Disclaimer:

I do not own the world and characters featured in this Harry Potter fanfiction, nor do I have permission to use them. Harry Potter, his story, and the settings and characters involved in it, are owned and trademarked by JK Rowling and the many licensors of her work. I do not make money through this story.

.:/*\:.

The Monday before her NEWTs, Hermione made an appointment with Professor Snape and the Headmistress. As she made her way to the Head Office, she was still wondering if this was the way forward. It felt both right and a betrayal of her mentor to keep from her just what Hermione had done. But if there was one thing Hermione was certain of in the wizarding world, it was that secrets had a bad habit of coming out at the least opportune moment. As the Founders had pointed out, the Ministry — for a reason known only to themselves — would delight in making sure they could ruin both her life and Hogwarts with a few well-placed words and machinations. And Hermione had fought too hard to buy her freedom and the right to be at Hogwarts.

"Come in, come in, Hermione. Have a seat. How are you studies going?"

Hermione watched from the corner of her eye as Professor Snape rolled his eyes.

"I doubt this is why the girl is here, Minerva."

"Oh shush, Severus. Just because you refuse to use the good manners your mother instilled in you…"

"That is not good manners, Minerva. It is you, wasting precious time. The girl is taking her NEWTs in less than a week, and you saddled her with working out how to deal with the School Wards. She has other things to do than listening to you prattle on."

"My, my, Severus. Are you looking out for one of my favorite cubs?"

The younger witch bit her tongue as the Headmistress's words unknowingly echoed Hermione's own thoughts.

"May I remind you that if you 'cub' fails, I'll be the one who has to pick up the slack? At least, Miss Granger has the decency to keep me in the loop and not waste my time."

"Ah, Professor Snape," Hermione smiled, "I think you will then be very happy to learn that I have solved the problem of the School Wards."

The Headmistress and her Deputy stopped in the middle of their little sniping game and turn to look at the younger witch in the room.

"To be fair," Hermione continued, "I will need the help of the entire staff to put my plan into action. I have neither the stamina nor the raw magical power to pull it off on my own. I have, however, managed to find the reset ward."

The Headmistress sat heavily into her seat, a long sigh of what could only be relief escaping her. For his part, Snape looked quite concerned. His gaze traveled from his old friend to his old student, and back again.

"Why do I have the feeling that it's not that simple, Miss Granger?"

"Well… It is and it isn't, I suppose. If we do go ahead and reset the wards, I'm afraid that they will revert all the way back to the original designs."

"You mean…" Minerva started.

"As created by Perseus Draconis, yes," Hermione finished for her. "I've studied the Wards Map. Over the years, each Head of the school has added to the protections. Not always doing a very good job, but the School always layered the additional wards to get the maximum effect possible. Reverting to the original wards comes with its own set of problems, but it's the only way I could find…"

Professor McGonagall was nodding along, but the Head of Slytherin was watching her, his black eyes staring straight through to her soul it felt. Hermione suppressed a shiver. He knew full well she was lying — or rather, not sharing the complete facts with them. And Severus Snape would not let it stand for too long. But once more, his tenebrous gaze flicked to the Headmistress and he held his tongue. He was worried for Minerva McGonagall, Hermione realized. Her Head of House did look tired, the weight of re-opening Hogwarts against all odds threatening to bring her down.

Just two years ago, the Scottish witch had be laid down by five Stunners to the chest. And the last eighteen months, spent looking over her shoulder and fighting against two Death Eaters determined to torture the children under her guard, had taken their toll. Not to mention that she'd been instrumental in defending the castle during the final battle, not only activating the defenses as acting Head and adding her own strength to the collective shield but also fighting countless Death Eaters only to face Voldemort in the Great Hall. And now, she was fighting the people who were supposed to help…

"The major problem will be timing," Hermione continued. "We'll need every member of staff to help out. And everyone will need to be at their best because it will be a very taxing piece of magic, from what I understand."

"Can't we ask others to join in?" the Headmistress intervened. "I'm sure the Order would be willing to help."

"Maybe so, but we need people with complete control over their magic. Master-level only. The Master Ward will boost me, so I can direct the magic where it needs to go. But I know that even the slightest shift in the supply of so much power will throw me completely off balance. I'm no master. And sadly, I'm the only one the Master Ward will work with."

The Headmistress nodded once more, a thoughtful look upon her face. And then Snape scoffed.

"I'd never thought I'd see the day."

The Headmistress whirled on him, scowling, but Snape was only smirking as he watched Hermione.

"A lioness who admits to her limits and acts rationally about it."

