With the arrival of June, Hermione devoted nearly every waking moment to revising. After all, surely the world could hold itself together for a week whilst she sorted out her education?
It turned out, however, that Fate would not be so kind, and when Harry pulled her and Ron aside to tell them about Hagrid's little revelation during the previous day's Quidditch match, Hermione wanted to pull out her own hair.
"Hang on, Harry," said Ron, frowning, "you said Hagrid took you to the Forbidden Forest? During the match?"
"Yeah, but — the match went on for ages, Ron. I saw most of it. You were brilliant, really. Fantastic."
"Right, yeah..."
"Harry," said Hermione with great exasperation, "why did Hagrid feel the need to introduce you to his half-brother?"
"His name's Grawp. Hagrid's really worried Umbridge is about to throw him out, and he just wants to make sure someone else knows Grawp exists. To make sure he's alright."
Ron wrinkled his nose. "What kind of giant would need us to look after it?"
"Nah, apparently he's alright on his own." Harry shrugged. "I think Hagrid's just worried he'll be lonely."
The three of them pondered this for a moment, and Hermione silently wondered how Hagrid was still finding the time to raise giants as pets.
Though Snape was considerate enough to dismiss them from Wolfsbane duty during the exam period, things hardly got any easier, even as they began to slowly tick off subjects. Charms went first, and that was perfectly fine; and Hermione felt fairly confident about her essay on the Principles of Transfiguration the day after. By the end of the first week, she was thoroughly exhausted and desperate for it to all be over so they could finally get some proper sleep.
Harry, meanwhile, seemed to be falling apart from the inside out. She could see how worried he was for his own exams, but whether that trumped his anxieties about the disturbing advancement of Voldemort could not be said. When he wasn't staring at textbooks, he was reading the Prophet, trying to piece together exactly what wasn't being reported and what it all might mean. The attack on Professor McGonagall during their Astronomy exam and her subsequent transfer to St Mungo's hardly soothed anyone; Hermione hadn't slept at all afterwards and still feared for her professor's wellbeing. That many Stuns? And at point-blank range?
It was shameful, really, that Harry wasn't given any academic accommodation. What if he performed poorly on his O.W.L.s because of all this? It wasn't fair. His future shouldn't be hindered because of extreme circumstances out of his control!
Hermione watched him now in despair, hunched over his exam parchment, apparently asleep. It was difficult to be sure exactly, as he was sitting one row in front of her and to the right, but he hadn't moved (except for a few twitches) since she'd begun her essay on the differences between the 1487 Treaty of Magicked Persones and the Humanic-Equestrienne and its modern-day counterpart, and that had been at least fifteen minutes ago.
The proctor circling the room appeared to have noticed this and was silently laughing at the sight of the Boy Who Lived, asleep during his History of Magic O.W.L.
Shameful!
As they filed out of the exam sometime later, Hermione, to her surprise, found Harry's eyes sharp and alert. His scar looked irritated. Dread immediately filled her.
Shortly after, when she found herself trapped in Umbridge's office, a triumphant smirk on the headmistress' face while her squad of sycophants happily confiscated wands, Hermione couldn't help but notice that her intuition had proven true.
Dammit, Harry! You never learn!
Ginny glowered as Millicent Bullstrode yanked her arm sharply, keeping her in place. No-one else in the room seemed to be faring much better; it looked like Crabbe might actually dislocate Neville's shoulder, and Harry appeared ready to lunge at Umbridge.
Hermione glanced down at Draco's arm around her waist, restraining her with enough pressure to constitute a firm hug, maybe. She had no doubt she could easily break free if she wanted. And maybe if she planned it right, she could grab her wand from his pocket, too —
"He's got Padfoot!" cried Harry, and Hermione winced. This was all spiralling out of control very quickly, and the desperation in Harry's voice did not bode well. If she could just convince him to wait long enough to make sure Sirius was alright, then maybe —
Snape disappeared, the door shutting behind him. Umbridge appeared to be thinking very hard about something. Draco shifted.
"You want Snape's help?" he hissed near her ear.
"Yes!" She twisted a little so he could hear her. "Draco, if Harry doesn't speak with Snape alone soon, he's going to do something very stupid."
