Year Six

The room fell into a subdued silence, the weight of the discovery hanging heavy in the air. The others exchanged concerned glances, understanding the pain Neville must be feeling.

Harry, sensing the need to offer support, made a decision. "I'm going after Neville," he announced, determination in his voice. "I'll make sure he's okay."

Hermione nodded; her gaze filled with concern. "I think that's a good idea, Harry," she said softly. "Take care of him."

As Harry left, Hermione turned to the others. "I think I'm going to call it an early night," she admitted, her voice tinged with weariness. She turned to Narcissa, offering her hand. "Would you like to come with me?"

Narcissa, sensing Hermione's need for support, took her hand without hesitation. "Of course, dear," she replied, her voice filled with warmth and understanding.

Fleur, feeling a sense of solidarity with her friends, stood up from the couch. She reached out for Ginny's hand, intertwining their fingers. "Let's take some time for ourselves," she suggested, her voice filled with affection.

As Fleur and Ginny departed, Draco found himself alone with Luna. Draco turned to Luna, a mischievous glimmer in his eyes. "Seems like everyone has paired off for the evening," he remarked, his voice laced with charm. "Any interest, Luna?"

Luna met his gaze, her expression serene. "I'm sorry, Draco," she replied, her voice gentle yet decisive. "I've already met my Soulmate." She paused, her eyes sparkling with hidden knowledge. "And Blaise would be less than happy if we hooked up."

Draco's eyebrows furrowed in confusion. "What the hell does Blaise have to do with anything?" he muttered, feeling a mix of curiosity and frustration.

Luna simply offered him a mysterious smile. "Don't worry, Draco," she said cryptically. "You'll see soon enough." With those enigmatic words, she left him alone in the lab, his mind spinning with unanswered questions.

He shook his head, vowing to unravel the mystery later. "I hope in the original timeline I have more game," he mused, chuckling softly as he left the lab.

###

The morning arrived, and the group gathered once again in the lab to delve into the memories of their sixth year at Hogwarts. Neville, looking visibly tired and worn, took a seat close to Harry on the couch, seeking comfort in his presence.

Hermione, noticing Neville's weary state, approached him with concern in her eyes. "Neville, are you okay? We can take the day off if you need some time."

Neville mustered a small smile, appreciating Hermione's consideration. "I'm alright, Hermione," he replied, his voice filled with determination. "But how are you holding up?"

Hermione sighed, her expression tinged with a mix of emotions. "I'm fine for now," she admitted, her voice carrying a hint of melancholy. "I know things might not be the same once we revert the timeline, assuming we can, but at least for now, I don't have the memories of growing up without our Grandmother."

Neville nodded, understanding the weight of Hermione's words. He took a deep breath, summoning his Gryffindor courage. "I'm ready to continue," he stated, his voice resolute. "Let's see what this year holds."

Hermione nodded, appreciating Neville's resilience. She pressed play on the memories.

###

June 29th 1996

Hermione lay still in the hospital bed, her chest rising and falling rhythmically with each shallow breath. The spell Doholov had cast at her had taken its toll, leaving her unconscious and vulnerable. Neville, her brother, paced anxiously beside her, his eyes red and swollen from the tears he had shed in the past two weeks.

Harry stood nearby, his brows furrowed with concern, his emerald eyes brimming with unshed tears. He wanted nothing more than for Hermione to wake up, to see her brilliant mind and warm smile lighting up the room once again. Draco sat in another seat, his usually composed expression replaced by an unmistakable blend of anxiety and hope, his fingers tightly interlaced.

The tension in the room was palpable, a heavy cloud of uncertainty hanging over them all. And then, finally, Harry broke the silence. "Guys," he said, his voice trembling slightly, "there's something I need to tell you." He took a deep breath, gathering his thoughts, before continuing. "Dumbledore... he told me about the prophecy. And about Voldemort and me, how there is a connection between us. It was how he manipulated me into thinking that Sirius was in the Department of Mysteries."

Neville's eyes widened, a mix of surprise and curiosity filling them. Draco leaned forward, his gaze fixed intently on Harry. "What did he say?" Neville asked, his voice barely above a whisper.

Harry swallowed hard, his voice steady but tinged with sadness. "He said that I'm the only one who can defeat Voldemort. That it's my destiny."

Silence settled over them once more as the weight of Dumbledore's revelation sank in. But then, a soft voice pierced through the hushed atmosphere. "If Dumbledore had just told you about it before," Hermione's voice emerged, weak but determined, "the whole trip to the Department of Mysteries could've been avoided."

The boys turned to Hermione, their eyes widening in astonishment. She had woken up without them noticing, and her words hung heavily in the air. It took a moment for Harry to register her statement, but when he did, anger flashed across his face. "She's right," he said, his voice filled with frustration. "If we had known... Hermione wouldn't have been injured, and her grandmother would still be alive."

His words hung in the air, heavy with regret. It took a moment for him to realize the gravity of his mistake, but when he did, his expression turned to one of horror. "Oh no," he whispered, his voice laced with remorse.

Hermione's eyes widened, her hand trembling as she clutched the sheets. "She's dead?" she gasped, her voice barely a whisper. Turning to Neville, her voice grew desperate. "Neville, is it true?" she asked, her voice quivering with grief.

