Originally, Hermione had thought Daphne would just host the Gala and Auction for the werewolf house at the Greengrass Manor. She lived in a manor – there was bound to be enough room there, and it'd make decorating much easier.

That presumption, apparently, had been a large faux pas.

"The only times one hosts an event for the public at large at one's own house is if it's a marriage or a birth," Daphne told Hermione, unlocking a giant padlock on a metal fence, construction signs and danger signs hanging all over the fence. "Any other time, you host it on neutral ground."

"Narcissa Malfoy has her Yule Ball every December," Hermione protested. "She's—"

"Winter Ball," Daphne corrected sharply, unlocking a second lock. "And that's a private party, not an event open to the public. That's entirely different."

"But the birth of a child is a public event?" Hermione asked, confused.

"Of course," Daphne said, surprised. "How else are people going to come and offer the child gifts?"

"So they what, just show up and offer…" Hermione trailed off, eyes growing wide. People showing up to a stone manor for a birth and offering gifts – there was a very surreal feeling of realizing that one of the fictional fairy tales she had grown up with might not be so fictional at all, and Hermione didn't quite know how to reconcile that inside her head.

"Anyway, this is a public event, so it was necessary to rent a hall," Daphne explained, just as the third lock clicked open. "I think you'll be pleased, though."

Daphne pushed open the fence, and Hermione gasped.

From outside of the fence, the building had appeared like a half-constructed short office building of some sort. From inside the fence, though, it was clear that all the construction had been an illusion.

A large, two-story mansion sat inside of the fence. It was white with muted blue shutters, planterns, and roof. There was a patio on the bottom floor and a balcony on the second floor, both with stylish white pillars holding up the roof above it. There were lanterns hung from the ceiling on both the porch and the balcony, and Hermione wondered if both areas were accessible to the public during events.

She hadn't known quite what to expect, but a mansion practically from a Hollywood movie wasn't it.

"I knew you'd love it," Daphne said, pleased. "Come on – let's go inside."

Inside, there was a coat room with a small booth to the immediate left, bathrooms, and an enormous staircase, its wood gleaming. Inside the building had more of a classical, opera hall feel to it, a stark difference from the outside of the venue.

"The kitchens are down here too, behind the stairs," Daphne told her. "The event hall is at the top."

At the top of the staircase was a set of grand doors that were propped open, opening to what Hermione presumed was an event hall and ballroom. There was an enormous dance floor, and there was another area with some type of thin carpeting, but there was a stage as well. Giant red velvet curtains were drawn back and tied at the sides.

"I had them put easels and chairs out," Daphne said, gesturing around the area. "I didn't know how best we should order the paintings, or where they should be in relation to where people sit."

Hermione considered.

"We want the paintings and the werewolves to be the topic of the evening," she said, "so spreading out the easels so there's room for people to mingle among them might be the move. If we put refreshments on the other side of them, then people have to go through the paintings to get drinks and whatnot."

Daphne considered.

"That's not a bad idea," she said. "Should we put tall standing tables among them as well?"

"No, that'll encourage people with full plates of hors d'oeuvres to stay among the paintings," Hermione dismissed. "We don't want people balancing both plates and drinks lurking about – someone might trip and spill something on a painting."

Daphne gave her a very strange look.

"Do Cleaning Charms not work on muggle things?" she asked curiously.

Hermione faltered. "…I'm not sure. But it'd be embarrassing nonetheless, so it's a situation best avoided entirely, don't you think?"

She and Daphne spent the late morning and early afternoon arranging easels, deciding which painting should go where, making sure informational blurbs were available near each painting, and generally doing their best to make sure everything was perfect. There was a table just before the formal seating in front of the stage where they laid out the auction paddles.

"They insert their wand into the paddle here," Daphne showed Hermione, revealing a hole at the bottom of the handle. "When they raise their paddle to bid, their number will flash, and it will make an invisible loose magical contract between the bidder and the auction house."

