Author's Note:
I'm feeling uninspired and that all that I write is crap. I have enough self-awareness now to know that it's probably just that wonderful mélange of mild depression and perfectionism at work, so I just decided to butt my head through to the end since I can still get myself to write even at half the usual speed whether it's crap or not. I just thought it's better for me not to lose my writing habits than fall into no updates for another year (I'm sure you guys don't want that, right?)
So yeah, here's my best effort, and you'd have to forgive me if it tends to be crappier than usual and if I have been a bit out of touch than usual. Not sure if I can get it better than this right now :/. But at least I'm still writing! Hooray for sheer cussedness, I guess.
'-
66 Life on Mars I
Merrythought has some final words. Hermione, Ceres and some Gryffindors, sixth-years and prefects. Two games of obstacle run. Melchior has a couple of messages to pass on to a few Housemates. Mordred also meets with Melchior. A practice between two Gryffindor prefects.
(Summary applies to both intermezzo chapters titled 'Life on Mars')
'-
Hermione was about to walk out of her DADA professor's door when she paused her steps. Something in her compelled her to ask, to turn back to face the white-haired witch. Perhaps it was the shade of old Hermione that was speaking now, the young woman who had not quite let her school friends go.
"You are friends with Minister Evermonde, aren't you? Have you talked to him recently?"
"I was once. I don't know if Archer ever forgave me."
"Why not?"
Merrythought took a deep breath. "I was a trigger. My vocal criticism started the avalanche of attacks that ended up crippling his political career. I was the beginning of the end."
She did not try to excuse herself. Hermione respected her more for that.
"Why would he forgive me?
"Because you're his friend? I'm not saying that he'd definitely forgive you. I'm only saying that you wouldn't know unless you tried talking to him again." Hermione said. What she'd give to be able to say goodbye to her friends. "Nobody lives forever, Professor. We never know how much time we have left with our friends."
The white-haired witch shrugged, but her expression was a little rueful now. "Speaking from experience, are you? Perhaps I'll do that."
"Thank you." A pause. And then, because she wanted to admit it no matter how difficult, she answered Merrythought's question through the heavy lump in her throat. "And yes, I was—a little."
Her professor's eyes were kind now, her touch on Hermione's shoulders was feather-light.
"You know you can always talk to me, don't you? Or any of the other professors. Orpheus would understand loss as well, if you want to chat with your Head of House instead—he'd lived through many of them already."
"I understand, but…I'm only slowly coming to terms with them recently too. What helps so far is staying busy."
"That, I can see," her tone was wry. Hermione chuckled.
"It's not that bad. I'm doing alright, I suppose. It's not the best feeling, but I'm not at my worst either."
"If you think so, then. Take care not to overwork yourself."
"Of course, Professor. Um, if you don't mind, I'd like to ask a question, possibly connected to your old experiences."
"What is it, dear?"
She bit her lower lip in thought, gathering the words she was looking for. "The scars over your left arm. Any wound immediately cleaned and healed by a field healer would not…have that intense scarring. That happens if it healed up on its own, more often with, well, questionable cleanliness."
Hermione was watching her carefully, but her professor didn't seem disturbed at all.
"There aren't that many healers in the field, Hermione. Field hospitals, perhaps, but they're too valuable to be risked."
"You could clean and heal most of it yourself…" she began.
"And then what? Use magic in front of the muggles? There are times when I could not get away far enough from scrutiny. To risk exposure in that case would mean to risk being taken away for breaking the Secrecy. My friends, the people I know…they'd be down one messenger, and one that could actually fly at night with night vision, at that. I couldn't risk that—couldn't risk them. Letting my upper arm heal mostly naturally wasn't such a big deal."
"I see."
The brunette did see. There were many things she would do for her friends, and she was not surprised to find out that her teacher had expressed a similar sentiment. Some things are worth their price, for other things are priceless beyond measure. She nodded once, feeling that she now carried even more hopes with herself and yet not weighed down from it. The young witch was ready to walk back to the Ravenclaw Tower when Merrythought called her back.
"Hermione?"
"Yes?"
"Be careful of gaining the disregard of Tasgall Travers; he has been the Undersecretary of Justice from before Archer's time. He has held the post intermittently, again and again, under different Ministers. There's a saying at the Ministry, 'Ministers may change, but Undersecretaries are forever'. It's not true half the time, but the saying exists for a reason."
"Umm…alright?" She was uncertain how to take it.
Well, she'll remember the wizard's name and post, but it wasn't as if she was worth the attention of any undersecretary. She was just a mere student with an extracurricular activity that was perhaps more well-connected than most.
"Perhaps I have harmed Archer's career, but I'm quite certain that Travers actually hated me—as much as his cold self would." Merrythought concluded.
"I'll keep that in mind, Professor Merrythought."
"Just be careful. That's all I ask."
'-
A week ago, Hermione was inside Hogwarts and yet she was walking on open fields of yellow grass and snow, interspersed with incongruous lavender blossoms following Ceres. A line of trees, cedar among others, hemmed in their open path.
"So, what's wrong?" Hermione asked. "Are you alright?"
Ceres kept her gaze straight ahead instead of turning to her, but the brunette could see the tightening of her jaw that told of heavier thoughts that she was trying to pull together. She didn't push; she waited.
One sharp intake of breath later and the blonde witch raised her voice,
"We lost Grenoble, Hermione! I…the wizarding enclave would survive, as it had done during the Wars of Religion, but the city is not just its wizarding side! Pip had family on the muggle side there too, not just out in the country!"
She faltered. "Now, to hear that it is an occupied city, like the rest of Vichy France is simply…"
Dammit. Hermione didn't remember the precise dates of major events in WWII. She'd known this day would come; she just didn't know when. Yet what could she do, even if she'd known? She was just one witch, one young woman against the machinery of state-commanded violence. The scale of the war and the distant theatres certainly meant that meaningful interference was out of her hands. Dammit, dammit, dammit! She felt helpless—she hated feeling helpless, and she was sure that Ceres felt the same.
The blonde's chin was tucked to her chest, the very picture of grief. Hermione was about to gingerly pat her before Ceres exploded in a flurry of movement, wand arm raised and moving in loops and cuts as she firmly cast, a streak of yellow escaped from her wand.
"Reducto. REDUCTO!"
The nearest tree had its bark was destroyed into pieces, and so did another one to their back. The bark closest to them was gone and the wood underneath it was still cracking. Yellow sparks still fell from her wand to the ground for a moment or two before ceasing.
Ceres met her gaze and what Hermione saw was an anger that would burn long into the night after other impetuous flames die out precisely because it was fed by sorrow. The Gryffindor prefect blinked rapidly, shaking her head to free herself of the maelstrom of emotions. Her voice was level when she spoke up again, her eyes clear even if the shadow in its depths was still there.
Hermione's gut feeling told her that perhaps that shadow would never leave her eyes again until the Second World War was truly over.
"I had to drag Pip to the infirmary the first time we heard the news; he'd punched the wall so hard without thinking that he'd broken his little finger." she shook her head. "He was so careless that he wasn't even watching his form there."
