A/N: Apologies for the delay in my posting of this chapter. Real life got in the way. I also must give a Content Warning: There are mentions of Sexual Assault/Rape in this chapter. Nothing actually happens, I swear. However, there are mentions of it in the first three sections.
Chapter Twelve
Hermione furrowed her brow as she watched the seventh year prefect pin a notice on the board near the common room entrance late Thursday evening. The Slytherin common room was completely full of students, all of whom were watching the proceedings with quiet intrigue.
Almost three weeks had passed since she and Sirius had spent the night together in the Room of Requirement, and she was looking forward to spending some more time with him tomorrow night. They'd determined that Friday was the night that worked best for them, yet Hermione had a feeling that whatever was being pinned on the notice board was about to put a damper on her and Sirius' plans.
"Enough with the suspense, Miss Burke," Sebastian Mulciber called out from the rear of the gathered group. "Do tell us what the notice is about."
Beatrice Burke took the time to straighten out her Hogwarts robes, making certain that her prefect badge wasn't skewed, before she cleared her throat and gave the common room a knowing smirk. "I've just returned from a meeting with the Head Boy and Head Girl. Professor Prewett has officially declared Friday evenings the time for his silly little duelling club. Beginning this week, thirty minutes after dinner, the Great Hall will be transformed into a duelling room for interested students who are third year and above." She paused, slowly peering at the other students staring back at her. "Third and fourth year students will be partnered with each other on one side of the Great Hall, while fifth, sixth and seventh years will be in a group of their own." She frowned. "I'm certain that Professor Prewett will explain the rules during the first club meeting. However, I was able to ascertain from the Head Boy that Prewett will be responsible for assigning our partners, and that we will have no choice but to duel our chosen opponents." She focused her attention on Hermione and gave her a pointed look. "Unfortunately no exceptions, Miss Granger. I've a feeling that Prewett will stick you with a few seventh year students due to your rumoured nonverbal hex against Crouch."
"The Headmaster has obviously influenced the professor's decision," Walden Macnair muttered thoughtfully to the students nearby. He smirked at Hermione. "Prewett doesn't seem like the kind of wizard who would lie unnecessarily. Dumbledore is obviously keen to learn more about you, Miss Granger."
"Rumoured nonverbal hex?" Mulciber questioned with amusement as he manoeuvred his way through the group and closer to where Hermione was standing near the front. "What'd Barty do to deserve it, Miss Granger?"
"Hermione defended my honour," Regulus crisply stated as he came to stand next to Hermione, "along with the honour of the Noble and Most Ancient House of Black." He lifted his chin ever-so-slightly, as if he were challenging Mulciber to question his authority. "As is her role as the future Lady Black."
Hermione felt her heart beat rapidly at Regulus' proclamation. She hadn't realised that Mulciber's questioning was anything more than a slight curiosity. But, from what she could deduce from Regulus' curt words, Mulciber was evidently questioning her status as the betrothed witch to the House of Black heir.
"Of course," Mulciber said as he held up his hands in a placating gesture. A slow grin erupted on his face. "What'd you hit him with?" His attention was entirely focused on Hermione. "Something cruel I hope."
Sighing, Hermione shook her head. "I would argue that it wasn't anything cruel at all. However, I'm certain both Lord Crouch and his son would disagree with my opinion." She swallowed and clasped her trembling hands together. "I successfully performed a nonverbal Bat-Bogey Hex, and swiftly followed through with a nonverbal Laxative Curse that I had read about in a book somewhere." She waved a hand dismissively around. "I can't remember where, exactly." In the library at Grimmauld Place prior to her fifth year, but Mulciber didn't need to know that particular detail.
A few of the students quietly chuckled at her commentary while Mulciber merely smiled as he crossed his arms across his chest. His expression turned cold as he stood just a little bit taller. "If you – or anyone else here – hits myself, Antonin or Thorfinn with a Laxative Curse during this little duelling club, I swear to you that our retaliation will be lengthy and unrelenting. Is that understood?"
The Cruciatus Curse, in other words, or something else equally as sinister. The wizard must've had access to another wand in order to carry out his usage of dark curses. Hermione tucked that knowledge in the back of her mind and gave him a curt nod of her head as the rest of the students loudly declared their understanding.
"Although, I wouldn't argue against bombarding dear Barty with a few more Laxative Curses for shits and giggles." Mulciber failed to hide his amused grin at his choice of words. "Lord Crouch is an absolute arse."
"What's the incantation, Granger?" Snape tersely questioned.
Hermione raised a brow at the bluntness of Snape's question, knowing that he wouldn't use the curse only on Barty; the Marauders were his intended targets. "Are you incapable of researching, Snape?" she asked. "I swear I've read somewhere that Slytherins are supposed to be resourceful."
