Hermione avoided the Slytherin common room the rest of the day. She wandered the castle, free to do so alone now that the security restrictions were gone, her emotions aching and worn all day, to say nothing of the pain pressing on her from her hands and her exhaustion. She felt like it should be the day of her greatest triumph, but all she felt was tired and worn, with tingling and burning arms constantly nagging the back of her mind.
She went to visit the kitchens, where the House Elves were overjoyed to see her.
"We was having a wonderful Beltane!" Natty told her, beaming up at her. "We was celebrating and lighting fires and leaping and singing!"
"We was even decorating the thorns!" another elf told her, happily. "We was feasting and offering and celebrating!"
Hermione smiled down at them, their simple joy contagious.
"I'm glad," she told them. "Do you not usually?"
"Usually we is having to be sneaky about it, and be quiet with the leaping and singing, or we would be being heard," Tolly told her, coming over. "But we was not holding back this year! There was much singing and celebrating in the groves."
"Magic is being happy with us," another House Elf proclaimed. "Magic is blessing us with many gifts!"
"I'm glad," Hermione told them, genuinely happy for them. She glanced around. "Is Bidum here? I wanted to thank him."
"You is wondering who is popping you back from the wardstone," Tolly said slyly. "You are being right – it was being me and Bidum. We gots you all and we popped you back."
"Thank you," Hermione said. "I didn't realize just how badly I'd hurt or exhausted myself. I don't know how—"
"I's helped," Natty broke in. Her voice was awed. "I was not realizing the extent of Missy Hermione's power. There were being ghosts all around."
"Ghosts?" Hermione said, blinking. "There were ghosts there?"
"After you was tying your ritual to the school, all the ghosts was feeling it more easily," Tolly explained. "They were coming and looking, and they is being asking questions of your coven-mates. Most of them is looking skeptical, but all of them is looking thoughtful when they is leaving." She paused. "I is thinking a few more will be taking your choice when next Beltane is coming around."
"If it even works," Hermione groaned. "Look at this, Tolly – look what I did to my hands!"
"It will be working," Tolly dismissed. "The light pillar was going down at sunrise, and Tolly is feeling the power still in the stones that will awaken again." She looked right at Hermione, her big eyes meeting hers. "You is doing a good thing," she said firmly. "I is not glad you is getting hurt, but you is doing a good thing for these ghosties, letting them go home."
Hermione smiled faintly. "Thanks, Tolly."
"You is a daring witch, you is being." A graveled voice came from behind her, and Hermione turned to see Bidum coming forward.
"Thank you for bringing me and my friends back safely," she said, but Bidum waved off her thanks and grinned. He was missing some teeth, which made for an odd grin.
"You is popping successfully," he told her proudly. "You is getting there yourself."
"I couldn't get us out myself," Hermione sighed, and Bidum scoffed.
"We is popping you back and taking your Tokens back no problem," he dismissed. "Your coven-mates is being very respectful." His eyes lit. "I is seeing the strength of your magics, Missy, and I is believing," he told her. "You is being very powerful."
"It was the strength of my coven," Hermione said. "We bonded earlier that night, and the burst of power that overflowed helped us all do it together."
"You is doing powerful witchcraft and sorcery," Bidum proclaimed. He grinned again. "I is being very happy to be seeing old magics done at Hogwarts once more."
The House Elves eventually shooed her out so they could prepare dinner, and Hermione found herself wandering up to the library, not wanting to go back to her common room. She drifted aimlessly through the shelves, her eyes only vaguely taking in the details of the titles.
"…Hermione?"
Hermione turned to see a familiar small, red-headed girl peering around a bookcase at her.
"Ginny?" Hermione said. She blinked. "Can I help you?"
"I—I just wanted to thank you," Ginny said, coming forward tentatively. Her blue eyes were earnest. "I never did, and it's been haunting me. You—you saved the school, and that diary—I know I was the one who—"
Ginny began to shake, her eyes pooling with tears, and Hermione moved quickly, taking Ginny into her arms before she collapsed.
"Ssshhh," Hermione shushed, comforting. "It's alright. It wasn't your fault, you know."
"It was," Ginny cried, her voice low. "I hurt all those people!"
