all that it cracked up to be.
She remembered all the pain it brought in her original fourth year. All the lies that Rita Skeeter had spun about Harry and her. They had turned many people against them, even people that they had considered close friends. The last thing she wanted was for that to happen to her again, so she shunned photographs, ignored autographs, refused interviews and attempted to focus as much as she could on her schoolwork.
It was late one evening when Hermione slipped once more from her dormitory and off into the darkened school, as had become a regular occurrence by now, making her way stealthily towards the Defense Against the Dark Arts classroom.
She passed by Tom, who was on patrol as Head Boy that evening. Somehow Tom was always able to sense her, despite being disillusioned. She didn't quite know how he was able to, but she didn't really care enough to question it. Letting the disillusionment drop, she reappeared before him.
"Off to see your grandfather?" he asked.
She nodded. "And hopefully catch up on the last bit of homework," she explained. "I still have an essay that I wasn't able to complete because of everyone hounding me with questions and autographs."
He nodded in understanding. "Try not to stay up too late. It wouldn't do to have you falling asleep in class."
She rolled her eyes. As if she would. In all the time she had been at Hogwarts, and that was a lot, all things considered, she had never once fallen asleep in class. She wasn't about to break that record now.
Still, she knew that he was merely concerned for her well being. She smiled up at him appreciatively. "Don't worry. Professor Renshaw will make sure I don't stay up all night."
And then, sharing a quick kiss, they parted ways.
Hermione didn't bother with disillusioning herself again, as she wasn't far from the classroom. After a quick glance around, ensuring that no one else was around, she slipped into the classroom.
Professor Renshaw was actually seated at his desk in his classroom for once, much to her surprise. He usually preferred to spend his nights relaxing with a bit of music and a goblet of blood.
"It would seem you've created quite the reputation for yourself, Hermione," Renshaw addressed her without looking up from the papers on his desk. "I don't believe there has been a day since school resumed in which your achievements have not been brought up in conversation."
Hermione let out a sigh as she took a seat at one of the very front desks, setting her supplies down.
"Yes, it's most unnerving. I never realized just how much I valued my own personal space until now."
Renshaw let out a small low chuckle, but said nothing more.
Seeing that he was busy working on something, Hermione got straight to work on her own essay.
The essay in particular was for Ancient Runes, a class that she believed might serve her well in the pursuits of Alchemy. She had already chosen which particular rune to do her essay on, and had gathered a few books for necessary research, so it didn't actually take her that long to write.
Within an hour and a half she was finished, and so had Professor Renshaw. Glancing at the clock on the wall, she saw that it was nearly midnight already. She knew she should probably head back and try to get some sleep, but she wasn't ready to yet.
There was something she wanted to talk to him about… something that only he would fully understand.
"Does it ever go away?" she asked. "The guilt that comes with knowing you took the life of another?"
He considered her fully, a hint of sorrow in his dark eyes as he carefully considered her question. "Not entirely, no."
That was what she had been afraid of.
The events that took place at the Christmas Ball had left an impact, not just on her, but on all three of them. It was only natural. No matter how justified their reasons might have been for doing so, they had caused the death of many people that night, a few even by their own hands. In the rush of the moment she hadn't felt much of anything, but later, once she had allowed herself to calm down and her mind was able to fully process everything, it hit her full force. Her hands were stained with blood.
Abraxas quite possibly suffered with the after effects the most. He was burdened with the fact that he had killed his own father, something that his mother reminded him of on a near daily basis. As was to be expected, Mrs. Malfoy was heartbroken and furious, unable to look upon her son without breaking down screaming and crying. Hermione could see how haunted he was by it, but there was nothing she could do to lift his burden. He had brought this upon himself. She only hoped Hera would be able to help him in some way.
And Tom… Well, she was pretty sure Grindelwald's death at his hands had triggered something in him. He was a bit more jumpy than usual, reaching for his wand whenever something caught him off guard. She was relieved to find that he wasn't completely unresponsive towards it all.
"I suppose I wasn't as prepared for the mission as I thought."
"No one is ever entirely prepared to take a life."
His words didn't remove the guilt from her heart, nor did she expect them to, but they did fill her with a certain sense of peace. He understood the feeling, probably better than she would ever know. It made her realize just how terrible the guilt and grief her grandfather felt must be.
Shaking her head from such depressing thoughts, she rose from the desk and went over to stand beside him by his desk. As if sensing what it was she wanted, no, needed, he wrapped an arm around her shoulder and pulled her into his side. She was taken by surprise at the gesture, as he had never allowed himself such gestures of affection, but she soon relaxed into the hug. It comforted her to know that Professor Renshaw had at least warmed up to her more over the years.
"What are you working on?" she asked, changing the topic as she glanced down at all the papers on his desk. They didn't exactly look like homework.
"Ah, these are applications of possible candidates to replace me next year," he explained, retracting his arm to tidy up the mess of papers. "The headmaster has presented me with the task of choosing one."
"You're retiring?" her eyes widened.
"I've been meaning to do so for quite some time. I've only held off until now because of a certain relation of mine." He gave her a knowing look.
Long had she suspected that he would retire. She assumed that was why she had never met him during her original six years at Hogwarts. It made her happy that he had stayed longer for her sake, but still the thought of him leaving made her sad. This would be their last year at Hogwarts, meaning that these late night sessions with her grandfather would come to an end. The thought made her heart ache.
"What will you do?"
"I'm not entirely sure yet," he admitted. "What about you? I hear that Slughorn has great hopes for you."
"Actually, I intend to take a year off after graduation to travel and broaden my knowledge of this world," she explained.
He raised a single thick brow. "I suppose Riddle will be going with you." He didn't even try to hide his distaste at the idea.
Hermione giggled, rolling her eyes at him. Here he was playing the role of protective father once again. It wasn't so much that he disliked Tom, but rather that he had an old fashioned view on romance and how it should be carried out.
"Tom will be staying in Britain. Now that Grindelwald has been defeated and he has the Elder Wand in his possession, his next task is infiltrating the Ministry. He wants me to stay and help him, but… I have my own agenda."
"Surely you don't intend to travel on your own?" he insisted. "There is no denying that you are a powerful young witch, but that does not make the world any safer. There are those who would think nothing of attacking you."
She knew that he was most likely referring to his own kind. As touched as she was that he feared for her safety, she wasn't particularly worried.
"Well, you could always join me. That way you could make sure I'm not in any such danger," she suggested with a smirk.
He seemed to ponder it for a few moments, glancing over to meet her gaze every now and then before retracting it again.
"No, I shouldn't," he shook his head. "I would only hinder your travels, what with my nocturnal lifestyle."
Ah, yes… She had forgotten about that… They wouldn't be able to travel during the day.
"That's okay. I've heard that Paris is more beautiful at night anyway."
He gave her a strange look, as if he couldn't believe what he was hearing, that she was actually alright with the idea. It would make things a bit more difficult, not to mention different, but she was willing to change her plans to fit his lifestyle.
"You would be willing to travel with a vampire?"
She shot him a warning glare. "I don't care if you're a vampire or not. You're my grandfather and the only family I have left. I wouldn't have even suggested it if I wasn't willing."
He let out a sigh, bringing a hand up to run through his thick dark locks. He was conflicted, though she could see a flicker of longing as well.
"Alright, I shall agree to accompany you on your travels," he relented at last. "I can think of a few locations in which I might not mind revisiting."
She smiled with satisfaction. She had hoped that he would agree. With any luck she would be able to convince him to remain in permanent contact with her after Hogwarts. She wasn't about to let him slip off into the shadows, disappearing from her life once more.
"I look forward to visiting them with you."
