Friday morning, Hermione awoke to screams.
Groggy, it took Hermione a moment to calm her heart as she realized what was going on, with Daphne shrieking while Tracey tried to calm her. The shouting stopped once Millie realized the snakes were carrying envelopes, and then there was a quick scramble as everyone found the snake with their envelope, and then rustle of parchment and silence while Hermione yawned.
Abruptly, the curtains of her bed were yanked back, and Pansy glared down as a sleepy Hermione.
"You could have warned me, you know," she said.
"It was 3am by the time I was done," Hermione pointed out, trying to stifle another yawn. "I thought you'd prefer to get your beauty rest."
Pansy sneered back, but she let the matter drop, and Hermione suppressed a smile as she got dressed.
Breakfast was a fun experience. Each snake had been instructed to stay with the person who their invitation had been for, and it was entertaining to see how every Slytherin had best decided to handle that. Several of the NEWT students had bites on their hands, probably from trying to pull off their snakes, and many people seemed to be shifting uncomfortably in their robes, constantly patting their pockets for reassurance.
Incredibly, the younger students seemed to love it. Several first years were wearing their tiny snakes like bracelets or anklets, and one girl was letting hers curl around her head like a headband. Hermione was somewhat concerned that the professors would say something, before firmly dismissing it as not her problem. If someone got in trouble for not obeying the uniform code, that was their own issue to deal with.
Draco had been obviously impressed when he came to breakfast, giving Hermione a respectful nod and grin. He was wearing his own snake around his neck like a stole.
"Pansy said you'd come up with something impressive, but this is above and beyond," he told her, smirking. "And these obviously aren't conjurations – they wouldn't have lasted this long, and they'd have vanished when Theo cast Finite at one of them."
"Did you think she wouldn't?" Blaise asked, challenging him. He ignored the snake wound around his own wrist as he ate his breakfast.
"I knew she'd do something, but I didn't know what to expect," Draco defended. "But snakes personally delivering messages to every Slytherin…" He shook his head with a grin. "Brilliant."
"Not every Slytherin," Hermione clarified. "Just… most of them."
"You didn't get everyone?" Pansy said immediately, alarmed. "Hermione, that was the whole point—"
"I only left a select few out," Hermione said lightly. "It was a strategic decision, really – just people who wouldn't want to come to any council I called."
Pansy paused. "How many people did you miss?"
"Five," Hermione said immediately. "All older than me."
Her classmates all glanced down the table, now trying to figure out who didn't have a snake in an odd game of hide and seek. Most of the people who did have a snake were trying to hide them, with mixed success. The question, how was one to spot someone trying to act normal amidst a group of people also desperately trying to act normal, though for a different reason?
Theo caught the first one.
"Look at Rosier," he said. "She looks like she's ready to kill someone."
Indeed, Alexia Rosier was glaring around at her classmates and her fellow prefect, who was stroking his snake openly and feeding it bits of bacon as it poked out of his sleeve.
"Snyde," Daphne said suddenly. "He looks like he's about to cry."
"Maybe he's just scared of snakes," Goyle said.
"He'd be hiding that better," Draco told Goyle. "That, there—that's self-doubt. That's a personal crisis right there."
Pansy looked at Hermione sideways.
"Did Rowle get one?" she asked. "Or Travers? Or Winnikus?"
"They did not," Hermione said easily.
Pansy bit her lip.
"I got one," she said, a bit obviously, and Hermione laughed.
"You have apologized and sworn me loyalty," she pointed out, and Pansy flushed. "Can you say the same for the others?"
Blaise was shaking his head in astonishment, though he was smiling.
"Talk about psychological warfare," he said. "Not getting a terrifying invitation when everyone else did – who would think they'd want to wake up to a snake dangling in their face?"
The 4th year Slytherins had Defense Against the Dark Arts first thing that morning. Professor Moody, upon entering, promptly discarded whatever lesson plans he'd come up with and instead demanded to know why the Slytherins all had snakes.
Hermione had to hide her grin. She'd figured Moody's eye would spot them immediately.
Daphne and Theo reluctantly explained to Moody about the invitations they'd all received, which seemed to make Moody even madder.
"So you just all took these strange letters, did you?" he growled. "Decided to let snakes of dubious origin lurk around your body all day? Never once occurred to you that this might be a plot by someone who hates Slytherins to eliminate you all for once and for all?"
"But they're snakes," Crabbe said, confused. "They like Slytherins."
"Snakes couldn't give a rat's arse about what House you got sorted into," Moody scoffed. "They don't know what Houses are. No, there's only one way to control this many animals into doing something like this." He glared out at them ominously. "Dark magic."