Neville's eyes welled up with tears, his voice choked with sorrow as he nodded. Without hesitation, he threw himself onto the bed, wrapping his arms tightly around his sister, their tears mingling as they clung to each other in shared mourning.

###

June 29th 1996

At Grimmauld Place, a somber meeting took place, bringing together a group of individuals whose lives had become entangled in the unfolding events of the wizarding world. Dumbledore, Snape, Narcissa, Sirius, McGonagall, and Bellatrix gathered in the dimly lit room, their expressions marked by concern and determination.

Sirius, his voice heavy with worry, broke the silence. "What's going to happen with Hermione and Neville now that Augusta is gone and their parents are incapacitated?" he asked, his eyes searching the faces of those present.

McGonagall, her voice filled with warmth and compassion, spoke up. "Bella and I have been talking," she said, her eyes meeting Bellatrix's for a moment before turning back to Sirius. "We would like to take them in. I already think of Hermione like the daughter I never had, and Neville... well, we both adore him."

Bellatrix nodded in agreement, her usually stern expression softening. "It wouldn't be safe for either of them if they were sent to an orphanage or if the Ministry assigned someone to look after them," she added, her voice tinged with concern. "The vultures would be circling, trying to gain control of the vast Longbottom estate."

Dumbledore, his eyes twinkling with wisdom, interjected. "Bellatrix is right," he said, his voice measured. "It's imperative that we protect them. However, both of you will be instrumental in tracking down Slughorn, a task of utmost importance for the war."

Narcissa, her voice soft but determined, couldn't help but voice her protective sentiments. "But why are we tracking him down?" she asked, her brows furrowing. "He was my mentor in potions, and I feel a duty to protect the man who taught me so much."

Dumbledore's response was cryptic, his eyes holding a depth of knowledge that he chose not to share. "I'm afraid I can't disclose more, other than to say it is necessary for the war effort, Narcissa," he replied, his tone firm. The others exchanged wary glances, suspicion flickering in their eyes.

Sirius, ever the protector, interjected with a suggestion. "There's enough space here at Grimmauld Place," he offered, his eyes fixed on Dumbledore. "Hermione is almost of age, and once she assumes custody of Neville, their estate will be safe from those who seek to exploit it."

Reluctantly, McGonagall and Bellatrix nodded in agreement, though a flicker of disappointment crossed their expressions. McGonagall sighed softly. "Very well," she conceded, her voice filled with a mix of resignation and hope. "We will ensure their safety here, until the time comes."

###

July 13 1996

The morning sun filtered through the windows of Grimmauld Place, casting a warm glow over the breakfast table where Harry, Draco, Sirius, Neville, Hermione, and Narcissa gathered. Excitement buzzed in the air as they anxiously awaited the arrival of their OWL results.

Hermione's hands trembled with anticipation as she tore open the envelope that held her grades. But before she could even catch a glimpse of the parchment, Draco, ever mischievous, snatched it from her grasp. "Let's see what the brilliant Hermione has achieved," he teased, a playful glint in his eyes. Draco dramatically scanned the results. "And to the surprise of absolutely no one, our beloved Hermione has achieved the highest possible grades in all her subjects - Outstanding."

Hermione rolled her eyes, her lips quirking into a smile. Swiftly, she snatched the letter back from Draco's grasp. "Thank you, Captain Obvious," she retorted, her voice filled with amusement. "As if there was ever any doubt."

Neville, who had been quietly observing the exchange, couldn't contain his excitement any longer. "I did much better than I expected!" he exclaimed, a bright smile spreading across his face. "I got Outstanding in Herbology, Charms, and Care of Magical Creatures! The rest were Exceeds Expectations."

Harry and Draco exchanged glances before eagerly delving into their own results. Harry scanned the list, a mixture of satisfaction and disappointment crossing his face. "Outstanding in Defense Against the Dark Arts, Exceeds Expectations in Care of Magical Creatures, Charms, Herbology, Potions, and Transfiguration," he read aloud, a hint of pride in his voice. "Acceptable in Astronomy, Poor in Divination, and Dreadful in History of Magic."

Draco nodded, finding similarities in his own marks. "Mine are quite similar to Harry's," he admitted. "The differences being, I got Outstanding in Potions, Acceptable in History of Magic, and Exceeds Expectations in Arithmancy, since I took that instead of Divination."

Hermione couldn't help but tease him. "An Outstanding in Potions. I suppose you really are Narcissa's child." she said, a playful lilt in her voice.

Sirius, who had been listening attentively, beamed with pride. "Congratulations, my young wizards and witch!" he exclaimed, clapping his hands together. "I think we need to host a celebration tonight to honor all these marvelous results."

The celebratory atmosphere turned tense as another owl swooped in through the open window, bearing a formal letter. Sirius reached out to take the letter, his excitement fading into concern as he read its contents. "Neville, Hermione," he began, his voice filled with alarm, "there will be a hearing tomorrow regarding the custody of you both. Dolores Umbridge is seeking custody."

Anger flickered across the faces of those gathered around the table. Hermione's voice cut through the air, her tone laced with determination. "Umbridge just wants the Longbottom estate," she said, her eyes narrowing with suspicion. "And likely revenge. If she gains custody, there will be no oversight on her actions. Who knows what she would do to us, especially to me."