"Just tell us what the incantation is," Snape insisted.
"What for?" Hermione paused for a moment as she took in the silent room around her. "I'm quite confident that every single person in this room knows that you've no interest in hexing Barty. However, you are interested in harming my betrothed and his friends." She crossed her arms across her chest and gave Mulciber a quick glance before focusing on Snape once again. "You've been warned by a number of your superiors already to leave Sirius, and the House of Black, alone. I highly suggest that you listen to them, Severus. It's for your own good."
The scowl on Snape's face deepened, bringing back memories for Hermione. It was identical to what she had seen in the Shrieking Shack at the end of her third year. His hatred for Sirius apparently hadn't changed at all since he was a teenager. "Black is in Gryffindor," Snape hissed. "Gryffindor's are free reign here."
Rolling her eyes, Hermione couldn't keep her annoyance hidden at such a childish statement. "I think my answer was quite clear. Do with it what you will." She focused her attention on their audience. "Does anyone else have an issue with my betrothed and the House of Black?"
Macnair gave her a quick shake of his head, as did Wilkes and Avery. Carrow merely stared at her in silence. He had an odd, predatorial look in his eyes that gave Hermione the creeps.
She was thankfully able to suppress her shudder as the group of students began to disperse around the common room.
"You heard the witch!" Mulciber barked. "The House of Black is off limits!" He smirked at Hermione and gave her a wink before rejoining Dolohov and Rowle standing some distance away.
"Let's go for a walk, Hermione," Regulus muttered in her ear as he slipped his hand in hers.
Hermione pressed her lips together tightly as she allowed him to pull her out of the common room to somewhere more private. They evidently needed to have a chat without anyone around to listen in.
She only hoped that she hadn't buggered everything up with her defence of the House of Black.
...
...
"Did I fuck up, Reg?" Hermione questioned once an elf set their mugs of hot chocolate and plate of ginger nut biscuits on the table in the kitchen.
She reached out and clutched her mug in both hands, Regulus doing the same while seated on the bench next to her.
"No," he said with a smirk after enjoying a small sip of his warm drink. "You did very well defending my House and my brother."
"But?" Hermione raised a brow and twisted in her seat to face Regulus better. She peered at him over her mug as she enjoyed her beverage.
"You were a bit… blunt in regards to Snape," Regulus conceded. "Although, that can be explained by your home schooling so I wouldn't worry too much." He set his drink down on the wood table and reached for a biscuit. "Snape's a git who deserved to hear your not-so-subtle threat. That being said, you have to remember that he's well-versed in getting under people's skin." He munched on his food for a moment. "Drives my brother mad. Potter too."
Hermione considered his comment for a few minutes in silence. "Do you have any advice on how I should go about not letting him get under my skin? I need to find a way to befriend him as well," she reminded Regulus quietly. "But, I have no idea how to do so. I can't even sit with him in Potions, which was my original plan. Snape's constantly surrounded by his friends."
Regulus grimaced, giving her a shrug of his shoulders as he popped the last bit of biscuit in his mouth. He chewed for a moment before responding. "You won't be able to befriend him after your threat. Snape holds grudges like no one else I've ever known, including my own mother."
"So I did fuck up then." Hermione placed her mug on the table and hid her face behind her hands. She wanted a do-over, and desperately so.
Regulus was silent for a few minutes, evidently deciding to let Hermione stew over the words she used in the common room. "Like I've said before, I really wouldn't worry too much about Severus, Hermione. He's not the wizard that you should be focusing on right now." He waited in silence until Hermione peeked at him through her fingers. "Ignoring the seventh year wizards for the time being, what have you noticed about the blokes in your year? Severus Snape, Waldon Macnair, Rupert Wilkes, Augustus Avery and Amycus Carrow."
Hermione frowned as she dropped her hands to the table and sighed heavily. "They're all Death Eaters."
"Not in your time, Hermione," Regulus chided, giving her a shake of his head. "What do you notice about them now, since you've been here at Hogwarts? What's their dynamic like? Their personalities?"
Hermione munched on a ginger nut biscuit as she thought of Regulus' questions. She went over all she had observed during the last month or so that they'd been at Hogwarts. "Carrow is a creep. He's not someone I'd want to be alone with for even a short amount of time." She paused to wash down her food with a sip of her hot chocolate. "I mean, I can definitely defend myself better than most people, but I think it would be foolish to write him off. He can harm someone if he really wanted to – witches especially, given his size."
"He's a predator, yeah?" Regulus cleared his throat. "Now, you didn't hear this from me, but rumour has it that Lord Carrow likes to use the Imperius Curse on his own wife from time to time. I've heard others say that that's the only way he can get her to share the same bed as him."