"Are there that many incidents with people backing out of their bids?" Hermione asked, astonished.

"No, not at all," Daphne said. "It's more a practical thing – it helps keep track of who won each piece, and it prevents someone who didn't win a piece from cutting in and purchasing the piece before the winner arrives to collect their item."

That made an odd sort of sense, Hermione thought. In a society where people could transform their appearance and disguise themselves magically with relative ease, such safety precautions were a necessity she'd never before considered.

As Hermione and Daphne finished arranging things to their liking, serving staff in smart white and black uniforms came in, draping the tables in silken tablecloths and dusting off the chairs around the tables.

"Squibs," Daphne said quietly. "They can see and interact with magic, but they can cast none of it on their own. A safety measure for the guests, but also inexpensive labor, I'd imagine."

Were there really that many squibs around? Hermione wondered. A workforce of a large serving staff, and on top of that the kitchen and support staff… it'd need to be at least 50 people or so, she estimated, and she'd thought squibs were relatively rare.

"They've got a broom valet set up on the roof, and the Apparition point is in the Entrance Hall downstairs," Daphne said, checking things off on her fingers. "There's a Floo at the far end of the Entrance Hall, but no one will use that – it's a bit plebian for an event of this caliber."

"So what's left to do?" Hermione asked, looking around. "It's only half three, and this won't start for hours yet."

Daphne gave her a horrified look.

"I will go back to my house," she said, as if explaining something very complicated to someone very stupid, "and get ready there."

"For hours?" Hermione asked, incredulous.

"Of course." Daphne rolled her eyes. "We might have magic, but beauty isn't easy."

When Hermione arrived at the Gala that evening, wearing the dress she'd gotten shopping with her mother, the venue had been transformed. The lighting was warm and glowing, and inside the event hall, the chandelier was lit up, hundreds of crystals glittering down at them. People dressed in very fine robes swept around with their champagne glasses, making small talk and examining the paintings. Hermione helped herself to some sparkling white grape juice and meandered along the side, watching others interact.

"Hermione!"

Hermione turned to see an older boy. He wore an eager grin, and he had a ghastly scar down the middle of his face. Just under the neck of his robe peeked out another scar, this one looking much more bite-like, and Hermione tilted her head.

"Geoffrey Hooper, right?" she asked.

"Got it in one!" Geoffrey said cheerfully. "Anyway – this is all because of you, yeah? I just wanted to say thanks."

"Don't thank me yet," Hermione said, smiling. "Let's wait and see how it all goes first, shall we?"

"It'll go fine," Geoffrey dismissed. "Daphne talked to me. I'm going to give a speech, after Lupin gives his. It's going to raise a ton of money." He paused. "Very capable girl, Daphne. Do you know if she's single?"

"I—I don't think so," Hermione said, faltering. "Err—I'm fairly certain she's being courted right now."

"Ugh, pureblood protocols. Never learned them." Geoffrey frowned, shaking his head. "Can more than one person court the same person at the same time?"

Hermione blinked. "I… don't know. Maybe?"

Geoffrey laughed.

"Well, something I'll look into later, I guess," he said, grinning. "Guess I should go out and mingle, right? Remind people of the horrors of werewolves and whatnot?"

"Not a bad idea," Hermione said, amused. "See you later, Geoffrey."

Geoffrey took off, immediately circulating the party with an odd, intense energy. Hermione took a sip of her juice to steady herself before approaching the area where the paintings had been set up. It was her bill this fundraiser was for – she had an obligation to mingle and stress the importance of the cause too.

There were a lot of people present. For some reason, Hermione had expected just people from the Wizengamot to come, but it seemed like most people had responded in the affirmative to Daphne's invitation. The parents of practically every Slytherin were present, it seemed, and many had brought their children as well. Or maybe it was every wizarding family, not just Slytherins – the MacMillans were definitely present, as were the Boots, both Ernie and Terry talking off to the side while their parents made small talk. There were Ministry workers everywhere, too, in little clusters with their coworkers. The Aurors had decided to wear their blood red work robes, probably in an attempted intimidation tactic, but instead they looked rather small and scared, surrounded by an ocean of very finely dressed people.