Draco interjected, his voice tinged with regret. "It's too bad you're not seventeen yet, Hermione," he said, a thoughtful expression on his face. "If you were, you could claim custody of Neville and protect the estate."

Hermione's eyes sparkled with a sudden realization. "That gives me an idea," she declared, a flicker of mischief in her gaze. Without another word, she bolted from the room, leaving a confused Sirius and Narcissa in her wake.

Harry, unfazed by Hermione's impulsive actions, leaned back in his chair and offered a lighthearted comment. "Don't worry," he said, a playful smile forming on his lips. "Hermione does this kind of thing all the time. I'm sure she has a plan brewing."

Neville chuckled, the tension in the room momentarily alleviated by Harry's words. "Indeed," he said, his voice filled with amusement. "We've learned to trust in Hermione's resourcefulness. She always finds a way to turn the tables in our favor."

###

July 14th 1996

The atmosphere in the small courtroom used for Custody Trials at the Ministry of Magic was thick with tension. Hermione and Neville sat side by side at a table, their expressions a mix of determination and nervousness. On the opposing side of the courtroom at a different table, Dolores Umbridge sat with a wicked smirk, her eyes flickering to Hermione, relishing the prospect of victory.

The doors swung open, and the judge, a stern-looking wizard with a wispy beard, entered the room, signaling the start of the Custody Trial. He took his seat, and his gaze settled upon Umbridge. "The petitioner may state their case," he commanded, his voice firm.

Umbridge rose to her feet, her voice dripping with false sweetness. She began to weave a tale, claiming her closeness to Augusta Longbottom, producing a supposed will where the late Augusta had expressed her desire for Umbridge to care for her precious grandchildren.

Nervousness crept into Hermione's expression as she listened, fearing that the judge would be swayed by Umbridge's deceit. However, just as the judge seemed on the verge of agreement, the courtroom doors burst open, and Auror Tonks stumbled in, her hair disheveled and her robes slightly askew.

The judge's stern gaze shifted towards Tonks. "Auror Tonks, what is the meaning of this interruption?" he demanded.

Tonks straightened herself, catching her breath. "Apologies, Your Honor," she replied, her voice filled with urgency. "I have come across some relevant information regarding the Custody of Hermione and Neville Longbottom. I was tasked by the Longbottoms themselves to investigate the matter."

Curiosity mingled with impatience in the judge's eyes. "Present your findings," he commanded.

Tonks handed a file to Hermione and another to the judge. Hermione opened the file, her eyes widening in triumph as her instinct was confirmed. The file revealed a crucial detail: Hermione's age was stated as 17 and 2 months, indicating that she had turned 17 earlier than expected, thanks to her use of a Time-Turner.

Hermione stood up, her voice steady and respectful. "Your Honor," she addressed the judge, "according to the 1568 Family Custody Law, section 143.23B, subsection 72.4.1, if an of-age sibling is alive and capable of assuming custody of any younger sibling and associated estate, it supersedes any will that designates custody to a non-immediate family member. Therefore, both the custody of Neville Longbottom and the Longbottom Estate rightfully belong to me."

The judge peered at the file, scrutinizing the information presented. With a nod, he agreed, affirming Hermione's claim. "Ms. Longbottom is correct," he announced. "Custody shall be granted to her, and control of the Longbottom Estate shall be rightfully hers, until such time Mr. Longbottom reaches the age of majority and assumes control of his half."

Umbridge's face twisted with fury as she realized her plot had been thwarted. She glared at Hermione, promising revenge, before storming out of the courtroom in a rage.

###

As the memory came to an end, Harry turned to Hermione with a curious expression. "Did you know that you were older in this timeline?" he asked, his voice filled with intrigue.

Hermione nodded, her gaze thoughtful. "Yes," she replied, her tone tinged with a hint of secrecy. "It was suggested by McGonagall and Dumbledore that I keep it to myself. They wanted to avoid people finding out about my extensive time-turner use. Though in this timeline it is closer to 9 months instead of 2 months."

###

August 28th 1996

In the bustling shop of Weasley's Wizard Wheezes, Harry, Neville, Draco, Hermione, and Ginny found themselves surrounded by a myriad of cleverly crafted magical products. They marveled at the ingenuity of Fred and George, their laughter mingling with the excited chatter of other customers.

Hermione turned to Ginny, a smile playing on her lips. "Ginny, how was your summer?" she asked, genuinely interested.

Ginny returned the smile, her eyes shining with amusement. "It was good, except for one thing," she replied, her voice tinged with exasperation. "Ron was as intolerable as ever."

"What did he do this time?" Hermione asked, raising an eyebrow.

Ginny's expression turned grim. "Well, he practically failed his O.W.L.s," she explained. "And he was devastated when he found out that he couldn't take Professor Black's Defense Against the Dark Arts course. His defense grade wasn't high enough. Ron actually had the audacity to write Professor Black, asking for an exception. But all he got in return was a scathing letter basically saying that she doesn't allow idiots into her class."

While Hermione was engrossed in conversation with Ginny, Harry and Neville noticed Ron sneaking out of the shop. A mischievous glint sparked in their eyes as they exchanged a silent understanding. They discreetly slipped on the Invisibility Cloak and followed Ron's trail.