Hermione sighed and raised her hand.
"Actually, professor," she said, when called upon. "There's another way."
"Is there?" Moody snorted. "Let's hear it, then."
"I just asked them nicely," Hermione said. "They were happy to help."
Moody stared at her.
"You," he said.
"Yes," Hermione said.
"You just asked the snakes," Moody repeated. "And they helped."
"Yes," Hermione said. "Exactly."
There was a pause. Moody scrutinized Hermione with both eyes, normal and magical, and Hermione sat still, holding eye contact with perfect ease while the Ravenclaws began to gossip in whispers.
"I didn't know you could talk to snakes," Moody said finally.
"It doesn't usually come up in conversation," Hermione said, feigning an apologetic tone. "I'm sorry if not knowing that made you concerned that there was a Dark magic plot afoot."
At that, Moody snorted, before he smiled a terrifying smile.
"Could still be a Dark magic plot afoot," he pointed out. "Talking to snakes – that's not something normal witches and wizards can do."
Hermione batted her eyelashes at him. "Maybe I'm just special like that."
To her surprise, Moody barked out a laugh and awarded her 10 points to Slytherin for her gall, before spending the rest of the lesson on how to recognize potential assassination attempts.
"Anything unexpected, that can be an attempt on your life," he told them all. "If you wake up and your wand's not where you left it, that might not be your wand. Don't just go grabbing things thoughtlessly – that could be a planted fake coated in poison left just outside of your bed wards, just waiting for you to pick it up."
"Or," Millie whispered to Tracey, sitting in front of Hermione's table, "it could have just rolled off your nightstand."
"And just because nothing unexpected or unusual is happening doesn't mean someone isn't making an attempt on your life!" Moody's eyes flashed as he glared out over them. "People grow lazy and weak in their routines. It takes being sharp and aware to make sure today isn't the day a Death Eater ambushes you right outside your front door. CONSTANT VIGILIANCE!"
The all jumped at his sudden bark. Hermione rather wondered how many times Moody had actually been ambushed as he stepped outside his door, and how many times he thought he'd been under attack as he stepped out his door.
In History, Lockhart cheerfully ignored the snakes draped around the Slytherins while the Hufflepuffs stared, unable to hide their amazement. Hermione caught Susan discreetly hissing to the one wrapped around Goyle's forearm, asking it what was going on, and Hermione shot her a grin when Susan later made eye contact. Susan grinned back at her, holding back a laugh, and gave her a nod, which Hermione returned, pleased.
Friday ended with Double Potions with the Gryffindors. Most of the Gryffindors gave the Slytherins suspicious looks throughout the class, openly distrustful, but nobody said anything about the snakes until the end of class, when Snape held all of the Slytherins back, dismissing the Gryffindors with a carelessness that made them lurk around the door, taking their time leaving as they tried to eavesdrop.
When the last one was through the door, Snape shut it firmly, turning to face his 4th year class.
"Does anyone happen to know why," he said quietly, "the Head of Slytherin was not invited to this Council of Slytherins?"
Several of them flinched, and Hermione cringed.
"With all due respect, sir," she said, speaking up, "your bedchamber is probably significantly more difficult to find than the normal dormitories."
Snape turned his eyes on her.
"You are suggesting that I was invited," he said, "but that the snake with my invitation got lost?"
"I mean," Hermione said, wincing, "they are snakes. There's a high chance your snake is still wandering around the dungeons looking for you." She paused, considering. "Or it might be comatose somewhere, actually. The dungeons are rather cold, and snakes are cold-blooded."
Snape pinched the bridge of his nose. "Do you happen to know what that snake might look like?"
Hermione hid a smile.
"I suspect it would just be a very large grass snake, sir," she told him. "I believe most of the snakes sent out were grass snakes."
Rolling his eyes, Snape dismissed them all, and they all scurried out of the class to return to their common room. Hermione made a detour, showing Pansy where the Kitchens were and standing by while Pansy asked the House Elves to provide very specific refreshments for the Slytherin Council. The House Elves agreed to all of her requests, save one.
"We is not having that tea, oh no," Tolly said, shaking her head rapidly. "No. No tea. We is bringing you elf-made wine. It is being very dark, Miss Pansy. It is being better."
"We thought tea would be a good substitute for wine, given we're mostly children still," Hermione said cautiously, and Tolly scoffed.
"Water is being a better substitute," she said. "Mud is being better. Anything. No. We is bringing you wine."
Hermione looked to Pansy, who shrugged.
