Moody's magical eye looked all over the young witch's magic, seeing that her core seemed suspiciously completely mature. It was the main reason why they had made the joint decision to go ahead with their plan. Potter was still a boy, and Granger was still his year and should have still been just a wee lass. Her core was mature however, which meant that she was an adult, and it would be she who would have to be ready.

The old wizard decided to speak first, "What you need to know is the identity of some of our spies. That'll be debriefed tomorrow. As soon as the bastard comes back, the Order of the Pheonix will be back. Crouch here isn't an official spy, and took a damn good convincing for me to believe him. But he took veritaserum and I know you can't lie around that. I knew it was the real deal instead of water, because I tested it out myself. He also… took an unbreakable vow. And he's still standing, so I trust him, and I'm sure I'll be in hot water with your headmaster later on."

Barty took over, "What you also need to know is how to fight and protect yourself and others and well… wards. We bought you three books, we expect you to read them and practice some of what's written. Most wizards and witches can't make heads or tails of what's written in these books because they don't understand wards. But you're smarter than most witches and wizards… And you have an innate affinity for wards, and it should come in handy during the war. One of the books we would prefer if you read in our company. It's… it's a dark book."

Hermione blushed and looked at the floor at that. It did not go amiss by either wizard.

"Lass?"

"I uhm… I've… I've taken Harry's cloak a few times to read in the forbidden section. I also got a pass in second year from Gilderoy Lockhart to take out a book from there. I've… I've read dark books before."

Surprise flashed across both wizards' faces. Being able to read about the dark and not practice it was a good sign. Even better now that they knew they didn't have to worry as much as they had been when buying the damn expensive book.

Crouch decided to push on however, knowing they had limited time until someone became suspicious of the young witch not being in the library.

"Lass, how old are you? Really?"

Hermione looked confused and tilted her head to the side, her lips pouting a bit.

"Your core. With Moody's mad-eye we can see your core is mature. We have to look really closely and put quite a bit of magic into it, but we could see it. It doesn't mature until a wizard or witch is 17 in age, making them an adult."

"Oh. In third year I had a time-turner for classes. I kept track of the time spent and I made sure that I did it exact so I would still have my own technical birthday down to the last second. It makes arithmancy easier. I used it enough so that I would turn 17 this year."

The way she said it was so offhandedly, as though it was normal. Time-turners were very hard to get, and students and their professors had to cross a lot of red tape to even get one for a week, let alone a whole school year.

Crouch squinted at her to make sure he was seeing her correctly.

"The glamour on your teeth?" Moody asked.

Hermione blushed and brought her hand to her mouth before removing it and fiddling with the hem of her shirt.

"I uh… in second year, I made polyjuice potion, which worked perfectly fine for Harry and Ron, but mine… I… I accidentally used cat hair. It's so similar to human hair, and well…" she shrugged helplessly.

Moody's mad-eye zeroed in on her, looking very hard at her.

Crouch had not been exaggerating when he said that she was brilliant. Making a NEWT level potion in second year. It was before she had the time turner. Was she unaware of how much magic went into NEWT level potions? NEWT level was for older magical folk various reasons. They were dangerous, violate, often time consuming, and magically draining.

"Were you tired at all when making the potion lass?"

"Not really no, more anxious than anything. I was… making it in Moaning Myrtle's lavatory. It was quite stress inducing since it's not exactly up to code or ideal with potion making" She looked at anyways but the wizards in front of her, hoping beyond hope they weren't judging her. She thought she was going to learn more not being questioned about her non-academic though technically academic activities.

Moody was impressed, it was as though Circe herself had made sure the lass was born at the right time.

"I thought this was a 'need to know to prepare for the war' meeting and now I'm assuming 'becoming a bodyguard for Harry' training."

"It is, lass," Crouch assured her.

"Basically, we're going to train you for the upcoming war. You're going to know how to fight and protect yourself and at least Potter. You're going to do independent study and practice on wards under our supervision. You're going to know how to help identify and destroy the horcruxes."

"In a crash course kind of way," Alastor interjected.

"Anyways what you need to know is that Snape-"

"Professor Snape," she corrected on habit and blushed after she realized what she had done.

Barty's lip quirked up at that, "- Professor Snape, is a spy. He's Albus Dumbledore's spy, but he also spies for the Dark Lord. He walks a very careful line, and cannot find out about this. If either lords find out about this, you could be under attack in different ways. The Dark Lord, obviously through attacks and torture. Dumbledore through manipulation and abuse."

"He seems dotty and kind about it though," the auror threw in off-hand.

"I know… he's abused Harry enough, but Harry doesn't see it."

