Author's Note:

Currently out of town. Replies might be slow. Edited the first chapter to show that this is still the first arc: Adaptation.

I do take the time to reply to reviews when I can. For one, I appreciate the dedication of Suzululu4moe who took the time and effort to write a review for practically every single chapter (will get back to the rest of your reviews later, when I'm less rushed). Then, there are statements that I feel are redundant for me to clarify. One of them would be this section from one Guest review:

[It's weird that an older Hermione is attracted to a 15 year old boy. She should really think about that before she does something reprehensible.]

Since answering this would involve meta-explanation instead of letting the explanation already in the story stand for itself (and that's bad storytelling), I'm only going to say this obscure line as my explanation: Tom isn't even as determined and ambitious as Emmanuel Macron was, back when he was still courting his wife. Then, there's also the matter of Hermione's age and the degree of everyone's maturity here...though I suppose that's not going to be obvious until chapter 35 and 36.

'-

To: the rest of the review by Guest:

[Hermione managed to take all the classes she wanted her 5th year. Why is scheduling a problem now?]

Why do you think Hermione took the exact same classes she took in her first round of 5th year? Why wouldn't she consider the possible threats against Harry's life that would definitely take time for her to face? Also, I refer back to my notes on the advanced classes.

[In her third year, Hermione must have been a rare exception to want to take all the classes. It would have helped that she was an exceptional student, capable of managing a lot of weight on her shoulders;]

Al...right, then? No idea why you have to mention this, though.

[I also rather think Hogwarts would never refuse education to a willing student, especially as they only wanted to explore and learn by attending classes for subjects already offered by the school (they didn't have a lot of problem with dispensation for private classes, either, as proven by Harry in his 3rd, 5th and 6th year).]

Um, what? I have no idea what this has to do with anything. I don't think anyone is stopped from taking any classes here.

'-

26 The Honesty of Children

The young have no pretence and wears no masks. They are honest even in violence. A talk with Professor Dexter. Plans and more plans for headquarters and the Search itself.

'-

Tom could not quite understand why she'd rather choose to take Advanced Astronomy after Ancient Runes instead of choosing to take Advanced Charms like he did, but he knew there was no way to change her mind when she was determined and merely asked whether she needed him to show the way to the class. She assured him that she'd be fine with the class' syllabus at hand and a sympathetic locating charm. Personally, Hermione agreed that she'd probably find Charms class more interesting than Astronomy, but she had the feeling that she wasn't going to know her other classmates much whenever her schedules coincide with Tom (and it coincided most of the time).

It wasn't as if she enjoyed socialising—goodness, no.

She'd rather just read and perhaps finish her schoolwork if she wasn't trying to chart the current flow of history altogether. Yet if there was one thing that helping to cover for Harry and Ron at the DMLE against a jealous official or another taught her, it was that she always needed to know the social field.

(Harry had this inconvenient habit of leaving building on fire, or falling down, or falling down and on fire. Post-op reports have always shown him being able to justify the destruction—he has the bad luck of always attracting the worst foes specifically out looking for him—but people still think that he did it on purpose. Admittedly, he also has a problem scaling back the power on the spells he used, but Hermione considered bringing corridors down when he was supposed to cover his team's retreat was a totally valid action. Though when those corridors are underground corridors, its collapse would understandably not spare the building above them. So…hmm, wait, she'd forgotten her point already.)

Hermione wasn't naturally charismatic, or sympathetic that she can instantly connect with most people just by chatting with them on the spot—she knew that very well.

She could be arcane when she talked, she wasn't the most sensitive to social cues, and she'd only gotten used to biting back her reflex to correct people when they said thing that were obviously wrong a few years into her stint as an Unspeakable. Ah, diplomatic, that was the word Daphne kept using. It had taken Hermione a lot of effort to be more diplomatic.

But she had also found out that diligent background research covers a multitude of sins. Hermione was very good at research.

