Brewing the Polyjuice Potion with Theo Nott was interesting. It felt almost like it should be a chore, Hermione thought, with how often it had to be minded, but it was fascinating — though she suspected that she might find anything to do with magic fascinating in some way.

The potion required them to check on it periodically and add new things or stir, and they both went to mind it each time it was required. As a security measure, the prefect they'd drafted to help had added that both of their wands needed to be there for anyone to get through the now-hidden doorway, and Hermione had felt reassured by the extra protection. The prefect had demanded a favor of Theo as payment, though Theo hadn't said what it was.

"We just let it stew now," Theo said, satisfied as the potion hissed and burbled. "We should probably stir it once a day or so, to make sure it's being heated evenly, but I think we're pretty much done."

"Excellent," Hermione said, pleased. "It'll be done in no time at all."

They started picking up their things.

"I'm still glad we were able to find this room to brew in," Theo said. "I wasn't looking forward to having the boys' bathroom smelling like rotten seaweed for a month."

"Me too," Hermione agreed. She paused. "…do you think the Chamber of Secrets might be like this?"

Theo turned to look at her sharply. "Like what?"

"Hidden like this," Hermione said. "Requiring a specific wand or wands to reveal, maybe?"

Theo shrugged.

"I think wherever it is, the Chamber probably requires a blood sacrifice to get inside," he admitted. "Legend says that only Slytherin's heir would be able to open the chamber and unleash the horrors within. The only thing that could verify the true heir would be the right bloodline."

"That makes a lot of sense," Hermione said, frowning. He was probably right. "Theo, did Vol— did the Dark Lord ever have any children?"

Theo froze.

"That's an interesting question," he said, his voice deceptively casual. "What makes you ask that?"

"If the Dark Lord opened the Chamber the last time while he was still in school, then his descendant would be the new Heir," Hermione explained. "It could indicate who's behind this."

"What makes you think the Dark Lord opened the Chamber last time?"

Hermione looked at Theo, frowning. His face was like stone, utterly neutral.

"Let's say it's hypothetical," she said. "It seems reasonable to guess that the Dark Lord might be the Heir of Slytherin. So — did he?"

Theo made a face. "Not to my knowledge, at least," he said. "I think if he had an heir, I'd have heard of it by now."

Hermione carefully didn't react to that, but she did pause.

"Theo, may I ask you something personal?" she asked.

Theo gave her a sharp look.

"You can ask, but it doesn't mean I'll answer," he said warningly. "And I'll want something in return."

Hermione paused. "What would you want?"

"It depends on what you'd ask," Theo shot back. "Are you going to ask or not?"

Hermione considered. She was fairly sure she knew the answers to the questions she wanted to ask anyway, but she really wanted the confirmation. And it could be interesting to see what other information Theo let drop, as well as what Theo might want from her.

"Your father," she said finally. "Thoros Nott. What year did he graduate Hogwarts?"

Theo's eyes flashed.

"1946," he said tightly. "Is that all?"

Hermione raised an eyebrow.

"And… he was one of the original Death Eaters?"

"That's quite the accusation," Theo shot back immediately. "What gives you the right to malign my family in that way?"

"Knock it off, Theo," Hermione said, annoyed. "You can protest all you want to assuage your obligation to defend your family's honor, but it's common knowledge that your father was a Death Eater."

"While that may have been," Theo sniffed, "that's very different than being accused of being one of the original Death Eaters. Death Eaters in general are the Dark Lord's followers; the original ones are those who helped launch him into power."

"So if caught, they'd receive worse sentences?" Hermione guessed.

"My father resides in Nott Manor, Granger," Theo said, eyes narrowed. "Not Azkaban."

Hermione sighed. "And yet, your father was friends with the Dark Lord in Hogwarts."

Theo's reaction was immediate — he moved toward her quickly, grabbing her arm and pushing her up against a wall, his eyes fierce. Hermione panicked, sudden fear gripping her as Theo snarled at her.

"What makes you say that?" Theo hissed at her. "How do you know such a thing?"

"You're hurting me—!" Hermione protested, tugging at her arm.

Theo glared at her but let up on her a little, his fingers not digging in quite as hard.

"Well?" he demanded. He looked furious.

Hermione took several deep breaths to calm herself. Theo grabbing her had shaken her, and she needed a moment to settle down.

Suppressing the immediate urge to tell Theo everything he wanted to know, Hermione took a moment to consider her choices. She could tell Theo how she knew — she'd found Tom Riddle as Head Boy in the 1945 yearbook, and she'd noticed a familiar-looking face near him in the photo with the prefects for that year. It'd been easy to flip to the 6th years and see Thoros Nott peering out at her, with the same nose and jaw that Theo had. There had been another photo of them together, standing with three other boys, all three of them in Slytherin ties. Hermione had made a copy of the picture, and then duplicated the yearbook itself — whoever had produced it hadn't known copyright charms, apparently.

Or… she could not tell Theo anything. Theo never revealed his sources — he just seemed to know things. Why should she reveal hers?