"We can't get in trouble for what the House Elves insist on," she pointed out, eyes glinting. "And us having wine is certainly more of a power move."
Hermione sighed. "If you say so."
At dinner, the Slytherins were all immensely amused to see a large grass snake draped around Snape's shoulders like a feather boa. He ate dinner calmly, as composed as ever, while all of the other professors send glances down the table at him and gave each other meaningful looks. Dumbledore seemed to think this was some sort of House Pride fashion statement, and he cheerfully conjured a hat with a stuffed badger for Professor Sprout, who accepted it with visible distress at the bad taxidermy.
That evening, Hermione, Draco, and Pansy were in place by quarter till eight in the common room, the set time and place. Hermione had transfigured two chairs and a sheet into a rather avant garde throne at the front of the room, a weird-looking thing composed of lots of long metal bars instead of solid legs and armrests, and she sat in it while Draco and Pansy stood at her side.
As Slytherins entered, taking in Hermione's casual ease at the front while they sat down around the common room, before turning to get refreshments. As they came in, one by one, their snakes left them, slithering up to Hermione and coiling around her chair. By the time everyone had arrived, Hermione's throne seemed to writhe, as if the chair itself were alive, so full of snakes it was, the intent behind the odd-looking throne finally clear.
Hermione waited until she saw one last person arrive, Snape slipping in through the common room door to stand at the back, before she began.
"Tomorrow, the delegations from Beauxbatons and Durmstrang arrive," she announced. "We are gathered to discuss how we want to present Slytherin as a united front to our visitors."
There was a murmur and nods around the common room, before Draco stepped up, taking over.
"Right," he said. "So, obvious first – Durmstrang is known for the Dark Arts. Do we want to use Slytherin's reputation for the Dark Arts as a way in to make connections, or do we want to be seen not discussing the Dark Arts at all?"
The discussion was odd, people perched in chairs or sitting cross-legged on the floor with small goblets of wine, discussing the public perception of what it would mean for them to associate with who. Hermione let the conversation flow around her while she pulled out the crown she was working on. It was a power move, to appear to ignore the conversation entirely as if it didn't affect her, but Hermione had other motives at play. She worked on setting the stones and refining the shape of the crown while the Slytherins argued, the snakes around her on the throne hissing her advice.
It was decided that Slytherin stood the best chance of making connections with Durmstrang, and while they would not cast Dark magic to make connections with them, subtly implying to be interested in advanced magics not taught at Hogwarts to build bridges was encouraged. Any accusations later could be safely blamed on language difficulties and translation.
"Remember: when they think of Dark Wizard, they don't think of the Dark Lord," Draco told them all seriously. "They think of Grindelwald. The old High Holidays are established tradition to them, without the taint we have here in Britain, and using magic we might consider 'Dark' is just part of their way of life."
Conversation turned to Beauxbatons. To Hermione's surprise, many people immediately offered the opinion that they should utterly ignore the other school based solely on the fact that they were French.
"They're going to be annoying," one sixth-year girl complained. "It's going to be, 'oh, it's so ugly here' and 'oh, it's so cold' and 'Beauxbatons is better'," she went on in an over-exaggerated French accent. "If we can avoid them entirely, we can leave them to the other houses to make friends and connections with, while we're spared of them."
There were murmurs of assent, and Hermione sighed.
"I already have connections within Beauxbatons," she said, cutting in. "I'm not willing to abandon those based on the basis of 'they're French'."
Pansy considered Hermione.
"Are they strong connections?" she asked. "Powerful?"
Hermione considered.
"I would certainly say so," she said carefully. "The few people I know… I daresay one of them might end up as Beauxbatons' champion in the tournament."
There was a murmur at this, while Hermione felt slightly sick to her stomach at the thought. Fleur was very powerful, and Hermione knew she intended to put forth her name for the tournament. If she was chosen at least, Hermione was certain that she was magically powerful enough and smart enough to make it out alive.
"Beauxbatons connections on an individual basis, then," Draco proposed. "Let them circulate. They're more likely to be drawn to the Ravenclaws. They're French – they'll prefer to have academic salons and discuss Philosophy, anyway."
The council ended with Pansy reiterating that everyone was to make friends with the Durmstrang students and learn from them, while cautiously connecting with those in Beauxbatons. The younger students, who would not have peers arriving, were encouraged to talk to the Beauxbatons representatives, on the basis that the French would be kinder to them because they were still tiny children. Hermione wasn't sure that was a great strategy, but she also largely didn't care what Slytherin's strategy was as a whole.
Hermione had her own strategy for the arriving candidates for champion, but she was content to keep her plan to the shadows for now.