"Hermione!"

Hermione turned to see Millie, who was grinning at her.

"Millie!" Hermione exclaimed, surprised. "Good to see you! How are you?"

"Me? I'm fantastic," Millie said. Her lips split into a nasty grin. "My father, not so much; he's not happy to lose out on my dowry, but the betrothal agreement was very clear, and if I can't bear Fionn children, Corban Yaxley has every right to break it without penalty."

Hermione laughed. "He's finally given up with the medical examinations?"

Millie nodded, smirking. "The Healers were starting to get really irritated with him. Every diagnostic came back that I couldn't bear children, but he wanted to know why. When one pinpointed my womb wasn't adequate, he wanted to know how it wasn't adequate. He kept putting up a stink, and finally they got a Pregnancy Healer in to physically examine me, only for him to snap 'She hasn't got a bloody uterus, that's why' and storm out."

Hermione couldn't help her snickering, imagining Millie's father's face at that confrontation.

"So then he wanted to know why there was no uterus," Millie went on, rolling her eyes. "A normal healer was able to say it looked like there was significant damage to my birth canal and the womb was gone entirely, so now my Dad thinks someone hit me with a curse that made me bleed out my womb."

"Wait – your father thinks you passed your uterus during your menses?" Hermione couldn't believe it. "And that you wouldn't have noticed it?"

Millie shrugged. "I guess. I'm not about to correct him."

Hermione was astonished. "Ah—alright. I mean, still a win for you, right?"

Millie grinned, snickering. "Exactly."

She led Hermione over to the far back of the grand hall, where a bunch of the children of attending adults had set up camp. As Hermione drew near, she was amused to see how the tables had divided out.

"So this is The Shadows' table, and the other two are for everyone else?" she asked, amused.

"Nobody said that," Blaise said, and air of innocence about him as he stood, smoothly pulling out Hermione's chair. "People are welcome to sit where they like."

"More efficient this way, anyway," Draco dismissed. "We can just ward the table, and then we can talk plans without worrying about being overheard."

Tracey was looking at an empty seat and frowning.

"Tom's not going to be here tonight, clearly," she said. She glanced at Hermione. "Who do you want to get the last empty seat?"

"Neville's never going to be able to get away from his grandmother tonight," Harry said regretfully.

"Daphne's far too busy with hostess duties," Luna said, tilting her head. "We'll have to bring her in later."

Blaise was watching Hermione, who was scanning the hall.

"Thoros Nott is here," she said, observing. "Where's Theo?"

Blaise and Draco exchanged a look.

"Last I knew, he was sulking in the loo," Draco admitted. "He just glared at me and snapped when I asked what his problem was."

"He's in… quite a mood," Blaise said diplomatically. "Not angry, per se, but definitely a mood."

Hermione considered.

"Harry, can you go talk to Theo?" she asked. "Invite him to our table, once he'll listen to you."

"Me?" Harry looked bewildered. "What am I supposed to talk to him about?"

"Anything you can?" Hermione shrugged. "You'll figure it out."

Skeptical, Harry obediently rose to his feet and headed for the bathrooms, leaving the rest of them behind.

"So what are your updates?" Tracy wanted to know, practically bouncing in her seat. "The 31st is tomorrow – if we need to put together a plan—"

"Absolutely nothing is happening tomorrow other than Harry's birthday," Hermione said, cutting her off. "I have a plan on how to achieve the pendants and make them work, but I have to learn how first."

"You have to learn how?" Pansy raised an eyebrow. "On how to enchant the pretty pendants?"

"Err—not quite," Hermione admitted. "On how to make them work as a means of travel. Instead of a portkey."

That caused a bit of a stir, eyes going wide.