If she could find out who the officials that were currently complaining against Harry, she could find out how they got promoted to their current posting and what their policies had been. That way, she could already start seeing the pattern whether their dislike was because they consider Harry as an obstruction to what they do (say, rolling back the Auror force), or because they dislike his popularity (read: usually people who were aiming to be the next Minister for Magic or other high-profile posts).

Once she had started to gain a better idea of their motivation, she could find out who their allies and supporters are, or more importantly, who were their enemies. There would always be people who disagreed with those officials, and Hermione could reach out for them. These rivals have, in turn, usually kept track of those people's careers longer than Hermione had. If she could build enough rapport to cooperate with them, they usually don't mind giving her pointers on how to hit back.

Bullseye.

So, in the interests of surveying the students around her and collecting data of who might be an annoyance and who weren't, there would be times when she had to get out of the circle of Tom's halo. (Tom definitely had a halo. Students were respectful of him and/or they admired him. Many of them deferred to his authority or charisma easily and they saw him as some larger-than-life figure. She was going to get the associated benefits as long as she was near him, but she wasn't going to see the more honest version of those students).

Hence her current choice to attend Advanced Astronomy instead of Advanced Charms.

She knew where the class was, there was no question. Yet since she was also interested to see just how accurate the sympathetic locating charm was, she tried it out on her syllabus too. She wanted to see whether the directions given would end up being the Astronomy Tower or Professor Dexter's office. This casual stroll took her to a longer route she didn't usually take, though she suspected it was one more often used by her Head of House. Well, she had the time, she can certainly walk around a bit.

That was when she saw the kids around the corner. She suspected that they were first or second years just from how short they were.

"Oh, look what we have here." The childish voice had a high mocking tone. Hermione knew that tone because she heard it often enough before she came to Hogwarts the first time around. She drew back to be able to observe them unnoticed.

"Give it back!"

A girl was trying to take back a scroll from her classmate, who threw it to another witch behind her with a whoop of success. Her second tormentor unrolled it and waved it around.

"Look at this, ink blobs everywhere!"

"Ewww," the other girls provided a chorus of disapprovals and disgust.

"Such ugly handwriting." The first tormenter called out. The second one was now dodging the girl's furious attempt to get her scroll back.

"What a mess!"

"Yes. You'd think that she never knew how to write." The first one said again.

"Maybe she doesn't," another piped up.

"Yes, because she lives with muggles, we all know what muggles are like."

"Shut up! Shut up, shut up, shutup!" The girl was shouting now, but it wasn't hard to see that she was tearing up. She shoved the girl who was holding the scroll up in frustration and that other girl fell on her bum, staring up in disbelief.

"So violent!"

"Yeah!"

"Exactly like all those muggles!"

"We're going to tell the teachers on you!"

Hermione chose that moment to step out of the corner. "Really? And who are you going to report to? Because I think I can make the time to escort everyone there and wait as you tell the professors all your stories. In case there are…holes and missing parts in your stories, I can fill and correct them easily."

She smiled, but her firm and steady voice carried the implicit threat of authority and the first-years froze (she was sure they were first-years now—that awkwardness with quills was telling).

"Hand me the scroll," she ordered, and the witch holding it did so with guilt transparent on her face. She rolled it up with ease and made sure she stared everyone down. Not many could meet her gaze for long. Most of their ties were from Ravenclaw, with one from Gryffindor (that was tormenter number two).

"Tell me your names and the class you're going to right now."

One of them were apparently quick on the uptake. "But you're not a prefect!"

"Two of my good friends are prefects, and do you really want me to get either of them here, right now? Especially one of our House's prefects?" Hermione asked, waiting for realisation to sink in, "or are you just going to tell me your names and where you're going to now?"

They clammed up quickly after that and did as they were told, even if it was reluctantly or sullenly, in the case of the ring leaders. Hermione memorised all six names with ease, along with a quick description of each (strong emotions were such a good memory booster).

"Now, do I have to escort you all to make sure you reach your potions and transfiguration class, or can I trust you to do that on your own?"

