It was the chilly morning after Halloween that Hermione trudged up the familiar stairs to the Headmaster's office.

Hogwarts was different. The Gryffindors jeered and cried out whenever she was in the same room, and the Slytherins stood by her with such ferocity that many fights had broken out. It was to the point that the schedules had been rearranged so that Gryffindor and Slytherin were separated at all times. Sometimes she wished bitterly that she had been sorted into Slytherin.

Not that it was easier to be with the Slytherins. Any mention of the Dark Lord hurt, and it was the only thing the Slytherins cared about.

Most of the professors ignored her. McGonagall spent so much time studying her when she thought Hermione wasn't looking that Hermione had taken to hiding behind her textbook. The only professors who took pains to call on her were the Carrows, and Alecto had taken to calling her up for demonstrations at every opportunity. At one point she would have loved being the center of attention, but now she found herself dreading every lesson.

Her uncle had summoned her twice before, but she had sent her apology each time and feigned a headache. Both times he had sent a pain relieving potion and his wish for a speedy recovery.

Coram, who had been sorted into Gryffindor, showed up to most meals sporting a black eye or a busted lip, but he cheerfully waved to her at every opportunity, and steadfastly stayed at her side for all meals. They studied together on the weekends, and Hermione thought that if it weren't for Coram she might have asked to pursue a private study at home. The NEWTs seemed less important than an opportunity to escape the nightmare that Hogwarts had become.

She made a mental note to send for more bruise balm for Coram, and knocked firmly on her Dumble- on Professor Snape's office door.

"Enter!"

She took a deep breath, and pushed the door open.

The Headmaster's office was transformed. For her entire life it had been a whimsical study full of bright colors and tons of silver instruments that thrummed and chimed as if they had minds of their own.

Now it was a bare chamber, drafty and devoid of personality. The sword of Gryffindor hung over the desk, and the numerous portraits of past headmasters remained, but most portraits were empty. Only Phineas Nigellus Black remained. No, there was another.

A lump grew in her throat at the sight of a slumbering Albus Dumbledore. She felt as if she had been slapped, but she gamely pressed forward.

"Hermione?" her uncle sat clothed in his usual black behind the immense desk. "Please, sit down." He gestured towards the chairs in front of the desk, and Hermione dropped into one.

"I wanted to see how you've been faring. I haven't seen you in months."

She didn't want to tell him that she had been hiding from everyone other than Coram ever since term began.

"I'm…" Hermione swallowed.

"I've heard rumors about how the Gryffindors have been treating you. Pay them no mind, you and I know what really happened that night."

Hermione nodded. Then, rousing her courage, she said, "You said once that I could trust you with anything? That you were on my side regardless of- of anything?"

He regarded her for a moment, and then flicked his wand towards the door. A chime sounded, and a faint mist rose over the fireplace. "That will prevent us from being disturbed," he explained. Then he nodded. "Yes, I meant it then, as well as now. You and Draco are my godchildren, and I will strive to protect you. But if this is about Bellatrix's grand motion at the beginning of term, you do not have to explain."

She eyed him warily. "And why is that?"

He summoned two cups from a table beside his desk, and sighed. "Your mother and I have been- working together- since your father's imprisonment. She explained the turn in events a few days after the beginning of term."

"I see. So nothing is mine, not even the chance to explain what's going on with my fiancee."

Ignoring her tone, he passed her a cup and said, "Coffee. I find it helps keep me alert."

She ignored the drink and glowered at him. "Is nothing mine?"

"You have many posessions Hermione, don't forget that I've been to many birthday parties-"

"I mean important things!" She yelled. "My secrets aren't my own. My choices aren't my own. No one asked me if I wanted to work with the Order, they just assumed! I haven't been consulted on anything!"

His black eyes glittered. "Do you really want to stay with the Dark Lord after what he told Bellatrix?"

She hesitated, then spat "I wanted the option! What's the use in agency if I don't get to use it? Everything that has happened has happened to me without my consent. Dumbledore chose my position as a double agent. The Dark Lord chose to turn me into a celebrity. Bellatrix chose for us to betray the Dark Lord-"

"-and she made the decision to perform blood magic on you, which ultimately bound you together," said Severus. He had pressed his fingertips together while listening, and he tapped them slowly. It reminded her of Dumbledore.

