Disclaimer: For further reference, see the work of J. K. Rowling (1997, 1998, 1999, 2000, 2003, 2005, and 2007).

A/N: And here's your bonus chapter. I had to all but rebuild it from the ground up to fit what I wanted to do, but I hope it came out well. Stay tuned as things really heat up on Saturday.

Did I embellish Ron a little from canon? Yes, but you don't become good enough to beat Hermione and McGonagall at chess by being stupid. I like to think my version is fairly true to the spirit of the books.

Thanks to Sdarian for pointing out a plot error in this chapter.

Chapter 34

Hermione's potions paper was accepted after some minor revisions. In stark contrast to Professor Snape's usual demeanour, the editor seemed very supportive and was impressed by her intellectual precociousness and out-of-the-box thinking. The paper was fast-tracked to be featured in The Practical Potioneer in early April, and the editor promised to send Hermione and her parents each a free copy, as well as Professor Vector, when Hermione asked. She knew, of course, that Professor Snape would see it when it was published, and from watching carefully at breakfast, she knew that Professor Dumbledore subscribed to many scholarly magical journals as well as what she was pretty sure was a muggle astronomy journal, so it promised to be very interesting.

Severus Snape had come up to breakfast on the fifth of April expecting a quite ordinary day. He was in a somewhat better mood than usual, though, as he was expecting to enjoy reading the latest developments in his field in The Practical Potioneer—about the most interesting thing that normally happened in this place. When the mail came, he took his copy from the delivery owl, as did Albus and, oddly, Septima, but he didn't think anything of it.

But then, featured right in the front as a newcomers' article, Snape saw a title that made him choke on his coffee, and it was a good thing he did, too, because a moment later, he saw the byline, and that would have had him spitting it all over the table: MUGGLES AND SQUIBS ARE ABLE TO BREW POTIONS USING RUNIC SPELL CLUSTERS by H. J. Granger.

Snape looked up and over at the Gryffindor Table and spotted the purported author's bushy hair. Looking closely, he saw the second-year was also reading a copy of The Practical Potioneer. It didn't seem possible, but he flipped to the end of the article, and there it was:

Editor's note: Miss H. J. Granger has identified herself as a second-year student at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, and we congratulate her on making a valuable contribution to the field of potions at such a young age.

Snape began reading the article in earnest, wondering how even that bright of a student could had snuck something so ridiculous past the editor. But as he read, his eyes grew wider and wider. This actually looked legitimate. She had even published the runic cluster she had used, and it was trivially simple, albeit written in rarely-used Latin runes, like the things Professor Babbling had been teaching in her seminars. He narrowly avoided a spit take again when he saw that the circle was credited to Granger & Weasley (1992), unpublished. And not only would the experiment itself be trivial to repeat, but the girl had documented her own work extremely thoroughly, sparing no details from start to finish:

Subject A is a squib who has attempted to learn magic in the past using the Kwikspell Method, but has reported not having any success with either spells or potions.

Subjects D and E are muggles and the parents of a muggle-born magical child. They have had no formal magical instruction. However, Subject E has successfully brewed simple potions that do not require wand work.

Subject H is a wizard and a second-year student at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. Subject H consistently tests Acceptable in Potions and has successfully brewed Alihotsy Draught in the past.

And the article went on from there with procedures, observations, results, and conclusions, all conducted with at least a N.E.W.T. level of professionalism. It was, of course, obvious who the girl's test subjects were, although those who did not know her very well might miss the answer. As much as Severus hated to admit it, it was impressive—frustrating, but impressive.

Hermione watched as Snape kept looking down at his journal and back up at her with a more and more appraising look on his face. Professor Dumbledore had finished reading the article already and was flashing her a broad smile. Professor Vector also smiled and nodded to her as she skimmed it.

"Does Snape actually look…impressed?" Alicia Spinnet whispered by her side.