Ron led them down the winding streets until he met up with Nott. Neville and Harry observed from the shadows as Ron and Nott disappeared into the depths of Knockturn Alley.

Their curiosity piqued, they trailed behind, careful not to bump into anyone. Their journey led them to the mysterious shop of Borgin and Burkes. Peering through the window, they watched as Nott discreetly showed something up his sleeve to Borgin, the shop owner.

The details remained obscured, and Harry leaned in, his voice barely a whisper. "Neville, I think Nott must have been given the Dark Mark," he murmured, his eyes widening with realization.

###

September 1st 1996

Inside one of the train compartments en route to Hogwarts, Hermione, Draco, Ginny, Harry, and Neville joined a mixed group of other students at a table set up in the new potion professor's cabin.

Slughorn, with his rotund figure and genial smile, went around the table, engaging each student in conversation. He turned to Draco, a glint of recognition in his eyes. "Ah, Mr. Black," he began, a nostalgic tone in his voice. "Your mother, she was my most promising apprentice. How is she doing? Do you possess her talent?"

Draco, his demeanor composed, replied respectfully. "She is doing well, Professor," he said, a note of pride lacing his words. "In fact, she has become the Head Potion Mistress at St. Mungo's. As for possessing her talent, I would like to think I have inherited some of it, but I still have a long way to go to be even half as accomplished as she."

Slughorn, satisfied with Draco's response, continued his journey around the table. After speaking with McLaggen about his Uncle Tiberius, the professor's attention turned to Hermione and Neville. His expression turned solemn as he offered his condolences for the loss of their grandmother.

"Please accept my heartfelt condolences for the passing of your grandmother," Slughorn said, his voice filled with empathy. "She was a remarkable woman, possessing immense talent and skill."

Hermione, her attention divided, noticed McLaggen's leering gaze and his hand on her knee. With a swift motion, she drove her fork into his hand, causing him to retract it in surprise. "Oh, I'm terribly sorry, my hand slipped." she said, her voice dripping with sarcasm as she looked at McLaggen.

Slughorn's eyes fixed on Hermione, his curiosity piqued. "I must say, Miss Longbottom," he inquired, "how did she pass? It is quite the mystery to the wizarding world."

Hermione managed to refocus as Slughorn's words registered. In response to his inquiry she quickly replied, "I'm afraid that information is classified by the Ministry."

Slughorn's disappointment was evident, but he pressed on, moving along the table to reach Harry and discover more about the famous Boy Who Lived.

###

September 1st 1996

As the opening feast commenced at Hogwarts, Harry Potter found himself sitting down at the Gryffindor table, his shirt stained with blood. Whispers and curious glances followed him as he took his seat, a somber expression etched upon his face.

At the Slytherin table, Nott and Ron shared a laugh, their voices laced with mockery. They mimicked the impact of a blow to the face, relishing in their cruel jest. Hermione, concerned and determined to find out what had transpired, approached Harry, her brows furrowed with worry. "Harry, what happened?" she asked, her voice filled with genuine concern.

Harry, his eyes weary, waved her off gently. "I'll explain later, Hermione," he replied, his voice low and tinged with exhaustion. "Right now, let's focus on the feast." He attempted a smile, though the shadows of his recent encounter still lingered in his gaze.

Neville, sitting beside Harry, noticed his friend's distress. Offering support, he placed a comforting hand on Harry's shoulder, a gesture of understanding and solidarity. Harry's cheeks tinged with a faint blush, appreciating Neville's silent support.

The room fell into a hushed silence as Dumbledore stood to address the students. His voice carried through the Great Hall, capturing the attention of all. "Before we commence this year," he began, "I have some changes to announce regarding our staffing."

A ripple of curiosity spread through the students, their eyes fixed on the Headmaster. Dumbledore continued, his gaze sweeping across the room. "Professor Slughorn will be taking over the position of Potions professor," he announced, "Furthermore, Professor Snape will be teaching Magical Defense for years one through three, NEWT level Magical Defense, as well as continuing his instruction in Alchemy. And," Dumbledore's eyes twinkled as he paused for effect, "Professor Black will be teaching Magical Defense for fourth and fifth-year students, while also continuing her role as Defense Against the Dark Arts professor."

###

September 2nd 1996

At the bustling breakfast table on the first day of classes, Professor McGonagall sat with a stack of class schedules in front of her. One by one, she distributed the timetables to her Gryffindor students. Harry, Neville, Hermione, Draco, and Ginny eagerly received their schedules, anticipation dancing in their eyes.

Harry glanced at Hermione's schedule and raised an eyebrow, unable to hide his surprise. "Hermione, are you going to be using a Time-Turner?" he asked, his voice filled with curiosity. His eyes scanned the list of NEWT courses she was taking—Ancient Runes, Arithmancy, Defense Against the Dark Arts, Transfiguration, Conjuration, Alchemy, Muggle Science and Technology, Charms, Enchanting, and Potions.

Hermione scoffed, a knowing smile playing on her lips. "No, Harry, it's not necessary," she replied confidently. "It is possible to handle all of these courses, though I did have to drop Care of Magical Creatures and Muggle Studies. I don't even have a free period anymore."

