Number 95: I am not authorized to negotiate a peace treaty with Voldemort.

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Harry rubbed his scar wearily. "I didn't even know you liked Dean."

Hermione shrugged indifferently. "I neither like nor dislike him." She pondered this. "I'm rather indifferent to him, although I do find him terribly amusing when under the influence of mind altering chemicals."

"And yet you think his ideas are brilliant?"

"No," she shook her head patronizingly. "My daddy thinks his metaphors are brilliant."

Seamus looked up hopefully. "So Dean's not competiton?"

"What?" Hermione looked thourally confused. "Competition? Is he starting a political reform too?"

"Sorry I ever doubted you mate." Seamus slapped Dean companionably on the back.

"No problem," Dean answered in amusement. "Now that we have established I am not violating Rule 2 of The Guy Code, would you mind telling me which metaphor I said that you find particularly interesting?"

Hermione eyed them all suspiciously for a moment before shaking it off. "When you told me to bend it like Beckam and break the goalies nose." The guys blinked. Hermione rolled her eyes. "See, I wrote home and complain…er, discussed the situation with my parents. Daddy says people who apply sports tactics to their ideals are generally successful." She consulted her notes. "People frequently refer to motivational speeches coaches' use, like Herb Brooks when he led the U.S. Olympic Hockey Team to victory. Or," she smirked, "like the New Zealand All Blacks doing their Maori dance before each game to psych out the opposition."

Dean eyed Hermione warily. "So we are all supposed to dress up in Adidas outfits and bust out in a reverential Haka?"

She sighed. "Of course not. We're supposed to go on the offensive. See, we've been pretty quiet since we were summarily ordered back to class. We have a large group of supporters, as well as two teachers on the inside."

Lavender looked skeptical. "Is this a political reform or a bank job?"

Hermione sighed again. "Utilizing our sources," she continued, "I have come to the conclusion that so long as Voldemort presents a threat, Dumbledore will continue to thwart our progress in any way he can, under the guise of protecting us."

Harry glared at his friend. "Look, I'm all for shaking things up, causing a bit of havoc," he gestured vaguely, "Carpe Diam and all that jazz. But why do I have to be the one to initiate a peace treaty with Voldemort?"

"Because I'm a Mudblood," Hermione explained patiently.

"I'm a half blood."

"You've managed to cross him and survive about," she broke off and counted. "As a baby, first year in the forest, getting the stone, memory from a book, graveyard, ministry building. Six times."

"Sheer dumb luck and timing."

"You're destined to be the one to defeat him."

"Prophecies are for the weak and needy. I am above such machinations."

She pouted, widening her eyes and giving him a crestfallen look. "Because you're my best friend and it's breaking my heart not to realize my dream."

He sighed. "Son of a bitch."

Hermione beamed. "Thank you Harry!"

Ginny looked between the two with interest. "Can anybody learn to manipulate him like that?"

"Nope," Hermione answered briskly. "Now, after talking to Mr. Goyle and Mr. Crabbe, I have decided that the best thing to do would be to…"

"Hang on a minute," Parvati interrupted. "Mr. Goyle and Mr. Crabbe?" She shook her head. "Well, at least triads are supposed to be magically stronger than regular unions." Seamus sighed pitifully.

"Triads…." Hermione trailed off, shaking her head in denial. "Never mind, I don't want to know. Yes, Mr. Crabbe and Mr. Goyle. Crabbe and Goyle's parents. They've been helping me in my crusade."

Neville stared at her in shock. "Their parents have been helping you?"

"Of course," she blinked. "How else do you think the press and certain high ranking officials in the ministry just happen to show up around the same time?"

Ron eyed her nervously. "Is this like the whole psychological warfare thing? Purely coincidental?" Hermione smiled rather evilly.

"But how?" Neville asked in surprise.

"Well, see, their fathers wanted them to go home and be marked. But Crabbe and Goyle explained that they couldn't possibly be away from school for the several days needed to recover because they were busy protecting me from Dumbledore while I fought to undermine his authority over the school." Hermione smiled fondly. "They're really quite protective of me, you see. Draco assigned them to watch my back, after all."

"I think they're watching it just a bit too closely," Seamus piped up grimly.

"And so because they were protecting you, their parents allowed them not to be summoned?" Ginny looked around the room, baffled. "Am I the only one shocked by this?"

Hermione shrugged negligently. "The enemy of my enemy is my friend," she parroted. "They've been of invaluable assistance." She shook her parchments threateningly. "Now, to get back on topic, going for the offensive. If we take out Voldemort, then Dumbledore will have no need to protect me by forcing me to drop my protests and return to class."

Harry sighed again. "Maybe I can be the one to shave my head, give away all my worldly goods, and join the small religious cult in Mozambique."

Luna patted his hand sympathetically. "I've always thought you'd look good with a name like Clover or Thistle."