"And why shouldn't he be?" said Percy Weasley. "Not just anyone can publish a scholarly article in their second-year."

Ginny was silent, but was watching the scene in awe.

"I think you broke him, Hermione" said Ron, as Snape kept looking back and forth between her and his journal.

"Yeah, good job," Fred added. "It's about time someone got him good."

Hermione smiled shyly and scanned the Hall. Cedric Diggory flashed her a thumbs up from the Hufflepuff Table. Roger Davies pointed at her and appeared to be whispering what was going on to Rebecca Gamp, another girl from their Arithmancy class. She regarded Hermione with narrowed eyes, as if she didn't believe it. The Slytherins had noticed Snape was acting odd and were whispering to each other, wondering what was going on.

But now, Dumbledore was giving Snape a very pointed look and gesturing to him in some kind of improvised sign language. Snape seemed to be doing his best to ignore him, but Dumbledore repeated the gesture, and finally, when he couldn't ignore it any longer, and he stood up and cleared his throat, looking like he had bit into a lemon. He addressed the Hall: "It has come to my attention that Miss Hermione Granger has made a significant contribution to the field of potions that has merited publication in The Practical Potioneer." Surprised whispers broke out around the Hall. "This is a…most impressive feat for a second year student, and for this show of talent, I award Miss Granger…" Snape was almost shaking as he ground out the words. "…ten points to Gryffindor."

The Great Hall erupted into cheers and shouts of disbelief. It wasn't much objectively, but that was more points than Snape had given to Gryffindor at once than anybody could remember. If the professors hadn't been watching, Hermione was sure some of her fellow Gryffidors would have lifted her on their shoulders. Of course, many of the Slytherins were glaring at her, but mostly, people were just shocked, including some of the teachers.

"See, this is what we love about you, Hermione," said Fred.

"You can prank the whole school—" George continued.

"—just by being yourself."

As icing on the cake, Hermione had Potions the first thing after breakfast that day. She braced herself for Snape's snide remarks, or for him to take away more points than usual, but to the whole class's surprise (and the Slytherins' dismay), he didn't do anything different from his normal abrasive tone…up until he asked her to stay after class. Hermione asked Ron to wait outside the door for her, remembering that she still wasn't to go anywhere alone.

"Yes, Professor?" she said nervously.

"Miss Granger…I wanted to tell you that I meant what I said at breakfast. Your potions paper was most impressive…" He paused, and she thought she saw a wistful look flit through his eyes. "I myself did not make any original discoveries in potions until my fourth year."

"Um, thank you, sir," Hermione said, waiting warily for whatever Snape's real purpose was.

"If you should find you are interested in performing an independent study in the subject, I would…not be opposed to considering your request."

Her eyebrows shot up. This was far more civil than she ever expected him to be. "I…I doubt I'll be doing that much with potions in the future," she said, "but thank you for the offer, sir."

Snape nodded, but then he said the other part of his piece: "I should warn you, Miss Granger, that a highly intelligent muggle-born such as yourself is likely to attract the attention of some individuals who do not approve of such a thing…I do not mean that you should hold yourself back—merely that you should be watchful, especially in light of the events of the past year."

"I…I…" she stammered. "Why are you telling me this, Professor?"

Snape sneered at her, but only a little: "Because as a professor of this school, I am obligated to ensure the safety of all of my students." He turned away and muttered, so that Hermione could barely hear it, "And a not insignificant amount of professional admiration." She wasn't even sure she'd heard him right when he said, more loudly, "That will be all, Miss Granger."

"Yes, sir," she said, and went on to her next class.

The initial reaction to Hermione's potions discovery was disbelief, followed by surprise and some anger. Draco Malfoy was glaring at her more than ever, for example, while Rebecca Gamp cornered her after their next Arithmancy class and demanded to know how she had pulled of publishing a paper as a second year (and was a little surprised when Hermione answered forthrightly). Filch congratulated her, but asked her to be discreet around him to avoid tipping anyone off about his status.