They quickly affirmed that they can absolutely be left to go alone.

"Good. Now, all of you can go off—except for Miss Hattie Perks here, who clearly needs some assistance for her handwriting. Now, go on, you do have to get to class, don't you?"

They all hurried away, not questioning their luck of being able to escape her quickly. Hattie Perks, however, looked mulish. She was a round-cheeked girl whose hair was kept in two braids, and her efforts to frown and look serious only gave her a pronounced pout. If Hermione wasn't trying to calm her down right now, she would be tempted to laugh. Instead, she knelt down to be able to see eye-to-eye with the first-year. Her eyes were green and so close to Harry's shade that she couldn't help but miss him in that moment.

"Is this your scroll?" Hermione asked.

"You know it is."

"No, I don't really know, actually. I just knew that they took it from you. It could have been your friend's scroll for all I know."

Hattie gave her a look that clearly said 'are you stupid?' that kids seem to be so good at.

"Well?"

The little witch huffed. "It's mine. They wouldn't be saying all those things if it wasn't, would they? It doesn't matter that Dillingham has worse handwriting than I do, because she doesn't have muggle parents and she doesn't have large ink blots in her hands. Or Greengrass, but he comes from a pureblood family so nobody cares."

Hattie started with complaining before she ended up ranting and yelling and her voice had started hitching at the end in a way that Hermione knew meant you're holding back tears. She tugged the first-year into her arms. The little witch resisted at first, only standing there stiffly. As Hermione gently stroked her hair and made cooing sounds, she started to sob. She sat down and continued stroking the first-year's back as the young witch cried her misery and anger out.

"It's alright. I know how it feels." Hermione said. "I used to practice writing with quills until late at night because I don't want to look bad in class."

The little witch looked up slowly, her nose had gone runny. "You do?"

"My parents don't believe in writing with quills when we've already invented pens."

"I know! Why do they have to be so…so…stupid!" She huffed with righteous indignation.

"Tradition," Hermione said with a sigh, "is the perfect excuse for anything you don't want to change. Now, the other thing you want to learn is cleaning spells. They're really very handy. Here, give me your hands."

With a quick twirl or three and a tap of her wand, Hattie's hands became clean again.

"Purgo."

"If you can do that after class or after doing your homework, no one can complain about your hands anymore. Here, try it after me. It's not that hard, actually."

Hattie was sceptical. "Really?"

"Yes, really. Come on, I'll teach you." Her reply was firm, leaving no room for doubt.

Hermione spent the next few minutes doing exactly that. She sat on the floor of a Hogwarts corridor with a first-year on her lap and teaching her the most basic of the cleaning spells. At the very least, it distracted Hattie enough from crying.

"There, it's not so hard, is it?"

The younger witch shook her head. Hermione smiled as she moved to stand up and helped Hattie up as well.

"Now remember, you can always practice your handwriting outside class. And if you're only drafting your homework instead of writing the final version, who would care if you still use pens?"

"But…" the first-year bit her lip in doubt.

"Seal your scrolls when you're done writing in them," Hermione told her. "I know a convenient sealing spell too. No one can open it without first unsealing it."

"Really?"

"Yes. Want me to teach you that one too? And the unsealing charm that comes with it?"

"Yes please!"

Hermione chuckled at her enthusiasm. "Alright, now pay attention…"

It didn't take her too long. Between Hattie's drive and her natural quickness, they made quick work of the next two spells too. Hermione made her practice on the contested scroll several times. Her enthusiasm when she'd succeeded was certainly gratifying to see. It wasn't too bad to be reminded that she enjoyed teaching too. She just hadn't been too charismatic at it back in her first round of Hogwarts years (again, she was too pedantic, and she didn't realise that not everyone had her drive and obsession with learning).

She wanted to attend her Astronomy class, but Hermione thought she'd be pretty disruptive to the class if she entered now, with Hattie Perks in tow. She was determined to see their Head of House, after all, because someone had to know about what was happening.

