And because I felt like it... don't worry, more action next chapters ;) Promise
ENJOY!
Hermione welcomed Sif with a gentle coo allowing her to cradle her head into the nook of her neck – she shivered almost horribly and for a moment Hermione asked herself just where the owl had been to act so scared. Sometimes she wished she could perform Occlumency on the animal just to know what the hell she was thinking.
Sif was scared nowadays, silent even, she tried to attract as little attention as possible, made herself small wherever they went and liked to practically hide in Hermione's hair. There were few persons she let near her nowadays as opposed to the earlier years when she sought attention and caresses from nearly everyone.
During her summer at the Leaky Cauldron, Hermes picked up a lot of news – Death Eaters were on the rise apparently, recruited wherever possible and destroyed what got in their way. From what she had heard the other day, they had even robbed Ollivander's – it had nearly caused her to cry; everyone had their wand from Ollivander's!
Cho's death weighed heavily on her shoulders, but she trudged through. It would be hard to find a replacement, if they would even ever find one, for witches were rare in this world – she would know best. She was glad though to have attended the funeral.
It had been a silent funeral and eventually hardly anyone had been there – not even her family. The rest of the Clover knew that her family had thought her dead since her first year, much like Hermione's, for she'd run away with the letter of her cousin. At least, she figured, Harry had shown up, with Ron this time.
It appeared that the two of them had made up, which was just as well – Harry needed all the support he could get, and Ron was the best man for that. The minister had not shown up, neither had Dumbledore or anyone of the faculty; Hermione did not know if she reproached them for it or not. After all, she could understand the shame they had to feel for failing a young man.
Cho's cat – Crookshanks – had been forwarded to the Clover and had, surprisingly enough, taken a special liking in Hermione, who was glad that Crooks and Sif understood each other as if they were twin-souls. The healf-kneazle never chased the owl and even went as far as leaving her dead mice or rats that he had caught, while she would sometimes detect Sif on the back of the cat, gently prying her talons through the thick fur of the feline.
Pansy and Luna wrote frequently, which provided a nice distraction to the usually quiet life at the Leaky Cauldron at night. Tom had not managed to get the slip to close the Leaky at night – it was a big hub for wizards that wanted to travel and the Ministry cared little for the Death Eater raids at the pub, few as they were. They were a lot more occupied with all the muggle-killings that they had to cover up.
Hermione read through all the killings, hoping against hope that the address of her home would never be listed – it never was. Something other caught her eye though.
Dumbledore flees Great Britain!
Supposedly greatest wizard and headmaster of Hogwarts leaves the isles without a trace
Of course the headlines made it sound a lot worse than it actually was. After reading The Prophet, The Quibbler and then Wizard's Daily Digest, she came to the conclusion that the ministry had replaced Dumbledore with somebody called Dolores Umbridge – a ministry official. Dumbledore had then left the country on a private investigation which had, of course, upset the ministry, but he had returned a few days later.
Hermione furrowed her brows. Dumbledore had been a good headmaster, very good actually, and while she was pleasantly surprised to have a woman as headmistress now, she was not all that convinced about her being a) a ministry official and b) somebody who could not directly do magic – women weren't allowed that privilege, they were only allowed to take theoretical tests.
Defeated Hermione threw herself on her bed – the rage inside her was due to be let out soon, or somebody would pay with their heads, preferably Umbridge. She groaned as she rolled on her back and stared at the cloudy ceiling. Her fears about the woman had been correct – if there was any ministry official that lived for being a ministry official, it was Umbridge.
There is nothing to fear.
There is no war coming on.
Voldemort is not a threat.
Actually… Voldemort who?
Merlin how she was fed up with the lies that woman spout! Voldemort was not a threat? What about the killings in the summer?! What about the freaking Death Eater raids she had lived through?! What about all the students that had lost a part of a family?!
A lie.
Umbridge was a catastrophe.