Her heart broke for her friend. She felt the cold burn of her own anger when she heard Hogwarts had fallen, she couldn't imagine how it felt hearing an entire city you know to be lost. "Merlin, I'm so sorry. I don't know what I can do to help… I know that there's really nothing I can say to make it feel better."
She laid her hand on Ceres' left arm, gingerly, hoping that she wasn't trespassing a private grief.
"Thank you. Thank you for trying to understand. It…helps, a little."
"So, what's our plan for today? We're going to try to burn this fake forest down?" Hermione tried for a little levity in her voice. The tension in Ceres' face actually lessened at that, even if her lips seemed to still be too awkward for a smile.
"No, not at all. Well, that was Pip's plan that I was about to go along with. Paul and Peter had a better idea."
"What did they say?"
"Ah, what did we say?" a third voice chimed in.
Hermione and Ceres glanced towards the newcomer who'd cast Aguamenti on the tree. The redhead in casual tweed, robes and boots was one of the Prewett twins. "Probably something like this, 'let's make the most challenging obstacle course you can think of, and you can take turns with us to lob spells at the poor unfortunates who have to run through it!'"
"Which clearly meant that unfortunate person is you some of the time," Hermione pointed out.
He shrugged, still grinning. "Of course, but it would be excellent training."
"Join us Curie, it would be fun, I guarantee you! Plus, we can get very creative once we have a healer here!" His every step was a little leap on its own, excitement overflowing as he soon overtook them in distance. He turned back when he saw that they weren't keeping pace.
"Come on! What are you waiting for?"
Ceres and Hermione shared a small smile with each other before they picked up their steps.
"I have to warn you that Pip had actually gotten into the spirit of planning this with Peter earlier. He'd been digging some holes around here at random."
"Don't worry, we didn't put spikes at the bottom," Paul hollered from the front. "We, um, might've filled it with slime, though."
"If there's anything I can't wash out, I'm blaming you, Paul," Ceres rolled her eyes.
He flapped his hand at her as he hopped on forward. "Sure, sure. No problem."
At the end of their path was Philippe Bernadotte—of course—whose expression was oddly serious, brow creased, as he read through a scroll that Verrault was also reading over his shoulder. Julia enthusiastically waved back once she saw Hermione. Her quidditch-player friend from Ravenclaw was also here, talking with the other Prewett twin who seemed to be intent on impressing the quidditch athlete. There was also two Hufflepuff prefects whose name she couldn't recall (again), awkwardly waving to her too and a few others she hadn't seen before.
One arm raised, the brunette waved back at them.
"It's good to see you here, Hermione." Amelia Bones hailed. She might've thought she did nothing unusual, but Hermione didn't think anyone with less lung power would've managed to do that across their still-significant distance.
It was rather interesting to see the fair head of Mordred Montmorency, in a set of black suit and robes that still felt too formal to her even if it was at least not the Hogwarts' uniform. He stood next to Julia with a crease in his forehead while staring at the motley crew assembled, his expression eloquently saying that he was wondering how on earth he was even here in the first place. Hermione thought she could relate to his confusion—she didn't think she'd ever see him without Emma and Oswin nearby. They were the trio of Slytherin prefects who seemed to have moved the Wizarding Society for Better Governance in step with Tom Riddle's aspirations.
It was a contrast to the pureblood not far from him (she can tell this from the cut of his waistcoat shaded like a sunset, and robes in matching tones but in lighter colours) who seemed content to simply sit at the bottom of a tree. There was a leaf on his head while his nose was stuck in a book next to Lysandra Burke who was doing the same…ah, she could see the family resemblance now. That would be her brother, then, the Slytherin Burke.
"How did you assemble the people, Paul?" Hermione asked.
"It was on a short notice, so this still isn't everyone we could think of, just people I know would be interested from my Advanced Defence II class, Pip and Ceres' prefect friends, or just people we met in the common room."
Well, that does explain Montmorency and Amelia—both of them were prefects. Hermione didn't think Lysandra would be that interested in unappealing physical exertion if her Housemates hadn't bodily dragged her from the common room before she relented.
"So, who's setting this up first and who would be running the gauntlet?" Hermione asked around.
"I'm just here to write everything down and watch over everyone," Lysandra hugged her book tighter, defensively. "I have a large pensieve so people can watch my memories together later."
"And I don't know how crazy you guys would get," Julia's quidditch player friend said with both of her hands raised. "I don't even take Advanced Defence! Based on the numbers with Hermione here now, I'd unbalance your team. I'll just be at the side with Burke."
"Fine. Now, let's split into two teams!" Paul enthused.
"I'm on Hermione's team!" Julia declared just as swift before she planted herself on Hermione's left. Her fellow brunette found no reason to disagree.
"Ah, sure,"
Bernadotte had looked up from his scroll and gazed at Ceres. "We'll have to be on opposing sides."
His blond prefect partner shrugged. "Alright, let's do that."
"Uh, why?" Hermione asked.
"Because I know how he thinks and he knows how I think. It would force us to be more creative." Ceres answered. She'd managed to put on a smile now, but the heaviness in her eyes were still there.
"It would force both of us to be better, Hermione" was Bernadotte's answer to her.
Hermione noted that Bernadotte's eyes weren't much different, his grin was sharper now—a little less kind or easy-going—and a quiet discomfort grew from how familiar the expression seemed to her. Perhaps she was merely fooling herself…
"Alright, as the healer here, I retain the right to veto on any of the traps or set up that I think are too dangerous, alright?" Hermione spoke up. "And no poisons or the like."
There were some mumblings from the twins, but they didn't disagree with her.
"Thank Merlin. Yes, please do that, Curie" Montmorency seems relieved to have found one sane person among all the Defence enthusiasts. The other Burke had closed his book and stood up, eyeing Hermione curiously. One of his eyes were slightly covered by a lopsided bang, but he didn't seem to even notice. She glanced up at his hair and restrained her reflexive wince.
"I think we haven't been introduced before, have we, Miss?"
Hermione shook her head, "I don't think so?"
Lysandra stood up in one smooth movement, book closed in hand. "Very well, then. Allow me."
She made the introductions between Hermione and her brother, one Balthazar Burke, Slytherin sixth-year. He bowed formally over her right hand.
"Enchanté, Mademoiselle." It would be far more impressive if his voice wasn't the tone of one who was generally mostly bored with the world. This was mostly routine for him. She didn't restrain her smile.
"The pleasure is mine, Mr. Burke."
"Balthazar, please. It would get confusing pretty quickly with two Burkes here."
The Hufflepuffs had come around too, along with the others she hadn't recognised at all. "So, how are we going to split ourselves?" Casimir asked.
"Well…"
"Each captain picks members in turns, obviously." one of the Prewetts cut in.
"And the captains are…?" Balthazar drawled. "Who is it? The Wonder Twins or les Français Fatals?"
Philippe rubbed his face with a hand. "You make us sound like some hero in a wireless play…"
The Prewetts seemed to open their mouths at the same time before closing it again at once, with a kind of synchronisation that could rival dolphins at a circus. It impressed Hermione. They seemed to find each other's eyes at the same time and sighed before speaking in half-sentences with each other that no one else could quite understand.
"We should…?"