Since few students actually read the article, the reaction was slow-rolling, even with Snape's point-giving, but she got a number of letters from the public, both positive and negative. Several of them were along the lines of how dare she taint the practice of magic by spreading it to the unworthy muggles and squibs, or things like that, but there were also several letters from delighted parents of muggle-borns asking how they could get some of those runic spells. (She later learnt that an enterprising vendor in Diagon Alley had copied her design and begun selling them.) But the best response was from Slug and Jiggers Apothecary, which thanked her for bringing in a sudden windfall of parents of muggle-borns buying potions kits. Being responsible salespeople, they pushed them very hard to also buy instruction books and safety manuals from them. They were so grateful that they sent her a voucher for a free third-year potions kit.

Meanwhile, school went on, and during Easter holidays, the second-years were expected to choose their elective classes for next year that they would pursue through their O.W.L.s. The choices were Ancient Runes, Arithmancy, Care of Magical Creatures, Divination, and Muggle Studies. Hermione was still taking Arithmancy, of course, but she couldn't decide what else to take.

All students must take at least two electives through O.W.L. Level, the noticed had read. Students wishing to take more than three electives must obtain special permission from their head of house.

Hermione was seriously considering taking everything. She had no doubt that Professor McGonagall would give her permission. Presumably, the only reason it was restricted was the workload, and her marks were impeccable, and she'd never failed to get her homework done.

From a discussion with her fourth-year friends, she gathered that Runes and Magical Creatures was the most popular "serious" combination, mainly by process of elimination. Arithmancy was perceived as the hardest class, and so was not very popular, while Divination and Muggle Studies were both considered an easy O. Even so, she thought they all sounded fascinating, even Muggle Studies—it would be good to get more of the wizards' point of view on muggles. She only wished she could get her year-mates to show the same enthusiasm.

"Do you know what you're going to take, Harry?" she asked as the deadline drew near.

"I dunno. I was just gonna go with whatever Ron took."

"Really? But honestly, you kind of have different strengths than he does. Don't you think you should play to those?"

"But I'm only really good at Quidditch."

"That's not true!" Hermione said. "I think you're pretty good at Defence—I know it's hard to tell with Professor Lockhart," she admitted. "And you're pretty good at charms, too." Then, she smiled: "I think you should take Arithmancy."

"Oi, leave him alone, Hermione. That's like the hardest class for normal people like us," Ron said from nearby.

"I know it's considered the hardest class, Ron, but Harry went to muggle primary school. Professor Vector says muggle maths classes prepare students better than most purebloods learn. I bet you'd do pretty well in that class, Harry."

"You really think so?" he said hopefully.

"Yes I do, Harry. You're not stupid, and with your background, you should have a good head start."

"Okay, I guess I can try it, then," he said.

Hermione smiled at him encouragingly.

"I can't believe you're going over to her side," Ron complained.

"And just that's supposed to mean?" she wheeled on her other friend.

"I mean you've got him taking the hard classes, like you."

"There's nothing wrong with taking the more challenging classes, Ronald," she said, glaring at him. "And just what classes are you signing up for."

"Eh, I thought I'd go with Magical Creatures and Divination."

"Divination? Really?"

"Yeah, so? Aren't you thinking of taking it."

"I might, but only because it sounds interesting, and I'm not sure about it. Professor Vector says it's really unreliable, and unless you have a really keen interest, you should think about taking something more productive."

"Well, I'm sorry if we can't all be like you," Ron snapped.

"You don't have to be like me. You just have to apply yourself to something you're good at."

"I'm not good at anything, though," he complained loudly. "I'm pants at our regular classes already."

"You are not, Ron."

"I'm sure not great at them. If I take an easy O, I can at least bring up my average."

"I'm sure you can do better than an easy O."

"Hey! Why don't you just leave me alone and let me pick my own classes, Hermione?"