Hermione looked at Regulus with confusion. "You mean…" her brain slowly comprehended what he wasn't saying. "You mean Lord Carrow has imperiused his own wife to get her to sleep with him?" She grimaced in disgust. "To force her to have sex with him?" To allow him to assault her, she couldn't seem to say aloud. It made her feel incredibly nauseous.
Regulus nodded. "It's abhorrent what he's rumoured to have done. But, you have to understand that Amycus will have learned that type of behaviour from his own father – the creepy predator bit, at least."
"I hope I never have to meet Lord Carrow," Hermione muttered as she reached for her mug of hot chocolate and took a sip.
"Mother and father dislike the Carrow family," Regulus assured her quietly. "So, at the very least you won't have to deal with him during our Christmas gathering." He reached for another biscuit. "We should move on to the other wizards."
"Avery and Wilkes are somewhat difficult to get a read on," Hermione admitted quietly. "If you'd've asked me at the start of the term, I would've said that Avery was incredibly arrogant. However, I've noticed since Mulciber was brought in for questioning for the killing of Mary's family, that he's a lot more cautious." She frowned. "I don't think I've heard him say more than a few words in Defence since Gideon called him out during our first lesson."
Regulus hummed thoughtfully. "That's likely due to Dolohov most likely torturing him in the boys' dormitories after he'd questioned you that night." He slurped his drink. "I overheard Waldon telling Amycus that Dolohov knows some powerful curses. Apparently Avery pissed himself because of the excruciating pain he was in due to whatever Dolohov cursed him with."
Hermione shuddered at that knowledge and absentmindedly touched her chest just over her purple scar. Even through her shirt she could feel its faint outline. "Unfortunately, that doesn't surprise me at all about Dolohov."
"What about Wilkes?" Regulus questioned her after they enjoyed their drinks for a moment in silence.
Sighing as she thought of the quiet wizard, Hermione frowned as she reached for another biscuit to munch on. "He's a prefect, along with Cera." She popped the food in her mouth and chewed. "I honestly don't really notice him all that much. He's not one to draw a lot of attention to himself compared to his dorm mates." She pursed her lips. "Which is definitely something to take note of."
"I agree," Regulus conceded quietly. "What have you noticed about Waldon Macnair?"
"That he likes to hear himself talk," Hermione joked with a roll of her eyes. "Most casual observers of the sixth year Slytherin wizards would say that Macnair appears to be the leader of that particular group. But," she shook her head, "I dunno. I think it's all for show."
Regulus smirked at her words. "Very good, Miss Granger." He peered at her over his mug of hot chocolate. "Who would you say is the leader of that particular group?" He slurped his beverage.
Hermione frowned as she considered Regulus' question. "Back in my time, when I was first introduced to the members of Order of the Phoenix, I would always hear Sirius, Remus, and a few others reminiscing about their time at Hogwarts or the First War. They would say something like 'Snape and his friends' or 'Snape and the other Death Eaters'. But, with what I now know of Slytherin and how the hierarchies in our House are formed, I know that there's no way Snape would be the leader of his dorm mates. He's the only Half-blood wizard in the entire group." She pinched the bridge of her nose and sighed. "Ignoring his blood status for a moment, I know that Severus is far too angry to be the leader. And, he's obvious with it as well. There's nothing subtle about it at all."
Regulus hummed in agreement. "Yes. He's very Gryffindorish with his hatred for all things Sirius and James-related, isn't he?"
"You'll be pleased to note that he becomes far more difficult to read," Hermione informed him dryly. She thought of Harry and his dreadful experience with the prickly Potions professor; she thought of Snape's blinding resentment for Sirius. Finally, she remembered how in her third year, Snape had let it slip that Remus was a werewolf to the Slytherins under his tutelage. "Unless it has to do with the group known as the Marauders, of course." She scrunched her nose and narrowed her eyes. "His hatred for all things Marauder-related remains ridiculous."
Regulus chuckled in amusement at her commentary.
Clearing her throat, Hermione thought back to Regulus' question. "My gut is telling me that the leader of the sixth year boys is Rupert Wilkes." She paused. "But if anyone actually asked them, they'd say that their leader was Waldon Macnair."
"I agree with your assessment," Regulus said. "Now, taking what you know of the sixth year wizards and applying it to the seventh years, who would you say their leader is?"
Hermione closed her eyes at his question, finally understanding the reasoning behind Regulus' need to speak with her in private. "Most would say that the leader is Sebastian Mulciber given his constant commentary and advice given to the younger students, and the fact that he's the other seventh year prefect." She opened her eyes and peered wittingly at Regulus. "But it's not, is it?" She swallowed. "Antonin Dolohov is Mulciber and Rowle's leader. He's the one who took Sebastian to get his dark mark. He's likely already been marked himself. Dolohov is the one recruiting Death Eaters here at Hogwarts for You-Know-Who."