"We should." A sigh followed this.
"But really, after all the arrangement…"
"Well, yes. But we really should, you know…"
"Have some sense, Mum would say."
"Yes," his brother nodded. "That's it exactly."
Their rather cryptic back and forth went on for a while more. She gathered after it ended that Paul and Peter really, really wanted to be the captains of the respective teams, but they deferred the position to Ceres and Philippe with what seemed to be a lot of effort on their part; Ceres simply watched them with amusement as they come to a decision, Bernadotte didn't seem to be aware of his two friends' pained expressions as Balthazar said something else to prick him.
Perhaps it was because the initial idea had been to help their friends channel their anger at their situation. Hermione had drifted to Ceres' team, simply because they'd been standing close together. The captains would pick team members in turn, and Philippe insisted rather quickly that the team that had Hermione would only get one more person from ADADA II, while the other team would get two more people who took ADADA II.
"Wait, I'm worth an Advanced Defence II student?" Hermione asked, askance.
"YES." Several voices answered her question promptly and immediately, shutting her up (and raising her eyebrows).
"We've seen your fights with Riddle, you know," it was Montmorency who said this, in a quiet voice she'd only realised was his after a moment. "Julia was kind enough to show it to us."
One of the wizards she didn't recognise whistled. He had the feel of a Gryffindor, from the self-confidence he carried himself with. "I saw that too. Mostly silent spells? Wow."
"Do you realise that you can probably sign up for the second Advanced Defence class at this point?" Paul asked, a little too excited for Hermione's own preference.
"Err, no thanks on that. Hard no, actually. I wouldn't be able to relax in class if I have to take a completely new class, and I want to relax more, what with my current schedule," she clarified.
The Prewett twins predictably sighed in disappointment. Hermione was unmoved by their puppy-dog eyes. Philippe simply rolled his eyes and moved on. Soon enough, who went to which team were sorted out for everyone. The students who took ADADA II were the first to be chosen out; on Ceres' team that would be Paul and Mordred, with Hermione counting as one too, while on Philippe's side it was Balthazar, Peter and Verrault. Everyone else were chosen after that.
"So, who goes first?" Philippe asked.
"Chifoumi?" Ceres asked.
"Oui." Philippe agreed, and it was decided over a game of rock-paper-scissors. Ceres won and members of the Pip's team did grumble as they had to move to the corner and let someone cast a smokescreen spell and a soundproofing charm around them. The rest started on their planning and terraforming.
"Excellent," Ceres clapped her hands together with clear anticipation in her face. She was looking a lot more like herself than she did some ten minutes ago. "Now, ladies and gentlemen, let's give them war."
Alright, I take that back, Hermione thought. Someone's clearly trying to work through their issues here.
'-
"Lysandra, why are you here? The planning process involves only our team," Paul said, confused. The witch with strong jawline and intricate black dress rolled her eyes. Two dark red flower pins with almost-black leaves adorned her hair. Not that Hermione could recognise the flower… (she ignored the slight guilt she'd felt for not brushing up on her flower language skills yet)
"In case my purpose has fallen out of your brain already, I'm an observer. Hence, I'm observing." Lysandra's answer was tetchy.
"But you can't tell the other team—"
"I'm not going to tell the other team, why should I even care of this entire messy competition? I'm only going to share my memories if anyone wants after everything is done. Please, refrain from treating me like an idiot and I won't treat you like one." She said, before proceeding to ignore him. "Onwards please, Ceres."
The Gryffindor prefect nodded and began their meeting proper.
"Well, Paul had begun to make all those lovely pits. Why don't we work on top of that?" Ceres started, with a smile as bright as sunflowers.
"But I made it with Peter; he'd know where all the pits are," Paul pointed out. The twins had agreed to split up to different teams too, for fairness' sakes.
"Do all of them have slimes?" Hermione asked.
"Around three-quarters of 'em… or a little less. Thereabouts, anyway."
"We can empty half of that and use the slimes in other traps. Just fill it with water in exchange." the brunette said.
Ceres nodded. "Great idea, we'll do that."
"What are we going to do with the slime?" Casimir asked, confused.
"Make an aspic ball with it." It was Paul who answered the question easily. His answer did tell her about how he managed to make those balls of cranberry jam she'd been pelted with when she walked into their booby-trapped corridor. Gelatine shells filled with jam. That's rather creative, actually…
"So, any volunteers to start making that while we come up for more traps?" Ceres asked. The blonde slipped on the mantle of leadership easily, a natural as far as Hermione was concerned. Casimir easily agreed volunteered himself for the task, along with another Gryffindor wizard Hermione that had expressed his admiration for Hermione's skills earlier. ("Name's Anand Patil, sixth-year. Same house as those two defence nuts," he gestured to a twin).
Paul peeled off along with them as a matter of course, as he was the one who was going to teach the others. Lysandra watched them all leave with mild disinterest before turning back to the meeting.
"Now, what else, what else…" Julia murmured. "Damn, the first thing that came to my mind were spikes, but that's dangerous."
"That's precisely where the challenge is," Montmorency said. "To find something that's hindering without it being lethal."
"I noticed that you only said lethal, not dangerous," Julia raised an eyebrow at him.
He seemed unperturbed. "Even a pit filled with water is technically dangerous. Hold people under the waterline for a while and they'll drown just fine."
The three witches all turned to him.
"Don't tell me that all of you thought a pit of water is completely safe," his tone was disbelieving.
"Well, yes, I thought the water is easily a drowning hazard," Hermione replied, "but that applies for children. We can trust everyone here to at least know how to keep their head above the waterline, right? It's not like we'll even make it that deep."
"I was merely explaining my choice of the word 'lethal'. Under the right conditions, everything can kill people." The blond wizard sounded a bit proud of that observation. Julia was giving him a suspicious side-eye while Ceres was clearly holding back a smile.
For all of his thin frame, black robes and bookish appearance, he stood straight and moved with an ease of someone who knew how to wield his own body in a fight. The contrast reminded her of talking to a sombre-looking vicar, only to have him enthusiastically showing you his collection of weaponry.
"You're not wrong," Ceres murmured. "Alright, so what's next if it's not spikes?"
"I'd suggest bees, but they're harder to handle," he mused.
"It's also harder to ensure that everyone does not get stung at anywhere near the fatal rate. It does go back to the fact that they're hard to control. I'm not really looking forward to anyone having anaphylactic shock today," Hermione gave her professional opinion on that. "So, let's please avoid that along with anything else that stings and bites."
"By the way, I have to ask, how do you even dig into a Hogwarts corridor?" The brunette asked.
"This isn't a corridor, not really," Ceres made a vague gesture to the room around them. "This is merely one of the upper galleries, but one that currently housed no major art pieces. The Prewetts also, um, manage to bring a lot of soil here from the Forbidden Forest. You can't dig any deeper than a metre down or so before you'd meet the floor, but it's enough."
A gallery would explain why the ceiling still felt high enough.
"They dragooned their family's house elfs, I bet," Montmorency said this in a bored tone. "This is Sunday—the house elfs at their homes are probably mostly free today."
Ceres shrugged. "I didn't go with them, so I didn't know. What I know they used is a mokeskin bag."
