A/N: Happy New Year everyone. I hope all of you have the most amazing year. I appreciate each and every one of you and I love having you here inside this little world I've created. I hope every single thing you're hoping/wishing/praying for this year comes true. And I support you every step of the way. Go, fight, win, achieve, my loves. You can do this.

-0-

The party was in full swing by the time they got there and it was quite easy to find Professor Flitwick, holding court with a number of wellwishers.

"Minerva! Lovely to see you, I'm glad you could make it. And Miss Granger, too. Thank you for coming!"

"Filius, my dear friend. Many Happy Returns. I'm sorry we were late."

"That was my fault," Hermione chuckled. "Happy Birthday, Professor."

"Oh tosh, Hermione. You may call me Filius while we are out of school, I think."

"Thank you," she smiled. "I'd be honoured."

"Come in, come in. There's food, drink. It's quite informal although Pomona is fussing around, as usual." Hermione glanced at Minerva who winked, confirming Hermione's unasked question. "In fact," Filius continued. "Sam is here somewhere, you'll have to see him, Min, he's talked nonstop about you since he's been back."

"I look forward to it," she said with a genuine smile. "I haven't seen him since his wedding."

Hermione glanced around the room and saw lots of happy faces and was immediately reminded of her parents' parties every year. The thought was a little sad but she felt Minerva's hand on her back as she steered them away.

"Alright?"

"Yes, just remembering my parents," Hermione shrugged. "They used to throw some good parties."

"Would you like a drink?"

"Sure," Hermione shrugged.

"Samuel is Pomona and Filius' youngest son of five." Hermione's eyebrows shot up. "I know," Minerva chuckled. "Sam is a number of years older than you but I cared for him often as a child. He is a truly wonderful young man who got married a few years ago to an American woman, Anna. They don't come back very often."

"Good afternoon, ladies."

"Albus," Minerva smiled as she turned, handing over a glass of punch to Hermione. She took a sip and immediately took Hermione's drink back.

"No!"

"What -"

"Someone has put fire whisky in it," Minerva frowned.

"Ooh," Hermione grinned, trying to take it back.

"Hermione," Minerva scolded, putting it out of reach. "Trouble," she glared.

Dumbledore chuckled and passed Hermione a bottle of butterbeer.

"It is not my favourite, but it is unadulterated."

"Thanks. For the record, not mine either," she chuckled.

"How are your extracurricular activities going?" he asked conversationally.

"Oh," Hermione grinned. "Good. We've started duelling."

"I heard!" He exclaimed, looking sideways at Minerva. "You must be quite adept at casting, Miss Granger."

"She is extraordinary," Minerva beamed. "Though we are going to have to work on speeding up her casting."

"Min," Hermione blanched. "Um," she shrugged. "Anyway. She suggested I ask you?"

"Certainly," Dumbledore smiled. "I would be honoured. Though I think Minerva is perfectly capable?"

Minerva demurred and Albus chuckled and finished his drink.

"Alright, let's go."

"What, now?"

"Is there another time?" Dumbledore challenged. "Filius won't mind," he nudged Hermione's shoulder. "Come, I'll show you."

Hermione glanced at Minerva, who rolled her eyes and knocked back the rest of her drink with a shudder.

"There'll be no stopping him now. Off you go."

She followed Dumbledore as he bent down to whisper in Fillius' ear who looked up in shock, looking over at Hermione and then smiling widely.

"Absolutely. I will join you."

Hermione trailed after the two men down a corridor and a flight of stairs before Filius let them into a room that reminded her of a ballroom.

"Ah, we have had some good times in this room, Filius, dear boy."

"Albus," Minerva snorted.

"When you get to my age, my dear, everyone seems young."

Hermione grinned at the back and forth, wondering where she stood in all of this until Minerva saw her waiting and joined her.

"Are you gentlemen going to put on a show or shall Hermione and I start our knitting."

Both men blustered for a little but Filius removed his jacket and folded his sleeves back while Albus rolled his head around and flexed his casting arm.

"Non-lethals only, transfiguration is acceptable, apparition is forbidden?"