Humming, Regulus finished the last of his drink and gave her a pointed look. "On top of that, Mulciber is voicing Dolohov's questions. Questions that he has of you, Hermione. You need to be very careful during the duelling club tomorrow." He stood up from the table and held out his hand to pull Hermione to her feet. "I've a feeling that – along with our Headmaster – Dolohov and Mulciber want to see how well you'll respond to duelling some of our classmates."
...
...
Hermione tried to ignore her feeling of unease as she followed the large group of students into the Great Hall, Friday evening after dinner.
The four House tables had been cleared and replaced with two duelling platforms. The third and fourth year students were being corralled around the platform on the left hand side of the Great Hall, while the older students had begun to group around the platform on the right. Professor Prewett stood before the high table at the front of the hall along with the Headmaster, Professor Flitwick and Professor McGonagall.
"I've a feeling that Prewett and Dumbledore will be watching our platform exceptionally closely, Miss Granger," the heavily accented voice of Antonin Dolohov sounded quietly in her ear.
Hermione flinched, completely caught off guard by the dark wizard's ability to sneak up on her without her noticing.
Although she couldn't see it, she knew Dolohov was smirking at her reaction. "What are your plans for this duelling session?" he asked her with a lilt of amusement in his tone.
Slowing slightly as the group of upper years made their way towards the appropriate platform, Hermione pondered the question. Dolohov obviously wasn't keen on drawing too much attention from the enemies of his Dark Lord. She, however, had made a promise to Bill prior to arriving in the past. She just needed to figure out how to go about protecting Bill's uncles without notice from the meddlesome Headmaster, or Voldemort for that matter.
Having made up her mind, Hermione hummed thoughtfully. "The sixth years have just learned how to disarm non-verbally in Defence," she murmured to him as she watched the Headmaster watching her. "But, I am familiar with the Shield Charm already." She pursed her lips. "Verbally, of course."
"Of course," the Death Eater echoed. "I'll see to it that my associates respond appropriately." He didn't wait for her response before hurrying over to the small group of seventh year Slytherins at the far end of the platform.
Hermione frowned as she came to a stop beside Cera and her other dorm mates.
"Is everything alright?" Cera questioned quietly. She and the other witches were peering at Hermione with concern. They knew how uneasy she felt about Dolohov, it was a feeling shared by almost all of them. The wizard was dangerous, and every Slytherin student knew it.
"Of course," Hermione assured them with a tight smile. "Antonin was only checking to make certain that I was feeling up for a friendly duel."
Both Ella and Tófa gave her a knowing look, while Cera remained concerned with a worried furrow in her brow. Alecto, on the other hand, had focused her attention on the subject of their discussion and was watching Dolohov speaking to the seventh year Slytherins with a hungry look in her eyes.
"And are you ready for a friendly duel with Antonin, little lion?" Sirius murmured in Hermione's ear as he wrapped her in his arms from behind and gently tugged her against his chest.
Once again, Hermione was caught off guard by the quiet approach and she twitched in response.
Grasping Sirius' hands with her own, Hermione knew he could feel the slight tremor in her fingers. Clearing her throat, she gave him a tiny nod of her head. "Of course, Sirius." She quirked her head, twisting around slightly, to get a better look at him. He had bags underneath his eyes, no doubt due to the Full Moon the night before. "I'm honestly more worried about you. Especially if Prewett or Dumbledore decides to pair you up with Severus."
She watched as an arrogant smirk lit up Sirius' face. He raised a brow at her before brushing his lips against her cheek for a chaste kiss.
"As much as I hate to admit it, Snivellus is a clever git. He won't do a bloody thing in front of the Headmaster or any of our professors," Sirius assured her.
Cera, Ella and Tófa all made sounds of disagreement.
Tófa stepped closer to the couple. "You didn't hear this from me, Sirius, but last night Hermione here had to remind Snape of her role as the future Lady of your House," she muttered under her breath. "Mulciber did as well, if you can believe it." She gave Sirius a pointed look before her eyes darted to something over his shoulder and she took a half step back. "So I wouldn't be so arrogant, Heir Black," she sneered loudly.
Before Sirius could respond he was bumped into from behind, causing him and Hermione, due to her position wrapped in his arms, to stumble forwards a few steps.
"Oi!" Sirius barked once he regained his footing. "Watch where you're going, you greasy git!"
Snape came to a halt a few feet away and slowly turned around to face Sirius and Hermione.