She stared helplessly at him. "None of the major choices in my life were made by me. What's the point in living if I'm just-just a puppet!?" She smacked the tabletop hard enough to send her cup hopping into the air. It splattered coffee all over the desk.

He waited to see if she was done, and then waved his wand to dry the desk. For a moment they sat in silence, the only sound was the faint tick of her pocket watch. The pocket watch that her father gave her a few days before she returned to school. It had fie arms, two for her parents, one for Draco, one for Coram, and one for Bellatrix. All were pointed towards "in mortal peril."

Finally, he cleared his throat. "You are a child," he said softly. "You don't get to make your own decisions- No, don't interrupt. Until you finish school and live away from your parents, they will see you as a child. Perhaps not Bellatrix, but she's never been known to consult anyone before she makes a decision. Your parents on the other hand," he opened his hands, "are doing everything they can to protect you. Right now, that means working against the Dark Lord. Can you imagine any other action on their part?"

Slowly, she shook her head. The anger was still strong inside her chest, however.

Severus continued. "Dumbledore has never been good at seeing children for what they are. Children. All of the children under his protection have faced things they never should have. Think about that. But he is gone now, and there's nothing we can do about him."

"It's not fair," she said.

"No, it's not. But like it or not, your family is doing what they think is best." He sat back, and regarded her. "You do have a choice, and I'm surprised you haven't seen it yet. You can choose to follow the rest of your family, or, if you really feel it's for the best, you can go to the Dark Lord and tell him everything."

Her spine tingled, and she stared at him in shock, "I wouldn't- I couldn't-"

"You could," he said, his eyes were fierce. "You choose not to. You could go to him tonight- I'd allow you, of course, and tell him about Dumbledore, about your parents. You could tell him that Draco is not sick and that Bellatrix betrayed him to work with the Order. And you would be rewarded for it." He waved his hand, "They would die, of course. Well, perhaps not Draco, it depends on the outcome of the war, but your parents and Bellatrix would certainly be killed. You would be honored above all else, and perhaps the Dark Lord would feel genuine sorrow in a decade or so when he kills you."

She stared wide-eyed at him, and felt her hands shake. She balled her fingers into fists and tried to swallow.

"You see, Hermione. You always have choices." He said softly.

He was right. There were plenty of things she had done on her own. It didn't quite remove the anger she felt at all of them- The Dark Lord, Dumbledore, even her parents and Bellatrix. But it removed some of the sting. Slowly, she reached out and took up the cup.

"This is terrible," she said a moment later, after the bitter liquid had scorched down her throat.

"Well, no one's forcing you to drink it," he said, granting her a rare smile. "Tell me about your lessons. Alecto says she's been trying to persuade you to become an Auror after Hogwarts?"

Hermione rolled her eyes and scooted her chair forward. "You're not going to believe the things she's been making me do in class! Yesterday…

XX

Bellatrix swallowed, and checked that her wand was still up her sleeve. She was blindfolded again, but this time she had Kingsley walking on one side of her, and Narcissa on the other. Her stomach fluttered a bit as a door opened, then closed behind her. She tripped on something and Kingsley's hand steadied her. Tonight was the night she met Harry Potter. The one who was prophesied to end the Dark Lord.

"The blindfold stays on, I won't have her figuring out where we are."

Cold went through her as she recognized her estranged sister's voice. Andromeda was there. She was protecting the Potter boy. Despite her shock, Bellatrix smiled.

"Hello Andie."

There was a sharp intake of breath, and a female voice said, "Mum, are you-?"

Andromeda murmured, "I'm fine. Better keep your wand out though, just in case."

To her credit, Narcissa groaned, "I told you, Andie, we don't have to worry."

Andromeda's voice was crisp. "I'm not taking any chances, Cissy. We don't have any proof that this isn't a trap."

Bellatrix smirked harder, a stab of pride wriggled into her chest, despite the annoyance that bloomed there. "Easy, Cissy," she said, reaching out and squeezing her youngest sister's arm. "We'd feel the same way in her position." In the direction of Andromeda's voice she added, "I hope you have emergency Portkey's for each of you, otherwise you've disappointed me. Father taught us better than that."

Andromeda said nothing, but Bellatrix could practically feel the glower. She smiled brightly, and let Kingsley push her into a chair. The smell of cinnamon and wood polish hung in the air, and she tried to keep her face cheerful and defiant as the feet several people shuffled around.