(Especially because her sources were old yearbooks and messing around with anagrams on parchment. Those were much less impressive sources than a family library of ancient and secret knowledge.)

"I'll tell you if you answer me," Hermione bargained.

Theo looked mutinous.

"Only if you share first," he said, and Hermione shrugged.

"You'll need to let me go," she said. "It's in my bag."

Theo looked at her very suspiciously, but he slowly unclenched his hand from her arm, releasing her. Hermione gave him a haughty look before going over to her bag. It took some rummaging, but she found what she wanted.

"This is an old photo of the Dark Lord, back when he was in Hogwarts," Hermione told Theo, showing him the photo. "That one, there, is your father."

"How do you know this is of the Dark Lord?" Theo said immediately.

Hermione leveled him with a curt look.

"I am not wasting my time with this nonsense," she said flatly. "That boy, there, in the middle, grew up to be Lord Voldemort. You and I both know it."

Theo hissed at the name. He gave Hermione a grudging look.

"Fine," he said. "That's the young Dark Lord."

"Who are the others in the photo?" she asked. "Who were the other friends the Dark Lord had?"

"That is not what you asked before!" Theo objected loudly.

"I know it's not," Hermione said. "I'm changing my question. Because I had to show you this anyway, I may as well get the truth out of you."

Theo looked outraged, his face turning flushed and angry, his hands shaking slightly. Hermione sighed and waited, impatient, before a flicker of something flitted across Theo's face, making her pause.

Was that…

Was Theo scared?

She'd presumed he was angry, the way he'd lashed out. But if he was lashing out out of fear...

If he was frightened, not furious...

Hermione's eyes carefully scanned Theo from top to bottom. He was trembling, sure, but that could be from restrained anger as well as fear. His breathing seemed to be hard, and there was a thin sheen of sweat collecting on his forehead. His eyes were darting around rapidly, as if scanning instinctively for an exit.

Hermione paused and considered what she was asking from Theo's point of view, before wincing. Give me implicating information about your father's illegal activities that I have proof of in this photo seemed a lot worse when she parsed it out. No wonder he had reacted.

Biting her lip, Hermione tried a different tactic.

"I found this while trying to figure out who's opening the Chamber of Secrets," Hermione told him quietly. "I'm worried about the monster attacking. If there are children of the original Death Eaters who might have learned the secrets of the Chamber of Secrets, they might be the one who's opening it now."

Theo raised an eyebrow.

"And you think the monster might attack you?" he said. "Even though you're 'New Blood'?"

"I think if someone is controlling the monster, it would depend on what the person controlling the monster believes," Hermione shot back. "If it's one of the older students who don't see me in class and don't see evidence that I'm a New Blood, I'd be in danger. If it was you, I wouldn't be nearly as worried."

Theo looked surprised.

"You thought I might be the Heir of Slytherin?" he asked.

"I thought you might be the one opening the Chamber of Secrets," Hermione corrected. "I don't anymore, though."

Theo looked conflicted.

"I'm not asking you this to blackmail you." Hermione's voice was soft. "I'm asking you because I'm scared."

A torn expression warred on Theo's face, before he looked resigned.

"Give me the photo," he said.

Wordlessly, Hermione handed it over.

Theo sighed and examined the photo, peering at it closely.

"This one is my Dad," Theo confirmed. "These three — Dolohov, Rosier, and Mulciber," he said, pointing to each of them in turn. "I don't know their first names. And this is the Dark Lord. I don't know his name either."

Hermione's blood ran cold.

"Dolohov, Rosier, and Mulciber," she said. "They all have children here."

Theo looked uneasy.

"Alexia Rosier wouldn't be it," he said. "She has an older brother, Felix, who graduated a few years back. If one of them would be the Heir of Slytherin or would have been told how to open the Chamber, it would have been Felix."

Hermione fought not to react. Alexia Rosier had been one of the people who had attacked her in the abandoned classroom last year.

"Evzen's a seventh year, and he's doing his best to keep his nose clean," Theo continued. "He knows he's facing an uphill battle to get any kind of gainful employment with his father in Azkaban. I'd be really surprised if he's the one behind this."

"That leaves the Mulciber twins," Hermione said. "Either one of them could do it."

Theo shrugged.

"I mean, maybe?" he said. "They still wouldn't have the blood of the Heir of Slytherin, which is what I'd lock the Chamber of Secrets on. They'd only be able to if it worked via password, and if their grandfather knew and told them."

Hermione sighed. "I'd rather be overly cautious than not cautious enough," she said. "Thanks, Theo."

Theo looked down at her, considering.

"I get something in return, now," he told her.

"You do," Hermione agreed, amicable. "What do you want?"

"I want this photo," Theo said immediately. "And I want a flask of the completed Polyjuice Potion to keep for myself, no questions asked."

Hermione bit her lip.

"Does it keep for long?" she asked. "I feel like this probably has a short shelf life."

"It will in the right flask," he said.