Hermione took a step back, her back pressing firmly against Sirius' chest, as Severus took a challenging step towards them.
"Or what?" Severus sneered. His dark eyes burned with hatred as he glowered at the two.
Hermione jutted out her chin, ready to respond, but was interrupted by Sirius. "As unpleasant as it would be, I'd be forced to owl my parents and tell them all about your disdain for me and my betrothed, Snivellus." Sirius cleared his throat. "Honestly mate, you need to back off. Go make yourself a cauldron full of Elixir to Induce Euphoria or get one of your mates to hit you with a bloody Cheering Charm."
Hermione gulped as Severus' scowled deepened.
"Your parents can't protect Granger when she's tucked away in her bed at night," Severus hissed. "And neither can you, Black."
Sirius drew his wand and had it pointed at the wizard before he'd finished speaking.
Hermione felt a sudden chill seep through to her bones at Snape's unveiled threat.
"But I can," Regulus said as he seemingly appeared out of thin air. He stood next to Sirius and Hermione, and peered down his nose with an air of authority at Snape as if he were a piece of scat stuck on the bottom of his shoe. "Honestly Severus, your behaviour is appalling for a Slytherin. A better fit for you would be Gryffindor, I think. You certainly aren't clever enough to be in Ravenclaw."
"Fuck you, Black." Snape was glowering from Regulus' insult.
"He's right, Severus," Cera chimed in. She was standing with the other Slytherin witches with her hands on her hips. "I also stand with Hermione, my dorm mate and friend. Make no mistake about it: you threaten one of us, and you threaten us all."
Surprisingly, it was Alecto who took a step closer to Snape and roughly shoved him away from Hermione. "Now piss off, you manky tosser!" She crossed her arms across her chest and watched as Snape stumbled back from the strength of her shove. "A word of warning – and rest assured, it'll be the only one you get – if you attempt to enter our dormitory, I will personally see to it that it's the last thing you do. Us Carrows know our Dark Magic, Snivellus. I highly suggest that you speak with one of your many superiors to learn what that actually means for someone like you."
Out of the corner of her eye, Hermione noticed Gideon rushing from the high table and towards the group.
"Miss Carrow, I hardly think that threatening a student with Dark Magic to be an appropriate course of action," Gideon chided once he reached the tense group.
Tófa scoffed and raised an unamused brow at the professor's statement. "It is if the student in question threatened to rape one of us, professor."
"I never–"
Gideon held up his hand, instantly silencing Severus who was currently being held back by both Macnair and Wilkes. "Is this true?" He asked Hermione.
Clearing her throat, Hermione gave him a curt nod of her head. "I believe so, professor. Severus warned Sirius, my betrothed, that he wouldn't be able to keep me safe while I was 'tucked away in my bed'." She grasped the arm that Sirius still had wrapped around her midsection and gave it a thankful squeeze. "I took it to mean that he would, at the very least, physically harm me in some way. I'm grateful that my dorm mates and friends were courageous enough to stand up for me upon hearing Severus' threat."
"And I'm grateful that my brother was sorted in the same House as Hermione," Sirius stated before kissing the back of her head. "I know that, along with Hermione's friends, Regulus will take it as his duty to protect my betrothed."
Hermione watched as Gideon pinched the bridge of his scarred nose. "Detention, Mister Snape, for the next week." He sighed tiredly. "I'll notify your Head of House after this club meeting."
"I hardly think that cleaning cauldrons with Slughorn is much of a punishment, sir," Hermione argued quietly. "Severus is exceptional in Potions. If anything, cleaning cauldrons would seem like a reward for his behaviour."
Gideon's lips twitched, obviously fighting to hide his grin at Hermione's argument. "Then with whom do you suggest he spend his detention with, Miss Granger?"
"You," Regulus answered him instead. He had his arms crossed across his chest and seemed to be silently challenging Snape.
Hermione smirked at Severus before focusing her attention on the Auror once again. "Like Regulus just said, Severus should spend his detention with you, of course. I trust that you'll respect due process with his punishment, whatever it may be." She sniffed and cleared her throat before jutting out her chin exactly like Walburga had taught her in order to get the conversation moving along. "Now if you don't mind, I'd like to put this matter behind me and focus on the reason all of us," she gestured vaguely around the Great Hall, "have come here: to learn how to duel."
Gideon gave her a curt nod of his head before turning his back to her and muttering something unintelligible to Severus.
And, maybe a week spent with Gideon would help Severus when she couldn't, Hermione thought to herself as she nibbled on her bottom lip.
Finally, Regulus turned around to face her, giving her an 'I-told-you-so' look that spoke volumes. He gave Sirius a subtle incline of his head before wandering over to his peers gathered a short distance away.
