The Daily Prophet the next morning did not disappoint. Hermione enjoyed her breakfast to headlines of:

WIZENGAMOT DEBATES WEREWOLVES
New legislation proposes outlawing transformation

.

WEREWOLF SLEEPOVER WITH THE KIWIS
Proposed bill would send werewolves to New Zealand to spend full moon nights

.

WEREWOLVES IN THE WILD: MISUNDERSTOOD OR MURDEROUS?
Read our helpful guide to determine if werewolves are a threat to you!

There was also an opinion piece, with opposing viewpoints pitted against each other. One opinion argued that sending the werewolves halfway across the globe for a minibreak once a month at the Ministry's expense was ridiculous, claiming everyone would sign up to be a werewolf just for a free Portkey across the globe. The other argued that werewolves were a constantly growing problem, and that eventually, it would come down to either this legislation or locking them all up in Azkaban as a preventative measure.

There was little discussion at the breakfast tables over the headlines. It was just politics, which was largely boring and did not affect most students. Breakfast was filled with more complaints of late nights finishing essays and exam stress more than anything, but Hermione tuned out the conversations around her, watching Lupin and Snape at the Head Table as they read the paper. The Daily Prophet had gotten a copy of the full text of the bill and had printed it on page 5, and Hermione was curious to see how her teachers would react.

Lupin read over the paper without much of a reaction, his eyebrows rising very high, but he tilted his head as he read over the articles, nodding from time to time in mild agreement. Hermione wasn't sure what parts he was agreeing with, but she hoped he thought it was a good idea. He didn't like transforming, and she suspected he'd be happy to have somewhere safe to sleep one night a month.

Snape, though…

Snape's expression was inscrutable. Hermione couldn't read him at all – all she could see was that there was a hidden intensity in his emotion, betrayed by the tension in his knuckles, behind his eyes. She'd have to talk to Snape, Hermione decided. She wanted to know what he thought.

Hermione had just resolved to try and corner him after breakfast when she was grabbed and dragged to the side of the hall by an older Hufflepuff, a girl who looked at Hermione with shining eyes.

"Thank you," she said emphatically. She sniffed, wiping her face on her sleeve. "This… this is the first hope I've seen for them that might actually work."

The girl was vaguely familiar, and Hermione wracked her brain.

"…Éadaoin?" she ventured. "You were the one who ran against me, right?"

"Éadaoin Lobosca. And I did." Éadaoin wiped her eyes. "But I'm so glad you won and not me! I would have never thought of this. And now—my sister—"

She broke off again, sniffing hard and scrubbing at her eyes with her robes, and Hermione ventured a compassionate smile, though it came out like more of a wince.

"I-I'm glad it could help your sister," Hermione said. "Hopefully it passes. Get all your friends to write to their representatives to get them to vote for it. Ah, I have to go…"

Hermione escaped from the older girl, stepping back as a bunch of Gryffindor boys were pushing their way through and getting swept up in the traffic. She escaped further down, glancing warily down the hall.

"You're going to be her hero," came a derisive drawl from behind her. "She's going to love you."

Hermione turned to see Pansy smirking at her, Daphne smiling at her side.

"Oh, shut up," Hermione said, rolling her eyes. "It's not even about that."

"You've saved her poor sister," Pansy said, her tone dripping. "How could she not worship the ground on which you walk?"

"The bill has to pass, first," Hermione said, making a face. "We're a long way from hero worship yet."

"It'll pass," Daphne said confidently. "My father wrote to me. The only real objectors are lowlifes who just like being argumentative so they can feel important. If you call for a vote next time, after people have had time to write to their representatives, the people for it will likely outweigh those against."

"You think?" Hermione bit her lip. "People were concerned it would upset the werewolves…"

"Well, if the goal was to avoid that, that Snitch has already flown, hasn't it?" Pansy said dryly. "It's plastered all over the papers. Greyback is bound to see it if he's anywhere there are newspapers. If they didn't want him upset, they should have made the Prophet keep their mouths shut."

"It'll be fine," Daphne hastily assured Hermione, who looked alarmed. "They'll vote to pass it, and we'll host the party in late July. It sounds like Ludo Bagman wants the facility built and fully operational before the World Cup as a safety measure, and the commerce that comes with the World Cup will help sway people who are on the fence…"

Hermione sighed.

"I hope so," she said. "I suppose we'll wait and see."

Exam preparation and review was fully underway in Hermione's classes, and it was oddly relieving for her to focus on nothing but her studies. With the Sirius Black matter taken care of, the Peter Pettigrew issue handled, and her legislation successfully introduced, Hermione only had one major thing besides exams left to worry about. And at this point, worrying about being blackmailed wouldn't accomplish anything – the Philosopher's Stone was working away, transmuting the Elixir of Life, and unless Hermione had a change of heart and decided to try and murder her blackmailer, there was nothing more she could do at this point.