She heard Draco mutter something along the lines of, "Idiot Potter… can't go a year without trying to tear down the bloody castle," and she couldn't help but agree a little.
Across the room, Goyle gave them an odd look and Draco shook her a little for show, tightening his hold across her waist for a moment. Her back pressed against his chest. She could feel his breathing.
"Very well, Mr Potter… if you will not be forthcoming… and without Veritaserum... the Cruciatus Curse ought to —"
"That's illegal!" Hermione snarled, trying in earnest now to escape Draco's hold, who quickly held her back before she could physically attack Umbridge.
But it wasn't any good — Umbridge was clearly steeling herself to cast the spell, and Hermione didn't doubt that she had enough malice to do it — Harry was gripping the arms of his chair, fire in his eyes as he dared her to do her worst —
Draco cleared his throat. "Headmistress? If I may —"
"Yes, Mr Malfoy?" Umbridge demanded impatiently. "What is it?"
"Sorry, ma'am, but I believe I may be able to offer an alternative that may be more efficient than Cruciatus, and — well, more palatable."
Umbridge squinted at him, her wand still pointed between Harry's eyes. "Yes? What is your solution, then? This is a time-sensitive issue, Mr Malfoy. If Dumbledore —"
"I understand, headmistress. Well, you know about our supplemental Potions training —"
"Your ingredient preparation class?"
"Yes, well Professor Snape would occasionally humour our more theoretical interests. Just discussion, of course, though he would occasionally supervise mild experimentation —"
"I fail to see how this would help —"
"Of course, headmistress. My reason for telling you this is we developed a potion which may help you get what you need from Potter."
Hermione held her breath, utterly frozen in Draco's arms. This situation was now entirely out of her grasp.
"And what is this potion, Mr Malfoy?"
"It's derived from Veritaserum and Amortentia. It's untested, of course, since we couldn't risk injury —"
"No, no, of course not —"
"— but assuming it works as designed — and we have very good reason to believe it does — then Potter would not only tell you the truth, but happily comply with anything else you might… require of him, headmistress."
Umbridge mulled this over while the room waited in stunned silence. Hermione stared at the ground, wondering whether to affect pride or shame, since she was now apparently a part of this performance. She chose the latter when Umbridge spoke again:
"And I suppose she had a part in this?"
Draco shifted uncomfortably against her. "Only a little, ma'am. The bulk of the theorising was done by myself and Professor Snape, of course."
"Yes, yes of course…"
Silence again. Hermione wondered what Umbridge was thinking. Would it be worth accidentally poisoning Harry, or be better to torture him and risk the Ministry's wrath?
Then again, what on Earth was Draco thinking? Of course there was no such potion, and they couldn't exactly feed Harry any old thing they found lying around Snape's office! How, exactly, did he intend this to play out?
"Very well," declared Umbridge, "we will try your little potion. You and I will go down to the dungeons together, Mr Malfoy." She paused, then more sourly added, "Bring her, I suppose." Addressing the rest of her squad, she instructed, "You are to keep the rest of them here, in my office, until I return, using whatever means necessary. Under no conditions may you allow them their wands. And do not let Potter near the fireplace!" The other Slytherins nodded greedily, and then Umbridge directed Draco to bring Hermione to the door.
"Best keep a firm hand on this one, Mr Malfoy. She can be quite tricky."
Draco's hand remained in a comfortable fist in the back of her robes as they walked, Umbridge always a few paces behind. Down they went, and Hermione frantically tried to plan for every contingency. What if Snape called their bluff? What if Umbridge figured out the deception before they even made it to the dungeons?
Draco gently pushed her forward a little bit to match his quick pace. While Hermione had been carefully guarding her expressions, Draco looked smugly proud. Behind them, Umbridge huffed as she tried to keep up.
When the headmistress had fallen several paces behind, Hermione furiously whispered, "What are you doing?!"
"You wanted a de-escalation, so I de-escalated!"
"So what's your plan now? Once we get to the dungeons, she'll see we've tricked her!"
"I know, that, don't I? Can't you come up with something clever?"