Hermione's eyes went wide and she had to press her lips hard together to stop the snort from escaping. But the Headmistress narrowed her eyes further and tutted loudly at her Deputy, drawing Snape's purposefully blank gaze to her. Hermione felt the chuckles bubbling in her belly and stood.

"If it's okay with you, Professor Snape, I'll work out the ritual in more details then come to you for your input."

Her voice squeaked on some of the words, fighting to hold the strange, relieved laughter at bay. The adults turned to her and dismissed her, McGonagall with twinkling eyes and a kind nod, Snape with a blink and a hidden smile.

.:/*\:.

As she had said, Hermione continued to split her time between the Wards, preparing for the NEWTs, and training for the Goblin test. Although no one said anything to her, she also had the distinct impression that the entire staff of Hogwarts was colluding to keep everything and everyone going as smoothly as possible for her. Professor Snape had helped to come up with the exact ritual they would need, as well as the optimal placement of each individual within the school ground. She'd casually mentioned the Centaurs' and the Merpeople's involvement but she had a feeling that Snape realized that something else was going on. As per their unspoken agreement in the Headmistress's office, he hadn't asked. Yet. If there was one thing Hermione knew about the Potion Master, it was that he never forgot. He actually cornered her the weekend before her NEWTs started.

"Care to explain?"

Hermione simply nodded and Snape went off, leading the way to his office. The young witch followed, already planning what she would and would not share with her professor. As they sat in their respective seats, the dark wizard leaned his elbows on his desktop with his lips resting lightly against the top of his steepled fingers.

"Talk."

Hermione blinked then leaned back in her seat, her teeth worrying at her bottom lip. The potioneer's lips twisted into a half smirk, even as he looked to the ceiling for an instant. His narrowed gaze fell back onto her and she was pulled in by the black ice of his eyes before she remembered she was facing a master Legilimens and she dropped her gaze, looking anywhere but in those dark irises.

"Miss Granger, I have taught you for six years," came the smooth baritone after a minute or so of silence. "You and I both know you cannot lie to save your life. We also already know that Hogwarts is… favoring you, for lack of a better word. Tell me what you can, and I shall… refrain from prying. Much."

Somehow, this little speech didn't fill Hermione with confidence. But she sighed and fixed her gaze onto the dark professor's desk.

"As I mentioned, I'm now able to reset the wards."

"And I suppose you won't tell me how you have come by this ability?"

"I… found the reset ward?"

Snape's blank stare caused Hermione to fidget in her seat then throw her hands up.

"I can't tell you more, sir."

"Can't? Or won't?"

Hermione paused for a moment. "Can't, I think. I haven't been told that I'm not allowed, but I feel that the less people know about my connections to the wards, the better."

"Better for whom, Miss Granger?"

"Everyone, sir."

Snape blinked. He then waved the question aside.

"What can you tell me of the ritual?"

"I can tell you that the ritual require a steady supply of power. In normal circumstances, a wards master would use the foundation wards and draw power directly from the ley lines in order to activate the reset ward. I do not have the knowledge or the control required to achieve this. So masters of other discipline will supply the control. Knowledge will be supplied by the Master Ward and I will act as an intermediary of sorts. I will activate backup measures that will channel a small portion of the ley lines' power into each participant. That power will then be supplied to me and in turn to the reset ward."

"And the reason why you are the one to handle the Master Ward?"

Hermione cringed and said nothing. For his part, Professor Snape growled in the back of his throat, on hand coming up to pinch the bridge of his nose.

"Why do I feel like you've taken the place of The-Boy-Who-Lived-To-Be-A-Pain-In-My-Ass?"

Hermione choked on her snorted laugh and Snape gave her a definite stink-eye. The young witch swallowed, repeating in her mind several times just who it was she was sitting across of. Just because Snape had acted — well, nicer wasn't the right word but it was the closest she could come — it didn't mean he would not chew her up and spit her out if she got on his bad side again.

"Have you ever read the Hogwarts Charter, sir?" Hermione hedged with a bit of a grimace on her face.

"No," Snape blinked at the non sequitur. "The document has been out of date for a long time. Well before even Headmaster Dumbledore's time."

Hermione shook her head. "If I may, Deputy Headmaster, read the Charter. It'd probably answer a lot of your questions right now."

"Will it, now?"

The Potion Master fixed his gleaming black gaze on her, and Hermione did her best to return it calmly. It wasn't her fault if a clever Slytherin went about researching the situation and stumbled upon the existence of the Dragon. Of the facts that the Charter was still very much relevant and the Ministry of Magic was shirking their duties to the school.

"Have you fixed a date?"

"Whenever the professors can spare the time. Although I'd rather if we waited until after my Goblin test."