Draco, his interest piqued, interjected. "Why Muggle Science and Technology, Hermione?" he asked, his tone tinged with genuine curiosity.

Hermione's eyes lit up with passion as she began to explain her ambitious goals. "I believe that by incorporating both muggle and magical techniques, I may be able to reverse the effects of what happened to Neville and my parents," she said earnestly. "I want to be an inventor, to find solutions to problems using a blend of muggle and magical knowledge. Learning Muggle Engineering will be crucial in developing my skills and understanding."

###

September 2nd 1996

In the Potions classroom, Slughorn paced back and forth, his eyes gleaming with anticipation. As the students settled into their seats, he began the lesson by presenting a variety of potions for identification. Hermione's hand shot up eagerly, and she flawlessly identified each one.

Slughorn's eyes crinkled with delight, his voice filled with praise. "Well done, Miss Longbottom," he commended, his smile warm. "You truly are a font of knowledge. Now, I assume you identified the Amortentia by its unique smell? Are you willing to share with the class what it was you smelled?"

Hermione's cheeks flushed slightly as she began listing the scents associated with the potion. "Fresh mowed grass, new parchment..." Her voice trailed off as her gaze shifted towards Draco, realization dawning upon her. The final scent she was about to mention was that of Draco's mother.

Slughorn, unaware of Hermione's momentary distraction, praised her once again for her willingness to answer the question. He explained the task for the day, declaring that the student who brewed the best potion would receive a vial of Felix Felicis.

Hermione, Draco, Neville, and Harry found themselves grouped together at the same bench. Harry, using an old, beaten-up textbook until he could acquire a new one, diligently followed the instructions. When they reached the part about chopping the sophorus bean, Draco suggested they squash it with the knife blade instead of cutting it, citing his mother's advice for better results.

Trusting Draco's judgment based on his mother's expertise, they followed his instruction, to superior results. As Harry continued following the written instructions, he noticed the small writing in the book that suggested stirring the potion counter-clockwise every seventh time. When Hermione inquired about his method, Harry explained and mentioned that his book had suggested it.

Hermione couldn't help but caution him. "You shouldn't blindly trust written instructions without verification," she advised, her voice filled with concern for her friend's reliance on the book.

Harry, however, brushed off her words, confident in the results he was achieving. His potion turned out to be superior, earning him the coveted vial of Felix Felicis.

As they left the Potions classroom, Harry mentioned the unique technique he had found in the book. He wondered aloud if it could be the handiwork of Draco's mother. Intrigued, he showed the text to the group, Hermione joining in the examination. In an instant, she recognized the distinctive handwriting.

She turned to Harry and remarked, "It's Snape's. You're quite special for not recognizing it, considering how much Snape used to write criticisms on your homework. Though the information was coming from Snape, it was likely safe to follow the potion instructions, but I would remain wary of anything else written within it."

###

As the memory came to an end, Narcissa spoke up. "You know, I actually taught Snape that extra stirring trick," she remarked, a nostalgic smile tugging at her lips.

Hermione's brows furrowed as she was lost in thought, Why hadn't she recognized the handwriting in the current timeline? It is so obvious.

###

September 4th 1996

Ginny and Draco walked down the corridor after dinner, engrossed in conversation about upcoming Quidditch season, when they stumbled upon a distressing scene. Ron had trapped an obviously unwilling Pansy Parkinson against the wall, attempting to force a kiss upon her.

Without hesitation, Ginny and Draco rushed forward, their instincts for justice propelling them into action. Draco firmly pulled Ron away from Pansy, while Ginny's gaze quickly assessed the damage. Her eyes narrowed as she noticed a tear in Pansy's uniform and bruising on her arms from Ron's grip.

Anger surged within Ginny as she witnessed the mistreatment. She wasted no time, casting a Bat-Bogey Hex at Ron, followed by a stunning spell. Ron fell to the ground, immobilized.

Ginny turned her attention to Pansy, who looked stunned and grateful. Pansy couldn't believe that Ginny had attacked her own brother to come to her rescue. Her voice trembled as she spoke, "I... I can't believe you did that for me."

Ginny's voice was filled with determination as she replied, "Of course no one should be forced to do something they don't want. Besides, Ron is a prat who deserves what he gets."

A small smirk played on Pansy's lips as she looked at Ginny. "My hero," she said, causing Ginny's cheeks to flush with a faint blush.

Draco, ever the calm and composed one, interjected, "Where were you headed, Pansy? We'll make sure you get there safely."

Pansy straightened herself, regaining some of her composure. "I was actually heading to the library to meet up with Daphne and Blaise," she replied, her voice steady.

Draco smiled warmly. "That's where we were headed too. If you don't mind, maybe we could all go together," he suggested, his eyes meeting Ginny's for a brief moment.

Pansy's smirk grew wider as she responded, "Of course. This seems like a great start to a potential friendship." Her gaze remained fixed on Ginny, her eyes holding a glimmer of admiration and intrigue.

###

September 14th 1996

Hermione and Neville found themselves settled in the stands, their eyes fixated on the Quidditch pitch. The tryouts for the Gryffindor team were about to begin, and they were there to support their friends Ginny, Harry, and Draco.