"Someone evil was in your brain and hurt people," Hermione corrected. "You, Ginny, are not a bad person. You were being used."
Ginny sniffed. "You think?"
"I know," Hermione asserted. "And it's okay – no one died, and everyone is going to be okay soon. The mandrakes are almost done maturing."
"I just—I feel so guilty," Ginny went on, tearing up again. "If I hadn't given you the book, Hermione, people could have died—"
"But you did give me the book," Hermione said calmly. "It all ended up okay."
Ginny kept sniffing, and Hermione sighed.
"Your guilt seems to be tearing you up inside," she said quietly. "How long has this been going on?"
Ginny sniffed. "Since I hurt Professor Burbage."
"Since Professor Burbage was attacked," Hermione corrected. "You didn't attack her; Tom did. You can't keep torturing yourself like this."
Ginny's lower lip wobbled. "R-right."
Hermione bit her lip and looked at Ginny, considering. Ginny was still suppressing tiny sobs.
"You are not okay," she said finally. "There are two ways I can think of to help you feel okay again."
"What?" Ginny asked, looking up at her, tears clinging to her eyelashes. "What are they?"
"One," Hermione said, "you go to a Mind Healer and talk to them about everything that happened, and they help you process it and come to terms with what happened to you."
"No!" Ginny objected. She looked horrified. "Hermione, I can't tell anyone what happened! I can't. I would get in so much trouble, my parents would be so disappointed in me—"
"Then we won't do that," Hermione soothed. "Option two: you could forget about what happened to you, so you don't feel guilty anymore."
Ginny looked up at her, confused.
"I can't just forget, Hermione," she said. "I've tried. But the guilt just keeps returning—"
"Magically," Hermione said. "We could cast a Memory Charm to help you forget."
Ginny paused, looking at Hermione with wide eyes.
"You can cast Memory Charms?" she said suspiciously.
"I have never cast a Memory Charm on a person without their full knowledge and agreement of it," Hermione promised Ginny. "But there are times when Memory Charms are good things, when some things are too much to bear." She gave Ginny a pointed look. "Like now."
Ginny hesitated.
"I would like to forget," she admitted quietly. "I think it'd be nice to not feel so guilty anymore."
"Then," Hermione said, "that is what we will do."
Given the complexity and number of the memories that would need altered, Hermione called upon the resident expert she knew on the matter: Tracey. A request of a nearby first year saw Tracey fetched from the dungeons to meet her in the Entrance Hall.
"Do you realize how much gossip I'm missing, being here?" Tracey grumbled. "The Common Room is still buzzing with rumors about what you meant when you unloaded on Blaise."
"That was rather loud, wasn't it?" Hermione said, wincing. "I didn't realize at the time."
Tracey smirked as they went up the stairs.
"I'd say," she said. "Going on about how you scorched your nerves and something about the ghosts of the school… rumors are flying around wildly, Hermione, and Blaise isn't speaking to anyone."
"He's not?" Hermione was surprised. "I'd figure he'd be in the thick of it. He loves gossip."
"Not this time," Tracey said, her voice a sing-song tone. "He won't tell anyone what you two were fighting about, which makes it all the more mystical. Leading rumors are that you two were trying to switch bodies by pushing your spirits into each other, or that you were trying to command the ghosts of the school to become your own personal army."
Hermione was startled into laughter.
"That's mad," she said, shaking her head. "I would never."
"I know," Tracey said, shrugging. "You have a very particular set of morals, and controlling others violates that, I think." She grinned at her. "The others don't quite realize that yet, though. They see you as powerful and hear whispers of your revenge, and they don't know just what to expect with you."
Hermione briefed Tracey on what they would be doing on the way to the library, Tracey's eyebrows rising high.
"So… what I hear you saying is I need to erase all the memories of the times that are already gaps in her memory," she said. "Empty places at the same times I made empty places in Rhamnaceae's memory."
Hermione winced. "Yes. Exactly."
Tracey gave her a sideways look. "Have you made a promise to Ginny?"
"I might have told her I wouldn't tell anyone directly about some more sensitive things," Hermione said delicately.
"In that case," Tracey said, "hypothetically, how would Ginny Weasley have ended up being the Heir of Slytherin, if it had been her?"