"His abuse with Potter and his abuse that could affect you are similar and different. He'll make you feel like he's the only person that can help you. He'll ask you to do things you're not ready to do. Things that seem impossible."

"Dumbledore is a good wizard now, but before the war with Grindlewald…" Moody looked away, his eye shifting madly, "before the war with Grindlewald, Albus was close with the dark wizard. Before the death of his sister, things were different… he wanted what Grindlewald wanted, but when he fled the scene of her death, leaving Albus and Aberforth, things changed," he finished in a whisper.

Hermione's eyes widened. She didn't tell anyone, but she had heard similar things from Viktor, which was why she was giving him somewhat of a cold shoulder at the second task. She thought he was lying and speaking ill of the grand Headmaster, but now…

"You'll need to avoid the headmaster and Professor Snape. If you don't, things might very well…"

"They'll go tits up," the older wizard hmphed.

"It'll be easier to train you because you're smarter and it'll be one on one or two on one. If you have the time, it'll be easier if you give us your Easter Holiday to work with you on this. We may not likely have the summer with ye, lass."

Hermione look shame faced at the mention of the holiday.

"What?"

"I was… going to go home for the Easter Holiday. I have a lot to talk about with my parents that I haven't said in a letter. Thimi being one of them. But… but we have room… we have a room at… uhm…"

"Where lass?" Moody asked, assuming it would be a guest room in their small muggle house that was on file with the school.

"At our chateau in France."

Crouch looked stunned for a moment.

"At your castle? In France?"

"Yes, sir."

"At your muggle castle? In France?"

"Yes, sir."

"You have a castle?"

"Yes, sir," slowly becoming a mix of annoyed and amused.

Crouch looked at Moody as though the older wizard was able to explain how a muggleborn had a castle. Most purebloods had castles and manors, it was very normal. It wasn't normal, as far as he was aware, for muggles and muggleborns to have castles or manors.

"How do you have a castle?"

Hermione's facial expression morphed into a wordless unamused answer.

"Do all muggles have castles? No right?"

"No, sir. Not all muggles have castles. I don't like to talk about it."

"I understand that, lass. Crouch! Leave the lass alone! She doesn't wanna talk about her castle with you," the elder wizard stepped in.

Crouch pursed his lips at the older wizard. Normally when the death eaters had gone on muggle raids they all had normal houses or flats or something of the sort. None of them had castles. They were aware of the Queen and the Royals and their castles and manors, they were off limits for some reason. He thought about it a bit more.

"Granger…. Are you? Are you a Lady?"

Hermione blushed and glared while crossing her arms, "Of course I'm a lady."

"No no no, are you Lady Granger?"

Hermione blushed and looked away.

"Y… yes, sir."

Crouch walked to the other side of the desk and let himself fall into the chair. He was floored, his muggleborn pupil was a lady. The smart and brilliant witch that surpassed his expectations, was a lady. He didn't know why he was so surprised, but he felt like he was internally trying to grasp onto something that would explain it.

Moody saw that Crouch was having a moment trying to take it in. He remembered when his own pupil surprised him a few times. But his pupil Tonks was surprising and it was part of what helped made her such a damn good auror.

"Why don't ye wantin' the rest of wizarding Britain to know, lass?"

Hermione looked up at the real Moody.

"Because I don't want them to treat me different. My parents took up a dentist practice as a hobby, so we have a house and we don't live at the castle or the estate. I've been telling everyone that they're dentists, because they are, so they don't go digging in my business. I may be a lady, but I'm still a muggleborn. If they knew I was a lady they might treat me different. Probably a good different, but they would probably have Professor Crouch's reaction. I'm no better than any other muggleborn first and foremost though."

Moody nodded accepted the young witch's answer. He knew how the purebloods would act, just assuming she was from a squib line and accepting her as a half-blood at best so their ideologies would be able to stand firm in their minds. They would treat her with the respect a half-blood with a good line would receive, because she had old money. As far as they knew now she was barely richer than the Weasleys with dirty blood. Yet she was more brilliant and more magically gifted, an anomaly. If she were from a squib line, it would be magic descended and would soothe their frayed nerves at her accomplishments. It was part of muggleborn pride, daring them to treat her less while she was better.

"They also didn't want me growing up like… like Malfoy. My father never had his nose in the air, and my mother was" she paused to think about a proper word, "a regular English citizen. My father is English and French, but his mother was English and because she was a she, she was far down enough that she was able to keep her life private. When she married grand-père, the family decided it would be best to keep it as private and secret as possible."

Moody secretly approved of the family's decision, more so now since royal family had a witch in their family. If people were to look too hard or to question too much, they may have had a possible witch hunt in their future, if not at least fake her death. It was better though since the Ministry had to have contact with the Muggle government and a select few knew about them, with the proper vows in place of course.

