"Hermione? What happened?"

She was sitting at the bed, her eyes closed. She could barely hear Dean. She couldn't move even if she wanted. But the truth was that she didn't really want to. Now that Jean was dead, nothing really mattered. She didn't want to fight. She refused to be a spectacle for them. Let them kill her now and be done with it.

But something burned inside her, more than the loss of Jane. It wasn't a need for revenge because revenge needed strength, needed clarity. Passion. Hermione didn't have anything of these. All she had was a need to do for once in her life something in her own terms.

The wand was heavy in her hand. She didn't remember pulling out of her pocket but there it was. She put it against her head. And for a perfect moment, everything clicked. And just as suddenly, it passed. Hermione let the wand drop.

"Did you….did you almost do what I think?" Dean was beside her immediately. He caught her shoulders and shook her violently. "Are you crazy?"

"Stop shaking me."

Dean let her quickly. He seemed to not know what to do with his hands and settled to holding her hand. Hermione had to admit that the touch was nice, soothing. For the first time after the meeting with the strange woman, she didn't feel so cold.

"Not my best moment, okay." Dean sounded apologetic. "But still, what the hell happened?"

After casting the silencing spell, Hermione told him. Dean let her hand and start pacing, he opened his mouth but no words came out. After taking a few breaths, he managed to speak again clearly.

"That's great news. Someone is helping you!"

Hermione wanted to slap him. Hard. The warmth she felt earlier had disappeared. Suddenly, she wanted to be everyone but here.

"Jean died." Her voice shook with barely restrained anger. " Sorry for not cheering."

Dean stopped pacing and gaped at her. "How the fuck do you know that? For someone so clever, you can be such an idiot." He caught her shoulders and shook her again, this time a lot gentler. "Did anyone tell you that?"

"I didn't expect a declaration or something. It was obvious." Hermione said but even in her own ears, she didn't sound convinced anymore. Did she really misunderstand the situation so bad? Did she let her own fears get the better of her?

" I tell you; it's the whole gloomy thing you have. Someone gives me an awesome wand? Oh noes, she killed my sister. How did you even come up with that?"

"I don't know." She felt silly. What Dean was saying sounded logical. But she still, she couldn't shake the feeling that something horrible had happened to Jane. "My gut tells me something really bad is going on."

"Your gut is stupid and ungrateful."

Hermione ignored his childish response. Sometimes, Dean could be a little immature. Just in time, the door opened and Slughorn showed up.

"What are you doing here?" he asked pointedly.

"We were just talking," Dean answered quickly. A little too quickly it seemed, because he looked a lot more suspicious. He looked around like he was searching for something. Luckily, he didn't seem to find anything discriminatory. "There was no sound," he said, pointing an accusing finger at Hermione.

She honestly didn't trust herself to not curse him and let Dean answer again: "We were…um whispering?"

Slughorn was ready to speak again when he changed his mind. He seemed like a man who had come to a sudden revelation. He cleared his throat repeatedly and avoided eye contact with her. "Oh. Em..yes. I was young once, too."

Hermione decided to step up since Dean was looking confused. "Yes. Thank you."

"So are we ready yet?" Slughorn changed subject as quick as possible. "Our carriage is waiting."

"Carriage?" Dean asked. He was looking like he was still trying to figure out what happened.

"But of course! How else are we supposed to get to our destination? Follow me. Oh, and Hermione, don't forget your wand.

The wand was still at the floor where had she dropped it. Dean picked it up and gave it to her. She took it silently. It was still heavy but this time she didn't mind it. It wasn't a burden but something entirely different. Hope.

"You have to admit, this is kind of exciting."

Hermione opened her eyes and closed them again immediately. After the days she spent underground, it was hard to adjust to the natural light coming from the windows. Any "real" wizard or witch would swear up and down that there is no difference between real and magically produced light, but she knew better. Judging from the Martha's and Colin's pained expressions; she wasn't the only one who noticed the difference.

Dean seemed unaffected but as Hermione had come to realize these last days, not much could spoil Dean's good mood. He was one of these people who took everything bad in his stride, never losing his smile. Depending on her mood, it was a trait she find it either endearing or very, very annoying.

"I am the only one who is excited?" Dean asked. "Colin? Martha?"

"Leave me alone." Colin hid his face under a green pillow."

"It's … fun."

"Martha, please don't encourage him."

"Finally, I though the evil stepmother stole your voice. Or is it was a mermaid? Something about pumpkins…" Dean said, confusion evident in his face.

Hermione decided to open her eyes and faced him, just to make him shut up. Definitely annoying. "What are you even talking about?"

"See, we are flying by a magical carriage. Except there are no horses. I mean, there are horses, but they are like their ugly brothers . And I know the pumpkins are fitting somewhere there too although I am still working on where exactly…"

"These are thestrals," Hermione decided to grasp at anything that made even a little sense in Dean's story. "Did you understand anything else?"

Colin didn't bother to raise his head. "Please, leave me alone." Martha shook her head.

Dean shrugged. He didn't sound so happy anymore. "It's a story…. I think someone told me. I don't really remember. I don't know but I feel like I should remember it, somehow." He looked out of the window, trying to focus. Determination made his features look sharper. Moments later, he seemed to give up and just stared at the clouds below them. No one talked for a while, every one of them lost in their own thoughts.

Hermione, who just five minutes ago, would give anything for a little piece and quiet, felt uneasy. "I am sorry," she said without knowing why.

"Eh, it's just a stupid story." Dean smiled again and Hermione felt a little better. Even Colin had decided to show his face again. This time the silence was less tense, easier to bear.

