A/N: What was in the teaser has changed a little bit, but should still be mostly recognizeable. And there's more!

Next month: more Tracey-driven shenanigans. I *think* this arc will only take three months, but we'll see.

In the longer term, I'd like to have some idea what EY's Quirrel plan was before everything went pear-shaped in this fic. However, given how close to the chest he seems to be keeping that, and the long periods of time between updates, I may not have that luxury. We'll see what happens - it may be that I'll just have to assume my crazy theories about where he's going are true. (That might just be more fun anyway, but I would like to keep this to a single point of divergence if at all possible).

Hermione Granger stood before the door to the first year Slytherin common room. She was too scared to knock on the door.

There was a voice in her head saying This is Hermione Granger standing before the Slytherin common room. She is too scared to knock on the door.

There was another voice in her head saying There is a voice in her head saying "This is Hermione Granger standing before the Slythering common room. She is too scared to knock on the door."

There was yet another voice in her head that sounded remarkably like Harry saying something about depth of recursion.

There was still another voice in her head trying out dirty names to call Harry for having introduced her to the concept. A good girl shouldn't have to listen to so many inane voices in her head. She supposed she should be thankful that the worst names she came up with sounded far too comical and cartoonish to actually be considered dirty; she was sure she'd heard something truly foul before, somewhere, but apparently her brain couldn't even think it.

A fifth voice, the only one she felt comfortable assigning to herself in her internal pentalogue, wondered idly if this was what it was like in Harry's head all the time. Or did Harry's brain manage to sound like multiple complicated books in surround sound? She would have to ask him if they were ever on speaking terms again.

She still hadn't even worked her brain up to the task of convincing herself to actually knock on the door, like she'd set out from Ravenclaw to do, when the door opened in front of her. Conversation spilled out around Tracey Davis, whose purposeful expression was replaced by shock.

"Hermione? What are you doing here?" The sounds of conversation from the room stopped. Tracey's eyes went wide. "What are you doing here?"

"I was... um... I wanted to... eheheheh."

Tracey closed the door hard behind her. "Do you know what they'll do if they caught you here?" she indicated behind her with her head. "You need to not be here. Now."

"S-secret stairs."

Hermione didn't move, her mind still catching up with just how stupid her plan was, in retrospect. No, not just in retrospect. She should have thought this through more. Tracey spun around, wand in hand, and bit off "Colloportus" at the door before grabbing Hermione by the arm.

"Move. Now."

Hermione stumbled after Tracey as the Slytherin girl pulled her towards the stairs. The sound of the door rattling behind her finally got her brain to engage her feet. The girls fled.

At the top of the stairs, panting with exhaustion, the girls stumbled to a halt.

"Wha..hea...teyeh...dih...hea...yewe...hing...kyeh...hue...ouer...hoo...heng...?"

"I...I...hsss...hssta...hop." Hermione held up her left hand as she caught her breath.

Their breathing slowly returned to normal. Hermione relaxed her right hand where it rested on her wand; any pursuit had apparently been short-lived, in worse shape than they were, or male and unable to follow. Hermione regarded Tracey. They hadn't been especially close, but Tracey had been in SPHEW. She might have expected aid from Daphne, but Tracey... maybe she'd made a bigger impression than she'd thought. Or maybe Tracey had her own motivations that would sweep Hermione up in some crazy plot that wouldn't even make sense with a flowchart, three colors of highlighter, and a centaur seer. Was that the sound of ominous music playing...

"Was there some clever plan that involved getting beat up by Slytherins? Ooh! Were Harry's dark powers going to manifest to protect you, proving his undying love for you?"

"I thought... I..."

"Oh just spit it out. I already know it had to be stupid, or romantic, or both! Its not like anything you say could be more embarrassing than what the rumor mill is going to come up with."

"Where do you even come up with that stuff!"

"I'd risk getting beat up by several dozen students for that! To channel my dark lord's powers again... But seriously, why were you there?"