"Granger, how did your father react when he found out about ye being a witch?"

"My father was… calm and accepting. When we were alone he told me how proud he was and how proud his grandmother would have been and it was... nice."

"His grandmother?"

"Yes, Mamie Helen. She wasn't a witch, but she was considered the local witch in her town. It's different in muggle culture. She read palms and tarot cards. She made homemade remedies for the sick, things like that. She was the only reason why I bothered with Divination when I did." She mumbled the last part under her breath.

"Does anybody else know about her? Aside from us." Crouch suddenly asked.

"Aside from my family, no. I haven't told anybody about my grandparents, let alone my great grandparents."

"Good. Keep it that way."

Hermione raised an eyebrow at her professor that spoke for her, silently saying 'Like I wasn't?'

Barty pursed his lips at the young lady. He was proud of her, he liked her, but he was also unnerved by her. Sometimes, without meaning to, she reminded him of Snape. The eyebrow movements she sometimes did, they brought back memories. He knew Snape was a spy for the light and dark, and had been assured by the headmaster that Severus had his complete faith.

Even with the headmaster's assurance, he still wasn't sure how to feel about Snape, and knew how creepily brilliant he was. He had been doing his best to be Moody, and it had thankfully kept Snape out of his hair.

"So about Easter hols?" The witch asked instead.

"It would be for the best, we don't have much time. If it weren't for this bloody tournament I would have had Crouch focusing more on you than he has been tryin' to help Potter. The lad needs the help, else he'd be dead by now," Moody grumbled.

Hermione had nothing to say to that since she knew he was right. She was still a bit mad she didn't think of gillyweed even though she saw it almost every time she went into the potion store room.

She had been firm with herself to not overthink or even so much as look at the other ingredients in the store room. She would have loved to make other potions not on the syllabus, but she would be damned if she got caught… again. Granted Professor Snape still thought it was Harry, but still. In her opinion she was known as a thief, Harry being the scapegoat or not (and he was).

"I'll have to let my parents know so they can at least air the chateau out and get it ready for inhabitants," she said instead.

Both wizards nodded.

"In the meantime…" Barty started, fishing around in his desk to take out the books they bought for her, "I'd still feel better if you had one of us here when reading the dark book, so that stays here. I have Potter's map so he won't be able to find you in here."

"Yes, sir."

He finally found the books, not that they were hard to find, just hard to get to with all the parchments on top of them. He took them out one by one, since they were all thick and heavy.

Hermione's heart fluttered at seeing them, her lips curved into a small. They were the perfect types of books for obscure branches of magic. They looked just as big as Hogwarts, A History, they smelled old, and looked like they were in excellent condition.

"Wards and Their Keepers, Safekeeping Between Spheres, and Estranged Wards of the Endowed. Estranged Wards of the Endowed is yours, but it's dark enough where we'd feel better if you were with us. Moody would prefer you don't practice any of the wards in this book, but-"

"- but war doesn't care about what you prefer. I tried to not kill when I was given leave to kill. But I'm not a muggleborn who is about to have a price on her head for being friends with The Boy Who Lived. I'm not saying I'm better than you or you are than me, lass. I'm saying that-"

"- that I'm in more danger than you because I'm a target. It's going to be kill or be killed… It would be better to be prepared than to not be prepared at all," Hermione finished.

"When you're practicing the darker wards, you'll be with me," Barty said softly.

Hermione tilted her head, "Darker wards?"

"One of the books is gray. It's magic that depends on the intent," The older wizard said bluntly.

"All magic is based on intent," the petite witch said, crossing her arms and shifting on one hip.

"Indeed it is, lass." Crouch said grinning, "Now come here and grab your two other books. The third one cost Moody a leg."

Hermione looked over at the peg-legged wizard curiously, going forward to grab her gifts.

"Any other books like that," he growled pointing to the expensive dark book, "you'll have to order through me. But you'll have to pay for them yourself, Lady Granger."

"Would you like me to reimburse you for it?" she asked politely.

"It's a gift, lass! You don't reimburse gifts!" he shouted at the small witch, making her cheeks pink.

She should have remembered what reactions were received when questioning the old auror, even if it was her professor impersonating him. They made her feel stupid.

The curly haired witch picked up her books after stroking the titles admiringly. She hefted them into her bag, sagging a bit under their weight. A smiled bloomed on her face at the weight, a physical sign at how large the books were. They were heavier than some of her light reading, which was exhilarating.

"Sublevo sacoma," the grizzle wizard said with a wiggle of his wrist, pointing at Hermione's bag.

The petite witch's eyes widened and lit up as she straightened up. She saw the wizard's wand movement and heard the incantation, it was a spell she would never forget.