"Wait, you think you can actually do it?" Susan said, her voice hushed. "Hermione, that'd be incredible – there haven't been major discoveries in wizarding transportation in centuries—"

"It wouldn't be just in general," Hermione warned. "It would be specifically for Shadows who pass the initiation test and ritual. It wouldn't be safe for anybody else."

Blaise whistled lightly. "Sounds intense."

"Well..." Hermione smiled faintly. "If it all works and I iron out the how, hopefully we can do the grand display of power on either the new moon or full moon in August."

"The full moon is right before the World Cup," Tracey objected. "Ministry security will be higher than ever."

"The new moon is in a week," Millie cautioned. "Is that enough time for you to learn whatever you need to learn?"

"No idea." Hermione sighed. "Hopefully. If not, we'll just do a grand demonstration and collect interest and sign ups, I guess? And then initiation ceremonies after?"

"We should probably figure out how to initiate people during the school year," Susan said, frowning. "We won't be able to get off the grounds more than twice a year. That doesn't seem very conducive to running a secret political organization."

Hermione's eyes widened as she realized an unexpected benefit utilizing the ley lines might be. "Err—actually, that might not be a problem."

"What, we'll just sneak strangers onto the grounds and do initiation in the Forbidden Forest?" Draco drawled. "Brilliant plan – we definitely won't get eaten by Acromantulas."

"No, I mean we'd be able to sneak off of Hogwarts property easily without detection," Hermione clarified. She bit her lip. "Unless Dumbledore's instituted some serious new tracking wards – which would be a massive invasion of privacy, in my opinion – we should all be able to sneak out. Then we could host initiations every new moon or something, if we needed to."

Pany's and Draco's mouths had dropped open, but Susan, Blaise, and Luna were looking at Hermione carefully, considering. They'd all been 'popped' once before, when wearing fairy stones to keep them safe. They were probably thinking that her pendants would function somewhat similarly, perhaps, but she imagined they had the general gist of an idea of what she was planning.

"Well," Draco said finally, exhaling. "Better than the full moon at least."

"If this little soiree goes well, the full moon won't matter anymore," Pansy said, sniffing. "So long as the Moon-key program is funded—"

"I still have to help finish warding the tenancies," Draco shot back. "Greyback's not about to turn himself in, and the hedges still need safety."

"If we can all sneak off regularly, it might not be a bad idea for more of us to help out," Tracey mused. "You know. Spread the gospel of Hermione and whatnot."

"The Gospel of Hermione?" an incredulous voice came from behind them, and Hermione whirled around to see Theo looking at them with disdain, Harry beaming behind him. "Here I was, thinking I was going to be sitting at the sane table—"

Hermione laughed, watching as he and Harry both took a seat.

"How are you doing?" she asked Theo. She kept her voice polite, but her eyes met his, holding his gaze.

"Better," Theo said with a sigh. "I—better. Thanks," he added, nodding at her. "Your help earlier wasn't what I expected, but… it turned out better than what I had planned would have."

Hermione smiled, relieved. "I'm glad."

"Theo, your father was a Death Eater," Pansy said, cutting in. "Do you know anything about how Death Eaters get inducted to that organization?"

The table fell silent, everyone kind of struck with shock.

"Way to dive right in, eh, Pansy?" Draco muttered. "No pleasantries, no 'hello'…"

"Not sure why you're saying he 'was' a Death Eater," Theo said cynically, reaching for his water glass. "It's not exactly an organization a person leaves…"

"But do you know anything on how they're inducted?" Pansy pressed on.

Theo carefully scanned the group around him, and Hermione could imagine what was going through his mind. There were a few pureblood Slytherins, to be sure, but there was also Harry Potter and Susan Bones at their table.

"I take it you're not asking because you want to join," he said slowly, eyes flicking from one person to the next.

Harry scoffed. "As if."

"I think under the circumstances, that's a reasonable question to ask," Hermione said diplomatically. "But no, Theo – it's more academic curiosity. We're curious about initiation ceremonies and what they entail."

