Potions was taught by a very stern-faced man called Professor Shepherd. He seemed to be about the same age as the headmaster, about fifty years old or more. He was strict and, although not as terrifying or as mean as Snape, quite intimidating. There was utter silence in the classroom as everyone worked. Arithmancy was taught by Professor How and Herbology, out in the Greenhouses, by Professor Yolk. Both were kind and patient, but Professor How was a bit mad in the head. He seemed delighted to have a fifth person in his class.
Phoebe returned home for the Easter holidays, but Will stayed. And over the next few weeks, even without seeing Phoebe, or vice versa, all three got to know one another better. Phoebe and Will were not very close before, but since they were both friends of Hermione, they made an effort to get along. Phoebe's owls were written in very elegant and flourishing calligraphy, and Hermione very nearly went to frame it in the nearby town. Will needed help translating his.
Hermione grew accustomed to the new school, and soon, she was happily living amongst people who did not care whether she was a friend or an enemy of Harry Potter, as long as she had a nice character (and lent people notes from Charms). Sixth-year and seventh-year students were allowed to go out any time during the holidays, within curfew and with permission, to the nearby Wizarding town called Phinxmere. There were very few things there to see, but Hermione was satisfied to stroll through the rather large bookstore for a few hours. They went in fairly large groups and in a mixture of houses. Nobody cared what house you belonged in, until it came to the Coral Cup, which was named after the first Head Boy at Phinxgild, where apparently, people became very fierce and competitive. They were allowed to wear home-clothes on weekends, but, even during the holidays, they had to wear school robes.
"What is the point of buying uniform if you don't use it for a quarter of the year! No, no, money must not be wasted." The headmaster had said benevolently.
The holidays passed joyfully. Hermione received an owl from her parents, saying that they were still at the conference in America. Although Hermione missed them, she was glad they were out of harm's way, at least, for now.
The Summer term came, and Hermione had to catch up with a mountain of work that she had missed for the first half of the year. At Hogwarts, they covered a different part of the curriculum first, so Hermione had to spend every waking moment working, working, working.
"Why are you doing this, Hermione? You are allowed to skip these exams! So lucky!" Will groaned.
Hermione chucked a pillow at him, and it hit him square in the face and he fell of his chair. Phoebe giggled, but feigned innocence when Will glared at her. Hermione was sniggering non-stop under her breath.
Soon, the exams were over. Hermione managed to get very high marks, but not as high as she would have done if she had continued at Hogwarts or came a little earlier in the academic year. She was slightly disappointed, but this only merited a very obvious eye-rolling from Will.
A few days before the end of term, the news came. On the front page of the Daily Prophet was a large photograph of a smouldering ruin with the Dark Mark hovering above it.
At 3 o'clock this morning, an army of a hundred Death Eaters descended upon this School of Wizardry, killing and injuring many and capturing no less than thirty girls. None of the staff survived, but they had put up a good fight. The Aurors arrived to see the headmaster of Schola Magia, the last of the members of staff, fall. A few Death Eaters have been captured and are awaiting trial.
See more on page 5.
A miserable atmosphere hung over the school. Everyone peered out of windows every time they passed one, half expecting an attack. There were only three institutions of Magic in England. The most famous being Hogwarts, and then Phinxgild, and, the least well-known, was Schola Magia. Even the teachers seemed to be on edge.
However, the Summer holidays provided everyone with a relieving escape from the school. Hermione returned home with promises to communicate via owls. However, she did not get a lot of time off, before she was whisked off, by her parents, to Spain for the first half of the holidays and for the second half, she spent peacefully at home. She was beginning to recover from what had happened, and she could think about Hogwarts without feeling the need to cry. However, she still could not bear to talk about Harry or Ron to anyone, or Snape, for that matter.
As promised, all three kept in contact, and grew closer as the bonds of friendship became stronger. When they met again, in school, they were overjoyed.
The school was within a half hour drive, by car, from a train station in a small Muggle town. It was nothing as exciting to travel there as Hogwarts, but it was refreshing to be able to delay saying good bye to one's parents till the very last minute.
The first term was tough. All the teachers were now going at full speed, trying to hammer NEWT syllabuses into everyone's heads. While everyone struggled, Hermione was able to have a breather. She had covered a lot of the stuff during her sixth year, but this did not mean that she sat back and did nothing. She reviewed her Hogwarts notes and added to it, altered it, wrote the essays, practised the spells just as everyone else did.
It was well into November when Hermione received post at the dinner table. Her parents hardly ever sent owls, and she had only just received a letter from them the day before, so the strange letter piqued her interest. Will and Phoebe leant over her shoulder to read the letter as well.