"Fine," she snapped. "But, for Merlin's sake, Ron, how can someone as…smart as you be such an idiot?" She turned to leave.

"I'm not smart, Hermione!" Ron yelled back. They two of them didn't even notice Harry edging away from the argument. "I'm not some genius who can do maths in my head and take all the classes and memorise my course books or however you do what you do. I'm just a normal guy from a normal family."

Hermione ignored the slight and shot back, "Ron, I know your family. There's not a single one of you who's not brilliant at something."

"Oh, come on," he grumbled. "My dad's stuck in the Misuse of Muggle Artifacts Office, and Mum just stays at home."

Hermione couldn't help but gasp: "You shouldn't talk about your parents like that," she scolded, "and your dad's not 'stuck'. He loves his job. And he's brilliant, too. He enchanted a car to fly and turn invisible, honestly! Plus, he pushed controversial muggle protection legislation through the Wizengamot—it takes a lot of savvy to do something like that. I'll grant he doesn't have that good a grasp on muggle technology…but maybe you should take Muggle Studies, then. You could teach your dad a thing or two."

Ron turned around to face her. "You really think so?" he said hopefully after a pause.

"If you really work at it. I've heard the curriculum is pretty weak, but if it's any good at all, it'll be thirty years ahead of what he took…And I'll help you out when I can."

"Wow, thanks…hmm, I guess I can take that instead of Divination."

"Great. And I stand by what I said. Everyone in your family is brilliant."

"Nah, my brothers, maybe, by my mum—she's nice, and all, but she's still…just Mum."

"Ron, I've had your Mum's cooking," Hermione said flatly. "In the muggle world, she could have her own television show. Not to mention your house is still standing after fifteen years of Fred and George living there. Don't put down your parents just because their skills aren't in book smarts. Yes, that's my thing, but it doesn't have to be everybody's. And anyway, you know how good your brothers are—even Fred and George finished the Veritaserum flawlessly and concoct elaborate pranks on a weekly basis—" She lowered her voice to a whisper on that last part.

"Yeah, but me and Ginny don't have that kind of talent—"

"Ginny's got talent to spare. She figured out how to sneak your brooms out from the shed when she was six, and do you think just any first year could master that Bat-Bogey Hex of hers?"

"She snuck our brooms—?" Ron said in shock. "Wait, that's why she flies so well? She's been playing us the whole time!"

"Well, you're the ones who never let her fly. Like I said, she's got talent to spare, and so do you."

"But—"

"Don't. Even. Say it. Ronald Bilius Weasley. You're better at chess than I am, and that's saying something. Better than McGonagall, even. You're a brilliant strategist. And you know practically everything there is to know about Quidditch. And you're great with voices and languages. Professor Babbling even said you have a natural talent for Ancient Runes at that last seminar, remember? I was going to say I think you should take that, too."

"Seriously? But that was kid stuff."

"She didn't seem to think so. And you helped me figure out that runic circle last year—that was enough to get your name mentioned in The Practical Potioneer."

"It's still not the same as the class."

At that point, Hermione couldn't take it anymore: "Oh…Ron, will you just get your head out of your arse and admit you're actually good at something for once?"

The entire Common Room stopped and stared, and she shrank back uncomfortably, rapidly turning red.

Ron gaped, staring speechless for a long minute. "Blimey, Hermione," he said, "I never thought I'd hear you say something like that." Several people sniggered.

"Well…well…you deserve it," she stammered. "I mean it; you should take Ancient Runes and Muggle Studies."

Ron still didn't look convinced: "But I kinda really did want to take Magical Creatures," he said.

"You can take three electives," Hermione said matter-of-factly.

"Are you serious?"

She glared at him.

"You are serious." He sat still, not speaking as Hermione continued to glare at him. Finally, he broke. "Alright, I'll do it," he said. "But if I go mad next year, I'm hexing you first."

"It's a deal," Hermione said dryly.