"You want to make an initiation ceremony?" Theo said, puzzled. He glanced around. "For what?"

"Cult of the Valkyrie," Tracey quipped, and though the others laughed, Theo groaned.

"You were serious," he accused, pointing at her. "Gospel of Hermione Granger indeed – if you're all just directly worshipping her, what's the point of a gospel—"

"It's not a cult," Hermione said, annoyed. "We're talking about a secret political sect—"

"Wait, hang on," Draco interrupted, staring at Theo. He turned to stare at Hermione, then to stare back at Theo. "Are you saying Hermione—you think Hermione is the Valkyrie?"

"Have you not figured this out yet?" Theo asked, astonished.

"How would I have?" Draco protested, immediately defensive. "What nutter would think a teenage girl could break into Azkaban—"

"We didn't tell him," Tracey realized aloud, abrupt. "Last time, we went and got him for logo design – it was after all the Valkyrie business."

"Merlin," Pansy said, eyes wide. "Suddenly Draco still being a twit makes a lot more sense—"

"Hey!"

"Draco, about those wards against eavesdropping you mentioned earlier…" Hermione said, looking at him. Draco looked startled, then nodded, withdrawing his wand and tapping the table.

"Muffliato."

Nothing seemed to happen. They all glanced around, but nothing seemed to have changed.

"Anyone trying to listen in will just hear an unidentifiable buzzing sound," Draco told them. "We'll be able to talk without being overheard."

"That's brilliant," Harry said. He looked up at Draco, eyes wide. "Where'd you learn that one?"

"Snape," Draco said promptly. He paused. "…I think Snape developed it himself, actually."

"Anyway, if we can talk safely now…" Susan prompted.

"Right." To Hermione's surprise, it was Theo who turned to face Draco head-on. "Have you seriously not figured out the Valkyrie was Hermione?"

"What are you talking about?" Draco wanted to know. "If the Dark Lord couldn't have done it—"

"Is there any evidence that he ever tried?" Theo shot back.

Draco looked confused for a moment. Pansy smirked.

"Please, Theo, enlighten us," she said. "I'm curious to know how you figured this out as well."

Theo rolled his eyes but obliged. When he spoke, it was directly to Draco.

"D'you remember when she interrupted us playing chess last year?" he asked him. "Took us to an empty classroom and asked us questions about our fathers?"

Draco screwed his face up. "Kind of? That's the one where you two ganged up on me about thinking my father was under the Imperius Curse, wasn't it?"

"The one where she interrogated us about Fiendfyre," Theo snapped. He shot a sideways look at Hermione. "Where she let us know that she knew stuff about the Dark Lord when he was at Hogwarts. She wanted to know what sort of place the Death Eaters practiced the curse."

"I thought she said she wasn't going to learn," Draco objected, shooting Hermione a betrayed look.

"She said something along the lines of 'are you mad, there are grown adults can't cast that successfully'," Theo said, lip curling. "I noted that she never outright denied it."

"So you did learn Fiendfyre?" Draco demanded, whirling around to look at Hermione. "Where? I thought the only place with enough room was the Quidditch Pitch, but you'd have to risk burning it all up."

"The Chamber of Secrets," Hermione admitted, giving Draco a sort of wry half-grin. "It's big, empty, and it's stone. You helped me think of it that night, you know. I practiced there."

Draco groaned.

"Still," he said, turning to glare at Theo again. "Even if you knew she was learning Fiendfyre, what made you think she was the one to attack Azkaban? How would she even get there?"

"Hermione never shut up about how much she hated the dementors," Theo said, raising an eyebrow. "And I wouldn't have thought it was her, except she showed up in Blaise's bed out of nowhere at like 4am, glowing with magic, and Snape came tearing in, demanding to know if she knew what she'd done—"

"How was I supposed to know any of that?" Draco protested. "I was asleep!"

"You woke up for part of it," Blaise drawled, raising an eyebrow himself. "Surprised everyone didn't wake up, really."