"What do you think about visiting the library right now?"

Hattie gasped when she realised that she was missing her class right now. "But I have to go to Potions!"

"And you're already a quarter of hour late. It's fine, we can get a letter explaining your absence from Professor Dexter later—because we will be meeting Professor Dexter after he finishes teaching his class. It's just too awkward for you to go in now."

She could see the younger witch wanted to complain at first, before she seemed to consider it carefully and then nodded. "I guess so."

They stood up, straightened their robes and readjusted their bags. That was when Hermione realised something.

"Oh, I'm sorry. I haven't exactly introduced myself before, have I? I'm Hermione Curie, fifth-year."

Hattie gasped and even left her mouth hanging open until Hermione closed it in amusement.

"You're—you're her!" The first-year said in excitement.

"I'm who?"

"You're Hogwarts' own Nightingale! You're the one helping to heal people from Grindelwald's attacks at the Ministry, right? I didn't read the paper, but the third-year boys and higher have been talking about it so of course we all know!" She said excitedly. Hermione found it hard to take it seriously, because she knew the Daily Prophet article had a slant. Alright, I have to admit that Tom knew something about media campaigns.

"Well, I know of the principle ways that muggle weapons can wound people, yes. I just thought that it's better to make sure that the front-line healers and nurses at St. Mungo's does too."

Hattie was still staring at her in silence, eyes wide. Hermione gave in to the urge to poke her button nose.

The first-year sniffed at that, but didn't stop the staring, even when she was poked for the second time. Her green eyes were as big as saucers. Hermione had to bite the insides of her cheeks and even hold her breath once to stop herself from laughing or just squishing the first-year in a hug. It was just…her hero worship was too cute.

"The ones saving people in St. Mungo's are still the healers and nurses, you know? I can't even do much because I'm still a Hogwarts student. Obviously, I study all the time. I can't be there like they can. I've passed on what I know, anyway." Hermione explained, though staring at the shining pair of eyes made her doubt how much had just gone through. Well, she had time enough to try to change that.

"So, what were your potion class about to cover today?"

"I thought we were skipping class?" Hattie asked in confusion.

"It doesn't mean I'm going to make you miss your lesson. I want you to still be able to answer any questions Professor Slughorn asks once you're back in his class." The brunette answered.

Hattie let out a long, disappointed sigh.

"Or, we can still get you to your potions class and I'll even make the excuses you need to Professor Slughorn. He likes me, so he'll listen even before we get an official letter about it." Hermione suggested with ease.

"No!" The girl yelped. "I mean, no, it's fine. We can certainly study together in the library!"

Hermione didn't hide her grin, though she did look away to make it less obvious. Her voice when she spoke up again was steady and dependable.

"Right then. So, where were we…ah, how far has Professor Slughorn taught you in Potions class? Also, I'd like to see your syllabus once we're in the library. I'll need to check all the material you've gone through."

'-

"Professor Dexter, we have a problem." Hermione said.

Orphne Dexter, mostly known to his friends and colleagues as Orpheus, froze when he heard the words.

He'd thought that his most recent transfer student had simply chosen to attend Filius' class than his for this afternoon, which was within Hermione Curie's rights as someone who was trying to blitz through almost two years' worth of classes in one. The teachers had checked her records and she seemed to be capable of it, so they gave her the permission to try. So far, he'd heard no complaints from the teachers whose classes she'd attended.

Seeing her walk into his class after it was done, with a first-year in tow and a serious look on her face brought him out of his relatively pleasant assumptions. Something was definitely up. Some of the other students were watching her curiously, but most had decided that they have better things to do, like trying to watch (spy) the Hufflepuffs practicing quidditch this afternoon.

"Please take a seat, Hermione, and you too, Miss…?"

Hermione turned to the girl beside her. "Perks, Professor. Hattie Perks."

The two of them took their seats. He didn't miss the way Hattie was holding Hermione's hand, or how she was sticking very close to her. She wasn't exactly clinging yet, but it was very close.