"Goblin test?"

Hermione turned her head sideways, regarding her professor.

"I am an adult Goblin. As such, I need to learn to fight properly."

"I see."

Hermione wasn't quite sure if he chose to drop the subject or if he really did know what it was all about, but Snape said nothing more and she didn't volunteer any more information. The Potion Master finally let her go and Hermione returned to her training regimen.

.:/*\:.

Time flew by, as it usually does when you wish it wouldn't. Hermione learned and trained. She went to see Hagdar as planned and he sent her off with their Clan's best wishes. Soon, the young witch found herself in a small room with an elderly wizard to oversee her first NEWT. The runes she was requested to translate were nothing compared to what Bathsheba had already given her to work on and she was not worried at all about the results of the one NEWT that could have seen the plans already in place for her come crashing down around her ears. The arithmantic calculations and herbology questions that followed were also far easier than what Professor Snape had subjected her to over the past month.

The pattern continued over the rest of the week. Hermione would turn up, ace the questions, and produce the spells, potions, charms, or whatever else was required of her. She would use whatever time she had leftover to train harder than before. She assiduously read through the various theories of combat that would be available to her as a dual fighting Goblin. She then worked through the forms required. She soon discovered why the new regimen Hagdar had given her focused more on stamina: the shadowmancers might be the masters of stealth but to be efficient, they also had to be both fit and relentless. When stealth failed them, the shadowmancers relied on speed and agility to keep an edge over their opponent. They needed to be able to dodge incoming attacks and hopefully flank their adversary before he could initiate a second attack. It involved a lot of somersaulting, rolling on the ground, and just plain speed at times. And those without the stamina to keep these kind of moves going during the fight would soon find themselves cleaved in half. The true masters were recorded as able to function with only a few hours of sleep each night, a testament to their endurance.

By the end of the week, Hermione felt confident she had done as well as she could during the NEWTs and she was as prepared as she could be for her meeting with Saarkhai Stazishi. She'd gone as far as requesting the use of the Room of Requirement and she'd spent her Saturday afternoon sparring against animated dummies. With only a couple of days until her test, she chose to forgo her training that evening and went out to walk around Black Lake. In a bid to get used to her traditional Goblin attire, she had donned her leather armor and her weapons. Silfkil had delivered a bow along with a quiver full of arrows, a gift from Bjorker who'd written that she probably wouldn't be expected to use it during her test but she still needed to have it with her.

And so Hermione made her way outside. She stopped just outside of the Entrance Doors, breathing in the evening air and closing her eyes to let the moment sink into her soul. She then started to walk, thinking of the coming days. Not ten minutes in her outing, the sounds of hooves behind her made her look over her shoulder. Professor Firenze trotted to her side and fell in step with her.

"I've received a message from Nyferial. The foal is now better and the Herd extends their thanks to both you and Professor Snape."

Hermione smiled and nodded. "Glad to hear it."

The two of them continued down the path in silence for a few minutes. The quiet was broken now and then by the splashes of the squid in the lake and the tweeting of birds in the trees.

"The Headmistress has mentioned that you have now sorted out the ritual for the rewarding."

Hermione blinked and looked up at the Centaur beside her. Firenze kept in gaze on the path, but his lips twitched in a smile.

"Of course, I did not mention the reason why you are suddenly able to do this. As far as the humans know, you've just worked it out the way you usually do anything when you set your mind to it."

"And I thank you for this."

Firenze shrugged.

"What exactly do you know?"

"That the only way you could use the reset ward was if you are now the Dragon. The Herd lived when the Founders started this school, and our memory runs long and clear."

Hermione nodded once more. There was obviously no need to tell Firenze to keep this a secret. If he were going to talk, he would already have said something to the Headmistress, who in turn would have mentioned it to her. She fingered the string of the bow slung across her back, lost in thoughts.

"Have you learned to use this yet?"

"I'm sorry, what?"

"Your bow. Do you know how to use it?"

Hermione shook her head and Firenze smiled before he gestured for her to follow him. Intrigued, the Goblin witch trailed after the Centaur as he stepped off the path running around Black Lake and started to tread toward the Forest. The professor led her a little way into the trees then stopped and turned around.

"See the largest oak tree by the edge of the treeline."

Hermione turned and followed Firenze's line of sight.

"This is your target."

Hermione glanced sideways at her companion then grabbed her bow.

"Your target is close enough that you don't have to worry about angling your shot. Which one is your dominant eye?" Hermione glanced sideways again and Firenze smiled. "Which is your wand arm?"

Hermione held up her right arm.