"I said I'd only speak to Potter," she reminded whoever was in the room.

A defiant voice retorted, "You said that Madam Malfoy could be in the room. And anything you say to me can be said to Draco and Ron."

"Is that Potter, then?"

"It is."

A door closed, and Narcissa sighed. "It's just us now, Bella. But Kingsley is at the window looking in. He said to remind you that if anything happens to Harry-"

"Is it Harry now, Cissy? How much time do you spend with the boy?"

Something hit her shoulder, and she hissed in pain.

"Stop that now, Bellatrix! We don't have much time before Andromeda comes back. If Harry decides that this is a waste of time Kingsley and I will take you back immediately."

Sobering, Bellatrix shifted in the chair.

"You wanted to speak to me?" Potter said. He sounded as cheerful and un-burdened as ever. She wondered briefly if he ever had fun.

"I wanted to speak to you about the Horcruxes," she said, figuring it was better to get it over with.

There were four sharp intakes of breath, and Narcissa gasped, "Horcruxes?" at the same time that Potter said, "How do you know about the Horcruxes?"

It was Draco's soft voice that said, "Hermione. Hermione told him that we knew."

Bellatrix rolled her eyes. She could easily guess who Him was. "No, Hermione asked me one day what they were and I put two and two together."

"How could she?" asked Draco. Her nephew was clearly prone to hysterics. He got that from the Malfoy side of the family.

"Relax, Drakey," Bellatrix crooned. "It's not like she told me about Potter's besottment with Cho Chang."

There was another sharp intake of breath, and the temperature in the room plummeted.

"So it's true then?" said Potter slowly. "You've been possessing Hermione this whole time?"

Possessing? Did they have so little imagination. "We don't have time to discuss my relationship with Hermione," she said, ignoring Draco's scoff. "Suffice it to say that I know the Dark Lord has created Horcruxes, and I want to help destroy them. He seems to do things in groups of seven-"

"We reckon it's only six that he's made," said a voice Bellatrix recognized as Weasley's.

"But there's been two destroyed already?" Asked Bellatrix. Four wasn't so bad. Definitely better than six.

"Three," Weasley sounded proud. Good for him. He needed something to be proud of.

"Which leaves three to find and destroy," said Potter. "I think I know where two are."

"And I know where one is," said Bellatrix, feeling the excitement rise in her again. "There's a golden cup-"

Another round of gasping. They were really too excitable.

"Hufflepuff's cup!" Potter's voice sounded less hostile and more boyish.

Weasley exclaimed, "You really haven't enslaved Kingsley with a love potion!"

It was a good idea, but she had never excelled at potions. She didn't have the patience. "We don't have much time," she said. "I only have access to the Lestrange Vault through the end of the year. But the cup is there, and I think I can access it and destroy it. I don't know for sure that it's a Horcrux-"

"I'm sure it is," said Potter confidently. Then, as if remembering himself, he said, "But how can we be sure you really destroy it?"

"We'll destroy it together," Bellatrix offered generously. "And if you know where the other two are?" She waited hopefully.

"First get the cup," said Potter. "Then, when we know for sure that you're serious, we'll discuss your assistance with the other two."

"I won't be able to get the cup until a few days before Christmas," Bellatrix said. She decided to be perfectly transparent. Her pardon, and Hermione's safety, required the full cooperation of the Chosen One. And Kingsley. "My ex husband won't be out of the way until then. I have to be absolutely sure that he doesn't know what I'm up to."

"What's he doing then?" Asked Draco. He sounded suspicious.

"Party planning," she said simply. She didn't want to give them any fodder for the imagination. It was always better to get the muggles you planned to hunt from remote places.

A sharp knock at the window made her flinch, and she cursed herself as soon as it happened.

There was a shuffle, and then Harry's voice sounded from the other side of the room. "I'll send man owl to you. You can send it back when you've got the goblet."

Bellatrix nodded to show that she'd heard. Then she went through the tiresome process of letting Kingsley and Narcissa apparate her to a series of unrelated locations to "throw off her sense of direction." There was no point in telling them that she already knew where Andromeda lived. She didn't want her sister to switch locations, it was easier to keep track of her when she stayed in one place.

That evening, she sat in the darkened Thistledown and watched Dust Mouse munch on some hay. The chinchilla was tame enough to sit in her lap now and eat contentedly as she stroked her long fingers through the impossibly soft fur.