"I find that to be acceptable, Filius, thank you."

"Very well, at the ready?"

Hermione watched as the two men walked to either side of the room and she was pushed into a little viewing area off to the side.

"This is warded, so we are quite safe."

Hermione nodded but didn't take her eyes off the room. They saluted, bowed and before either of them stood again, they were already casting. Minerva tried to keep a steady stream of advice as they fought but in the end, even she sat and watched. The spells were going so fast that Hermione could only recognise the odd one and after a time she could see that, weirdly, it was Dumbledore that was flagging.

"Is that -"

"For all his power, Albus does not concentrate well," Minerva chuckled. "Like you during our chess matches."

"It's -" she glanced at Minerva and shook her head. "Never mind."

"It is not exciting to you," Minerva muttered as Albus sent a particularly complicated set of spells. "I enjoy the strategy. You do not," she nudged Hermione with her shoulder.

"I do genuinely enjoy playing with you, I just don't really enjoy the game. Like I'd much rather play cards or something, but I know it's something you enjoy so," she shrugged.

"I know," Minerva said indulgently. "It is the same for Albus and duelling. I can never decide whether it is because he knows he is the best or he is simply expected to be the best and so this is not exciting to him. I think he feels more of a rush when his life is actually at stake."

"That's -"

"Hmm," Minerva muttered. "Ah, here we go."

Hermione went back to her singular focus and watched as Dumbledore's casting almost became lazy.

"He's given up."

"He's ready to be done," Minerva clarified. "He's giving Filius the opportunity to end."

"That's," Hermione frowned. "I'm not sure how I feel about that. If he could concentrate, he could win."

"I often think that about your chess games," she smiled indulgently. "And, contrary to popular understanding, darling, life isn't always about winning."

Filius gave a shout and in an instant, Dumbledore's shield was down and he dropped his wand and knelt on the floor, his hand open-palmed. Filius smiled and stood straight, bowing again before he called across the room.

"One day, Albus Dumbledore, you are going to duel me properly."

The Headmaster chuckled and brushed his knees as he got to his feet.

"It is not a reflection of you, dear boy. Rather of my aching bones."

"A likely story," Filius chuckled. "Thank you, once again, for allowing me to stretch those muscles."

"Mine may never recover," Dumbledore laughed as Hermione trailed after Minerva to their side.

"What say you, Miss Granger?" Dumbledore smiled as she joined them.

"At the risk of gushing too much," Hermione blushed. "That was incredible."

Both men preened a little, which made Minerva snort.

"Perhaps a demonstration on how to speed up one's casting."

"You just wanted to see us duel, didn't you?" Filius mock-glared at her.

"I confess," Minerva smiled. "I wanted Hermione to see what we were trying to achieve." Minerva patted Filius on the shoulder. "Which you have done, in spades, so thank you."

"For me," Filius said, turning to Hermione. "It is the economy of motion. I can cast a spell precisely, or I can cast it well enough to do its job. What I trade in perfection and perhaps in power, I gain in speed. Does that make sense?"

"How do you stop it from becoming something else?" she asked as Filius demonstrated a stunning spell using barely any moment at all. "I mean -"

"Though we teach you to be precise for your exams, Hermione," Albus said, using her name for the first time ever. "When fighting for your life and the lives of others it doesn't really matter what it is that you send, as long as you send something."

"Oh, there you are," Professor Sprout grumbled as she came into the room. "I suppose I have you to thank for this Albus? No matter. You have guests, dear."

"Coming, darling," Filius chuckled as he winked at Hermione. "Stay, take your leisure."

"Thank you so much for your help, Filius," Hermione said. "And happy birthday!"

He smiled and followed his wife from the room, leaving them alone.

"Professor?" she said to the Headmaster as soon as the door was closed.

"Hmm?" he said, pulling two sweets apart.

"You missed Min's birthday."

"HERMIONE."

She grinned at him as he stared. He blinked a few times and then his eyes went wide and he looked over at his friend.

"Why didn't you say anything!"

"Albus," she snorted. "We haven't celebrated my birthday since the 80s. I was not too surprised."