She had started the speech by telling students her ignorant little tales, all dressed in pink and with that horrible screechy voice and her unnerving 'Hum-hum' that was at least a pitch higher than that of a normal woman. Merlin if she wouldn't have known McGonagall beforehand and had known that wizarding-women (there were no witches) could be normal as well, she'd be horrified of the aspect of having women in the wizarding world as well.
Above her the sky turned dark, preparing for a quick and early nightfall. Hermione stayed awake – Pansy and Luna would probably come by, simply for the sake of not having to sleep in a room full of boys and because her bed was comfy and large enough for the three of them to cuddle.
… And because they hadn't had a good, thorough girl's talk throughout all of summer, they needed to catch up somewhat.
Crookshanks' purring made her smile as she turned her head carefully, watching as Sif's talons sunk into the orange fur – it was a strange symbiosis, she mused sometimes, but it worked out just fine.
This is the property of the Half-Blood Prince
Hermione stared at the book she had taken from Harry. He'd never know of course, because she'd left him the most convincing duplicate – she was quite apt at charms and spells after all, it wouldn't do to be called the Cleverest Wizard Of His Age and be caught because one could not simply duplicate a book.
She had listened to his instructions earlier that day and had found out that would she not have done so, her Draught of Living Death would have proven to be more than just bad. She was miffed that Snape would not oversee all of the Potion's Classes anymore, and that Slughorn would take over some of them, but she figured it was must as alright with her. Snape was probably in conflict with his service to the Dark Lord.
Finally she dared to take a look into the book. Numerous annotations at the side could be found at every page, in black ink and a spiky, all too familiar writing. She narrowed her eyes – that writing was indeed, all too familiar, it reminded her of Snape's writing… a bit immature maybe, but it still had a very strong resemblance.
She thumbed through the book until a spell caught her eye: Sectum Sempra, it read, for enemies, was scribbled just next to it.
Hermione bit her lip. Of course if the spell was created by Snape, who was believed to be a servant to the Dark Lord, and if it was meant for enemies, it could not bode well for anyone who was hit by that spell, right? But still, she was too curious as to how the spell would react. Then again, if it was a version of a killing spell that no one had ever heard of, then it wouldn't do to try, right? And if it hurt someone then there had to be a counter-spell as well.
She thumbed on. Vulnera Sanentur – she found it on the last side of the book, along with all the other counter-spells. They were listed almost alphabetically in short-hand – Hermione had her mind made up. Book hid in her robes, she went for the Room of Requirement.
Three months into the year, Dumbledore came back. All of Hogwarts was relieved, safe for Hermione and the rest of the Clover.
"Did you see his hand?" Pansy asked her one evening – they were perched over their impossible DADA-homework, given by Umbridge. She wouldn't let them practice spells, claiming that there was no war at all and that there was no need to be able to defend oneself. Harry had dared to speak up against her and had ended up having a detention with Blood Quills – Hermione hated the woman all the more.
"Dumbledore's you mean?" Luna asked silently. They had taken up residence in their usual corner in the Restricted Section, had cast a profound privacy spell around them, as well as alarming spells that would ring in their ears if somebody came too close. Hermione placed her quill on her parchment, now looking at the two witches opposite of her – they'd put down their quills as well.
"It's gray and shrunk – as if he had a case of Leprosy, but without actually rotting flesh – it looks… like a dried fruit." The blond nodded.
Hermione chewed her lip in thought, the two witches looked at her as she tried to connect dots. "He was away in summer, was he not?" she said silently. "I mean, it was all over the papers that he's been to Albania – perhaps that's something to do with it. Otherwise I'd say it is a very nasty curse, especially since it seems to spread, his neck is affected already."
Pansy nodded. "If it were a spreading curse then it may be possible that he'll not stay for a longer period of time."
Hermione and Luna's eyes widened in shock – the Slytherin silently continued. "I've heard of curses like that. If it is one, then it will spread and shrink and wither the heart as well, any organ for that purpose actually… meaning that if it spreads over his neck already, it is possible he'll start having respiratory problems, before it affects the heart."
