The next Wizengamot session was in an uproar as soon as it was convened. Dumbledore was banging his gavel loudly, trying to restore control and decorum, but people were yelling and shouting from the outset.

"—said would happen!" crowed Amycus Carrow triumphantly. "Did we not warn you? Did we not say—"

"It's too late – that ship has sailed, Carrow!" snapped Sirius Black. "What we have to decide now is what to do about it!"

"Appeasement is not an option." Augusta Longbottom's face was like stone. "This must never happen again."

"If we enact this legislation, it's not like Greyback is going to just come into the Ministry and register!" protested Yaxley. "This won't do anything!"

"Won't do anything?" Royce Fiddlewood stood up, outraged. "It will help the dozens of good werewolves the Ministry currently has on file. They'll be able to become upstanding citizens again – they'll be able to hold a job once more—"

"It'll give us legal backing to go after Greyback, you moron," Amelia Bones snapped at Yaxley. "If this passes, and he doesn't register? Now we have a high priority criminal on the loose. And then we go and capture him."

"Why can't you just do that now?" Phaedra whined.

"Current legislation on werewolves governs their occupations and activities," Fudge cut in. He cleared his throat uncomfortably. "It doesn't actually give guidelines on punishment or handling them."

"Then let this bill replace it!" Era Hornbeam cried. "Portkey them, catch the ones that won't, and deal with it once and for all. We could be free of werewolves entirely in a generation!"

There was a murmur at this, and it was enough of a break in the furor that Dumbledore was able to bang his gavel and regain control.

"We must make a decision," he said, his voice loud in the chamber. He looked around at them all assembled through his half-moon glasses, and Hermione felt like he was meeting everyone's eyes. "This matter cannot be left to languish on the floor. We need, at the least, a preliminary vote."

"I second that!" called out Minister Fudge, blustering. "Let's vote."

"Raise your paddles," Dumbledore instructed. "White to pass this bill, black to deny it."

Hermione raised her paddle white in an instant, Era and Royce next to her doing the same. She leaned forward and looked down her row – Muse Boothe from Magical Transportation was white, as was Ludo Bagman and the Unspeakable. If she looked down the other way—

There was a loud DONGGG, and Hermione whipped around to look at Dumbledore in astonishment. Dumbledore looked slightly shaken himself.

"By a unanimous vote," Dumbledore said, "the bill to prevent the transformation of werewolves passes—"

He was interrupted by cheering, most of it from the regional representatives and the Ministry workers sitting near Hermione. Hermione joined with Era and Royce, yelling in triumph and joy until Dumbledore cut them off.

"—must discuss the present!" Dumbledore boomed. "This legislation is not set to take effect until September. The World Cup is in August. And the people will want protection now. We must discuss the particulars of enacting the bill."

"The House of Greengrass will volunteers to plan and fund the charity fundraiser as specified in section 3F," Rowan Greengrass said immediately, standing up.

"House of Black volunteers to help fund it," Sirius Black said immediately, jumping to his feet. "I can't plan shit, but I can contribute gold—"

"If I might contribute?" said Muse Boothe, standing up. "The Portkey office is already pulling overtime and long hours to prepare for the World Cup. Throwing a few dozen more Portkeys into the queue now would barely make a dent. We could have them done in a fortnight."

"They'd have no place to go," objected Phaedra. "The Kiwis still need to build a house—"

"We could send them all to an abandoned island off the coast in the meantime?" one of the regional representatives suggested. "It's not ideal, but it'd be a temporary solution that the werewolves might go for."

"They'd still be exhausted in the morning, and then they won't be able to hold down a job—"

"Then we talk to New Zealand, and we see if they can speed their construction up—"

As discussion and debate continued, Hermione felt herself detach from the chamber, the noise of the Wizengamot blurring to meaningless noise in her ears. She looked straight ahead, but it was as if she couldn't see anything, even though her eyes were fine.

She had done it. She had done it.

She had set out what she'd promised to do.

Sure, it would need finishing – she had to figure out how to get art pieces from werewolves for one thing, and she had to talk to Amaia and let her know it had gone through – but the legislation had passed. It had passed.

She sat there with a small smile as the adults around her bickered about budgets and schedules and the logistics of everything. She was feeling quietly proud – she had helped, she had helped people like Professor Lupin, and maybe now, maybe someday, nobody would ever be attacked again—

She was rudely brought back to earth by Lucius Malfoy approaching her after the Wizengamot session had ended, as she waited for Dumbledore to finish up his clerical business.

"Congratulations," Lucius said, looking at her. "It is not every child representative who gets legislation passed."

"Thank you, sir," Hermione said, a smile spreading across her lips. "And I'm not every child."

"I am well aware." An answering smirk grew on Lucius' face. "However, I do wonder at the timing. Don't you?"

Hermione paused. "The timing?"

"With Greyback," Lucius elaborated. "If he hadn't attacked the Ministry, it's likely your bill would have languished in committee or been tabled for further discussion several times."

"I—I didn't realize that would happen." Hermione looked down at her feet. "It didn't occur to me that Greyback would take offense and attack over the legislation—"

Lucius laughed. It was high and cold, utterly devoid of humor, and it sent chills down Hermione's spine.

"Miss Granger, it is very likely that Greyback did not," he told her.

Hermione looked up. "…what?"

"Fenrir Greyback is akin to a wild animal," Lucius explained, raising an eyebrow. "He does not keep track of what wizards are doing. Even with the bill being reported in the Prophet—I would be surprised if he's read a newspaper in the past thirty years."

Hermione wasn't following. "Then—what are you saying?"

Lucius' eyebrow went up.

"Why, Hermione," he purred. "Someone must have told him." His smirk grew. "Someone who knew him. Someone who wanted very badly for this bill to pass."