Hermione blinked at the realisation. That was…yes, you can actually do that with a mokeskin bag. She just didn't realise that someone would be crazy enough to do so. Apparently, she'd underestimated the Prewetts.
"I didn't feel any significant elevation as I walk…" she mused.
It was Julia who nodded with a realisation. "Ah, a relative of the disillusionment—a disorientation charm, but of a milder and more specific form. It doesn't affect the eyes and only shifts the direction of gravity slightly to make the incline less noticeable."
"So, back to our traps," Montmorency redirected.
"Ah, yes, traps…" Julia sighed. "What else could we use…"
"I would suggest filling a couple of pits with the carcasses of dead animals, but that would be unsanitary and I suppose not nice to do to your friends. My mother always said that it was what people used to throw on trebuchets into castles and forts during some sieges. It's an ingenious way to spread disease, really, when a cast spell has limited reach and certainly cannot penetrate a thick stone wall." Mordred mused, fingers rubbing his chin in thought.
"Ah, we can actually contact the kitchen elfs and ask them to pass us some fruits and vegetables that are going bad. It's not on the scale of carcasses, but it's good enough to be an annoyance."
Ceres and Julia were outright staring at him. He didn't even seem to be aware of the significance of their looks. Lysandra seemed oddly impressed.
Now Hermione understood why Tom told her that between Oswin and Mordred, it was Mordred who had the larger potential for generating damage.
"What does your mother do?" Hermione let her curiosity lead the way there.
The blond Slytherin actually looked a little awkward at the question. "Uh, research, usually on medical spells, sometimes checking other people's spells to figure out the mechanism, if something's too harmful or not, if we can modify them…"
"At St. Mungo's? Or is it one of those newer potions labs?" it was Julia's turn to ask.
"Err, not quite. She's in, well, government research."
Hermione didn't hide her interest. There was something about his description of his mother that made her profile immediately sounded familiar to the Ravenclaw. A) An interest in something that has a macabre edge (disease spread edging right into the art of plague creation and spread). B) Research on medical spells that's not in a hospital or a known laboratory. C) Government research.
"Your mother is an Unspeakable, isn't she?" The brunette asked.
Julia turned to her, eyes wide, and she knew she hadn't imagined the gasp she heard from Lysandra's direction. Yet Hermione's attention was still pinned on Mordred and as sharp as any scalpel. She could see the tic in his left eye and the aborted twitches of his hands as her eyes quickly took in his body language. He certainly wasn't a skilled liar like Tom (heck, no one she knew at Hogwarts so far could lie like Tom), and even if the changes seemed small to most people, they easily gave him away to her.
"Oh, relax. You don't need to confirm or deny. You're not the only one with some familiarity with Unspeakables. For me, it's enough that I know," Hermione said all this easily, with a smile on her face, even.
That only caused Mordred to rub his forehead. "My mother's going to kill me."
She only chuckled. "She won't if you tell her the full story. Anyone else wouldn't realise it if they weren't me."
"Right. So, rotten vegetables aren't a bad idea, but just how many do we need to carry?" Ceres asked.
"Just borrow Paul or Peter's mokeskin bag, then." Hermione pointed out.
"Great. That's settled then. I'm off to borrow it and head to the kitchen," Julia declared. "I think we're also better off if you make some new holes and bury one or two others, Mordy."
"Mordred, Julia, it's Mordred."
"Sure thing, Mordy." She winked at Mordred before walking towards Paul, her waist-long hair weaving down her back from where it was tied with a navy ribbon at the nape of her neck. The Slytherin rubbed his face yet again while muttering something about how being a prefect and helping your other prefect friends out was sometimes just not worth it.
"Her suggestion isn't a bad one," Ceres said as she turned to him. "Do you want to do it or do you have a better idea of what you could do? If you do, one of us could do that instead."
"No, it's fine," he answered. "I'll just do that. Just casting Defodio repeatedly isn't really difficult."
Julia went in the direction of somewhere to their side where Paul had apparently brought two cauldrons with him. Hermione watched him stand in front of one and gave instructions with a lot of gestures. Casimir went had gone off with one cauldron, possibly to collect some of the slime already in the pits (she recognised him by his Hufflepuff scarf). The other wizard stayed (Anders? Anil? No, something else…) while Mordred had set off in the direction of the same open grounds. He was probably trying to locate the pits and choose which ones are to be filled and where to put in one or two new ones.
Now, it was just Ceres, Hermione, and a fidgeting Lysandra.
"Now what?" Hermione asked.
"Got any ideas about the small forests?"
"I think I do have something… Let's see, most of the traps are going to be set over the open area, right?"
"Yes?"
"Is there a way to shift all the trees to one side, so there's one large forest to deal with than two smaller ones?"
Ceres tilted her head in thought, short nails taping her chin in thought. "We better ask Paul, but I think so."
"Great! Then we might as well make the forests outright impassable to funnel them away from it. I know what we could do."
'-
Given half an hour, between the seven of them, they did manage to set up a pretty challenging terrain.
"What in Tartarus is that?!"
Hermione covered her mouth with her hand to stop herself from laughing. Balthazar had been trying to sneak through one of the forested areas, only to almost tip himself into one of the shallower pits they had littered the forest with, filled with spikes of ice. It was uncovered, so it was visible from even ten metre away—Balthazar had missed the one in front of him because he'd been running. He was saved by his fast-enough reflex to use a fire whip and haul himself up and back to the hole's edge. The ice spikes weren't going to last forever, but they would last long enough to make movement through the forests' undergrowth to be difficult and slow.
That, of course, meant that the more reasonable alternative were the open plains between the groves of trees.
He backed off again, and she surmised that they were regrouping—or that Balthazar had been sent as some sort of scout in the first place.
'-
"Why are you here?" Peter wondered.
"It's interesting how similar you are to your twin. One might think that you share one brain that you use in turn." Lysandra wondered just as loud.
"Our plans would be useless if you spill them—"
"I won't spill them. What would I get if I do so, really?" She sounded vexed. "I'm much more likely to spill your blood if you annoy me too far, than to tell the other team about what you're doing!"
"Well, alright, then that doesn't sound so bad," the wizard replied.
"Lys," Balthazar said.
She took a deep breath. "I'm merely observing for the records, as agreed. Please, carry on."
Balthazar turned his attention back to Bernadotte. "Right. Well, as I've told you before, the forest floor is lined with makeshift moats, and they, in turn, are filled with spikes of ice. Not exactly something you want to fall on."
"Sounds like they're trying really hard to dissuade us from passing through the forest." Pip murmured as he gazed between the forested areas and the open ones.
"Which means that the other path is the trap." Verrault said.
"It damn well is a trap—they probably have the entire place trapped in half an hour." The Gryffindor replied.
"So, how are we doing this, Captain?" Balthazar drawled; his voice edged with insolence. His friends were so used to it that they simply ignored his tone most of the time.
Philippe turned around to face most of his team.
"We'll see, Balthazar. So, do we have any volunteers to go through the forest?"
"Over those ice spikes? Are you crazy?" The Gryffindor seeker protested to his Housemate.