"Are you going to fill me in on what that was all about, little lion?" Sirius murmured in her ear. "Snape seemed to be more angry at you than he was at me. I can't say I expected that to happen."
Sighing, Hermione shook her head. This wasn't something that she really wanted to discuss in the Great Hall with numerous students around that could easily listen in. "It's a Slytherin matter that's been dealt with already, Sirius." She gave him a tight smile that didn't reach her eyes.
"If Sev's taken to threatening you, Hermione, you really should say something," Lily argued from the other side of the duelling platform as she cast a worried glance in Snape's direction. "I'm sure Dumbledore will put a stop to it." The other Gryffindor witches surrounding her all nodded in agreement.
Hermione exhaled deeply through her nose, annoyed at the recommendation. "As I've just said: it is a Slytherin matter that has already been dealt with."
Lily opened her mouth to reply but was cut off by Professor Prewett, once again standing at the high table.
"If I could have everyone's attention, please," Gideon said conversationally. His voice carried easily throughout the entire hall with a well-placed Amplifying Charm. "Before we get started, I'd like to go over a few rules for this Duelling Club. The first rule is that all hexes, jinxes and curses used during these sessions must be easily treatable." He made a point of peering at all of the students staring up at him. "The Unforgivable Curses are obviously off-limits. The same can be said for any curse that causes grievous bodily harm. This is a school, not a battlefield. You are here to learn magic, not harm others just for the sake of it." He cleared his throat. "As I am sure you're all aware since the notices were posted in your respective common rooms, your partners will be selected by Headmaster Dumbledore, Professor McGonagall, Professor Flitwick or myself."
"If I get paired with Snape I'm putting him in the ground," Sirius muttered under his breath.
Hermione adamantly shook her head as she tried to pull away. "Don't you dare."
"He threatened to rape you!" Sirius hissed at her, tightening his hold.
"He threatened to harm me," Hermione corrected quietly. "I made a fool of him last night in front of his peers, and he's retaliating against me because of that."
"Still Hermione, Snape's response was completely uncalled for," Ella softly insisted from beside her. "If I get partnered with the git, I'll make him beg for mercy."
Hermione could only shake her head as she returned her attention to the front of the Great Hall.
"Containment barriers will be placed along the sides of the platforms to protect those watching from stray spells," Gideon informed everyone. "Now, without further ado, let's get started." Both he and Dumbledore stepped off of the teacher's platform and made their way over to where the older students were gathered around.
Out of the corner of her eye, Hermione spotted Professors McGonagall and Flitwick advancing towards the other duelling stage on the opposite side of the Great Hall.
"Might I choose our first pairing, my dear boy?" Dumbledore questioned Gideon with a twinkle in his eye as they strolled towards the centre of the platform. The Headmaster's hands were clasped together in a non-threatening manner, mostly hidden underneath the multitude of layers of his garish wizarding robes. Tonight they were a bright orange and pastel blue combination.
Hermione pressed her lips together to prevent her smirk upon noticing Professor Prewett's less-than-pleased expression at the question. The Defence professor gestured to Dumbledore, silently acquiescing his request.
"Wonderful, wonderful." Dumbledore made a point of peering at all of the students, as if he couldn't decide just who he should pick to open the first duelling club meeting. "Ah," he said with a smile as his twinkling blue eyes landed on Hermione and Sirius standing next to one another. "If it's not too much trouble, I'd like to appoint Hermione Granger, of Slytherin House, to open the first meeting of this duelling club," he said to the gathered crowd. His smile grew larger as he brushed a hand down the length of his long, white beard. "Given Miss Granger's apparent skill level, I think it best if she were to be partnered with an older student. Perhaps Mister Antonin Dolohov would suffice. Also of Slytherin House."
Well, if that wasn't a raging hippogriff charging through a jewellery shop, she didn't know what was. Hermione gave Dumbledore a strained smile and a slight incline of her head. "Of course, Headmaster. It's not like I've got much of a choice now, have I?"
Dumbledore merely chuckled before he made his way off of the duelling stage and practically glided back towards the high table.
Just as she was about to take a step towards the platform, Sirius grabbed her hand, halting her movement. "There's an old Pure-blood custom–"
"It's already done, Sirius," Hermione interrupted, warning the wizard away from drawing any more unwanted attention. She tugged her hand out of his grip to place it on his shoulder for balance, and stood up on her tiptoes to plant a chaste kiss on his left cheek. "I'll be fine," she murmured in his ear, hoping that he didn't notice the tremble in her fingers.
Squaring her shoulders, Hermione made her way up the wooden steps to the platform's surface. She took a deep breath in as she walked towards Gideon, who was waiting at the centre of the stage, and forced the corners of her mouth to curl upwards in a pathetic attempt at a smile.