"I thought I should apologize to Draco."

"You... you... you..."

Hermione watched in dawning horror as Tracey's eyes went from confusion to a moment of eureka and her mouth spread in a wide maniacal smile.

"You tried to kill Draco because you're secretly in love with him but couldn't have him because you're a muggleborn and Draco is a pureblood, but now... ah... now its been discovered that you really had wizard parents and maybe he'll forgive all and recognize the advantages in making you the next Lady Malfoy!"

"What? But that doesn't even..."

"No, wait. You're soul-bound to Harry, of course – can you be soul-bound against your will? – but Harry traded you to the Malfoys to save your life! And since you were in love with Draco anyway, ever since he caught you on the roof..."

"Harry and I are not soul-bound, whatever that even means! I don't even think that's a real thing!"

"But otherwise?"

"What? No!"

"If you and Harry aren't seeing each other anymore, can I have him? You don't have to take Draco. I mean, I was plotting to marry both of them..."

"ggihakjgh."

Tracey grabbed her wrists with an eager expression on her face. "Please tell me that was yes in Swahili or Goblin or some other language."

Hermione sat down abruptly, pulling Tracey down with her. She couldn't think, overwhelmed.

Tracey crouched in front of her, dropping her wrists and putting her hands on her shoulders. "Hermione, are you okay? You don't have to decide all at once. But if you were also plotting to marry both of them, well, it'll be easier if we agree to divide them up and not waste our efforts fighting over them." The Slytherin witch let go of her shoulders and rocked back on her heels. "Unless you want to come to one of those... you know... arrangements. Does that work with four people?"

Hermione was deliberately trying to tune Tracey out, in part to stop the onslaught of insanity, and in part because a voice she identified as Harry was reminding her that it was better to neither confirm nor deny wild speculation. That seemed like remarkably good advice, given she couldn't actually tell Tracey what happened.

"Tracey! You know I can't talk about what happened, so I can neither confirm nor deny that... uhh... Harry traded me to the Malfoys so they'd spare my life." That was remarkably hard to say. How did Harry say stuff like that with a straight face? "And how likely do you think you'll randomly guess the right thing by wildly speculating?"

"So... you aren't relinquishing your claim on Harry?" Tracey's face fell a little. "What about one of those... you know..."

"Gaaaaak."

"Well, think about it?"

"Oh Merlin I hope not!" A voice in her head followed up with, see, you can curse!

Tracey pulled herself into a sitting position next to Hermione, hands on her knees in front of her. "You know, as long as we're talking, I could use some help with something..."

"So long as it doesn't have anything to do with Harry... or Draco... or one of... ick."

"No, not at all. Well, I'm pretty sure not... No, Daphne seems way too normal for that... or is it the normal ones you have to watch out for..." Tracey stared off into space in thought.

"Wait, what about Daphne?"

"Oh, she's so sad now after her mother... you know... the 'dementor disaster'".

It had been awful just sitting there watching when she hadn't known any of the victims, but some of them would have children. Children her age. Greengrass was a Most Ancient and Noble House, of course her mother was there. Her mother who had just happened to vote to send Hermione to Azkaban. Hermione felt sick.

"So, I was thinking, I should figure out a way to cheer her up... You don't look so good."

"I... I... I can't talk about it." Hermione was near tears.

"S-Sorry I brought it up. I forgot, you were actually there. Was it awful?" The other girl's eyes were wide.

"Awful..." Hermione muttered. Tracey had no idea.

"Well, at least you had Harry to protect you. But Daphne isn't eating or going to classes or anything, so I thought I should do something."

Hermione shook her head. Protect her? No. Remembering the events that ended the Wizengamot session was not productive. "How could we help cheer up Daphne?"

"She's really sad, so I thought it would have to be something really special. And when I'm upset or sad, thinking about boys makes me happy. Or plotting. Or plotting that involves getting boys." Tracey put her hands behind her and leaned back on her arms. "And I'd think actually having a boy there would be even better. And its not like we can make her plot, but we might be able to convince a boy..."

