Chapter 13!

I was asked if Cole would have a role in the Fade - I'm afraid he won't. Considering that Hermione knows how dreadful it will be for him to come with them, it didn't seem logical. He's so afraid in the raw Fade, and I feel for him!

I've written him in the Fade in some of my other fics (which I have not posted here, just so I don't confuse anyone) and I feel so sorry for him every time.

Btw, here comes the explanation about the Unforgivables. Or have I already explained it in this fic? I may or may not be slightly confused! xD

Disclaimer: ain't mine, yo!

-o-

Chapter 13 - Rather Melodramatic, Isn't It?

The battle at Adamant was still a few days away, so they were forced to spend a few days in the Western Approach, something that Hermione didn't really mind at all. She liked the Western Approach. Bit too much sand, perhaps, and a bit too hot, but she transfigured her clothes, and was now wearing - something that looked somewhat like Florianne's rogue armour. It was tight, dark brown - almost black, made of sturdy, but very flexible leather, and wasn't too hot to wear. It was just perfect, even if she felt a bit like Catwoman – only thing missing was the mask and the tail, after all. She had felt slightly uncomfortable with how tight it was at first. It was like it was glued to her body, and she felt almost naked sometimes, because it showed off her curves in a way she wasn't exactly used to. But then, when she had realised how easily she could move, how protective it was, and how it didn't overheat in the daytime, nor get too cold at night, she had decided that it was worth it. She even kind of liked that she looked like a rogue, she had realised. This realisation had given her an idea.

After the accidental-cult-creation, she had realised that her displays of magic could cause more than just one cult, and quite possibly fear as well, something that was not good for the Inquisition.

And she could move like a rogue - she was actually not too bad with a dagger – and her wand could stay in her sleeve, because it still worked, even if she wasn't exactly holding it in her hand.

The idea was to pose as a rogue. She already had several ideas of how she could do a slight adjustment to some charms and spells, mimicking rogue-abilities.

Adding a flare of grey smoke as she disillusioned herself - stealth.

Apparating behind an enemy while disillusioned – Shadow Step.

She had plenty of ideas, and she kept trying new things whenever they faced enemies that was easily defeated. Bandits, for example. She was more careful with the Red Templars, however, and the demons.

-o-

"I swear I will never wear anything else in my entire life," Hermione said happily, and did something close to a pirouette in the in the soft sand. "Fighting is so much easier with this."

Dorian raised an amused eyebrow. "Careful, my dear, you're so excited you'll take off and fly away at any point now."

Well, she could already fly. Hermione had worked for years to find a way to use Unforgivables without destroying your soul in the process. She had worked as an auror, and they had to use Unforgivables far too frequently for Hermione's taste.

She had succeeded in the end. The clue was to pour strong emotions into the spell. It didn't need to be rage or hatred; it could be anything, as long as it was a powerful emotion.

Thus, she could fly. She had learned the spell Professor Snape had used. It was much better than brooms. Hermione hated brooms.

She wasn't about to tell Dorian she could fly, however. She hated when they looked at her with that spark of awe in their eyes, and the flying spell would most certainly result in sparkly, awestruck eyes all around. The spell looked bloody cool after all, even without the dramatic flare of billowing, black robes - courtesy of Professor Snape.

Hermione rolled her eyes. "I'll try to avoid it."

"You have got to be joking."

Hermione gave Dorian a confused look. "What?"

"You can fly, yes?"

Her startled look gave her away instantly, and she sighed. "Yes. But I hate when people look at me like..." she paused, looking for the correct way to express it. "Like I'm the most fascinating thing they have ever seen."

"But you are the most fascinating thing we have ever seen."

Hermione sighed again. "Please stop it, Dorian."

He looked a bit surprised. "You really are serious, aren't you?"

Giving Dorian a small, somewhat sheepish smile, she nodded. "I'm not all that fond of being the centre of attention."

He paused, looking thoughtful for a moment before speaking again, sassy as ever. "Would it help if we criticized your technique instead?"

Hermione chuckled. "In fact, yes, it would."

"So, if I promise to tell you all the things I find wrong, will you demonstrate a quick flight?"

Hermione sighed, raised an eyebrow, and then she took off from the ground in a flare of black smoke.

Hermione loved flying, and she had practiced a lot on doing tricks, loops, falling to the ground just to spin up again just before she hit the ground.

It had come in handy when she worked in the Department of Mysteries. The Unspeakables had quite the interesting, but often quite dangerous tasks.

Hermione beamed at the blue sky as she looped, and then let herself fall towards the ground. She didn't fall too far though, because she didn't want to scare the life out of them.

It had been way too long since she flew. I should land, though, she thought. Considering how this zone is filled with random enemies, and not to forget quest givers all around.

Sighing, she did a big loop, focused on a target – Dorian – and sped up.

She had seen Professor Snape land one time. He had sped towards the ground, and she had thought he was about to pummel himself right into certain death, but then he landed perfectly on his feet, smoke flaring around him as he walked, like he hadn't just done this practically impossible thing.

It had taken her a long time to even get close to the amazing way Snape did it, but eventually she had managed. Almost, at least. She would never have the natural grace that Professor Snape had, because wow, the surly, dark professor had grace on a whole new level, surprising as that was.

She chuckled when she saw Dorian's alarmed expression as she flew with lighting speed right toward him. He actually stopped, took a couple of steps back, and she chuckled again.

Approximately three meters in front of them, she changed course, promptly landed – perfectly – and walked towards them as the black smoke flared around her before it vanished.

She stopped in front of them, looking expectantly at Dorian – he was staring at her with wide eyes, and she raised an eyebrow.

His expression changed then, and he gave her a holier-than-thou look. "Rather melodramatic, isn't it?"

Hermione laughed, closed the distance to Dorian, hugged him, and then spun on her heel, practically bouncing away.