"Technically, you can fly over them, Gervase" Amelia Bones offered. "I've seen you fly."
"Rather too late to consider getting extra equipment now, isn't it?" Verrault muttered, his arms folded.
"You'll be avoiding the spikes by flying, sure, but if I was on the opposition team, I'd be happy that you did that too," Peter commented. The redhead cocked his head to the side as he assessed the seeker with a clinical eye.
"Um, why?"
Peter turned to Ethel Macmillan. "My uncles hunt rabbits when we camp. You know what Gervase is? Ten times bigger than a rabbit and much easier to shoot at. He'd be sitting ducks through the forest—place isn't exactly manoeuvrable either."
Lysandra snorted but said nothing. A few others were giving Gervase pitying looks.
Gervase Laszki, short for his age, grimaced. "Bugger that! I'm not flying just to be a distraction for you guys."
"Are we to declare the forest impassable, then?" Balthazar asked, looking far too comfortable than one would expect for a Slytherin among mostly Gryffindors. Then again, he'd partnered with Philippe and Ceres often enough in Advanced DADA II. One supposes that he'd gotten used to merrily hexing and sending harm at each other after several months now that he was no longer concerned about it.
Philippe scoffed. "Of course not. Remember the basic principles of elemental transfiguration, and how it would be useful in battle—"
"Bernadotte, not everyone here takes the second advanced transfiguration class," Verrault cut through his speech, unimpressed.
Philippe sighed. "Alright, gather around then. Here's my basic strategy, though I'll take any feedback too…"
'-
Philippe actually split his team into two, to the surprise of Hermione and everyone else in Ceres' team. She'd expected him to just write off the forest as a loss.
Julia's post was near Hermione, so they could still chat. She'd been complaining at the beginning that Hermione chose to sit on one of the tree branches before she ended up casting Incarcerous at the tree trunk and then using the conjured rope to help her climb up.
"They're still going to try to pass through the forest?" Julia whispered.
"I have no idea what they're thinking," she answered.
Verrault was the one leading the half of the team going through the forests, which made Hermione guess that Philippe was leading through the plains.
The forest floor was pitted with holes, which were filled with very visible ice spikes that made going straight through practically impossible.
"Aguamenti!"
Verrault wasn't the only one who cast it; everyone else did too. Ethel Macmillan and Peter did the same. They cast it at the ice spikes.
"I don't think that's going to melt them," Julia mused in low tones.
Of course, that was when the other Ravenclaw prefect started to cast the next spell. "Glacia!"
"Oh shit." Hermione cursed. His team members looked like they had the same idea, though they still cast the spell to differing effectiveness—not familiar with the spell, then.
"Julia, get some of the slime-filled balls from wherever Paul kept them and start hitting them now. Cast Glacia after, just like we've talked about."
"Right. Is that by way of trebuchet or…?"
"Whichever hits them best."
Julia made a sound of assent and leapt down to locate the slime ball stashes. Verrault's team had managed to freeze over a flat surface over the pits and they were now casually testing the surface. Hermione cast a ball of silence around her before she jumped down from the tree. Making her way behind bushes and trees, Hermione whispered three Blasting curses, without abbreviating the movements (Confringo. Confringo. Confringo!)
Three fireballs left her wand in rapid succession and headed right at the newly-frozen surface. She'd ducked and moved away immediately even as she reflexively cast a shield to stick at a fixed radius around the tip of her wand. Peter's answering hex and Verrault's curses landed nowhere close to her. Before they could start trying to locate her, the first slime ball had been flung from the edge. Peter had leapt to the side, but Verrault had been too intent on locating Hermione that he'd noticed it too late—he dodged, but his left side was still splattered with slime.
Second and third ball came in close succession but Peter was aware of the attacks now.
"Protego!"
He'd raised a large-enough shield in one direction for all three of them. Ethel was rushing through the Freezing Charm and was sloppier in her work than either Verrault or Peter. She must've only learned it now. Hermione could see it clearly.
The two slime balls splattered harmlessly on Peter's shield.
Hermione stood up behind a tree and started casting the moment she saw another slime ball was coming. Peter hadn't put up a shield yet—Verrault did that. The redhead was throwing hexes and jinxes in the direction the slime ball came from.
"Aguamenti Maxima!"
Hermione ducked immediately once the spell was done and the water deluge happened. She didn't have time to check on what sounded like Julia's yelp. It was enough that the other team was still hemmed in on the other side while she had a wider range of mobility. She started casting freezing spells in their direction. One hit Verrault. Peter was fast enough to use Verrault as a shield. Ethel was hit by Julia's freezing spell, and considering that she was as sopping wet as her two team members, it didn't help.
Like any fire spell, a freezing spell was one that you cannot easily undo with a finite—you'd have to reverse the actual physical process manually. It was why Hermione still preferred the elements more than other people's hexes and jinxes, unless it was the more serious or complicated hexes and jinxes (that, and because she was a transfigurator in the field; the spells were etched in her mind and came easily to her).
Julia was piling up more and more freezing spell on Ethel while also casting it on Peter whenever he extended any body part too far out. Hermione had been doing the same against Verrault. They were winning, of course, because as more ice piled up, it became even more difficult to move the wrist or arm to cast any spell. When no more attacks seemed to be forthcoming for a while Julia came out of the tree line a few metres away, her wand in her left hand since her right arm was now…a wing, covered with feathers that are mostly grey.
Both Julia and Hermione were still on the other side of the shallow pits that were now water-covered instead of filled with ice spikes.
"You can't hex both of us at once, Peter." Hermione said as she projected her voice some five metres farther than she actually were. "Give it up. You're down two teammates against two of us."
"She's down her wand arm," he pointed it out.
"I can cast with my left hand too. It's not as good as with the right, sure, but I can do Confringo alright. You want to test that?" Julia said, her left hand was actually steady as she aimed her wand at him.
Hermione also had her wand pointed at Peter the moment Julia began to speak, beginning the casting of a silent Stunning Spell. The build-up of the magic made her wand vibrate and the wood warming, but she held it in and still didn't quite finish the movement. Wait for it, she thought. Wait for it…
"Well…" the redhead mused out loud but.
She took the chance and did the last loop and flourish to finish the spell when she saw his head leaning forward out from behind Verrault.
"Stupefy," she whispered along with the final flick, before quickly starting the same spell again to be safe.
Her first shot was good. He was down even before she finished sending the second stunning spell. She cast it anyway, just to be sure.
"Hermione!" Julia was certainly surprised. Hermione walked out from behind her trees.
"What? We didn't say we'd not attack him. Did he hear us asking for parley? Did he ask for a parley?" Hermione barely blinked as she said this.
She'd picked it up from Harry, of course, from when he'd had to face some run-of-the-mill nutjob with a wand and a hostage. Someone might be trying to talk the person down, and yet at the same time, there'd be more than one Auror who was waiting behind the negotiator, looking for a clear shot.
Her teammate sighed but only rubbed her face…or it would've been rubbing her face if she didn't have a wing instead of a right arm. Julia let out a long exhale of breath before she spoke up.
"Could you please help with my arm?"
"Sure. Just let me defrost our friends across the pit there and stun them."