Hermione's face turned red. "What exactly are you thinking about?"

"Well, when I'm thinking about boys, it's usually Harry, and I channel his dread powers, and then he..." Tracey gestured with her near hand.

"No, really, I don't need... Forget I asked."

"Sorry, I know Harry is yours, and it's not always Harry. Sometimes it's Draco. Or..."

"Tracey!"

"What, it's not like I've imagined you and he and myself having one of those..."

"...please stop..."

"... maybe I should. What do people do with three people anyway?" Tracey's near hand went to her chin. "I mean, it would be kind of hard to kiss two people at the same time, wouldn't it? And where do they put all the hands?"

"Would you at least have the courtesy to blush when you say stuff like that?" Hermione almost yelled. Finding someone to Obliviate this entire conversation was starting to look particularly appealing. She didn't want to be thinking about this. Good girls did not think about this.

"You should hear the stuff I overhear some of the older Slytherin girls saying in the bathroom. I'm not even sure its all anatomically possible."

Hermione's right hand came up, index finger crooked, as if uncertain what it should point at. She started to open her mouth and then shut it. Her brain wouldn't even form the question.

"And then there's the group of older girls who write stories about other students... and professors... and other... things... I mean, Hogwarts/Giant Squid, who comes up with this stuff?"

Hermione put her head in her hands. "Why me?" she asked softly.

"So anyway, all we have to do is figure out a nice boy whom Daphne likes. Then we need to manipulate that boy into going to Daphne, but that shouldn't be hard. I mean, she's noble and pretty. Any boy should want to be her boyfriend, right? There's just some boy code about appearing weak in front of other boys."

"Your plan is to find a nice boy..." At least this seemed like a safer conversation thread than... whatever it was Tracey liked to think about.

"...that Daphne likes!"

"...and get him to give her a shoulder to cry on?"

"Well, and hopefully kiss..."

"...and this will make Daphne happy?" Did Harry make her happy? Sometimes. But also angry. And frequently confused. Boys didn't seem like the answer to everything. And the kissing thing... that hadn't worked out so well.

"...unless what she actually wants is a wizard who will use her to channel his dark powers? But there's already you and me – how many other girls could there be in our class who want that?"

Hermione's mouth opened, but she was again speechless.

"What do you and Harry go off and do by yourselves anyway?"

She shook her head to clear it. "What? Read. Or talk. Or science. Why?" She mentally kicked herself immediately after speaking. She was starting to see the value in Harry's policy of denying everything.

"Science?"

"We... experiment?"

"Ooh, I think I've heard some of the older Slytherin girls talking about 'experimenting'. Do tell!" The Slytherin girl rotated her torso to face her, leaning in conspiratorially.

"With magic," she said quickly, thinking that would explain everything.

"Well duh, where do you think they get the tentacles from?" Tracey asked, her arms thrown wide.

"What? ... buh... … Ack!" Hermione fell backwards, suddenly glad she was sitting on the floor. Still the floor was awful hard when she cracked her head on it. "Ow."

Tracey leaned over her. "Are you okay? Was it something I said?"

"Is there anything else you'd like to mention about Mister Potter?"

McGonagall arched her eyebrows at the flame in the fireplace of the Headmaster's Office. "I'm quite sure that's enough to cause plenty of trouble."

"Shall we review and make sure nothing has been left off? Original discovery in transmutation. Realized the fundamental principle of potionry." The sound of a pen making a mark after each item carried through the flames as Amelia Bones read off the list she had made. "Owns an invisibility cloak."

"You'd have to ask Albus for more information about that."

"... if I can find him. A new charm which 'blinds dementors' … and apparently destroys them if my eyes are to be believed."

"Albus did not care to share that particular effect of the charm with me, if he even knew."

"Muggle-raised with a keen interest in muggle artifacts. Has a time turner. Is an occlumens."