"If Hermione could appear out of nowhere in the boys' dorm, then she'd clearly figured out some secret way of traveling that ignored the Hogwarts wards," Theo said. "And she was glowing, with Snape furious at her. Once I saw the headlines, it wasn't hard to figure out."

Draco looked at Hermione, astonished.

"So—you really did that?" he asked. "Destroyed the dementors? On your own?"

"I had a bit of backup," Hermione admitted. "But essentially, yes."

Draco sat back, stunned.

"Well," he said finally. "I guess I get why people will join your group now, yeah?"

"What group is this, anyway?" Theo snapped. He glanced around. "Have I just been recruited via osmosis?"

"No," said Hermione, just as Pansy said, "Yes, clearly". Hermione shot her a dirty look, but Pansy didn't flinch, smirking widely.

"It's a sort of 3rd political faction," Susan Bones explained diplomatically. "If there's a coming conflict, two sides are well-known, yeah? Dumbledore's, and You-Know-Who's. We're making a group that's a third option."

"What, a neutral third party?" Theo seemed doubtful. "Those who were neutral last time around—"

"When have you ever known Hermione to be neutral on an issue?" Tracey pointed out.

Theo paused. There was a silence.

"We have our own agenda," Harry chimed in. "If it conflicts with another group's… well, then they're our enemy. If it doesn't, we've got no problem with them."

"And what's your agenda?" Theo asked, raising an eyebrow.

"We'll discuss that later," Hermione dismissed. "Back to the topic at hand. Theo, do you know what the Death Eater initiation ritual consists of?"

Theo's face scrunched up as he tried to remember.

"I know there's several stages," he said, thinking. "There's an interrogation by the group, I think, where a bunch of Death Eaters ask you questions to make sure your ideology aligns with theirs. I think that the Dark Lord requires some great act to prove your loyalty as well – I don't think it has to be murder, but I vaguely remember it having to be illegal? Sort of a blackmail insurance policy on you. And at the end, I think the Dark Lord examined your mind via Legilimency to ensure you weren't hiding anything from him, before he branded you with the Dark Mark."

There were murmurs around the table, wide-eyed glances being exchanged.

"He brands them?" Pansy asked, sickened. "It's a literal brand?"

"All formally-initiated Death Eaters have the Dark Mark branded onto their arm," Theo confirmed, looking grave. "Once you're in, there's no leaving. You're in for life."

Hermione was mentally taking notes.

"So it takes place in a group setting with the already initiated," she said aloud, breaking it down. "There's a questioning session, then an act to prove your loyalty. Then a harrowing experience, and then the symbol of membership."

"Is getting your mind read harrowing?" Harry asked, bewildered. "Whenever Dumbledore used to do it—"

"Dumbledore only ever really did surface scans," Hermione explained to Harry. "A full Legilimency examination is bound to make your head pound. Might even cause a nosebleed."

"Well, the first and last parts are easy enough," Blaise quipped. "We'll just have to figure out the rest of it all."

"You all are supposed to be mingling!"

Hermione turned to see Daphne, beautifully done up and huffing at them, hands on her hips.

"You're supposed to be telling the adults who are looking at the art about your experience with werewolves!" she chastised them. "How did you feel learning your teacher was a werewolf? How do you feel about your classmate's fate? What about the break-ins at the Ministry and St. Mungo's?"

"We're children," Draco protested. "We're not going to be the ones giving money—"

"That's why you have to influence those who will now," Daphne snapped. She gave the table a dark look. "You can return to your sinister plotting later. Right now, the plight of the werewolf should be the only agenda item on your minds."

With a faint smile, Hermione obligingly pushed her chair back and stood.

"Mingling, then," she agreed, and Daphne huffed but nodded, gliding away.

"Bet I can get more people to donate than you, Potter," Draco Malfoy said, and Harry's face split into a grin.

"Yeah right, Malfoy," he shot back. "You're on."