Just as they were getting comfortable, Pansy and Blaise approached them, "Would you mind our joining you? We'd like to see how Draco and Ginny do." Pansy said. Hermione couldn't help but feel a tinge of suspicion, but she recalled the recent events involving Ginny, Draco, and Pansy, and how they were slowly forging an unexpected friendship. After a moment of contemplation, she nodded and gestured for them to take a seat.

"Thanks," Blaise murmured.

As the Chaser tryouts kicked off, Pansy's enthusiasm couldn't be contained. "Go Ginny!" She cheered loudly, her voice filled with genuine excitement. The sound of Pansy's voice caused Ginny to blush, but it also fueled her determination, and ultimately she performed exceptionally well.

Later during the keeper tryouts, Neville, with his observant nature, noticed Blaise's eyes were fixated on Draco, his gaze lingering a little longer than necessary. He couldn't resist teasing the young man a bit, giving Blaise a smirk and playful wink. Blaise's cheeks turned a shade of pink, and he quickly averted his eyes, realizing that his interest in Draco had been noticed.

Hermione, always the resourceful one, decided to take matters into her own hands when it was McLaggen's turn to try out as a Keeper. Silently, she cast a Confundus Charm on McLaggen, ensuring that Draco's performance would shine through. She had no desire to see the inflated ego of the creepy and arrogant McLaggen grow any larger.

Blaise, catching Hermione's discrete actions, leaned in with an amused smile "If it weren't for your status as a blood traitor," he remarked, a sly grin forming on his face, "you would have made a good Slytherin. Not that we care about such things" He gestured towards himself and Pansy, emphasizing that they didn't care about such distinctions.

###

Draco looked pensive for a second. "You know, Hermione, I never thought about it, but I think Blaise is right," he said, his tone thoughtful.

Hermione's eyes narrowed, and she shot Draco a glare. "You're only saying that because you're still upset about being originally sorted into Gryffindor," she retorted, her voice laced with annoyance.

Ginny chimed in, her voice carrying a hint of mischief. "No, Hermione, he's actually onto something. Just think about what you did with the DA and the cursed signup sheet. That was definitely a Slytherin move," she pointed out, a mischievous grin playing on her lips.

Hermione's glare shifted to Ginny. "Et tu, Brute?" she said, her voice tinged with a sense of betrayal.

Before Hermione could say anything more, Narcissa interjected, her voice calm and reassuring. "Darling, don't worry. I would still love you even if you were a Hufflepuff," she said, her eyes filled with warmth and affection.

Hermione huffed, feeling a mixture of frustration and affection toward the people around her. She regained her composure and pressed play on the next memory.

###

October 12th, 1996

In the cozy ambiance of The Three Broomsticks, Harry, Hermione, Draco, Neville, and Ginny found themselves joined by Pansy, Blaise, and Daphne during the first Hogsmeade visit of the year. The air was filled with chatter and laughter as the group settled into their seats.

As conversations buzzed around the table, Harry and Neville were engrossed in their own discussion, while Ginny and Pansy were deeply engaged in their own lively conversation. Draco and Blaise, too, had found common ground, their voices blending together seamlessly. Left in a somewhat humorous predicament, Hermione and Daphne seemed to be the "fifth wheels," or rather, the "seventh and eighth wheels."

Hermione broke the ice, a mischievous glint in her eyes. She turned to Daphne and chuckled, "I suppose we're the extra wheels here, aren't we?"

Daphne's laughter mingled with Hermione's, as she replied, "Seems like it. So, Hermione, what did you think of the most recent Arithmancy class?" she asked, a genuine curiosity in her voice.

Hermione's eyes sparkled with excitement as she delved into a passionate discussion about different magical theories and their applications. The two of them lost themselves in their conversation, their words flowing seamlessly and their minds alight with intellectual curiosity.

Their conversation was interrupted when Ron Weasley, accompanied by Crabbe and Goyle, stormed into the pub. He confronted Daphne, Pansy, and Blaise, accusing them of being blood traitors for associating with the enemy.

Pansy, her voice laced with amusement, retorted, "We just wanted some intellectual conversation, considering the complete lack of intelligent thought in our fellow Slytherins." Her words dripped with sarcasm, emphasizing the disparity between their current company and those Ron considered his allies.

Ron's anger escalated, and he reached for his wand. Just as tension hung heavy in the air, Rosmerta, the proprietor of The Three Broomsticks, swiftly intervened. She appeared beside Ron and his cronies, casting a stern gaze upon them, and promptly ejected them from the establishment.

Moments later, Harry noticed Katie Bell acting strangely while engaged in a heated argument with her friend Leanne. Concern etched on his face, he leaned towards the others and whispered his observations. The Gryffindors agreed that something was off, and as one cohesive unit, the group rose from their seats, determined to follow and figure out what was going on.

###

October 14th 1996

In the secluded confines of the Room of Requirement, Harry, Neville, and Hermione gathered.. Harry had just finished recounting his latest meeting with Dumbledore, relaying the valuable information he had obtained.