Hermione scowled.
"Hypothetically, Lucius Malfoy would have set her up to be possessed," she said darkly. "It wouldn't be like the Dark Lord chose her himself, just Lucius Malfoy acting on a grudge against the Weasleys. Hypothetically, of course."
Tracey smirked. "Of course."
They continued up the many stairs to the library.
"Of course," Tracey said lightly. "Lucius Malfoy is a very interesting enemy to have, isn't he?"
"I daresay he doesn't consider me an enemy," Hermione said dryly. "I saved the life of his son, didn't I?"
Tracey smirked. "But you consider him your enemy, don't you?"
Their conversation was cut off by their arrival at the library, and Hermione guided Tracey through the stacks to the back of the library, where Ginny was hiding in a nook, balled up on the carpet with her knees tucked into her chest. Her eyes widened when she saw Tracey.
"No, no. You said you wouldn't tell—"
"Hi Ginny. My name is Tracey." Tracey's voice was soft, soothing – a tone Hermione had never heard her use before – as she dropped to her knees. "Hermione asked for some help charming away some of your bad memories so you can sleep. I promise I don't have to look at them, if you're worried about your privacy."
Ginny hesitated, looking to Hermione, and Hermione nodded as she sat down as well.
"Tracey is good at this," she told her. "She can help you, Ginny. She just needs you to say 'yes'."
Ginny gnawed on her lip for a long moment, looking torn.
"Okay," she said finally. She looked at Tracey, tears pooling in her eyes. "Please. I—I want to forget."
Tracey raised her wand, her voice gentle.
"Obliviate."
Hermione watched as Tracey worked, fascinated. There was a thin thread of magic in the air that Hermione could see, a white light that connected Ginny's temple to the tip of Tracey's wand. Ginny's eyes had rolled back, and Tracey's were closed in concentration.
"How many are we looking for?" she murmured. "Each of the five attacks. Are there any more?"
"One of killing roosters before Halloween," Hermione murmured. "I don't know quite what day that was on. And one of her giving me a diary, just after the winter break. Err— anything to do with a magic diary, really."
Tracey continued concentrating for a long ten minutes, Hermione keeping watch on the library around them, standing guard. When Tracey finished, she stretched and stood up while Ginny's eyes refocused, leaving her looking confused.
"Are you okay? You fell," Tracey said, her voice laden with concern. "Do you need a hand?"
Puzzled, Ginny took Tracey's hand and was helped to her feet. She looked around at both of the Slytherin girls, lost.
"Did you need anything else?" Tracey prompted. "Or did you just want to thank Hermione for saving the school?"
"Oh!" Ginny nodded rapidly. "Yes, that was all. Thank you, Hermione!"
She scurried from the library, confused, and Hermione turned to Tracey, impressed.
"That was well done," she said, and Tracey grinned as they left the library.
"That was much easier," she said. "I wasn't fighting against her mind the entire time. I see why you like to get their permission."
"It's not Dark that way," Hermione argued, and Tracey smirked, waving off her concern.
"I know, I know," she said, dismissive. She looked up at her. "I would have wiped her memory for you even if she didn't agree to it, you know."
Hermione balked. "What?"
"She had incriminating memories," Tracey said simply. "Her only loyalty to you laid in not getting caught. If her guilt overwhelmed her, she might have told someone something, which could have led to suspicion being placed on you."
Hermione held still.
"It doesn't matter now, though," Tracey said. "She agreed, and I got rid of all the memories of those times she had, so she can't tell anyone the things she doesn't know." Her eyes slid sideways to hers. "I got rid of the one of her finding a diary in her cauldron during the summer, as well as a couple details of a certain fight in Flourish and Blotts."
Hermione's mouth was dry. "That's good. Very thorough."
Tracey raised an eyebrow.
"Evil diary, huh," she said, tapping her chin thoughtfully. She looked at her. "Do you still have it?"
"And if I did?" Hermione shot back, folding her arms.
Tracey just grinned.
"Well, that sounds like fun," she said. Her eyes were alight with mischief. "Is there really a handsome evil boy in there that tries to possess you?"
Hermione groaned. "You have no idea."