Luna groaned and in an uncommon burst of anger slapped her palms down on the table. "This is ridiculous! Dumbledore is dying – and he is the only thing that really keeps Voldemort from this school – and we have a damned ministry whore in our school that will not fucking allow us to prepare for the bloody war that is fucking coming!"
Parcival and Hermes gaped like fish. Luna was normally rather composed, and refrained from using bad language – the subject had to upset her a lot more than she let on if she resorted to using foul words. The silence in their booth was only interrupted by the heavy breaths of the blond, before the young woman broke down.
"Dad's gone to them." She whispered despaired, hiding her face in her hands – Hermione blanched and went over to hug her friend, Pansy did the same.
"My whole family has too – I'm expected to as soon as I'm eighteen." The Slytherin confessed and Hermione proceeded to hug them both close to her. This was worse than she had expected – she knew that neither Luna nor Pansy would want to join Voldemort's cause, but by liability of the family, a young person was demanded to join the cause as well – it was either that or death. Things were too serious to play on.
It was in this moment in the library, when Pansy and Luna both hid under her arms, shaking with what their future might bring, that Hermione finally vowed to do everything to ensure that Voldemort would be dead. She had to be strong for her friends, she had to be strong for Harry and Ron as well, she had to be strong for all the wizarding-women that still were not aware of her being a true witch, she had to be strong for all the witches that might one day follow, she had to be strong for herself.
"If you want to, you can hide at the Leaky with me. There are raids, but they've never entered any rooms – and if that isn't safe… then we'll simply find something safe." She said resolutely, drawing the two girls near and stroking them to ease. "I do not want you to return. Neither of you would join, and I don't want to lose you. I'll kidnap you if that's what it takes."
Both girls smiled at her last comment and cuddled closer to her.
"This is so ridiculous." Hermione seethed as they lay in their bed in the Room of Requirement. Not being allowed to practice spells made it so much harder to actually understand what should happen when reciting the spells and would it not have been for the Clover-meetings, she'd have all but forgotten how to actually use a wand!
Luna nodded desperately as she cooled down from the Cruciatus attacks they had just put her through. The three of them had been discussing how they all got better at the curse simply because they were so frustrated with Umbridge.
"Hermione… I've been thinking." Pansy began, cuddling close to Luna, "I mean, of course Umbridge would never allow an official duel club –she's a ministry official and has a bit more power than Dumbledore. BUT what we do, the meetings, where we teach each other… we could do that for others as well, no?"
"Dumbledore's Army, yes?"
Ron munched on his x-th muffin. Hermes realized by now that he would probably never learn to close his mouth while eating, let alone not to speak with a full mouth – but perhaps that was just Weasley.
Hermes nodded at Harry. "Think of it. It would be ideal – people would be prepared for not only what is about to come, but we would also be able to improve our DADA-grades and encourage interaction of the houses! Three flies with one hit."
Potter still looked unsure, Lysander cut in, his voice gentle and airy as always. "Listen, Harry, you know as well as we do, that things are happening, whether the ministry wants to acknowledge this or not. The raids aren't stopping and there are those that are affected directly – people want to fight, they want to feel like they have a possibility to survive a fight with a Death Eater. And we can give them that feeling, you can give them that feeling. You have survived four encounters with Voldemort, if not you then who should spear-head such an… underground club?"
It amazed Hermione every time when Luna started to speak – whether or not her father was a Death Eater, but he'd surely taught his girl to find the right words. Harry stayed silent for a little, before a glint sparked in his eyes and he smirked.
"We'd be breaking ministry's rules." He said conspirationally. "I'm surprised, Hermes, that the idea was yours."
Hermione smirked back at him. "You'd be surprised, Harry, just how many rules we've already broken. So… are you in?"
"Dumb question, 'course I am!"
It's the prelude to the war...