Hermione furrowed her brow, her voice filled with uncertainty. "I'm still not entirely sure about trusting Dumbledore," she confessed, her thoughts clouded by lingering doubts. "But this information could be crucial in our ultimate fight against Voldemort. As Sun Tzu said, 'Know thyself, know thy enemy. A thousand battles, a thousand victories.'"

Neville, looking slightly guilty, chimed in. "I shouldn't have encouraged you to visit that muggle bookstore," he admitted.

Harry rolled his eyes at his best friends' remarks. Instead he steered the conversation toward a different topic, one that had been gnawing at him for some time. Harry interjected, his voice filled with determination. "I am convinced that Nott has the Dark Mark and is somehow involved in the attack on Katie."

Hermione raised an eyebrow, her curiosity piqued. "But we didn't even see Nott there," she pointed out, her voice laced with skepticism. "He wasn't with his usual group of friends. When Ron confronted us, it was just him and his lackeys, Twiddledumb and Twiddledumber."

Harry's resolve remained unshaken as he countered Hermione's argument. "That's precisely why it seems suspicious," he explained, his voice gaining conviction. "Nott has always been lurking in the shadows, subtly involved in darker activities. I think it's time we dig deeper and uncover the truth behind his involvement."

###

Nov 16th 1996

Just as Hermione was about to step inside, she noticed Daphne standing alone outside the Gryffindor common room. ""Why aren't you inside enjoying the party?" Hermione asked, curiosity evident in her voice. She knew that Daphne, along with Blaise and Pansy, had been invited to join the festivities in the event of a Gryffindor victory.

Daphne shifted uncomfortably, her cheeks tinted with a blush. "Well, Harry and Neville are deeply engrossed in a conversation with each other, Ginny and Pansy are... well, snogging the heck out of each other, and the same goes for Draco and Blaise," she explained with a slight sheepish smile. ""Well, since everyone seems preoccupied at the moment, I thought I'd wait for you to show up."

Hermione's eyes widened in surprise, her mind quickly processing the information. A warm smile spread across her face as she realized Daphne's intent. "I see," she responded, her voice filled with understanding.

A moment of silence hung between them before Daphne mustered up her courage. Blushing, she asked softly, "Um, Hermione... would you maybe like to go on a walk instead?"

Hermione's heart skipped a beat at the suggestion, and a surge of excitement washed over her. "I would like that very much," she replied, her voice filled with anticipation.

In that moment, without hesitation, Hermione leaned in and kissed Daphne, their lips meeting in a gentle yet electric connection. The world around them seemed to fade away, and all that mattered was the warmth and tenderness they shared.

As they pulled apart, breathless and smiling, Hermione couldn't help but ask playfully, "Maybe we could do some more of that during our walk?"

Daphne's eyes lit up with excitement as she nodded eagerly. "Absolutely," she replied, her voice filled with enthusiasm.

###

As the memory wound down, Ginny couldn't help but burst into laughter. She turned to Hermione with a mischievous grin. "Hermione, you definitely have a type, gorgeous blondes," she teased, her amusement evident in her voice.

Narcissa's expression grew slightly disgruntled as another ex of Hermione's was revealed in the memory. She crossed her arms and gave Hermione a pointed look, though her disapproval was laced with a hint of amusement.

Hermione chose not to respond to Ginny's teasing or acknowledge Narcissa's disapproval. She simply rolled her eyes playfully and focused on the next memory.

###

December 20th 1996

Hermione found herself cornered under the mistletoe, feeling trapped by Cormac McLaggen. She attempted to pull away from him, desperately seeking an escape from the uncomfortable situation.

Just as Hermione was beginning to feel overwhelmed, Daphne appeared, her voice firm and resolute. "Unhand my date, McLaggen," she commanded, her gaze unwavering.

Cormac sneered, his arrogance evident. "You know you two just need a good dicking to straighten out your deviant ways," he spat, his words dripping with disdain. "I can help you both with that."

"That's more than enough, McLaggen," Bellatrix's voice reverberated with authority, catching everyone off guard. Her arrival was unexpected, yet her fierce protectiveness towards those she held dear was undeniable. Without a moment's hesitation, Bellatrix swiftly wielded her transfiguration skills, transforming Cormac into a hapless pig. Gasps of astonishment filled the room, echoing through the air.

McGonagall, a witness to the spectacle, couldn't help but release a resigned sigh. Approaching Bellatrix, she reminded her with a stern tone, "Darling, it is against the rules to employ transfiguration as a means of student discipline, no matter how boorish their behavior may be."

"You mean 'boar'-ish behavior?" Bellatrix asked with a mischievous grin.

Mcgonagall just glared. "Bella…"

"Fine" Bellatrix shrugged nonchalantly, undoing the transfiguration with a heavy sigh. "You never let me have any fun."

Disregarding Bellatrix's complaint, McGonagall redirected her attention to the young man, promptly guiding him out of the party. As they walked, she explained the detention he would receive for his inappropriate conduct, ensuring that the consequences would match his actions.

###

February 14th 1997

In the Potions classroom, Slughorn announced the brewing of Amortentia in light of Valentine's Day. Hermione's eyes lit up with anticipation, eager to test her skills on a potion that was notoriously difficult. She focused intently, carefully following the instructions and ingredients.