"On my way to your class this afternoon, I encountered an interesting scene…"

'-

"Excuse me—oh," Tom Riddle paused next to the doorway, black hair falling in well-formed waves. "I thought everyone was done. I'll wait outside."

"No, it's alright, Mr. Riddle. We were just finishing. You might as well take another seat." Professor Dexter replied. It was actually the polite and nice thing to do, because 'waiting outside' in the context of the Astronomy Tower was to walk all the way down the several flights of stairs to the bottom of the tower. If there was one thing the students of Hogwarts didn't lack, it was basic exercise.

Hermione had turned around at the sound of the hinges creaking open and was not surprised to see Tom there. She was sure that he knew she'd had another Astronomy class tonight, and thus wouldn't be free for any meetings this evening. He might just have more news he had to share with her right now.

"Those girls needed to be given a warning. I'll tell Albus about the one from his House." Dexter said again before turning to the first-year. "But even with that, I don't think I can give you any guarantees that they'll absolutely stop, Hattie."

Hattie Perks shook her head, her twin braids shaking with her, her face serious. "It's fine, Professor. Hermione taught me the cleaning charm, so my hands would never be dirty with ink again. She taught me other spells too! I can take care of myself."

Hermione could see that their Head of House was also struggling to contain the urge to beam at the little witch. The brunette looked away before their gazes met and they failed to control their laughter. Hattie would be displeased and it would be bad. She heard Professor Dexter speaking up again.

"Well, that's good to know. But do tell me if they try anything else, will you, Hattie? It's not just about you. Hermione might have known about them bothering you, but who's to say they're not bothering someone else? So, if you tell me about them, I'll be watching them more intently as well to make sure they're not bothering anyone, not just you."

"And you know you can always tell me," Hermione said.

Hattie's eyes were wide when she turned to Hermione. "Really?"

"Yes. Really. Now, here's Professor Dexter's letter to Professor Slughorn to explain your absence—be careful not to lose it." The brunette reminded Hattie that she hadn't taken the letter from the table yet. The first-year nodded and secured it in her bag.

"Thank you, Professor, Hermione."

"You're welcome, Hattie." Professor Dexter said warmly. Hermione gave pretty much the same answer.

"Thanks for your time, Professor."

"Oh, not at all, Hermione! I'm thankful that you'd thought to intervene, actually. It's not as if us Heads of Houses actually have a lighter teaching load than other teachers," he said wryly.

"I couldn't have stood by." She answered.

The professor snorted. "Many would have. 'It's just kids', they'll say, or 'it's not my business'"

"The only thing that evil needs to win, is for good to stand by and do nothing," Hermione replied, her voice grave. It caused her teacher to look up and see the weight she carried in her eyes.

"It's personal to you, isn't it?" He asked softly.

"Unfortunately." She replied. "But I'm sure I'm boring you with my certitudes, Professor and you have other things to do…"

It was after a few more words of assurance from the Astronomy teacher and leave-taking from Hermione that they finally left, with Tom giving a brief and polite goodbye as well.

The stairs down Astronomy Tower were fortunately wide enough for them. It was a little tight whenever Hermione stepped a little too fast that she forgot to fall behind Hattie, but it wasn't the steep murder devices that was tower stairs in most medieval castles. The slope was gentler, perhaps already made with rowdy first-years in mind. Hogwarts certainly was better planned and designed.

"You're one of the prefects, aren't you?" Hattie asked, turning around towards Tom. Hermione couldn't help holding the young witch's shoulder because stepping sideways down stairs wasn't what she'd call a safe idea.

"Pardon me?" Tom said.

"Hermione said that she knew two prefects. I think I've just found out that one of them is you."

Hermione sighed. "Alright. I should've introduced you properly. Tom, this is Hattie Perks. I came across her having some problems with her year mates when I was on the way to Astronomy. Hattie, this is Tom Riddle, one of my good friends and yes, he is a Slytherin prefect, as you can see from his badge."