She wanted to, of course she did! But the fear was starting to creep up on her and her thoughts were spinning wildly out of control. "We could try and incapacitate her somehow —"
"Even if it works, you'll be expelled, Granger."
Shit. Shit shit shit shitshitshitshitshi—
"We'll tell her we need Snape to let us in," whispered Draco with finality, "then he'll sort it out and go speak with Potter."
For a dizzying moment, Hermione realised that this is what it must be like to be a Slytherin, to know that Snape would always be on your side. But it was as sound a plan as any and, more importantly, the only one they had.
They passed through another corridor and waited in stiff silence for the staircase to arrive. Hermione was exceptionally disappointed when Umbridge started to talk again.
"You know, Mr Malfoy, I must say I'm disappointed in your not disclosing your little 'experiments,' as you so put it."
"I understand, headmistress, and you have my heartfelt apologies." The ease with which he found the right words to say, the way he performed his remorse just right could not be doubted. How did he do it? Just slip into a façade so convincing that Hermione, for a second, wondered if maybe he had been experimenting with potions all along? "Professor Snape and I didn't want to trouble you with something minor like this, you see, not when the rest of the school demanded so much of you."
"That's quite considerate of you, Mr Malfoy. What a pity it is that your peers aren't quite as understanding…"
I'll tell her I gave it my best go, he'd told her as he'd watched the fireworks with a smirk, because I care about the school and maintaining a good, educational environment, but it was all just too much for a humble fifth year like me. Not with the rest of the students being so wild.
Hermione was stunned to realise that what she'd thought to be a joke had actually been his defence. And Umbridge had fallen for it.
She took careful steps down the stairs, always trying to keep up with Draco's pace lest he push her down the stairs by accident. Umbridge would probably applaud him. She had fallen behind again, her shoes clicking on the ground unevenly.
Hermione chanced another whisper. "If you're so keen to impress her, I don't understand why you're helping me."
Draco scoffed quietly. "Just because I don't want to see Potter's annual near-death experience doesn't mean I'm on your side."
Creak.
Draco's fist tightened in Hermione's robes as the three of them stopped.
"What was that?" demanded Umbridge, turning and raising her wand. "Who's there? I warn you, as headmistress, if you do not show yourself, I —"
BANG!
All the light disappeared. Hermione yelped as the inky darkness filled in and Umbridge screamed incantations to try and counter it. Beside her, Draco swore and pulled her closer.
It was Harry's voice that shouted her name.
"Harry?"
"Come on!" A sweaty hand wrapped around her wrist and pulled.
"Merlin's bollocks —" muttered Draco. A second later, her wand was pressed into her hand, and he released her.
Harry tugged her out of the darkness, down the stairwell, and Hermione blinked at the sudden light. Before her stood Ron, Neville, Ginny, and Luna, all various degrees of exhilarated. Harry pulled off his Invisibility Cloak beside her.
"Well done!"
"What on Earth did you do?" demanded Hermione. "How did you get free?"
"Did you really think a handful of Inquisitorial Morons would be able to keep us in there very long?" said Ginny. "I'm almost insulted."
"Fair enough," Hermione conceded.
Conversation abruptly turned to the issue of Sirius' supposed kidnapping as they followed Harry to the Entrance Hall at a run. Ron was still trying to work out a way to get a hold of six decent broomsticks by the time Hermione caught enough breath to shout, "Harry!"
They all came to a halt on the lawn.
"Harry, we can't just go flying off to the Ministry —"
"We tried to contact Sirius already," Harry snapped impatiently. "Look where that got us."
"But what if —"
"We haven't got any time, Hermione! It's been hours, now, since I — since I saw him! I'm going, and if I've got it wrong you can yell at me later, but I'm not going to change my mind and if you're not interested in helping, you can stay behind and wait to get expelled when Umbridge finds you."
Hermione swallowed back the hurt from his words and the hard set of his jaw. He was almost hysterical with fear, a whole year's worth of frustration and pain now exploding in spectacular fashion.
Every bit of this idea reeked with danger and idiocy. But she couldn't let him go alone.
As she clung to the thestral's invisible back and watched Hogwarts disappear, she hoped it wouldn't end as badly as she feared.