"You'll be fine, Miss Granger. I've been informed by a number of your professors that Dolohov has had to retake his entire O.W.L. year," Gideon assured her quietly as Antonin began his slow stroll from the front of the Great Hall towards the steps leading up to the platform.
Hermione reached up to scratch her nose, effectively hiding her mouth from view from the crowd. "You really have no idea how truly dangerous he is, do you?" she muttered lowly to Gideon, meeting his gaze dead on. "That naivety will get you and your brother killed one day." She dropped her hand from her face and raised a brow at his shocked expression. "I do hope you realise that, Professor."
Before Gideon could question her further, Antonin Dolohov joined the two of them on the platform.
"Miss Granger," the dark wizard greeted her with a curious tilt of his head before giving Gideon a chilly smirk. "Auror Prewett."
Gideon cleared his throat. "Mister Dolohov, Miss Granger." His Adam's apple bobbed as he swallowed thickly. "If the two of you could face one another and draw your wands. Wizarding tradition calls on the participants of a friendly duel to respectfully bow to their opponent before retreating to their designated spots at opposite ends of the platform."
Hermione turned to face her opponent directly, and unclipped her vine wood wand from the holster on her forearm.
Dolohov raised a brow in obvious intrigue as he unclipped his blackthorn wood wand from his own holster. "I must admit, Miss Granger, that I have a sudden urge to learn all that I can about you," he quietly confessed to her as he dropped his head into a bow.
Following his lead, Hermione bowed her own head in a show of reluctant respect. "I do desire we may be better strangers, Mister Dolohov." It was a blunt statement – and a Shakespearean one at that – but it was the only response that she could think of after his confession.
Regulus' warning to her the night before was screaming through her head. The last thing she needed was to be wanted by the dark wizard standing in front of her. Along with Voldemort, Dolohov had been the one to mould her Harry into the ruthless monster he'd become.
At this time, the majority of Wizarding Britain believed that Lord Voldemort was the greatest threat to the magical world, but Hermione knew better. The most detrimental threat came from the only wizard known to keep his sanity after being locked up with the soul-sucking guards of Azkaban Prison for fifteen years.
Hermione straightened from her bow and took note of the sudden coolness that seemed to leech out of Antonin Dolohov. Although his eyes were shining with amusement and the expression on his face was calm, Hermione knew that her words had greatly offended him.
"Mister Dolohov," she repeated with a tilt of her head before turning her back to the dark wizard and retreating towards her spot at the end of the platform nearest the entrance to the Great Hall.
Exhaling deeply as she worked to visualise the battle, Hermione reached the end of the platform and slowly turned to await further instructions.
"Wands at the ready!" Gideon ordered once Dolohov reached his designated spot.
Hermione held her wand aloft and focused on her target, shutting the noise of the audience out entirely.
"On the count of three." Gideon unclipped his own wand and held it down at his side, against his thigh. "Three." He peered down the length of the platform at Hermione. "Two." He turned his attention to Dolohov. "One!"
"Protego!" Hermione yelled out, twirling her wand just so to cast a Shield Charm only seconds before Dolohov's silent stunner blasted against her protection in an explosion of red sparks.
Without missing a beat, Hermione sent off a silent Disarming Spell towards her opponent, followed by a hissed "Tarantallegra," and "Furnunculus," in rapid succession.
Unsurprisingly, Dolohov was able to deflect it all without much of a struggle. He retaliated with a silent Knockback Jinx, if the light blue colour was anything to go by, followed by a muttered "Incendio."
Hermione hid behind another Shield Charm as the orange flames flickered threateningly against her protection. While the defensive charm easily prevented the flames from reaching her clothing and flesh, it did nothing to stop the scorching heat.
She felt a bead of sweat trickle down her forehead and drip into her left eye before Dolohov cancelled his charm.
Hermione stumbled to the side and out from the protection of her Shield Charm at the sudden cancellation and was hit on her hip with a strong Stinging Hex. She cried out and clutched at her side with one hand before dropping her protection completely and pointing her wand at Dolohov, yelling "Densaugeo!"
"Zadushit'!"
Something white and ice-cold hit Hermione square in the chest, causing her to instinctively gasp for breath. Panic began to set in the moment she realised that she couldn't breathe.
Trying to remain calm, she turned her wand on herself and wordlessly cast Finite Incantatem, only to feel her lungs and throat compress in response.
Hermione's vision was already beginning to blur as she collapsed onto her knees on the platform.
She was vaguely aware of someone calling out her name as rushed footsteps drew nearer.