Hattie beamed. "It's nice to meet you, Mr. Riddle."

"It's nice to meet you too, Miss Perks." Tom gave her a slight bow. He managed this even as they were walking down.

"Don't even try to curtsy on the stairs, Hattie," Hermione warned. The girl froze when she realised what she was doing, and Hermione let out a relieved sigh that she'd averted that potential accident. She did send Tom an exasperated look because he started it, but all she got out of him was an amused chuckle.

"You didn't tell me one of the prefects you knew is your beau!" Hattie said in stage whisper the next time Hermione accidentally fell into step next to her. She rolled her eyes.

"He's not my beau."

"He went to your class to find you. He's definitely your beau." She said this without a doubt.

Hermione could see Tom trying to hide his smile at the conversation. The brunette didn't even bother to whisper her answer. "I'm pretty sure I would know if he was my beau. There's just been no signs of it."

"Really?" Tom asked, eyes crinkling at the corners.

"Yes, really. We've never gone on dates," she pointed out.

"You've agreed to one this weekend." He said, providing countermanding evidence. "And there is still time for the rest."

She decided to just get straight to the point. "You've never asked."

"For a date? But I just did."

He was playing dense. She narrowed her eyes at him and smiled. "Oh, I don't know. I mean, if Evariste or Auguste or Daedalus asked whether they can call on me, I really would have no reason to say no."

She really owed Daphne for giving her all the proper pureblood terms for the closest thing they had to casual dating, which she was sure hadn't even entered the non-magical vocabulary in this era. Second point in her favour; she wasn't exactly the insecure Hermione from her youth. She'd never let her hopes and expectations on one wizard to affect her own plans and entire life ever again. Tom's eyes narrowed even as his smile stayed the same.

"Really?"

"You're supposed to ask her! Ask her right now!" Hattie hissed in a panic as she waved her arms wildly, unfazed by Hermione's occasional attempt to hold her whenever her balance seemed to be wavering. "Don't be a clod and mess this up!"

Hermione couldn't help it—she laughed. She was sure that the cough she heard from Tom's direction was him trying to disguise the same thing. Hattie was unamused by the teenagers not taking her seriously as she huffed and turned her backs on both of them.

"Taking into account Miss Perks' advice," Tom formally began, "would you allow me to call upon you, Hermione?" She half expected him to actually say 'my lady' at the end. He was that formal.

"Why, Tom, I thought you'd never ask. You most certainly can." She didn't hide the dry edge in her reply as she gave her reply in the poshest pureblood accent she could.

She counted it as a score on her side when she saw him covering his mouth with his fist, even if there were no outward sounds of laughter.

"You're both too slow," Hattie complained, still grumbling in front of them and determinedly not turning around. "I don't know what you'd do if I wasn't here."

Hermione had to hide her face in Tom's shoulder before she broke out in another peal of laughter.

'-

They both escorted Hattie all the way to Ravenclaw Tower, the girl proudly bidding her goodbye by the wide-open doorway. Hermione smiled at that—she was probably showing off who had accompanied her this afternoon. It must have been some sort of exciting adventure to her, to have skipped class with a fifth year. She closed the door to the Ravenclaw dorms and ignored the changing riddle on its surface.

"We need a headquarters." Hermione stated as they walked together down the hallway.

"I assume you were talking about the Society."

"Yes. I was about to talk about this before you pulled me into the meeting with all the Germans and I forgot about it. If we're going to be pooling all the information and be one of the primary hubs of coordination for the search, we'd need a permanent place to hang a large map of Europe on one of the walls and tack the results on. We'll also need shelves and shelves to keep any report and I don't see you wanting to share the Room of Requirement with them."

"Not really, no."

"So, it's going to be one of the spare classrooms, then." She surmised.

"Hogwarts has a multitude of them. I'm sure the castle can spare one. It's just a matter of talking with a house elf, telling them what we need and let them find one that fulfils the conditions we need."