"Thank you, sir," she said with a toothy grin.

It was one of the few charms she never found (and was too proud to ask) to make her bag lighter. She would be able to fit more books in her bag now, and no one would know. Especially since she already had an undetectable extension charm on it, courtesy of Mr. Weasley (whether he knew it or not).

"Don't thank me yet, Granger. Start stretching before bed, you'll be glad for it during the holiday."

"Yes, sir. I'll be sure to write them this evening. Discretion is the word tonight on both our ends. Thimi, my family, my lessons, etcetera. Good night, sirs. We'll speak more tomorrow, before curfew."

Dear Mum and Dad,

We have a lot to talk about, I'm so excited I can barely wait to see you home this Easter. I was hoping we'd be able to go home away from home. It would be one of the most amazing gifts you can give me this holiday! It's super important to me, pretty please? With chocolate frogs on top?

All my love,

Hermione

Leeroy looked at the letter and read it twice before sighing. Abagail wasn't home just yet, having run off to the market. Hermione was extremely secret about who she was, and for very good reason, but she also wrote in code from time to time in case her dormmates were to ever get nosy.

This Easter holiday she needed to go to the chateau for something magic related, and had a lot to explain and talk about that she couldn't find a way to explain on paper. Last year it was a time-turner and her growing up faster. She had waited until after term had ended before telling them. This year it was serious enough that she had to talk to them before term ended.

He ran his hand through his hair and took a deep breath. His little bright princess was grown up and needed them to air out the chateau for something important. Something that would probably lead to his wife fretting over. He made a promise, and he was going to keep it if it killed him. Abagail would pull out her hair and his, but he would keep his daughter in his life until his last breath.

His Mamie Helen was very specific about parts of his life involving children. She had always been excited and weird when he let her read his cards or palms. She warned him and made him promise to stay fast with his child, because it would save his life. If he pushed her away or pulled her against her will, he would die early or they would both die young.

Abagail barely understood, but she tried, and he loved her all the more for it. She had met his mamie, and had gotten her seal of approval with a stern warning to sway with the breeze or she would be met with the ground. He was sure now that it was the same warning he had gotten when he was younger, just worded differently. She never read Abagail's palms, but she got a good look at them.

Abagail always hoped that Hermione would be like Helen when the idea of her being a witch was floating around. Helen was the first person to notice it, and told her grandson Leeroy. Leeroy had advance knowledge, but didn't know what to do with it. Helen would just smile and pat his cheek, telling him he worried too much. Abagail always assumed Helen was saying a witch, like herself. One without real magic.

His daughter Hermione was a witch, she was named after the daughter of Helen of Troy. Mamie was named after Helen of Troy. Hermione was always her daughter in spirit, both were witches, just one had a magical core and the other didn't.

He would make the phone calls to have the chateau aired out before Abagail came home.

Severus was sitting in his private quarters grading third year essays. He was trying to keep Miss Granger out of his mind, and decided to not work on fourth year's assignments that evening. He was already disgusted with himself, and didn't need her on his mind when there was work to be done.

He was almost done when he felt his ears go hot, which wasn't unusual.

"Someone is talking about me... Probably some dunderhead student if it isn't Mad-eye trying to talk Albus into having my rooms investigated again," he murmured to himself.

He reached over the graded papers for his cup of tea and sipped it, glad it was room temperature. Scalding hot tea was good for when he wanted to be distracted at that exact moment, but did little in the ways of keeping the roof of his mouth in one piece. His mouth was heat sensitive, and fresh hot things often melted the roof of his mouth.

The potions master looked across his sitting room pensively. He was still trying to figure out what to do when the Dark Lord called. He knew he was going to have to go back, but he wasn't sure how soon and how long the Dark Lord would be kept waiting.

He had parts to play, and had been building himself back up after years of respite. It didn't hurt that Potter looked like his sire. What hurt was that he had her eyes, and he knew he was living with Petunia. Petunia was a jealous shrew of a woman who decided if she couldn't have magic, she would hate it.

He called Potter out on being spoiled, and other such falsities time and again. It kept his slytherins from nosing about. He would bet his wand though, that it was far from the truth. He saw how small Potter was, how thin he was, the first day of class. The robes hid it well enough, but the boy was thin. He heard rumors how his cousin and uncle were as big as small whales.

After the Dark Lord's return, he would have to see about that. Albus had been informed, he himself had pointed it out, and Albus had waived him off. The Dark Lord would be itching to return to his original position. Potter needed to be on his A game in other aspects of his life that were not actual game related.

However so far the only other person who seemed to be willing to go the extra mile for Potter was Granger. He would be sure she was in his corner, and neither of his masters were going to know about it, because dammit, Harry bloody Potter had to live.