As things finally calmed down in the Common Room, Harry nervously spoke up: "Well…then…I guess I'll sign up for Magical Creatures as my other class," he said. "Then, we'll at least be having that one together."

"I think that's an excellent idea," Hermione said, to Harry's relief. They both knew languages weren't his strong point, and he thought learning about magical creatures sounded fun and might serve him well someday.

As for Hermione, though, she still uncertain about what to do. After largely ignoring all the advice she was getting from students, she went to the one person whose advice she most respected and expressed her desire to take all of the classes.

"Are you really sure you want to do that, Hermione?" Professor Vector asked.

"I think so, Professor," she replied. "I mean, if it's possible. I know my schedule is already weird—"

"It's not the schedule I'm worried about. There's room to rearrange the classes without double-booking them. It's you. I remember how much you overworked yourself in your first year."

"Well, it was mostly reading—" Hermione corrected. "I understand what you're saying, ma'am, but I'm going to have to increase my workload anyway, and all of the elective classes sound really interesting."

"Do they? I'm a little surprised to hear that, even coming from you," Vector replied. "If you want my advice, I really don't think Divination and Muggle Studies are the best use of your time." Hermione's face fell a little. "I may be biased, but I'm sure you remember my opinion on Divination: that it's terribly subjective and unreliable, far inferior to arithmantic prognostication, and to the extent that it works at all, it's a gift that you either have or you don't."

"I've read that, ma'am, but then, don't you think I should see if I have the gift?"

"I'm sure that Professor Trelawney would be more than happy to evaluate you before you make a final decision. Even she will tell you there's no use taking the subject in the, frankly, probable event that you don't have it."

"Oh…" Hermione said, disappointed. "But still, it could be interesting from a theoretical standpoint, especially since divination is by far the best-documented branch of magic in muggle history."

"Is it? I wasn't aware—but that bears on my second point: simply put, I strongly doubt that there is anything Professor Burbage could possibly teach you. She's not a muggle-born herself, after all. And I would say that to any muggle-born student. The subject is valuable to those of us who grew up in the wizarding world, but for you, all it would do is waste your time telling you things you already know, and probably know better."

"I…I understand that, ma'am," Hermione replied, "but I still think it would be valuable to see the subject from a wizarding perspective. Plus, the O.W.L. certification will look good on my resume."

Vector smiled sadly. "Hermione, you can take the O.W.L. exam without taking the class. It's not often done, but you can do it. I'm sure you would do well. I'm really worried that you're going to push yourself too hard again. Remember that you'll be in your O.W.L. year for Arithmancy, too."

"I understand, Professor, and thank you, but I really want to at least try the classes first. I feel like it's only fair to give them a chance. And other people do take twelve O.W.L.s, don't they? Bill and Percy Weasley even did it while they were prefects in their fifth years."

"Yes, yes they did, but do you remember how stressed Percy Weasley was that year?" she replied. Hermione did remember. "He was even worse when the other students couldn't see. He needed far more support from the professors than he let on to do it. His brother Bill was much the same way. The only other student I've had who took twelve O.W.L.s was Barty Crouch, Jr.—he didn't have as much trouble, but he turned out to be a sociopath, so it's probably not a fair comparison. I don't think you need to go through all that."

"I…I appreciate your concern…" Hermione said, her eyes starting to tear up.

"Hermione, what's really bothering you?"

"It's just…they were able to do it…so I should be able to, too. I've done the maths—I know it'll be really hard—I know it'll take a lot of time, but I think I can do it, and…and after what happened last year, I don't want to have to think I'm not strong enough," she whimpered. "I don't want to have to back out because I can't cut it."

"Oh, dear…" Vector laid her hands over top of the girl's. "Hermione, I like to think that after two years, I know you pretty well." The girl nodded tearfully. "I believe that you are perfectly capable—with a lot of care and support—of earning twelve outstanding O.W.L.s. You're easily intelligent and dedicated enough to do it." Hermione suppressed a sniffle and started to smile a little. "However…I do not think you would be happy doing that."