"I'm sure your trainer will eventually tell you all this," Firenze continued as he stepped in front Hermione. "Just as you have a dominant hand, you have a dominant eye. We will assume that it is your right one at this moment. But you'll need to find out for yourself."

Hermione nodded, filing yet another piece of information to act upon in her brain, idly wondering if she should get a electronic organizer to keep track of it all. The Centaur tapped her left arm.

"Always wear your arm guard and sort sort of chest protection when shooting, or you'll end up hurting yourself. And you should also wear a glove to protect your drawing fingers."

Firenze presented her with his own glove. Hermione put it on, spelling it to shrink and better fit her hand.

"Let's get you familiar with your weapon first."

Firenze extended his hand and Hermione gave him her bow.

"Recurve bows make for better faster and more powerful shots. Just make sure you restring it properly when comes the time to maintain your weapon. Now, your bow has a notch here," Firenze pointed out. "This is the arrow rest. As the name indicates, you will rest the shaft of your arrow here when about to shoot. On the string, you will see two beads. Your arrow must be nocked in between them. Some bows only have one bead. Then your arrow must be placed just below the nock bead. Your arrows have three vanes. When nocking one, make sure one of the feathers is pointing away from the bow so they don't throw your aim off."

As he continued to talk, Firenze handed Hermione her weapon back and moved behind her.

"Hold the bow in your left hand. Stand up straight but loose," the Centaur moved the young witch into position, "facing at a right angle from your target, and with your feet shoulder-width apart. Keep your bow pointed at the ground and nock your arrow. Make sure the shaft is fully onto the arrow rest. Hold your arrow between your index and your middle finger with your ring finger holding the string."

Firenze stopped and took a few steps back. Hermione looked over her shoulder at him, awaiting further instructions.

"You need to raise and draw at the same time. You should try to keep your left arm as relaxed as possible, with your elbow parallel to the ground. As you finish your draw, your string hand will come to rest by your face. This will be your anchor point and you will use it again and again as an aiming reference point when shooting. By the end of this move, you should be able to see straight down your arrow shaft. Focus on your target and then relax your finger to let your arrow fly. Do not move further until your arrow has stopped."

Hermione nodded and turned her attention back onto the tree. She breathed out long and slow and went through the motions, nocking an arrow then raising her arms as she drew the string back. She aligned her shot as she best could then let her arrow go. The shaft of wood flew out and passed a good foot to the right of the trunk, skittering to a stop on the bank of the lake.

"Not bad for a first shot," Firenze said with a smile. "Your release threw your aim out. Your hand wobbled slightly under the strain. Your release must be clean if you want to hit your aim."

Hermione sighed as she let her left arm drop.

"I just wish I had more time to practice," she muttered. "But I offer you my thanks for the impromptu lesson, Professor."

The Centaur nodded and looked to the Black Forest.

"I must go join my herd for a while. Will you be all right walking back on your own."

"Of course, Professor."

With a parting nod and a smile, Firenze turned tail and trotted off through the trees. For her part, Hermione went to retrieve her arrow, wondering if she could get the Room of Requirement to give her a target to practice on.

.:/*\:.

The rest of the weekend passed uneventfully. The last of the physical repairs to the Castle had been completed while Hermione sat her NEWTs. The only people now left in the school were the professors and Hermione, the guests and workers having gone back home. It made for a very quiet breakfast on Monday morning. Hermione presented herself to the meal in full Goblin armor, drawing an appreciative squeak from Professor Flitwick.

"A shadowmancer among us," the half-Goblin said as he toasted her with his morning cup of tea, "the Gods favor us this day."

Hermione ducked her head, feeling her cheeks warm under the combined gazes of her teachers.

"Leave it out, Filius," McGonagall finally said, "you're embarrassing the girl."

The Headmistress waved the younger witch forward, indicating the only empty seat left right between her and Professor Snape.

"I trust the Goblins will take it easy on the one person able to secure the School Wards?"

"I'm sure I'll be perfectly fine, Headmistress."

Hermione took her bow from across her back and leaned it against the back of her chair. She did the same with her katana, unsnapping the sheathed weapon from her belt. She then took her seat after nodding in turn to McGonagall and Snape. Her breakfast was composed of half a slice of dry toast chased down with a cup of tea. Neither professors commented on her unusual meal and Hermione was grateful for it. Finally, it was time for her to leave and Hermione went on her way, Silfkil on one shoulder, her weapons secured to her person, and all the while wondering just what would happen if she failed this test.

.:/*\:.

AN: I would like to take the opportunity offered by this chapter to thank everyone who has reviewed, followed, favorited, and PM'ed me after my last chapter! You guys are the greatest!

I hope this new chapter lives up to your expectations.