"Also Albus's doing."

"And apparently deduced or discovered a secret which lets him command dementors."

Minerva remembered that moment quite clearly. The all-too-calm young boy's voice cast before the storm of the dementor's fury. Dementors are death. She must have visibly reacted, because she lost track of whatever Director Bones was saying until disturbed from her revery by a polite cough from the other side of the flames.

"You look pale as a ghost."

"I would hope what happened would be enough to shake even the strongest of us."

Amelia's eyes cast downward, possibly reading over the list one more time, before looking back at her. "Are you certain Mr. Potter was not involved in freeing Bellatrix Black from Azkaban?"

"His time turner is restricted to evening use, and he managed a full 6 hour shift that night. If he were involved, his time turner was not... and the defense professor would be implicated as well." Now that was a frightening thought.

"They are close?"

"I could not say how close, but Harry did make several weekend trips to Diagon Alley with Professor Quirrel."

"Mister Potter isn't secretly an animagus, is he?"

"Not that I'm aware, and what I know of his activities wouldn't have left much time for the meditation. Nor would I expect Mister Potter to become one without proper instruction, supervision, and registration – but then I hadn't expected what happened at the trial either."

"No matter, we have ways of testing such things."

"If that is all, Amelia, I really do have a lot of things to do today."

"You've been most helpful, Minerva. I hope we can have a more productive working relationship than Dumbledore and I did."

"As do I. Oh, Amelia, would you be so kind as to return our defense professor to us soon? NEWTs are coming up, after all."

"We are concluding our investigation of his actions with respect to Lord Malfoy's heir. Barring some unforeseen complication, I expect he'll be released shortly. I may need to borrow him again in the matter of Bellatrix's escape."

"If at all possible, please wait until after NEWTs. Good day, Amelia."

In the end it was decided, mostly by Tracey, that they needed additional help finding a suitable boy. We clearly don't have normal tastes in boys – we should find someone who does! Which of course meant they had to decide who would have normal taste in boys.

That wasn't totally accurate, actually. Tracey had floated the idea of seeing if Daphne had a journal and using it to find someone she liked. But, in addition to the obvious difficulty of any such journal being near Daphne's bed, which was perpetually occupied by her at the moment – a difficulty that didn't seem to bother Tracey at all – Tracey also insisted that Daphne might be attracted to 'bad boys' who wouldn't be any good for her – apparently that's what most women really wanted, according to Slytherin upperclasswomen gossip – and what Daphne actually needed was a boy who would be good for her. Hermione had just acquiesced at that point. Even trying to think through what passed for Tracey logic had required too many parentheticals to express to actually make sense. Not that her brain hadn't dutifully complied and made the necessary mental circumlocutions, but she wasn't thinking about it. Really.

Which meant now they needed to decide whom to ask. Yes, this was completely sensible and not even a little silly. Not at all. Hermione was most definitely not questioning why any other girl would do better than they were – not that they had really come up with anything, mind you – but just about every other girl Hermione had heard give relationship advice had been crazy. Clearly there was something about boys which just caused girls' brains to switch off. Regardless, given the advice she'd received in the past, trying to find a boy who might actually bring happiness, immediate happiness, to Daphne was a lost cause. 'You just don't understand male psychology. Granger's got to make it look like she can mysteriously resist his seductive charm.' Madness.

"Maybe we should ask Lavender?" Tracey asked. Former SPHEW associates seemed to be the obvious choice.

"Lavender with her hero outfit?"

"Sure, why not?"

"Well, we aren't exactly looking for a hero, and I'm pretty sure that's who she's looking for."

"The brave knight come to rescue Daphne from her depression! 'Here milady, have a shoulder to cry on.'" Tracey threw her voice as low as she could. Hermione couldn't help a small laugh.

"Well, the Slytherin dorms are in a dungeon. A perfect location for a rescue." Hermione observed with a smile. If you were going to do something crazy, might as well get in the spirit of the occasion.