"I think we can make it work," said Bellatrix gently. "It won't be easy, but the boy is desperate. Desperation and trust and practically the same thing."

Rain pattered the windows so fiercely that she almost missed it. The pecking at the window was soft at first, and then more urgent. She looked over in surprise and stood. After stowing Dust Mouse (and her hay) back in the safety of her cage, she went to the window and flung it open.

A sodden owl plunged into the room and hooted cheerfully. It was barely bigger than a snitch, and the letter attached to it's extended leg was bigger than it was. It dragged him down, but he shot back up, hooting as if his soul depended on it.

"Come down here," she commanded, patting the corner of her bed. The owl spiraled down and landed on it's back. Before it could move again, she ripped the letter from it's leg and opened it.

It read:

Lestrange,

We don't trust you. Not yet, but we are grateful for your help. Enclosed you'll find a few galleons to buy Pig some food between now and Christmas.

H.P

"We need to teach them about messenger scrolls," she said, shaking out the galleons. "I can't imagine you eat that much," she said with a skeptical eye to the little owl. He still laid on his back, but kicked up his legs and hooted softer. "You must get the high quality stuff. I must say, I'm disappointed that it wasn't the pretty snowy owl. But anyways- Winky!"

Any guilt she felt at calling Hermione's elf disappeared when the little being popped into the room wearing a tea towel with the silver lioness that Hermione took as her crest. Any reminder of Hermione was welcome.

"Could you get an owl cage that duplicates itself to be in any room that I'm in?- Only in Thistledown, not in public." she asked the elf. "I'd like to keep this owl close."

"Winky can certainly find what Mistress' wife is looking for," said Winky happily. "Mistress hasn't been doing anything lately, so Winky is happy for a distraction."

"What do you mean she hasn't been doing anything?" Asked Bellatrix, she scooped up the little owl and held it as she sat on the bed.

"Mistress' dorm mates are being awfully rude to Mistress, and most of the school is being mean," said Winky, twisting the hem of her towel in her hands. "Mistress is eating less and less, and is sleeping more."

"It's because she's in Gryffindor," said Bellatrix, who was not yet aware that she was having a conversation with an elf. "If only Dumbledore-" her brows rose. "But Dumbledore is gone. Winky, if I write a letter to Snape, can you take it to him?" After a minute she added, "Please."

Winky nodded happily, and waited patiently while Bellatrix scrawled the note. Then took it off to Snape immediately.

XX

The next time Uncle Severus summoned her, Hermione went at once.

"Bellatrix had an idea," said Severus, a small smile playing on his lips, "And I must say that I approve of it heartily. Hermione, how would you like to be re-sorted?"

For a moment, Hermione could only stare at him, and then she said in a faint voice, "There hasn't been a re-sorting in fifty years."

"But it's not against the rules," said Severus gently. He opened a drawer and pulled the battered sorting hat forth. "Slytherin would love to have you, Hermione. But the choice is yours."

Hermione stared down at the hat, her chest tight. Slytherin had been everything she had ever wanted. She would be welcomed there, certainly. They would all welcome her there. No more shunning, no more nasty comments.

For a moment she pictured herself, decked out in green and silver. She could play act along with the best of them. Wax poetic about the Dark Lord and the bright future- the future that her whole family planned on destroying. She would be playing another part in Slytherin.

"No," she said firmly. "Thank you. I'm going to stay in Gryffindor."

Was it possible that someone could surprise her uncle? He stared at her in shock, but recovered quickly. With a flourish the hat was knocked back into the drawer, and she thought she heard it huff.

"I thought it was all you wanted," he said gently, "To be in Slytherin."

"It was," she said. "But I can be myself in Gryffindor. I can't be in Slytherin. Not anymore."

"But it would be easier," he reminded her.

She took a breath, and released it slowly. "I don't want easier." She said quietly. "I just want it to be over."

He nodded, and invited her to stay for lunch. Throughout the meal she thought she saw Dumbledore open one eye and smile at her, but each time she looked again he slumbered, his glasses sliding further and further down his nose until they teetered precariously on the edge.

Severus caught her looked and followed her gaze to the portrait. "I'm sure he would be proud," he said, dipping his spoon back into the beef stew.

Later, when she left, she could have sworn she heard Dumbledore's voice as she opened the door.

"I am."