"Can I have your Firebolt?" Ron piped up hopefully.

"Can I have Draco?" Luna asked dreamily.

"No," Harry sighed and rubbed his eyes. "Draco would be coming with me. Just because I would be giving away my possessions, do you think he would too? Do you think he would survive without a fast broom or certain comforts?"

"Oh the many ways I could respond to that," Dean snickered to himself.

Lavender looked mildly disturbed. "Well, if we're going to dress up and do war dances in front of the enemy, can we at least assure that the outfits are flattering both to our coloring and body shape?"

Ginny looked dreamy. "Maybe Draco and Harry could slather themselves in coconut oil and wear loin cloths." She blushed, ducking her head as she came under scrutiny. "Purely to get in the spirit of things."

Dean snickered, turning to Seamus with a cocky grin. "Why do I suddenly feel the urge to cackle and yell out, 'dance cabana boy, dance!'"

Seamus laughed. "Mad TV has truly inspired the masses."

Dennis Creevey entered the common room just then and tossed a sack of coins in front of Harry. He nodded politely at the assembled students, before turning and heading back to the portrait hole. "Where are you going?" Ginny asked.

"To find Katie and Hannah," Dennis replied wearily. He winked at Harry. "See, somehow the staircase our esteemed Defense teacher was walking up mysteriously vanished. A group of Slytherins talking to Professor Sprout just happened to be close by and assisted in taking him to the Hospital Wing." He gestured to the sack of money in front of Harry. "So, since they were talking to a teacher, they naturally knew nothing about the spell encoded to activate upon recognizing the teachers magical signature."

Harry started laughing. "I really do love him," he sighed affectionately.

"Who?" Ron asked.

Neville ignored Ron. "And you're going to find Katie and Hannah because…"

Dennis shrugged. "Technically, it was still a student induced head trauma, even if there are no witnesses to back it up. But on the flipside, Lupin's coming back to finish teaching for the rest of the year." He waved goobye.

"I've always appreciated bloodthirsty and enthusiastic girls," Seamus sighed. He eyed Hermione hopefully. "Especially ones in black leather holding whips."

"Now," Hermione ignored the interruption, "I was thinking a letter of intent would peak Voldemort's interest. You could discuss how fighting together, or him giving up all together, would benefit you both as well as the wizarding culture. Then you could outline where you see the future of the wizarding world headed, as well as how him causing deaths to people he deems inferior are both unnecessary and anti-motivational to the cause." She looked up, pleased with her idea, and paused when she saw the students gaping at her. "What?" she asked defensively.

"You don't care that students attacked a teacher?" Parvati asked slowly.

Harry snorted. "Technically, the first time I attacked a teacher I was eleven. Then I did it again when I was twelve. Again at thirteen. Again at fourteen. And, oh yes, again at fifteen. Hermione helped when she was thirteen and fifteen." He shrugged. "By now she's pretty much jaded to the inevitability of a teacher suffering at least once a year."

"I see." Parvati blinked. "Maybe I could join you in Mozambique. I hear they have pretty beaches there."

Luna hummed. "You could change your name to Butterfly and practice your wind dancing." She paused, frowning, as she thought about it. "Although you may want to forego the coconut oil. When you're wind dancing it might cause sand to stick in unwanted places."

Hermione sighed, smacking Harry upside the head with her parchments. "Hello? Peace treaty?"

"What are you going to do once you get Voldemort's attention?" Neville asked cautiously.

"Well, I was thinking that if he refuses Harry could vanquish him or at least hurt him. If he agrees, it's a win win situation for everyone. And if he lies, well" she shrugged pragmatically, "Harry could just double cross him and once again flee for his life." She smiled apologetically at Harry. "No offense, honey."

"None taken."

"Ok," Dean stood up and held out his hand to Lavender. "We'll go to the library and look up ways Harry's could phrase his request without making Voldmort want to hunt him down and kill him more than he already wants to. Ready Bonnie?"

Lavender grinned, accepting Dean's hand and letting him pull her to her feet. "You got it, Clyde."

Ron perked up hopefully. "I can go find Blaise and see if he has any suggestions?"

Ginny pulled Ron back down into his chair. "Blaise's family has a history of neutrality. What could he possibly do to help?" Ron crossed his arms and sulked.

"And I'll go find Draco," Harry announced happily, "since his family is decidedly not neutral and he can help me."

Luna nodded wisely. "Just don't meet in his room again. The chi is not balanced there, and I don't think the environment is conducive for serious conversations."

"I know," Harry winked.

Hermione watched him walk away and sighed. "Why do I get the feeling they won't be discussing my plan."

Seamus gave her a hopeful look. "I can help you go practice cracking the whip," he offered. Hermione gave him a dubious look, but allowed him to steer her towards his room. "After all," he continued happily, "it's always best to have a Plan B."