"You know, I have to admit, flying is pretty cool."

"And?" Dean asked.

"Yes. Exciting."

Dean clapped his hands, Martha rolled her eyes and Colin threw her the green pillow. "Traitor," he whispered loud enough to hear. Hermione caught it in the air, put it under her head and closed her eyes, determined to find some rest before she had to face the world again. She would deny it later but until sleep overcame her, she was smiling.

The abrupt stop and lack of movement wake Hermione up. The other three roused from their sleep, too. Martha looked around wildly. For the first time since the whole ordeal had started, she looked truly frightened. Even Dean was looking sober. It starts to sink in. Hermione thought.

"Where are we?" Colin asked.

They looked out of the window. The only thing they could make out was what it looked like a gigantic forest. Hermione had never seen something like that; there were trees everywhere she turned her head.

"Do you hear anything?"

Suddenly, Hermione realized since their journey had begun, she hadn't heard any sound from outside the carriage. "They must have used a spell." She looked knowingly at Dean.

"Bastards," Dean said without a hint of his usual humor.

The doors suddenly opened. Hermione felt relieved. She expected something terrible. She was so out of her waters that Slughorn's face was almost a relief.

"Ladies and gentlemen, welcome to Hogwarts."

Even under the circumstances, she couldn't help but feeling a little awe. She had heard about Hogwarts, or more specifically she had read about it. It was a relic of an older time, where magic was something to be kept hidden, to be ashamed. Wizards and Witches speak with revulsion about Hogwarts or didn't speak at all.

But Hermione didn't feel repulsed. She didn't understand why but the castle in front of her didn't scare her. There was something oddly comforting about it. She sensed a power greater than she ever met before.

"I don't understand why they don't tear it down," Slughorn said, mostly to himself. "All right, then, let's get going, we have many things to do."

He walked towards the huge wooden door and knocked. Almost immediately, the door opened and a man, dressed in a black cloak, appeared.

"Severus," Slughorn bowed slightly his head.

The man ignored his greeting. "Finally. He is waiting for you."

Slughorn seemed suddenly extremely nervous. "Am I late?" He pulled out a napkin and swept his brow. "Is he angry?"

"I suggest you to stop wasting time."

Slughron turned and faced Hermione and the others. "Move." Gone was the almost kind man she had known these last days. His voice was cruel and demanding, his expression sneering. She was consumed by fear; even if she wanted, she couldn't move.

She felt a hand at the small of her back. "Come on," Dean said. "Let's do this."

"Yes, let's do this." Martha agreed.

"What are we waiting for?" Colin said.

Severus, as Slughorn had addressed him, looked at them intently. Hermione could swear his stare linger on her a little more than she was comfortable.

Slughorn lead them deep into the castle. Although everything was clean and in order, the place seemed abandoned. She could hear whispers everywhere; she realized there were coming from the portraits.

"Who would die first?"

"The little girl."

"The tall one."

"Ignore them," Dean said, his hand still gently guiding her. Severus was following them closely. She could still feel his eyes.

"Ok. We are here." They had stopped in front of two big double doors. Slughorn took a deep breath, composed himself and opened them.

Hermione, used to the little huts she and the other Mudbloods had grown up, was taken aback by the sheer enormity of the hall. There were four long tables, where the other champions were already seated. It was kind of silly, really, four tables for so few people. But I guess that's the whole point. Separated so everyone knows their place.

She noticed some of them were flocking together. The Squibs were sitting next to each other contrary to Purebloods and their distance between them. She remembered the blond boy from the pureblood ceremony; he was sitting far away from anyone.

The forth table was empty. Slughorn pushed them towards, Hermione reluctantly took her seat between Dean and Martha. He then moved so quickly he almost lost his balance.

"My Lord."

In front of the four tables, there was a throne-like chair where a man was seated. Hermione knew who he was but had never clearly seen him since he preferred to keep himself scarce among Mudbloods. The sight surprised her.

He was a beautiful man. Hermione felt sick to her stomach for even thinking about it but it was true. His jet back hair and dark eyes were a great contrast to his pale skin. The illusion stood until someone actually looked at his eyes and saw they were cold and cruel, devoid of every sign of humanity.

Slughorn fell on his knees and kissed Voldemort's robes. "My Lord." He repeated.

"Enough."

Slughorn stood up but kept his head down. Voldermort studied him. His face didn't betray any sign of emotion. Hermione wondered if he even had the ability.

"You were late."

Slughorn trembled but his voice was steady when he spoke. "I am sorry, my Lord. It's mudbloods' fault. They had kept me."

"Is it?" Voldemort stared at their table.

Hermione's disgust at Slughorn's "betrayal" was quickly replaced by an almost soul crushing fear. She had never felt something like that in her whole life. She was used to sneers and abuse but the hatred she could see in Voldemort's eyes was something she had never experienced. Beside her, she felt Martha's and Dean's hands squeezing hers.

"Is it?" Voldemort repeated. He clearly expected an answer. Hermione looked at Slughorn, his eyes were pleading.

She bowed her head. "Yes, my lord."

"No." Everyone looked astonished. Slughorn was trembling even harder. "See, I don't expect from Mudbloods to be punctual as I don't expect from a cockroach to list the 12 uses of dragon blood. Due to their limited brains, they simply aren't capable of such things. But you, Slughorn I expected better."

"My Lord, please…."

"I am sorry," He didn't sound sorry at all. "Avada Kedavra."

The lifeless body of Slughorn fell on the ground. Everyone hold their breaths.

"Severus, please get rid of this mess." He stood up from his seat and raised his hands.

'Now, everyone. Welcome to Hogwarts."