Hermione's mouth dropped open a little.

"I think that if you go for twelve O.W.L.s, you would be subjecting yourself to three very difficult and painful years for something that is of basically no value to you. As I said, you can get the Muggle Studies grade without taking the class, and in any job you're likely to go into, the Divination cert. isn't worth the parchment it's printed on. Now, if Professor Trelawney says you have the gift, by all means, go for it. But otherwise—no, you wouldn't have the even dozen, but your Arithmancy scores will more than make up for that."

"But I—"

"I know you don't want to back out," Vector said gently, "but it's not a matter of you not being strong enough. It's a matter of having your priorities in order. I can see how much you live and breathe arithmancy. It's too big a part of who you are—" She paused and seemed to struggle to find the right words. "I've seen you when you're having a hard time. On some days, when you're at the end of your rope, it's only the thing that makes it worth it to get up in the morning—am I right?"

Hermione paled as that hit a little too close to home. Even after everything she said, it still surprised her sometimes how well her professor knew her, but the truth was she'd had more than her share of days like that. She nodded shakily.

"I thought so. That's just the way your mind works. I suspect that if you tried to take Divination and Muggle Studies next year, you'd say they were both completely wasting your time by the end of the first week, and deep down, I think you know that, too, or we wouldn't be having this conversation. And there's nothing wrong with that. Other people have a passion for those subjects, and they're welcome to it, but for Hermione Jean Granger, they're a waste of time that could be better spent on something else, be it Arithmancy or Runes or just having fun with your friends. I hope you can see that."

Hermione was still blinking back tears, but she found she did understand. She remembered what she had said to Ron: Yes, that's my thing, but it doesn't have to be everybody's. It worked both ways. And try as she might, she couldn't deny a single thing her teacher had said. As interesting as the classes sounded, she could do the maths, and she couldn't see any practical value to them—certainly nothing worth the anguish of trying to handle that kind of workload. It didn't take a brilliant arithmancer to figure that out.

"You…You're right, Professor," she finally admitted through her tears. "I…It's not worth it…It's not worth it. I'll be better off with just three electives…Th-thank you…Thank you for talking some sense into me. I knew how awful it would be trying to overload my schedule like that, but it's so hard for me to back down from a challenge."

"I know, Hermione, and I'm glad you were willing to listen. It would hurt to see you like that again. I do hope you will still come to me if you're having trouble."

"Yes, of course, ma'am."

Even after that conversation, Hermione decided it would only be responsible to climb up to the North Tower and ask Professor Trelawney for an evaluation before writing off her subject entirely. Her response was a little disappointing, but not unexpected: "I'm sorry my dear, but I'm afraid I sense very little aura around you. Very little receptivity to the resonances of the future."

For that matter, Hermione wasn't convinced Trelawney had the gift, either, what with her nonsense about hiding in blue light or whatever it was she was trying to say, so there was really no point.

By May, exams were fast approaching, as were a rash of Quidditch matches, as the schedule had been back-loaded in response to the attacks last fall. Hermione drew up her revision schedules, Harry was spending his time at his many extra Quidditch practises, and Professor Sprout said the people who had been petrified would be cured in a few more weeks. In sum, Hermione was really thinking things were back to normal, but the night before the Gryffindor-Hufflepuff match, life once again bowled her a googly, when Harry and Ron ran down the stairs to meet her in the Common Room, looking frantic.

"What's wrong?" Hermione said when she spotted them.

"Someone stole Tom Riddle's diary!" Harry said.

"What?"

"Tore apart the whole dorm to find it," Ron confirmed.

"But…why? We don't even know if what it said was true? And besides, only a Gryffindor could have stolen it. They'd need the password to the Tower."

"Yeah, we know," said Harry.

"Well, what d'you think it means?" Hermione said nervously.

"I wish I knew."