As the potion brewed to perfection, Hermione leaned over the cauldron and inhaled the aroma. She detected the same scents as last semester. Freshly mown grass, new parchment, and a rich, floral, heady scent that evoked thoughts of Narcissa rather than Daphne.

A pang of guilt tugged at Hermione's conscience as she stole a glance at Daphne, seated a few benches away. Daphne's brow furrowed, suggesting that her experience with the potion might have yielded different results.

After class, Daphne approached Hermione, requesting a moment to talk. Hermione agreed, and the two of them found a quiet bench outside where they could have a private conversation.

Clearing her throat, Daphne began, her voice laced with a mix of guilt and uncertainty, "When I inhaled the Amortentia's scent, it didn't remind me of you." The confession hung in the air, the weight of it palpable.

Hermione took a deep breath, her voice infused with sincerity as she admitted, "I'm glad you said that because it didn't evoke thoughts of you for me either."

Daphne nodded, a contemplative expression crossing her face. "Maybe we're better off as friends than as a couple," she suggested, the words resonating with both truth and understanding.

Relief flooded Hermione's being as she wholeheartedly agreed. However, curiosity tugged at her, and she couldn't resist asking, "Out of curiosity, did it smell like anyone we know?"

Daphne's cheeks flushed crimson, and she let out a hearty laugh. "Well, I suppose I should confess that it smelled like Pansy," she admitted, her tone laced with amusement.

Hermione couldn't help but smile at the revelation, finding humor in the unexpected connection. "And what about you? What did you smell?" Daphne inquired, genuinely intrigued.

Hermione hesitated for a moment, her cheeks turning a light shade of pink. "Narcissa Black," she confessed.

Daphne's eyes widened briefly before she erupted into laughter. "Draco's mother? You certainly have lofty aspirations, don't you?" she teased, a playful glimmer dancing in her eyes.

###

May 20th 1997

The atmosphere inside the Gryffindor common room was electric, buzzing with excitement and jubilation. The Gryffindor Quidditch team had emerged victorious, winning the coveted Quidditch Cup. Harry stood at the center of the room, a triumphant smile on his face, as his teammates and fellow Gryffindors cheered and applauded.

In the midst of this merriment, Neville Longbottom sensed a surge of Gryffindor bravery surging through his veins. Overcoming his initial trepidation, he embarked on a courageous path through the jubilant throng, his resolve unwavering as he strode towards Harry.

Without a second thought, Neville reached out, his hand gently cupping Harry's face, and brought their lips together in a passionate kiss. Time seemed to stand still as the room erupted into a mixture of stunned silence and wild cheering.

###

June 20th 1997

Harry remained frozen in place, his eyes fixed on the chilling tableau unfolding before him. Dumbledore stood unwavering, a beacon of strength, facing off against Nott, the menacing Carrows, and the sinister presence of Greyback. A palpable sense of malevolence saturated the air, casting an ominous shadow over the scene.

Nott's eyes gleamed with an icy coldness as he leveled his wand at Dumbledore, his voice laced with malice as he uttered, "Expelliarmus." The mighty wizard's wand soared from his grasp, leaving him disarmed but undeterred.

"Nott, there's no need for this," Dumbledore implored, his words weighted with a desperate hope. "You haven't succumbed to the path of a killer just yet. Redemption is still within your grasp."

A disdainful sneer contorted Nott's face, his voice dripping with venomous scorn. "How mistaken you are, Dumbledore," he spat, his malevolence on full display. With a cruel flick of his wand, Nott unleashed the devastating curse of Sectumsempra upon Dumbledore's vulnerable form.

Dumbledore cried out in pain as the curse tore through him, lacerating his flesh. Blood stained his robes. Just as the situation seemed dire, Snape appeared in the stairwell at the top of the tower, his eyes taking in the horrifying scene. His face displayed a mixture of revulsion, horror, and grief. Dumbledore's voice, almost pleadingly, "Severus", a plea for mercy or perhaps understanding.

Snape's voice emerged cold and tinged with bitterness as he addressed Nott. "You shouldn't toy with your prey," he declared, his words dripping with contempt. Without a moment's hesitation, he raised his wand toward Dumbledore, uttering the damning words, "Avada Kedavra."

A blinding emerald flash erupted from Snape's wand, striking its mark with deadly precision. Dumbledore's life force departed from his body, leaving behind a profound void. Snape turned to depart, his face a tapestry of intricate emotions. The other Death Eaters followed suit, exiting the scene with eerie silence. However, Nott lingered, disregarding the retreat. He approached Dumbledore's lifeless body, his voice resonating with disdain. "You weren't the greatest wizard, after all," Nott proclaimed, punctuating his words by spitting upon the fallen hero's corpse.

Harry's immobilization shattered, a seething anger coursing through his veins. With his emotions fueling his actions, he swiftly cast the first spell that came to mind, "Stupefy!" The force behind his incantation propelled Nott sideways, over the parapet, hurtling down to the unforgiving ground below.

###

As the scene played out on the screen, a collective gasp filled the room. All eyes were glued to the display, shock and disbelief etched on everyone's faces.

Harry's complexion paled, and he whispered, his voice trembling with guilt, "Oh my God... I killed Nott."

Luna considered that for a moment and chimed in. "They really should've built those parapets higher," she mused. "They are definitely a safety hazard."