Dear Hermione,
I don't know whether you'll continue reading this or whether you would just burn it straight away, but… I've thought it over (I know it's taken ages), but I've decided that I don't believe that you betrayed us at all. I think Harry thinks the same, but he doesn't want to think that Dumbledore's made another mistake. Harry relies a lot on him. I hope you're alright. People around here treated you really badly before you left, I wish I hadn't been such an idiot to sit around and let it happen. I don't know whether you would ever forgive me, but I'm asking for it now.
I have to keep this short, because if anyone discovers that I'm writing to you… well, let's just say I'd be in a spot of trouble. I'm writing because I've heard things. Dumbledore thinks that there'll be an attack on your school soon, I'm wanted to warn you. You know what adults are like – they never tell anyone anything!
Another thing is… I've been worried about Harry. Harry's been worried as well, even if he won't admit it. Weird things have been happening to him. Somebody's been doing stuff. I mean, just the other day, somebody put belladonna into Harry's potion. We were supposed to be testing them on ourselves. Luckily, Snape had smelt that something was off (with his lovely gigantic nose) and tested it on a mouse first. Died within two seconds. Snape thinks that Harry did it himself and took thirty points, but it could have been anyone! We had to leave our Potions behind, go to lunch, and then go back afterwards to finish it off. It could have even been a first-year!
And then, Harry's been feeling eyes on him in the hallways, so have I, but only when I'm with him. Somebody's continually following us, and the problem is… Harry's map's been stolen! So we can't see who it is. We both wish that we had you around to help us out. It may sound selfish, and I do want you back regardless of whether there's something wrong or not with Harry. But the potion thing isn't the only thing that's been happening to Harry. Somebody put an exploding hex on his pillow, he keeled over in the dining hall just yesterday because someone managed to poison his plate! Something weird's going on.
Don't write back. Can we talk to you at between Midnight and one o'clock on Thursday? Through the fire.
I hope you're doing alright.
Ron
"I don't know about you, but that was quite…" Phoebe started, letting her eyes slide over to study Hermione's expression.
"Hah! Begging for your help! Hermione deserves more than an apology written on paper." Will interrupted.
Hermione was shocked. She felt annoyed that it took them so long to actually rediscover their friendship and trust, but she realised after re-reading the post, that they had never directly accused her, accosted her, or hurt her. They had wanted to trust her, but to trust her meant that they had to face the fact that Dumbledore was wrong again, and with the war on the doorstep, Harry really did not need that.
At once, relief washed over her and Hermione felt overjoyed.
"They want to talk to me again. Oh this is great!"
Phoebe and Will exchanged a very familiar look, both thinking: 'Nutter'.
It seemed as though time was put in extra-slow motion. Never in her life had time passed by so slowly! But, Thursday night came, and, as she had been asked to, she took out some (stolen) floo powder and threw it in the fire, before she stuck her head in and whispered:
"Hogwarts, Gryffindor Common Room."
There was a whirl of colours until she could see into the common room. It was empty save for a few seventh-years here and there. Ron and Harry were playing Wizard's Chess. Hermione pulled out of the fire and waited a while before trying again. This time, there were fewer people, but Hermione pulled out again, and gave them another half an hour, before she made her next attempt. Finally, only Ron and Harry were left. Hermione hissed at them, making them jump six feet into the air, before going towards her.
"Hey. How are you doing?" Harry asked solemnly.
"I'm doing really well. I miss you two loads. It's weird though, I'm in the equivalent of Slytherin over here. Everyone's really nice, they're—ow!"
"Oh, sorry, Hermione! I didn't mean to sit on your hand."
"It's alright, Phoebe." Hermione took a deep breath. "Harry, Ron, this is Phoebe Longscoombe to my right, and this is Will Fortescue. Will, Phoebe, Harry Potter and Ron Weasley."
There was an awkward moment of nodding and finally, Will couldn't contain himself.
"I can't believe you're Harry Potter!" He burst out.
Everyone began to laugh. At least it relieved the tension.
"We're all in Emerald. Anyway, Phoebe, Will, can I speak to my friends now?" Hermione said, hinting that she wanted privacy.
"Sure." Phoebe pulled out.
Then, Will was audibly being dragged away, and Hermione could hear him saying that he wanted to stay behind. Finally, they were alone.
"Sorry about that. How are you guys? I received your l—"
Harry and Ron both held their fingers to their lips and sat with their backs to the fire. The door to the dormitories opened, and, although Hermione could not see, she listened.
"What are you two doing there?" Ginny's voice said.
"We were uh—cold, so we decided to chat over here instead." Ron said
"Oh… what were you talking about?" Ginny asked.
"Um… nothing that you'd want to listen to."
"Is it Order stuff?" Ginny's voice sounded excited.
Hermione frowned, that sounded more than just childish excitement.