Instead, she and her friends studied for exams outside together, reviewing charms and transfigurations, quizzing each other on theory. The entire school seemed to rejoice in the turn of weather and the lack of dementors, now that they had been removed back to Azkaban. It was a kind of manic freedom for a while, students running around and playing weird, made-up games, before people gradually grew reaccustomed to the peace.

It was lovely. Hermione felt like she could breathe again with the dementors gone and fully relax for the first time in a long time.

Draco was still trying to make up for being a bad friend. He and Theo came over to review Potions with Hermione, Tracey, Blaise, and Millie in the common room one night, and they all made plans to review charms in an empty classroom the next day. The charms review eventually turned into practice dueling with Hermione as referee, Theo and Blaise casting curses at each other as fast as they could, everyone else cheering from the sides. It was terrifying and exhilarating, and decidedly did not help any of them review Cheering Charms, but it was a fun and successful day nonetheless.

To Hermione's astonishment, Draco's attempts at friendship went beyond associating with her Slytherin friends – he approached her in the library when she was with Harry, Neville, and Ron, where they were all reviewing quietly at a back table.

"I saw your Arithmancy books," Draco said, nodding at Harry's textbook. Draco glanced at Hermione. "I wondered if you wanted to review together."

"We don't need your help, Malfoy," Ron sneered. "Go trick someone else."

"It's not a trick!" Draco protested. "I just thought—" He paused, considered something, before a slow smirk spread across his face. "You've got a low chance of getting higher than an A on the exam, Potter, with your lack of skill with runes. Do you really want to turn away my genius?"

Harry rolled his eyes but scooched his chair over, and it was with a triumphant grin that Draco joined their table, helping Harry with his Arithmancy review at the far end. Ron shot a venomous look at Malfoy, suspicious, which Draco ignored.

"Don't pay attention," Neville advised. "We have to get through this Potions review, Ron. How do you prepare rat spleen?"

Hermione finished her work before anyone else. While the others finished their own review sheets, she took out a book on Divination theory Fleur had sent her and started reading it very slowly.

"Is that in French?" Harry asked, looking over her shoulder. His eyes widened. "You can read French?"

"Not easily," Hermione admitted. "But did you know they don't teach Divination or Arithmancy at Beauxbatons? I wanted to know why."

"Because they're rubbish at it?" Draco suggested, and Hermione rolled her eyes.

"My grandmother said something about that once," Neville said, reflective. "They disagree with it on like… a different level. It's not that they can't do divination, but that you shouldn't do anything to glimpse the future."

"It's a philosophical objection," Hermione said, nodding. "I wanted to read their arguments to learn more about why. But…"

"They're all in French?" Draco finished for her. He grinned. "No translations yet available?"

"Shut up," Hermione groaned. "It was worth a try."

Hermione also found herself, rather unexpectedly, helping the Ravenclaws and Blaise with their final essays for Muggle Studies. They'd each been assigned a topic to write about, and Professor Burbage had deliberately assigned them things not covered in the textbook. The types of questions her classmates had for her boggled her mind.

"So explain this to me again," Terry Boot said, looking at Hermione very seriously. "This device, this 'binder'."

"It stores papers," Hermione repeated. "Muggles use paper, not parchment. It's a set size – about a foot – and it doesn't roll up. They punch holes in the papers and put them in order on the rings of the binder to stay organized."

"They punch them?" Anthony Goldstein repeated, incredulous.

"There's a tool they use that punch tiny holes, maybe a quarter of an inch across," Hermione said quickly. "They're not fighting their papers."

"So they destroy tiny parts of their papers," Terry said, "to string them up in an order." He paused. "Is there a reason they could not use a folder?"

Hermione paused. "Well, you can't really turn pages as naturally in a folder. And it's harder for larger documents."

"And why don't they bind them?"

"You can rearrange pages in a binder," Hermione explained. "You can't rearrange pages in a book once it's bound."

"If they want to rearrange the pages, why did they put them in the wrong order in the first place?"

Anthony was grinning widely at Terry's questions. Anthony had gotten an easier item – a thermostat – which was so easily compared to a localized weather-controlling charm that he'd finished his essay before anyone else.

"What did you say was the bad thing about glitters?" Mandy asked, looking up from her essay. "They kill fish?"

"Glitter is considered a microplastic," Hermione said patiently. "Because microplastics are so tiny, they usually end up getting past filters and ending up in water ways and oceans, where they can affect the wildlife."

"What are you writing so much for?" Michael Corner wanted to know, leaning over to look at Blaise's essay. "You've only got a bloody window."