Gideon was the first to reach her. He had his wand drawn and pointed at her chest before Hermione could hold up a hand to stop him. "Finite Incantatem!" the professor roared.
Hermione's lungs and throat compressed even more.
Tears were now streaming down her face as she released her wand from her tight grip – letting it clatter to the platform surface – and began to pull at her Slytherin robes and blouse in a desperate attempt to get air into her lungs.
"What the fuck did you hit her with?" Gideon demanded once he realised that she was still in trouble.
"It should have worked," Antonin insisted stubbornly. "The counter-spell has always worked."
Hermione adamantly shook her head.
"What did you hit her with?"
"Zadushit'." Antonin paused. "It means to strangle or choke off. It was taught in my fourth year Defence."
A clammy hand grasped her own. Hermione sluggishly focused on the sensation and followed the hand up to peer at the concerned face of Sirius, who was now kneeling next to her.
"Certain curses are known to react differently if the recipient has been previously hit with Dark Magic. Especially if the older dark curse hasn't been fully healed," Gideon stated. Seeming to recite something that he had read somewhere. He cupped Hermione's face in both of his hands and forced her to look at him. "Have you been hit with a dark curse before today, Miss Granger?" His voice sounded calm. Like he was trying not to cause her to panic any further.
Hermione nodded as her vision began to darken from her prolonged lack of oxygen.
"Do you know what it was?" he asked her. "The incantation? Can you spell it out for us?"
Once again Hermione shook her head. Her eyes drifted over to Sirius, silently pleading with him to answer Gideon as best as he could. She pointed a finger to her chest.
"Hermione told me it was cast silently," Sirius anxiously supplied, instantly catching on.
"When?"
"Uh… about a year ago." Sirius tightly squeezed her hand. "Correct?"
Hermione blinked slowly, dropping her chin to her chest in a failed attempt of a nod.
"What did it look like?" Antonin asked her. "The curse?"
Hermione's gaze drifted over to the dark wizard. "Purple…" she mouthed to him.
The last thing she saw was the bewildered expression on Antonin's face before the darkness encroaching on her vision enveloped her completely.
...
...
The first sensation Hermione became aware of was the throbbing ache in her chest and throat. The second was the fact that she seemed to be breathing. She also appeared to be lying on a table of some sort if the unrelenting firmness pressing against her spine and the back of her head was any indication.
The familiar taste of countless healing potions mixed in with the metallic tang of rapid spell work had settled on the tip of her tongue.
Was she in the Hospital Wing? Perhaps she was still in the Great Hall?
Hermione's right arm twitched as she tried to force her eyes open to see where she was.
"Miss Granger, you mustn't move," Dumbledore's distinctive voice sounded from somewhere on her right. He was obviously tense. "You are still being healed. You must relax. I promise that you are safe."
The curved rim of a glass vial met her lips. "A bit of Dreamless Sleep, dear," a woman – Madam Pomfrey – said to her before tipping the potion into her mouth.
Darkness.
...
...
"Is she going to be alright?"
She was somewhere softer now. Somewhere warmer.
"Yeah." Hermione's left hand was gently squeezed. "Dumbledore and Pomfrey said she'll be right as rain before long. She just has a slew of potions in her belly; it'll take some time before they all wear off."
Sirius.
His voice sounded hoarse to Hermione's ears. Like he'd been crying.
"I didn't realise–"
"It's not your fault," Sirius cut him off. "You weren't the one to partner Hermione with Dolohov, sir. You weren't the one to hit her with that curse either."
"She told me…" A pause. "She told me that my ignorance about Dolohov would result in mine and my brother's demise." There was the faint sound of rustling. "Do you know what she meant by that?"
Sirius snorted as he squeezed Hermione's hand once again. "You wouldn't believe me even if I told you, sir." His thumb brushed over the back of her hand. "And I can't actually tell you."
"Why not?"
A heavy sigh, that was followed by more rustling. "House of Black business." Sirius sniffed. "My parents would kill me if I said anything."
Hermione's fingers twitched against Sirius' hand as she attempted to give him an encouraging squeeze. The more people who had a clearer idea of what they soon would be up against, the better. She'd made a promise to Bill, and it was one that she was desperate to keep.
Sirius responded to the twitch of her fingers with another gentle squeeze. "But, I've come to realise that Hermione tends to know what she's talking about. If she's told you that you and your brother's lives are at risk, then I'd listen to what she has to say."
There was silence for a few minutes, which was eventually broken by Gideon. "Your parents certainly got here quickly." He cleared his throat. "I think they were already waiting in the Headmaster's office before he'd even finished stabilising Hermione."
Sirius chuckled darkly. "People always forget about the second heir. Dumbledore included."
Once again, darkness completely engulfed Hermione.