"Alright, I'll let you pass that task to one of your minions." Hermione said.

"Minions, Hermione?" His expression was mildly disapproving.

"Friends! I mean, your friends! Merde, Tom, it's obvious what they are to you that I forget not to outright call them that sometimes," she said, ignoring his repressed grin. "Pardon my French."

"Of course. You said something about being one of the hubs of the search, but not the only one. Who were you thinking of sharing with?"

They were taking one of the grand staircases going down that would end right across the castle's exit to its grounds in three flights. There was no need to look for shortcuts right now, as they still had plenty of time. Hermione mulled over it carefully.

"It's not that I want to share, it's that I think it would be inevitable. Wouldn't the Ministry still want to show that they play a significant role in the search? They can't just let all the foreigners hog all the glory, right? And who are we? Hogwarts students? The embarrassment might be even worse. I'm quite certain the Aurors would be involved because of this."

"Or, they could have started a second search network," he posited. Hermione frowned.

"That's inefficient. I'm sure they'd want to know what the French and the Germans have found, for one, and it would be useful for us to find out where they've gone to and what they've found out."

"How about two search networks that's still connected and exchange information? One would be ours, the other would be the Ministry's. That would prevent overlaps in areas."

Hermione nodded at that as they made their way down stairs and more stairs. They passed students from different years going up on the other side. Recently reminded about her minor celebrity status in Hogwarts, Hermione could easily ignore their looks and expressions of interest in her direction.

"Now, we need to come up with a believable figurehead."

She saw his look of inquiry and answered him before he said anything. "Because the Ministry isn't going to take us seriously if they see that it's a group of Hogwarts students. Obviously, we now need a figurehead that we can work with, as opposed to someone stupid enough to try to take over the project from us. Someone who the Ministry can see as a dependable adult, someone they'd simply leave alone. Naturally, this means it has to be someone with some sort of proven track record."

"Merlin, Hermione, when you ask for something, you go straight for the sun and stars, don't you?" Tom said this with a tone of one who found it all to be a great lark—and was now wondering if they can up the challenge and go for the crown jewels while they were at it.

"Oh, don't pretend you don't do exactly the same thing." Hermione said without rancour.

They went down one floor without saying much, both too deep in their thoughts and considerations to converse, finding that it still suited them.

"Have you started charting?" He asked.

"There's just no time."

"You can drop two of your classes—"

"No," she insisted, "I'm sure I can turn a few of them into independent research and then I'll have more room to move without sacrificing my academic standards. I'm sure I'd have time this weekend. It doesn't mean I don't remember some of my rough calculations before though." As in, the calculations she'd made before she suddenly found herself in Hogwarts again, in a younger body and missing memories. Oh, and half a century back.

She turned to him, watching the placid dark blue eyes. "Why do you ask?"

"It's something you've raised yourself before." He said.

"Really?"

"Yes. How many people can actually kill Grindelwald? No, let's change the equation, because given time, effort and intense preparation on the field of encounter to tip the odds in our favour, we can earn ourselves a place within that set. Yet we know that's not what matters here. Now, how many people does the wizarding world believe can kill Grindelwald? And who are they?" Tom asked.

Hermione inhaled sharply. "Oh. I think I see where you're going."

"Yes. That would be our current conundrum. It would be easiest if we can get someone from that set, but the search itself would take time."

She sighed. It was too bad that Lockhart wasn't around yet. He really was a convenient catspaw when you need one. He certainly wouldn't mind being a fake front, and his skills were nowhere near a threat to them while the man had polished his credentials to such perfect shine that everyone else is taken in by the projected image.

To think that one day, I'd actually miss Lockhart. Life sure is strange.

'-

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End Notes:

Additional Notes:

Hattie Perks (OC): First-year Ravenclaw. A muggleborn young witch with light brown hair and green eyes, she hasn't adapted well to Hogwarts when Hermione meets her. Has the same last name as the witch that was missing from Harry and Hermione's graduating class, Sally-Anne Perks.

'-