Hermione considered, then nodded.

"Fine," she said. "Once it's done."

Theo glanced both ways in the corridor before they left the room, locking the door and watching it vanish from view. They headed back to their common room, keeping alert.

"I don't know where you're getting your information, Granger," Theo said grudgingly, "but I'm impressed."

Hermione nearly stumbled, but she managed keep walking and hide her reaction.

"Good," she said lightly. "It will be beneficial for both of us to continue to share information, then."

Theo went to his dorm room after they got to the common room. Hermione nodded a good-bye and went to sit down on one of the sofas, her mind replaying the scene in the brewing room over and over.

Theo shoving her against the wall, hard—

Not being able to squirm free—

The panic that flooded her body—

The details were vivid in her mind.

Finally she stood, going over to a group of older students.

"Excuse me," she said. "Do any of you know where Jade is?"

"Rince?" one of the boys asked. "Haven't seen her in a while."

"Jade's in the dormitory," another girl told her. "At least, last I knew."

Hermione thanked them and headed down the girls' dorm hallway, passing her own and continuing almost to the end. She knocked on the door for the 6th years, and there was a lengthy pause before the door cracked open, Jade peering out around it. Her hair was mussed and her shirt wrinkled, and she looked surprised when she saw Hermione.

"Granger?" she said. "What're you doing here?"

"I have a bit of a problem," Hermione said. "Might I come in?"

Jade cringed, but she acquiesced, opening the door enough to let Hermione slip inside.

Another older girl was inside, straightening her skirt. She had a Ravenclaw tie and a prefect pin.

"Hello," she said, offering Hermione a smile. "I'm Milan Bexley, from Ravenclaw."

"Hermione Granger," Hermione said immediately, dipping a curtsey. "It's a pleasure to meet you."

Milan laughed, then turned to Jade.

"She's adorable," she said. "Do all your little snakes always use such formality?"

"They do if they know what's good for them," Jade said, locking the door again. She fixed Hermione with a dark look. "They also keep their mouths shut, if they know what's good for them."

Hermione nodded. If Jade had a girlfriend, it wasn't any of her business.

"What do you need?" Jade asked her. "What's your problem?"

Hermione shivered, the memory coming back over her — the stark fear when Theo grabbed her arm, the realization he was physically stronger than her, the panic that had gripped her.

"Is there a way to fight off a boy if you can't get to your wand?" Hermione asked. "Say, if he grabs your wand arm and he's stronger than you?"

Milan gasped and Jade's face darkened.

"Are you okay?" Jade demanded. "Did anyone do anything to you?"

"I might have a bruise tomorrow, but that's all," Hermione said. "But… if it happened once, what's to stop it from happening again? I'm not a particularly strong person."

Jade and Milan exchanged a significant glance, before Jade turned back to Hermione.

"There are some spells," she told her slowly. "They're not widely taught, but they're passed down from mother to daughter in some families. They can help with that sort of thing — make your magic react to a threat and push the man away from you."

"There are also less Dark things one can do," Milan said, standing up from the bed. She moved over to Hermione, eyeing her. "How familiar are you with Muggle things?"

Hermione hid a smile. "More familiar than you'd expect."

Milan gave her a calculating look. "What do you know of martial arts?"

"Like karate?" Hermione said. "Or judo?"

"Yes," Milan laughed. "Have you heard of aikido?"

"No…"

"It's a martial art that's good for someone who's not particularly strong," Milan told her. "It relies on joint locks and using your attacker's momentum against them. I'll teach you a few methods I learned that can help you escape if something happens again."

"When did you learn all this?" Jade demanded, looking cross.

"After fourth year, when Julian grabbed me," Milan said. "My mother enrolled me in a self defense course over the summer. She didn't want me relying on my wand for everything."

Jade looked surprised, and Milan offered her a soft smile.

"I'll teach you too, love," she said. "Can't hurt, can it? And you can teach me the Dark spells?"

"They're not Dark," Jade muttered, but her face flushed.

Milan gave her a fond smile, and Jade gave her a half-smile back, embarrassed. Hermione watched all of this, feeling embarrassed herself. There was an intimacy between them that made Hermione feel like an intruder, but it was somehow heartwarming and sweet to see.

"Anyway," Jade said, clearing her throat. She turned to Hermione, her eyes sharpening once more. "Self-defense spells. Are you ready?"

Hermione twirled her wand. "I certainly hope so."

Jade smirked. "I guess we'll see, won't we?"

The rest of the evening passed with Jade and Milan in the 6th year Slytherins' dormitory learning self-defense methods, both magical and Muggle. It was a long few hours before Hermione finally dragged herself back to her own dorm room, both magically and physically exhausted.

Her body ached as she lay down in bed. The prefects' crash training course had been exhausting, and it had hurt — the amount of power those spells demanded was a lot, and getting hit with Milan's joint locks was painful — but Hermione felt a sense of satisfaction.

Now, if she ever needed to — Merlin forbid —she knew how to fight back.