"No, we were... talking about—" Ron looked over at Harry for help.
"girls, which ones we like. It's a bit… private." Harry said.
"Oh… well, good night then." Giiny said, obviously disappointed, the door shut.
Harry and Ron waited until the footsteps had faded away before going to make sure. Then, they returned, having found no bugging device, Hermione had to remind Harry, once again, that electrical appliances cannot work in Hogwarts, or any eavesdropping things lying about. They grinned at her, glad that Hermione had not changed too much, but both their faces dropped when they realised why they had summoned Hermione.
"You're in Slytherin!" Ron said in disbelief.
"Emerald, Ronald." Hermione giggled, before continuing with a fake haughty air. "There's a difference."
"Whatever." Ron said, rolling his eyes.
"So, what's up?" Hermione asked.
"We need your help." Harry sighed.
"Well, you didn't seem to want anything to do with me last time. Nor did you help me." Hermione snapped.
"We're sorry. We both really are." Harry said, green eyes glittering with guilt.
Hermione glared at them for a long time, and the tension mounted.
"Please, Hermione... if it makes you feel any better, Harry was the one who brought you up to the Hospital Wing that time... Please? We're really sorry. We're rotten um..." He struggled to think of a non-vulgar word to describe himself and Harry.
Hermione's anger melted (very slowly). After a while she sighed in resignation. How could she continue being mad with those sad, puppy dog eyes that they were both using at her. She scowled at them, knowing that they were doing it on purpose.
"All right. Don't feel guilty over me. Just, next time… help me out." she said.
"We will." Harry said.
"We promise." Ron added.
They grinned at each other. Hermione scowled again. They really were insufferable. That thought reminded her of Snape and shook her head clear, and ploughed on.
"Okay, spill."
"It started at the beginning of this term. I began feeling someone watching me, all the time, and Ron did as well, whenever we were together in the corridors, alone." Harry explained.
"Ginny said she never noticed a thing." Ron interrupted.
"Well, Ginny's been acting really strange. She's been slandering your name, Hermione, and she overdoes it, in my opinion." It was obvious Harry was trying not to hurt Ron's feelings. "not that anyone ever cares. Everyone still says random stuff about you."
"Yeah… She's been really nasty. I mean, you never did anything directly to her, me or Harry, and you've had plenty of opportunities. And now that you're gone, we start having problems." Ron joined in.
"One month after you left, I woke up in the middle of the night, and decided to open the window, because it felt really hot. And I was just returning to bed when my pillow literally exploded. Everyone woke up. Of course, I got Professor McGonagall immediately. She said that I was lucky to be alive. Then, the week after that, on the way to dinner, I had been waiting for the stairs when somebody pushed me from behind, and I fell over the edge. Luckily, Professor Flitwick happened to be nearby and used a charm to float me safely to the ground. It was a horrible feeling though." Harry shuddered.
"And the worst thing was, I knew it was someone under an invisibility cloak, because the only other people there were Neville and Ginny. And so, I immediately wanted to have my map on me, because I thought it was Malfoy doing all this stuff, but I couldn't find it! And you both know I always put it under my pillow at night." Harry was getting quite upset.
"In the first Hogsmeade weekend of this year, I was with Ron and Ginny, and we were just talking. I bent down to tie my shoe, and I heard a twang, and, where my head should have been, was a long metal arrow, and it was stuck in the bark of the pine tree just next to where I was. After that, in the first Quidditch match of the season, the bludgers were, once more, jinxed and they followed me non-stop, trying to knock me off my broom. Dobby wasn't the culprit this time." He sighed. "I was up on the Astronomy Tower one night, and someone tried to push me off the edge, but I grabbed their arm, and that's when I knew that my assassin was a girl."
"A girl?" Hermione asked.
"Yes. Her hand was too delicate to be a boy's and her nails had blood-red nail varnish on. She snatched her arm away and disappeared. You've heard from Ron about the Potions thing and me getting poisoned. I've been saved twice by Professor Snape so far, in less than two weeks! And then, today, that girl, I assume, jinxed some darts and tried to make me a dartboard over lunch! One of these days I really am going to snuff it!" Harry said angrily.
Hermione thought for a moment. Ron and Harry both saw her furrowing her eyebrows and fell silent.
"Harry, when you get back to your dormitory, has your invisibility cloak been moved?" Hermione asked.
"Merlin's Beard!" the colour in Harry's face drained out. "I never checked. Hang on!"
Harry disappeared through the door, returning, a few minutes later, with the cloak.
"It's definitely different. I, for one, never bother folding it so neatly. Do you think that someone's been using my invisibility cloak? Won't that mean—"
"The person is a Gryffindor." Ron finished in a squeak that resembled Madam Viarra's.