"I got stained glass," Blaise corrected. "And do you know the history of this stuff? It's way more culturally important than just 'a window'."

"How do you know the history of it, anyway?"

"Because I'm not culturally ignorant," Blaise said curtly. "There's stained glass everywhere in Italy. You don't have to be a muggle to appreciate the beauty."

Michael sniffed. "Whatever. It's just glass."

"What did you get?" Anthony asked. "Muggle spellotape?"

"Masking tape," Michael corrected. He frowned down at his parchment. "As far as I can tell, it's just blasted tape. I don't know the difference between this and Spellotape."

Gently, Hermione began to explain the difference, how masking tape was made by adding an adhesive to paper, whereas other tapes were an adhesive applied to a very thin layer of cellulose. Anthony shot her a grateful look (as Michael was in a mood and certainly wouldn't express gratitude himself), and Blaise was tapping his quill against his lips.

"Do you think Burbage would give me extra credit if I tried to make a stained-glass window?" he asked.

"No," said Terry pointedly. "That'd be incredibly unfair. I can't just 'make' a binder. Anthony can't just 'make' a thermostat."

"Bother." Mandy sighed deeply. "How am I supposed to get another 6 inches on glitter? I should have just taken Magical Creatures instead."

One thing that caught Hermione off-guard, though, was the lack of other classmates wanting to study with her. The previous year, the first years had asked her questions when they needed help – she was known for being kind and patient and helping. This year, only the Slytherin younger years seemed to be asking her for help, and only in the common room, never the library. Hermione remarked on it to her coven one day as they worked on essays under a tree.

"It's not like anything's changed," Hermione said. "And it's not like I'm upset that they're not asking me for help. I just wish I knew why."

"You're evil now, Hermione, remember?" Luna said.

Hermione shot Luna a sharp look. "Excuse me, what?"

Susan sighed heavily. "No, I've got the same problem. It's not just you."

Hermione looked to Susan, who gave her a melancholy look.

"I can tell everyone over and over again that covens are honorable, that they are good, but the fact is, a lot of people still think covens exist to use Dark magic," she said. She sighed. "I didn't realize at first, really – it was subtle – but people have definitely started treating me differently in Hufflepuff. Not being mean to me. Just… avoiding me."

"They don't want you to curse them," Luna explained. "If they think you're doing Dark magic frequently, they wouldn't want to attract your notice."

"Luna, have you noticed people avoiding you?" Hermione asked.

Luna blinked. She tilted her head, considering.

"I honestly don't know if I'd be able to tell," she said. "Most people avoided me from before the coven announcement."

"I have," Harry said. He frowned. "Seamus and I had a row about it one night, but Ron and Neville sided with me, so it was fine. Lavender and Parvarti keep making snide comments, though."

"Why do you care what Lavender Brown thinks?" Blaise asked incredulously.

"I don't." Harry made a face. "But Ron seems to fancy her, and he's concerned that if she dislikes me, it will rub off on him, and then Lavender won't agree to go to Hogsmeade with him."

Hermione stifled a laugh. "He's going to ask her out?"

"I doubt it," Harry said, rolling his eyes. "But he likes to imagine he'll find the courage someday."

Being aware of the cause made Hermione notice her quiet ostracization more. It was subtle – people veering around her in the halls, scared looks being shot after her in the library, whispers as she entered the Great Hall. People in Slytherin, though, seemed to have the opposite reaction – she got nods of approval and respect from the older Slytherins, and a few of the younger ones looked at her with something like worship in their eyes.

Slytherin was the house where ambition and power mattered, and the house was not necessarily worried about whether magic was 'light' or 'dark' or in between. They respected the fact she'd made a coven, helped Professor Binns pass on, and helped their Head Girl conceive a child. Hermione found herself grouchily comparing other houses to Slytherin and dismissing them as short-sighted and superstitious, isolating her because they didn't understand what a coven really was.

In an odd way, Hermione found she missed helping the younger students. She'd liked being able to help them, and it made her feel like a junior Head Girl, in a way, or a tutor. She mentioned it to Blaise after seeing a few second years go to Hannah Abbot for help in Transfiguration (Hannah Abbot! Over her!), and Blaise gave her a commiserating look.

"We could get the focus off of us," Blaise suggested. "If it still bothers you. We could help a group of firsties in Gryffindor and Hufflepuff make a coven, and then everyone will be looking at them."

"That sounds like a lot of work," Hermione complained. "And I don't know any first years in Gryffindor or Hufflepuff."

Blaise's eyes gleamed. "Then why do you care what they think of you?"

Hermione huffed and rolled her eyes. She didn't like that he had a point.