"I'll go with you."
'-
As Hermione and Julia floated their three unconscious prisoners down to the other end of the converted gallery, they saw pits with frozen over contents as well as those with rotten and half-rotten vegetables and fruit. Hermione wrinkled her nose while Julia covered her face. Oddly enough, there was a half-clean Casimir and Amelia sitting by one of the pits, just chatting.
"You're both…?"
"Technically dead and out of the game," Amelia Bones answered this with a roll of her eyes. "No thanks to him."
"What did you do?" Julia's gazed moved from Amelia, to Casimir, back to Amelia again before moving on to the wizard once more several times.
"I, uhhh, tackled her right into one of the vegetable-filled pits while yelling 'self-explosion'?"
"You did a suicide run," Hermione was unimpressed.
"I…guess?"
"That's not an 'I guess'. That's a yes." Her tone had gone down by at least ten degrees in temperature. "That's not a good move and we'll be having Words about it after this, do you hear me?"
"Y-yes?"
"Good. Don't forget that. Your move's only effective in the short run, but it removes a team member from your friends permanently. Not a good move." She was staring at him through narrowed eyes and Casimir shrunk a little further into the large Hufflepuff scarf wound around his neck, turtling in.
"Alright. I heard you."
Hermione sighed and shook her head. "Just…later. I'll probably need to talk about this with everyone else too. Where's everyone? Up front?"
"Yes, up front." Amelia answered with ease. "If you're here, that means everyone is now done. Let's go."
Hermione and Julia moved on again, three unconscious students tethered with ropes and floating behind them. Amelia and Casimir took up the rear, and they headed onward to the other end of the gallery. A limping Gryffindor whose name Hermione hadn't quite remembered soon joined them with a sigh after Hermione de-jellified most of his legs.
"Damn, is it always like this? I didn't think Advanced Defence was even this vicious!" (Andy? Aaron? …oh, never mind. I'm pretty sure his last name is Patil. He's probably Padma and Parvati's father or grandfather).
"Welcome to the professional level, then," Julia replied, offhand.
'-
"So, who managed to pass?" Hermione asked the group of feathered, tarred and furred people at the other end of the gallery. Julia pulled the unconscious people behind them down and Patil went to help her.
"I did." Philippe answered proudly, even as he occasionally sneezed a feather. On the outside of his left eye socket was a purplish hue.
"And Gervase." It was Mordred who said this, and he looked disgruntled. His legs from the knees down were covered in tar. It looked like one of those things that doesn't disappear from a quick dispelling either; wow, someone's creative with their quasi-conjuration, was what she thought. Hermione turned to the mentioned sixth-year Gryffindor and did a double-take.
He was on the short end of average and compared to other sixth-years, and reminded her a little of Harry that way (even if Harry had grown a bit more after Hogwarts). That wasn't what drew her attention—or everyone else's for that matter. It was the mass of dried grass practically covering him from head to toe, and underneath that seemed to be…
"Is that mud?" Julia asked, disbelieving.
"I couldn't think of anything else on a short notice and seriously, the way everyone else starts slinging spells scares the shit out of me, alright? I thought I might as well make sure that nobody can see me and then see if I can just crawl my way to the end."
Hermione couldn't help her snort, which in turn became the trigger for Paul to chuckle. Balthazar too.
"You could've used some notice-me-not spell." Balthazar said.
Gervase shook his head. "I'm not risking a Finite Incantantem."
"You still would've been out if any of us had seen you," Mordred's lips curled in dissatisfaction as he said this. The blond wizard seemed to take Gervase's passing like a personal failure.
"Sure, but none of you did, right? Right." Gervase scoffed. Hermione couldn't tell his hair colour under all that mud and straw. She started to cast Scourgify at him. "Balthazar's fake copy fooled you all."
"I'm good at making human simulacrum." Balthazar's comment was smug. Rightfully so, she supposed, if that had allowed Gervase to pass.
"Yeah, a pass is still a pass." Philippe insisted, one arm swung proudly over Gervase's shoulder, while another over Balthazar, who did look heavenwards at this gesture but didn't move away either. Hermione was more concerned at what seemed to be a long scratch over the shorter Gryffindor's arm after most of the mud was gone, and asked him to raise his hand a bit so she could try cleaning and healing that.
Amelia, on the other hand, had started reviving her stupefied teammates. Peter woke up cursing as he realised where he was and how the entire run was done.
"We failed? Tell me how bad we failed." Peter begged Amelia.
"Well, only two out of seven isn't a bad record for us." Hermione said this as she glanced at Ceres. She blinked when she realised that there was a darkened bruise on the left of the Gryffindor's jaw.
"Yes," Ceres agreed.
"And the second only by accident. Yes, it's a good record." Mordred nodded.
Gervase squawked at that dismissal, but one of Hermione's other teammate (Andy? Anton? Anand? Patil) spoke up faster. "Oh, just ignore him, Gervase. He's just a sore loser."
Ethel Macmillan sneezed. Jan Verrault brushed the last of frost from his shoulder as Amelia cast warming charms to all three of her teammates, even if Peter insisted that he didn't need it as he hadn't been frozen, just knocked out.
"I am not a sore loser. I'm on the winning side." Mordred's didn't raise his voice, but the tone was as firm as steel.
The Gryffindor snorted. "A sore winner, then."
"There's no such thing—"
"We won, Mordy, drop it." Julia was now standing right next to him, her arm in his and her wide, wide smile was as friendly as a crocodile's.
"It's Mordred."
"So, does everyone want to move to the next round immediately or do you all want to break down what happened now?" Ceres asked instead in a more stentorian voice, over the background sound of Julia needling Mordred and further grumbling from him. "Professor Merrythought always insisted that a post-fight analysis is most useful when it's fresh."
"Yes." Philippe answered.
"Do we want that, though?" it was Paul who raised the question, glancing to both Ceres and Hermione. "That would give them a better look at our preferred spells and styles. Not a good thing to let them figure out just before they set their traps."
"Which is why we'd like to have that analysis now," Verrault agreed.
Philippe groaned and Hermione didn't bother to stop her chuckle. Peter was also giving Verrault a disappointed look while clicking his tongue.
"Jan, you idiot." The Frenchman cursed.
"What?"
"I think what Philippe meant is that you shouldn't have showed your hand just now. Obviously now that we know it would advantage you, our team is clearly…"
"Reluctant to agree to it." Ceres finished Hermione's sentence. "Oh, let me just be honest with you: Our team's answer to that is no."
"I still suggest a break before we begin again. Fifteen minutes at least, maybe half an hour."
"Agreed." Philippe's answer was quick even as he pulled bits of grass and leaves from his own long braid. "We all need to recuperate and maybe snack a bit before my team can consider setting up our own traps."
"That would give them an hour of rest." Verrault disagreed.
"I don't care. We need our rest too and we can't manage the prep without a break. Let's break, people! Now, did anyone bring some food…"
Hermione on the other hand had a different focus.
"Alright, so who had tried what spell to remove what effect and who still can't remove theirs?" She asked, found a comfortable looking tree stump, and waited for her patients to start making their way towards her. "Also, I'd be glad to tell you what traps my team had considered and discarded as being too risky. Just so you get an idea of what's probably too dangerous and what is not."