Hermione's jaw dropped.

"You think—someone—on purpose—"

"Miss Granger? Are you quite ready to go?"

Hermione whirled around to see Dumbledore waiting patiently. He was smiling benignly, but there was worry behind his eyes.

"Ah, yes, sir," she said quickly. She hurried to his side, and Dumbledore smiled at Lucius Malfoy.

"Have a good evening, Lucius," he said pleasantly. "Give my regards to Narcissa."

Lucius scowled as Dumbledore led Hermione away. They went down the hallway and to the elevator back to the Atrium.

"Was that a slight, sir?" Hermione asked Dumbledore, once they were in the lift. "Because Narcissa doesn't come to the Wizengamot meetings anymore?"

Dumbledore blinked.

"Is that how you Slytherins interpret things?" He sounded amused. "I was just trying to be polite. I thought it kind to send my regards to his wife."

"Really?" Hermione said skeptically. "With all due respect, you could have said anything. Your comment seemed rather purposeful, Headmaster."

Dumbledore's eyes twinkled as the lift doors opened.

"And if I had wished Lucius a good evening," he said, guiding her out of the lift. "How would Lucius have taken it then?"

"Err—probably with offense," Hermione said. "It would sound like a dismissal, implying you're higher up and more important than he."

"And if I had said something more traditional? 'May Magic guide you and protect your House'?"

"Um…" Hermione was starting to see his point. "It'd sound like a threat or an insult. Like either Magic isn't guiding him, or that his House will need protection soon."

"So, then, Miss Granger," Dumbledore said, eye sparkling behind half-moon glasses, "what would you have had me say?"

Hermione sighed as they moved up in the queue for the Floo.

"'Go away, Lucius. I hate you'," she suggested cynically. "At least that wouldn't leave anything open to interpretation."

Dumbledore laughed. "And give him the pleasure of over-analyzing for hours why I would be so impolite in public? I could never."

With Midsummer rapidly approaching, Hermione kept checking the Elixir, anxiously awaiting it to be done. The Stone started to seem almost aggravated with her constant supervision, and Hermione left her last odd 'conversation' feeling as if she'd been chastised by a rock.

Tom Riddle was getting more excited as well. Hermione was making a point not to pull him from the diary, in order to pour as much magic as possible into it in preparation for the big night. She'd need him to last as long as possible to be lookout for her, and making sure he didn't disappear randomly in the midst of the attack was a crucial part of that. Still, he expressed his excitement in writing to her, plotting out the logistics.

You will need a way to get into the fortress, he told her. Either you will need to break in a wall on the bottom floor, or you will need to fly and enter from the top.

I don't want to blast in a wall, Hermione written back, objecting. Someone's cell could be behind it, and someone could get hurt!

Then you shall need to fly to the top, all the whilst fighting off dementors as you rise, Tom had written back. His tone seemed amused. Do you think the prisoners have windows? They really might see you as an angel of fire if they see you fly.

Hermione began to wonder exactly what Tom Riddle's idea of an angel was. She'd been thinking of the general muggle image of a winged being, but she began to wonder if he'd been rather more influenced by direct Biblical interpretations of interlocking wheels made of flame with six sets of wings and far too many eyes.

The House Elves were happily preparing for Midsummer as well. Tolly was excited to share their plans with Hermione.

"Midsummer, we is having a normal ritual. But after, we is going to take a vacation!" Tolly exclaimed happily. "Because there is not being students at the castle, Dumbledore is agreeing we can take four weeks off!"

"That's incredible!" Hermione said. "Where are you going?"

"We is going to spend part of it at a sacred lake for Lughnasadh," said Tolly. "The rest we is spending with the goblins, we thinks. I is needing to check on that still."

"And Dumbledore was okay with that?" Hermione asked cautiously. "He didn't put up a fuss?"

"He signed the agreement," said Neemey, appearing from nowhere. "He doesn't get a say."

"He was being okay," Tolly said, nodding rapidly. "He was even being polite about it! He is asking where we is going to visit our families, what activities we is going to be doing with them. He was nodding when I explained we is mostly going to be helping them with catching up with chores, and he is wishing us the best!"

Hermione blinked. "That's… unexpected."

"It is." Tolly grinned, then leaned closer to Hermione. "Dumbledore was making a point of asking Neemey if they is going to see family, too," she told Hermione in a hushed undertone. "Once Neemey was being nasty and snapping at him, he is being happy and pleasant and excited for us again."

Comprehension dawned on Hermione.

"You think he was worried you would—" Hermione's mouth was dry. "He thought you were going to involve—"

Tolly shrugged.

"We is House Elves. We is being able to pop and go on either side of the lines," she said. "However, we is not stupid. We is not and we is fully intending on staying on this side of the lines." She shook her head rapidly. "Nothing good is ever coming from the other side of the lines."

"I resent that," Neemey said from nearby.

"You is not good and you knows it!" Tolly shot back, grinning widely.

Neemey smirked. "That's rather a matter of opinion, isn't it?"

The matter stayed in Hermione's head as she left the kitchen, and she found herself dwelling on it as she returned to the dungeons.

Dumbledore being wary of the Fae had never entered Hermione's mind. She'd presumed he was mad at the House Elves because he was a control freak and didn't want anything happening at his school that he didn't know about. The Headmaster being cautious and alarmed about possible connection to the Fae realm from his school seemed a lot more reasonable than being an authoritarian over the elven help, and that realization made Hermione feel odd in retrospect. It was as if there was an odd taste in her mouth, a bitter afternote, like a bite of guilt for having uncharitable thoughts and opinions that hadn't been justified after all.

Hermione resolved to do better, straightening her back and walking with determination. If she was going to be a great Slytherin someday, she'd need to get better at figuring out people's motives eventually. She might as well start now.