He blinked and looked back at Hermione before returning his gaze.

"That is a massive oversight, Minerva, I beg your forgiveness."

"Och," she said, reverting back to that accent Hermione loved to listen to. "It's no bother."

"But you are worth celebrating, my dear!"

"See," Hermione sing-songed. "I told you."

"You, Trouble," Minerva growled, pulling Hermione into her arms. "Enough. I adore both of you but it is not worth a fuss. My birthday is just the day of my birth."

"Next year's party is going to be awesome," Hermione giggled as she looked at Dumbledore's twinkling eyes

Minerva clicked her tongue and released her from her arms.

"Speaking of -" She looked pointedly at Hermione and opened her hand. "May I see your knife again, please?"

Hermione did so with only a second's hesitation, passing out over, butt first.

"What do you make of this?"

"A beautiful weapon," he said quietly and a little seriously. "Is there something special about it?"

Minerva met Hermione's eyes and she groaned and let Minerva handle it. She interjected where it was necessary, but otherwise, let them talk until Minerva offered him the knife and he ran his hand over it without touching it. Minerva paused and closed her hand over the hilt as she looked up at him and something passed between them that Hermione wasn't privy to. There was a darkness in his eyes as he looked at it that Hermione didn't like and for the first time in her life, she deliberately touched Professor Dumbledore's hand unprompted.

It wasn't as if she held his hand, or wrapped her fingers around his but when she did he sighed and some of the darkness left him.

"I do not believe this to be malicious, Min," he said quietly. "But it is something." He turned to Hermione and fixed her with a look. "What do you feel?" He blinked and then turned back to Minerva. "Better yet, what do you feel?"

Hermione giggled at the shock on Minerva's face before she rallied and took stock of what it was she was feeling.

"I -" she spun the knife around again and Hermione huffed at the skill. The woman had clearly owned a knife before. "It is warm where it should be cool. And I feel it is not mine, though it doesn't mind me holding it." She blinked, looking a little shocked at the words she'd spoken. "Is it sentient? That's preposterous."

"There are a few things in this world that have echoes of feelings, Min but are not sentient. Wands? Our beloved home? Some nights when all I want is a hot chocolate, I find the staircases take me to the kitchens quite when I did not mean to."

"I don't like hot chocolate." Minerva and Hermione said in sync.

They blinked and looked at each other for a beat before Albus' laugh broke the moment.

"Two peas in a pod, indeed," he smiled. "Hermione, as it is your knife, do you believe it to be malicious?"

"No sir." Minerva scoffed. "Genuinely, no," she said again. "I understand Min's reticence, I really do but it does not feel like it did when the boys had Riddle's diary. That oozed darkness, somehow. Into the whole room. It clung to them, to Ginny and Harry. It was sticky and unpleasant, it made my skin itch. This feels determined, somehow. And," she groaned and rubbed her head. "It's happy. It's happy to be with me. And for the time being, it's happy to be with Min as well."

Minerva was the one to glare at her now and Hermione took it. She should have said more when she was asked but the moment had been so confusing. She was glad she had Professor Dumbledore to water down the moment.

"I would like to see them all," he said quietly. "Together. Sets of things can be powerful," he winked at her. "I'm sure you understand."

"I do," she laughed, thinking of the twins. "And I will present then to Professor McGonagall tomorrow morning like I promised."

"Good," he nodded. "Well, my dears, it is time for me to rejoin the party. Are you off?"

"I'm taking Min somewhere for her birthday."

"I think it is best we go back to the Castle," Minerva said with none of the softness that Hermione had come to enjoy. "Please do not come back drunk, Albus."

He looked at Hermione, while Minerva wasn't looking and nodded, taking a deep breath quite obviously and she nodded back, taking his meaning. He kissed Minerva on the head and closed the door behind him, leaving them in silence in the large room.

"I didn't mean not to tell you."

"That is two lies," Minerva's voice echoed its sharpness around the room. "Of course, you meant not to tell me."

Hermione took a deep breath like Dumbledore had warned her to do and stepped forward, closing Minerva's hand around her knife when she stuck it out at her.