"'My hero!'" Tracey threw her voice higher than usual, and put the back of her hand on her forehead in a mock swoon.

"Really not sure we're going to get any good ideas from Lavender, though."

"We don't have to tell her why we're asking. Just ask about which boys she thinks are nice, and then we can decide whether any of them are worthy of 'our lady' Daphne."

Entertaining failure would at least be entertaining, which was better than what most of her life had been like recently. No time like the present.

Tracey was indefatigable, and they'd gone through much of the Gryffindor common room while they'd been there. Talking about boys was exhausting. And they'd heard so many recommendations that, afterwards, they'd decided they had too much information. And they weren't sure which Gryffindors could be trusted to give good advice on boys.

At least hanging out with Gryffindors hadn't been uncomfortable, well, not in the way that Ravenclaw was currently uncomfortable. Rather than her pariah status in her own house, Hermione felt like she was a celebrity in Gryffindor. Admittedly it made her feel uncomfortable in a different way, but she wasn't thinking about that right now. At all.

"I'll give you this much," Hermione said, as they left the vicinity of the Gryffindor first year dorms, "this is a better plan than your idea to tie Harry up and cart him around to find bullies. At least we'll ultimately choose someone, right?"

"Hey, that would have worked! We should have tried! You'll come to appreciate my strategic brilliance once I prove I'm not the one who's crazy!" The maniacal laughter that followed was not convincing.

Hermione supposed it was inevitable that they'd end up going to Hannah. Hannah was kind and shy and, according to Tracey, almost certain to only like clean-cut 'good boys'. 'Unless of course she's hiding a bad girl streak, but I don't think she has it in her.' Hermione was doubly glad she didn't listen to... whatever it was older Slytherin girls talked about.

Hermione really should have seen this coming.

They'd gotten Hannah out into the hallway, along with Susan Bones who was justifiably curious, because the Hufflepuff common room was simply too uncomfortable for Hermione. Tracey had already asked the question, 'are there any boys you think are nice?', when Hermione remembered the conversation SPHEW had immediately after the protest. 'There's a boy I like.' No, that wasn't the specifically relevant memory, it was Daphne speaking. 'She likes Neville Longbottom, actually.' But what made Hermione uncomfortable was not the knowledge that Neville was almost certainly the boy Hannah was going to name. 'And unfortunately for her, he's going to marry someone else. It's very tragic.' It was obvious, once you thought about it, not that Hermione had been very interested in the topic at the time. She knew who Daphne liked.

"Um, you promise not to tell?"

"Tracey..." Hermione started.

Tracey gave her a look. "Of course we won't tell. We're your friends, right?"

"Well, I think Neville is nice," Hannah said softly.

"Tracey, maybe we should rethink this?"

"No no, Neville's perfect. I mean, he was number four on my list, but I'd give him up for Daphne."

"Um?" Hannah squeaked.

"Wait, what?" said Susan, injecting herself in the conversation. "What exactly are you plotting? What does Daphne have to do with this?"

"I'm going to cheer Daphne up by giving her Neville Longbottom!" Tracey smiled hugely.

"But..." Hannah looked at Hermione with large eyes.

"Tracey, maybe we should reconsider..."

"Oh no, I have the perfect plan." There was a gleam in Tracey's eyes as she rubbed her hands together.

The three other girls looked at each other with various expressions. Hannah's look was closest to horror, Hermione merely uncomfortable, Susan confused but disapproving.

"Tracey, you don't just give people to other people," Susan said sternly.

"I thought we were going to convince whomever to..." Hermione was stopped by an evil laugh from Tracey. That was not a good sign. Wait. "No Tracey! You are not stunning Neville, tying him up, and dragging him down to the Slytherin dungeons!"

"Aw, but that would work for sure this time."

"That's not the solution to everything!"

"You mean there are problems that can't be solved by stunning a boy and tying him up?"