'-
"Hermione! Pssst! Hermione!"
Once she'd finished fixing up everyone (well, mostly), she hadn't even managed to lean back before Julia came skulking around.
"Oh, just take a seat, Julia."
"So, did you ask about how the fight in the plains went down?"
Peter had handed a picnic mat to her earlier, to use in lieu of a first aid tent. Hermione felt so spent that she simply laid down on it now, staring at the fake autumn sky above her. Julia's face popped up at the edge and she sighed.
"I didn't have time. I have to heal everyone remember? I also outlined which traps are generally dangerous and should be avoided. Then I directed the few that I can't fix properly under our limited time frame to Madame Edelstein. She'll understand if anyone would say Advanced Defence practice."
The other Ravenclaw had taken a seat next to Hermione on the mat.
"That's not it! Sheesh, you didn't ask the details so you didn't know…"
"Know what?"
Julia handed her two sandwiches. Hermione accepted it gratefully with thanks as she moved to a sitting position to start eating the tuna one first. The other one seemed to be salami and cheese. Never forget to eat, had been one of the field healer's primary principles in the field that Hermione followed religiously. Never forget to refuel.
"Bernadotte and Ceres actually got into a fistfight."
"What?"
The fifth-year had pulled herself up in disbelief. Julia simply nodded. "Bernadotte got a disarming spell in at Ceres, cast a shield spell behind him and then he simply started sprinting. He was so close to the end, you see. She ran up to him before tackling him and punching him in the face."
"…wow."
"I know, right?!"
"But where was Paul?" Hermione tried to figure out who he would be facing at that point. She and Julia were out in the forest, and so was Casimir, Amelia and Patil since they met them around the middle of their journey, which meant that they were taken out around the middle stretch of the gallery. Other than Ceres, that would still leave Paul and Mordred.
"Ducking and trying to clear his sight. He caught squid ink straight to the face."
"Ouch."
"Philippe is good runner, so even if he dodges once in a while, he's still pretty fast. So, when he was nearing the end, Ceres tackled him and punched him, at least twice, I hear. Then he started punching back. Mordy was chasing after them and then Laszki pops out from nowhere and sent a giant snake to bind her."
Julia paused to drink her glass of water.
"Paul catches up. I think he was the one holding off Balthazar and that was why he's only free now. Mordred banishes the snake from Ceres before casting some hex forward, but it was too late! Bernadotte was over the finish line, behind the boulder made to mark the place. Laszki stumbled from the hexes and jinx cast his way, but even when he fell, he was already more than halfway past the line, anyway, and then Philippe dragged him over in no time. That was how the two of them managed to finish the course."
Hermione listened to all this while her mind tried to track down the movements of the two teams and tried to conjure what had happened in her mind. She nodded to herself as Julia finished her retelling.
"Thanks, Julia."
Her friend beamed back. "You're welcome."
Hermione stood up at that point and methodically swept her skirt and robes. "Now, we're going to have lunch with everyone and break down our own performance."
Julia sighed. "Must we? Now?"
"If we want to be better next time, yes. Besides, we need to move to the beginning spot sooner or later."
'-
Their team had gathered at the beginning spot now, with Ethel Macmillan waiting for everyone to gather up before she apologised for the Smokescreen Spell she was going to have to cast (and probably recast too). Almost all of them assured her that they would be fine, really, and she should just go ahead. This end of the gallery included a door to a toilet and a linen closet, so it was far from inconvenient (the stairs had migrated away again at this point, and won't reappear in another, hmm, four hours or so).
The same way that Lysandra had shadowed their team's preparation of the field, this time, she was shadowing Philippe's team in their preparation. Thus, the Gryffindor in the black dress wasn't with them this time.
If she was honest, it was rather funny to see Ceres' expression turned reluctant and dreading the moment Hermione said that it was time to review their performance this turn.
"Urgh, I know. I shouldn't have wrestled him, should I?"
"Um, why not?" Hermione sat down at the large picnic mat that seemed to have been spread there. Her reply seemed to have surprised some of her team members.
"Because Gervase managed to get a hit in when she was too occupied with Pip?" Patil said, askance. Mordred certainly agreed with him. The two of them were a contrast; where Mordred was blond, he was black-haired. Where Mordred's attire was sombre, his was stylish—just add a jaunty hat and she can imagine him strolling along a pier in wizarding Casablanca, or someone straight out of Bollywood. She can easily surmise that Patil was one of the more popular students in Gryffindor.
"Yeah. Rather reckless, that." Patil opined.
"Ah, but you saw him going down earlier, right?" Hermione asked. Ceres, Paul and Mordred nodded at that as they exchanged glances.
"And we all know now that Balthazar actually constructed a decoy not long after that. Who, here, even suspected that the fallen Gervase that they saw on the ground wasn't real?"
Nobody said a word about that.
"It was a little odd," Paul mused. "But I'll have to admit that the details are very good. Didn't even cross my mind that it wasn't Gervase."
"So, everybody thought that he was down and out." Hermione stated, going around trying to meet everyone's eyes to ensure that they were on the same page so far. "That meant Ceres acted with the then-knowledge that Philippe was the last and only person that had reached that far. Her decision isn't exactly playing it safe, but it's not as foolish as it would be if nobody could spot where Gervase is at that point either. In that case, you'd know, he's still out there and you'd be more careful."
"We can only judge the decisions made based on the knowledge known at that point, not what we know later. Ceres had been disarmed earlier," Hermione nodded at her. "And whether she tried to find her wand first before going after Philippe again or to face him without her wand…both has risk, and at that point neither choice is too obviously wrong."
"What we can do, is check the decision before that, as well as make a plan as to how we're going to counter Balthazar's ability to create decoys."
Hermione might not be in the field regularly like Harry or Ron, but she'd joined them from time to time, enough that she was familiar with the structure of their usual post-op briefing and suggestions for future improvements; this was what she followed. When she faltered or paused in her thinking, it was Paul who picked up the next thread of inquiry or saw where the root of the current problem or topic came from.
"Yeah, I think other than Amelia who got knocked out of play by Casimir's self-sacrifice right into a covered, vegetable-filled pit, their entire plains-team seems to have good luck—they mostly managed to avoid falling into any of the dug pits." the redheaded Gryffindor concluded.
"And nobody here is going to use Casimir's tactic in the future. We don't want anyone to get used to thinking that their lives are expendable, alright?" Hermione stare was unyielding, and Casimir seemed to have shrunk into his coat and wrapped scarf; a turtle retracting his head into his shell.
"Uh, yes. Understood, Hermione…" The Hufflepuff murmured.
"Then what, nobody fell into any other pits?" Julia asked.
"Gervase fell into one of the water-filled pits. It's too bad that Balthazar had a good grasp of the Seize and Pull charm. He cast that and pulled Gervase out soon afterwards." Ceres answered, her expression unsatisfied.
"What spell is that?" Patil wondered.
"Oh, you'd get it in both the Second Advanced Defence class and at the end of Advanced Charms. Attending either one would do." The blonde Gryffindor gave the answer. "Still, this means that we've overestimated just how effective the pits would be."