"I didn't do it on purpose," she said apologetically. "I wanted you to be excited. I wanted to give you something, to show you how much I care. You told me I had become one of your greatest friends," Hermione whispered, now almost so close their foreheads were touching. "That we just fit. I was so confused when you shouted at me, I didn't know what to do and so I told you just enough to be truthful without being completely forthcoming. And I'm sorry," Hermione whispered. "There has never been anyone that has understood me like you, Min." Her voice had dropped to a whisper but it still roared around them. "Not even my -"

Her voice broke suddenly and she pulled away, covering her mouth to stop a sob from escaping.

"Hermione -"

That softness had crept back into the edges of that word, but Hermione only felt bereft that it wasn't full of it, like usual. It was as if she could see the soft tendrils of friendship that they had grown together were withering under the weight of her lies. Lies that didn't even matter in the scheme of things. Not like -

"I sent them away," Hermione whispered, sitting down heavily on the floor with her head in her hands. "I sent them away like they'd never had me. Like I'd never existed in their life. So they would be safe."

There was a very long silence before Minerva's voice reached her ears again.

"You did what?"

There was an edge that almost physically hurt Hermione, so she tucked herself into a ball, as small as she could and clarified.

"I performed a memory charm on them," she whispered. "A really complicated one. That I'm sure cannot ever be reversed. I sent them to Australia. Where they've never had a child. Where they'd be safe."

There was a noise that she couldn't place and Hermione looked up to see Minerva rushing to the side of the room and throwing up.

Hermione got to her feet and said next to her, her hand on her back while she got herself under control. She stood, wiping her mouth and freshening her breath before banishing the mess.

"I -"

Hermione nodded. Nothing really needed to be said. She was a despicable witch for doing it, for even attempting it. She could have killed them.

"It is time to return to the Castle. I think it is best that we do not meet this week."

"But Minerva -"

"Silence," Minerva almost shouted, making Hermione's stomach revolt a little. "That is the end of it."

Hermione did not ask for her knife back and Minerva did not offer it. They trudged up the stairs and though the party was in full swing, Dumbledore looked over, while he was mid-conversation and stood sharply, glancing at them both. He frowned and excused himself, joining them as Minerva was saying goodbye to Filius' son.

"What has happened?"

Hermione shook her head, too heartbroken to speak, but Dumbledore pushed.

"Hermione. Speak." She glanced at Minerva, who was doing her level best to ignore her so she turned away and let it all spill out. "I placed a memory charm on my parents. I sent them away for their protection. She is disgusted with me and is taking me back. Thank you for your help, before, sir," she muttered. "I do appreciate it. I'm sorry I've let you down."

"Her -" he looked as Minerva matched up to them.

"Come."

"Wait, Minerva -"

But she didn't. She matched her way out of the front door and to the gate. When they'd Apparated in, Minerva had taken her arm gently, but now, Hermione felt those long fingers holding her arm, not hard as Molly had done, but with none of the feeling prior. As soon as they landed in the village, Minerva let go and started walking. The South Gate beckoned and Hermione sighed as she stepped through, waiting while Minerva closed it behind her with a bang.

"Good afternoon Miss Granger," she said with a finality that broke Hermione's heart.

She watched Minerva storm off and groaned, sitting down against the stone wall that marked the boundary and stared off into space. Eventually, her tears abated for the moment and she trudged up to the Common Room in a daze. She ignored Harry's questions as she stumbled in and climbed the stairs, dropping Pavati's boots by her bed and climbing into hers while pulling the pins out of her hair and shoving down her jeans so she could pull her pyjamas on. By the time she was settled under the covers, the tears were streaming down her face again and she couldn't quite catch her breath. Someone got onto the bed and she felt Ginny's arms go around her tightly.

"I dunno what's going on," she whispered. "But we're here."

Another set of arms wrapped around her and she sobbed into Harry's chest as he held her. She couldn't speak, she could barely breathe but she clung to him until she had cried herself to sleep.

She, quite rightly, had potentially just lost the one person in this world that understood her on a soul level and the pain that was attached to that was more than she could bear.