Chapter Five

Hermione stood engaged in a silent stand off between herself and an overly familiary gargoyle. The stone effigy seemed to laugh as she glared into it's carved features before cupping a hand to her mouth, whispering the passphrase in the creature's ear. The hallway was suddenly filled with the low rumbling of stone grinding against stone. The Gryffindor jumped away from the creature as the large stone gargoyle replied in a graveley voice, "Hermione Granger ... the HeadMistress has been waiting for you. Please ... come this way."

Hermione eyed the now fully revealed passage with some apprehension as the statue bowed her closer. Summoning the famous Gryffindor courage, she took a deep breath and hesitantly took a step forward. The staircase began revolving as soon as she'd put just one foot on the first step. Hermione gripped the banister tighter. A nervous flutter of anticipation made her stomach tighten as a wave of nausea washed over her. Hermione grit her teeth and began to steel herself for the inquisition she knew she was going to face, glaring upwards all the while towards the fast approaching door.

"I always thought that it would be Mister Potter," the new Head Mistress of Hogwarts mused quietly to herself as a familiar face framed by bushy brown hair peeked out from around the open door. Minerva McGonagall stood off to one side gazing upwards towards Albus Dumbledore's portrait. He smiled in a knowing fashion down at the slowly approaching girl and added, "You do have a point, Minerva. I had assumed that he would be the first student called to this office since you have assumed my old position."

Hermione flushed. She hadn't even entered the room and already they were talking about her! "I'm not exactly pleased that it's turned out like this, Professor. It's not as though I enjoy causing trouble."

McGonagall raised one thin eyebrow, lips pursed together in a thin frown before they reluctantly curved into a small smile. "Miss Granger, you'd do me a kindness if you erased that scowl from your face. You are right, however. That department is more for your friends than a smart girl like yourself." She walked around the large desk and settled herself into the large magestic chair Dumbledore himself was using in his portrait. The older witch leaned forwards, placing both elbows on the worn surface, fingers laced together in front of once more thinning lips. "And you haven't been called here because of causing any trouble, but rather the trouble you seem to have found yourself in. Please, sit down. This might take some time."

Hermione had faced down terrible enemies. Deadly, dark creatures and humans with nothing but evil on their minds. So why was it so hard to face off a teacher, her closely admired mentor, a woman so formidable she was being hailed as the witch of the century? 'Well, when you put it like that,' Hermione thought glumly as she settled herself uncomfortably in the chair across from McGonagall. The witch suddenly took out her wand, causing the girl to flinch backwards, shrinking instinctively against the chair.

This action caused the older woman to frown deeper as she twirled the wand in several intricate motions. 'Perhaps there is some merit to Poppy's words. The war has left horrible scars on this girl, perhaps even more so than Mister Potter, who seems to be adjusting uncannily well to Hogwart's again.' A whistling teapot suddenly danced from the adjacent room. It was piping hot and filled the room with the fresh floral scent of orange blossoms and the underlying sweetness of honey. A tray of chocolate biscuits soon followed, along with two cups and other various fixings necessary for afternoon tea, deposited neatly besides the quieted tea pot. 'Then again, it's usually those you think are perfectly alright, that are not.'

Reaching forwards, McGonagall began fixing the tea in a decidedly muggle fashion. A fragrant burst of steam issued from the neck of the tea pot as she poured two cups of the deep amber liquid in a graceful motion. The older witch slid the glass across towards her nervously fidgiting student. Her earlier frown had only deepened as Hermione accepted the tea, wrapping both hands around the hot cup, but refused to drink from it. Old habits died hard, after all. Despite having known McGonagall from the time she had apparated in front of her home in England to tell her parents their daughter was actually a witch, Hermione didn't drink anything she didn't pour herself. It wasn't hard to guess which lead McGonagall to sip her cup first. Hermione waited for several long moments before judging it to be safe and taking a drink also.

"As you know Miss Granger we have little to no knowledge of what transpired in that hallway. If Professor Delacour had not found you when she had ... " Minerva's eyes flick upwards to meet Dumbledore's uncharacteristicly grave ones, " ... well, we don't like to ponder on what could have happened. We are only concerned with what needs to happen now. It's certainly not in your best interests or the students of Hogwarts if what attacked you remains on the loose."

"Professor," Hermione paused, taking a deep breath, "I have no memory of what happened. Honestly," she added upon seeing the look of slight disbelief that crossed both of the professors' faces, "I woke up in the corridor looking like ... that." Unconsciously, she brings her arms up, wrapping them tightly around herself. Both Professor Dumbledore and McGonagall share a look as the girl before them continues. "All I could think about was getting as far away from whatever had caused the damage. I didn't realize I was hurt until a little later. When I saw the b-blood, I stumbled into the first room that was open. It's why I was found in Fleu- ... I mean, Professor Delacour's classroom."

McGonagall took a good hard look at Hermione as though gauging whether or not the girl wasn't revealing all she knew. The older witch looked back up towards Dumbledore and things seemed to be as they used to, that he was the Head Master once more and McGonagall the teacher looking to him for wisdom and guidance.

Albus turned towards Hermione and said in a low voice, "Miss Granger. You have done so much for the Wizarding World already. We are all most assuredly in your debt. Yet so soon after Voldemort's defeat there is something here, within Hogwarts, harming students. I think it would not be wrong to assume you are very lucky to have escaped." He paused for effect letting his words settle heavily over the two witches. His eyes had never looked so worn as this, his voice as tired, causing Hermione to sit up straighter as Dumbledore drew in another breath. He seemed to regret the words that echoed momentarily in the air, unable to take them back once released. " ... Hermione. I regret having to ask you this, but I think it is the only way, given the current state of your memories. Minerva?"

Hermione's eyes widened as her head snapped back towards her favorite teacher and mentor, who had stood, looking just as tired as Dumbledore in his portrait frame, wand held loosely at her side. "Miss Granger." Her lips curled up in a reassuring smile that did nothing to quell the nervous spasm Hermione's stomach gave at the sight of that wand raising higher and higher. She clutched white knuckled to the arms on either side of the old wooden chair. "Do not repel me. I am a practiced Legilimens. There is no pain so long as you do not throw up any walls or reject me." Her eyes were pained but self assured. "This is for the greater good of the school. I am sorry, but I do not see any other way. Prepare yourself."

Hermione sucked in a panic laden breath. Before she had time to protest, McGonagall had already raised her wand, whipping it through the air and soundlessly mouthing words. The strange sensation of falling backwards into nothingness hit Hermione, who slumped in the wooden chair, eyes rolling up in the back of her head, trembling uncontrollably. After a few moments, her body went limp, fists relaxing, eyes closing shut, with only the occasional twitch to show Hermione was still even alive.

... Then the memories began.

... Or more honestly, the nightmares.