"Not exactly," Julia said, in-between finishing her rice pudding. "I've learned that spell in Advanced Charm last year, but I wouldn't have been able to use it instantaneously without fail in such a situation. I lack the practise. I mean, how many people here don't know the Seize and Pull spell, or haven't practised it recently?"
The Ravenclaw raised her own arm as she asked the question out loud. Hermione didn't, but she saw that a little less than half of their team had raised their hands. Julia's expression was rather blasé when her head turned to Hermione.
"Why am I not surprised that you can cast it?"
Hermione gave a helpless shrug and a smile at that.
"Well, alright, I forget that our team has more people from Advanced Defence classes in general," Julia admitted. "In an average group of sixth-years, I'd only expect around a third of us to be able to cast it."
Ceres sighed. "Which still amounts to the same thing as Pip's team has roughly the same ability. The pits are probably not that effective when half of your opponent can easily haul their friends out."
"It's fine. You live and learn, don't beat yourself up over it." Hermione patted her hand.
"Yes, we can go through the previous run later. It's more important to think for our next run now," the redhead said as he pulled them all back on track. "At least we know what they won't have—pits, because they're easier to handle than we expect."
"With the current team configurations," Hermione added. Paul nodded.
"Yes, with that."
"So, what do you think we need to prepare for? A separate plains and forests course like what we did?" Ceres asked. Mordred raised one hand politely, and he only spoke once Ceres nodded.
"If I may ask, whose work was it to set the forest with moats of ice crystals? It's so…"
"Ingenious!" Paul said.
"…intimidating," the blond Slytherin finished, the corner of his lips twitching slightly. "But yes, it is a great work. The moats with ice spikes had proven to be an excellent barrier."
"It was Hermione's." Julia announced this firmly and with pride, something that Hermione found a little puzzling… And now everyone's gaze had turned towards her again, in various shades between perplexity and wonder. She held back the urge to fidget under all the attention.
"It's not that big of a deal—"
"Practically all the ice crystals are hers. I haven't managed to make them quickly enough or large enough," Julia cut in. "Neither could Casimir when he volunteered a little near the end."
"I don't think most people would manage to fill the entire forest floor that quickly." Paul said, his scrutinising gaze had a touch of envy in it for a second before it melted away into something more genuine. He congratulated her sincerely. "Great job, Hermione."
She bit her lip and almost said it was nothing much again if she didn't feel Julia's side eye on her. She remembered Daedalus' complaint about not being able to accept a compliment and Hermione gracefully backed down.
"Thank you. Well, it wasn't completely impassable, but it would do." she said.
"Which is why I don't think they'd try to do the same as we do. It's not exactly easy. My guess is that the plains would take centre stage, and if I know my brother, he'd probably reduce the amount of forest and tree cover." the redhead finished, while Hermione had to hold back the urge to straighten his lopsided tie or to start casting Scourgify at him. "It simplifies the trapping process when there's just one type of terrain to deal with."
"So, for starters, let's see…"
Paul pulled a blank scroll from his bag, moved the picnic basket over and shuffled some plates before he unrolled it. Quill in hand, the planning for the next stage began for Ceres' team.
'-
When the smoke from the smokescreen spell around them dissipated instead of being continuously renewed, everyone in their team knew that it was time for them to run the obstacle course. Paul leapt up to his feet with such speed that one might suspect him to be spring-heeled.
"Well, about time! I was getting bored here." He dusted his hand and stretched.
They all stood up with varying speeds, and Hermione walked forward without concern. The area near them was more open now, and so she was quite certain that none of the opposing team was in hiding nearby—there was no place to hide in, and there was the agreement of not trapping the first five metres of the gallery.
Instead of a forested area and an open plain like their previous setup, most of the place were open plains, with the occasional clusters of trees here and there with large enough boulders. Hermione instantly marked those as the other team's hidey-holes, especially considering that they were placed almost evenly all over the field. One might assume that they were purposefully-placed to shield ambushers…
What was even more surprising were the horizontal ditches roughly dug at intervals in front of them, mostly parallel to each other.
"From which circle of hell is that?" Paul was the first to complain as he walked not far from Hermione's left. "How are we supposed to get to the end?"
"Don't tell me we're supposed to climb down and scramble up each ditch?" That was Julia following up.
"Certainly not." Mordred's tone was supremely unamused. "If we go down one, they'll easily hit us from a nearby copse of trees. Perhaps they can even do so from behind those boulders at the bottom of those trees. Those are some rather strategic arboreal emplacement. I'm not crossing any ditch with trees pretending to be friendly nearby unless I've burned them to a crisp."
"Hear, hear." Patil was surprisingly as pyromanic as Mordred this time. "I'll help you with that. I saw some bottles of oil in the Twin's stash. We can use that."
"Everyone, please, we're not burning anything without a plan." Casimir tried to uphold the peace.
"Of course. Let's plan where to direct the lines of fire," the Slytherin replied instead.
The Polish wizard was clearly rubbing his forehead before he raised his voice a little. "Gentlemen, not everything has to be solved with arson…"
Hermione tuned the voices out for a bit, her forehead creasing. She hadn't said anything yet because something about the earthworks tickled her mind. It felt oddly familiar. Never mind, I'll remember it later if it was that important.
"Alright, people, we're not going anywhere yet without a plan." Ceres announced, and the chatter fell at the sound of her command. "Let's back up a little and figure out how we're going to handle this."
'-
.
.
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End Notes:
And here is the longer detail of what happened when Hermione met Ceres earlier, now you get to see it in its longer glory. Time frame is shifted a bit earlier for now before we continue on from the point in time when Hermione took tea with Merrythought. Next chapter will probably be up in two weeks because I'm almost done writing it.
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Additional Notes:
Mordred Montmorency (OC): Sixth year Slytherin prefect, cousin to the French Gryffindor Maximilien de Montmorency. Mordred is a notable member of the Wizarding Society of Better Governance. Like Oswin, Mordred is glad that Tom Riddle was dependable and capable prefect because he willingly eased back from most speeches and crowd-rousing responsibilities Tom stepped forward to assume them himself. He's quite aware that he's a rather cerebral person that fails to display the appropriate amounts of sympathy and empathy to other people, and is better at the administrative and technical side of his prefect duties. He is not aware that some of the interests that he shares with his mother sounds a little hair-raising to most people.
Paul Prewett and Peter Prewett (OC): Sixth-year Gryffindors, the redheaded twins are both beaters on the Gryffindor House's quidditch team. The classes they took are Advanced DADA II and Advanced Transfiguration II, among others. Their family has a strong martial, anti-dark magic bent, with many Aurors in the ranks, which meant they had put in many hours of duelling practice at home, and they would gladly teach anyone who wanted to know more or be better. They're very good friends with the French transfers Philippe Bernadotte and Ceres Victorinus. What they can't always get is when someone might not be too interested in DADA.
They have had points taken from them due to what some prefects consider as booby-trapping Hogwarts corridors and what they consider as 'teaching their juniors constant vigilance!' All for the good cause of helping improve their awareness and reflexes.
Tom calls them the defence fanatics.
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