Dumbledore was absent from meals the last few days of term, leaving the issue of Lupin's attack unaddressed. Professor McGonagall was the one to declare Slytherin the winner of the House Cup at the leaving feast, prompting cheers and ecstatic rejoicing from Jade Rince, who had won the House Cup all seven years of her Hogwarts career. Ron had sneered at Hermione (Ron thought all five Gryffindors who'd faced down Lupin should have gotten a hundred points each for bravery, while Hermione thought they all deserved detention until the end of time for endangering everyone), but Hermione was too happy to really care.

When their final marks came out, Hermione was thrilled to be at the top of the class once again. She'd even received extra credit in Divination, for her 'most timely and accurate prophecy', and she'd seemingly impressed Trelawney so much that she'd protested upon hearing Hermione had dropped her class. Snape told Hermione the next morning after the leaving feast, when she went to hand in her class drop form.

"She insisted you were just beginning to open your 'Inner Eye'," Snape told her, signing the form with a flourish and handing it back. "Apparently, though you were dismally uninspiring for most of the class, crystallomancy and scrying is your strength."

"Oh really?" Hermione signed the form as well, underneath Trewlaney's and Snape's signatures, and the form disappeared in an orange flash of light. "I just got lucky, I guess."

"'Timely and accurate prophecy' indeed." Snape was unamused. "I am not a fool, Miss Granger. You took an immense risk."

"You took an immense risk," Hermione shot back. "Running out to fight off a werewolf alone—"

"It is my duty to protect the students of this school," Snape cut her off. "It was a risk, but one I was well-equipped to handle and morally obligated to take." He raised an eyebrow. "You were not morally obligated to guess what was yet to come for your exam."

Hermione bit her lip.

"I knew it was a risk," she admitted. "But I'm horrible in Divination. And I… I really wanted to be at the top of the class."

Snape rolled his eyes and sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose tightly.

"You risked it all for your class ranking?" His exasperation was evident. "I understand you judged the risk of your life and soul to be worth your little 'mission', but to risk being caught just for an exam grade—"

"I did think through the repercussions before I did it," Hermione defended. "I mean, at least a little. And it was worth it – she just thinks I caught a glimpse of something and had an accurate prediction. There's nothing suspicious about that, not when that's exactly what I was supposed to do."

"It was foolhardy and impulsive," Snape snarled. "I should exile you and banish you to Gryffindor."

Hermione grinned despite herself.

"Is that safe?" she said. "Here, I have other Slytherins to keep me in check. In Gryffindor, I'd be ruling the lion pride within a month."

Snape rolled his eyes.

"Yes, well," he said. "There is that."

Hermione watched her teacher, subtly picking at her nails with nervousness, and Snape sighed. He looked very tired, and he seemed older than he was. After a long moment, Hermione's burning curiosity won out.

"Professor… how did you find out so fast?" Hermione asked. "About Azkaban, I mean. I thought I had at least until the next day for the news to spread…"

"I was with the Headmaster when he received the call for help from Fudge," Snape said. He gave her a look. "The Ministry might not have disclosed the details to the press, but they didn't hold back with the Headmaster."

"They didn't?" Hermione prodded, curious. "What did they say?"

"They described animals in the flames, ones that physically consumed the dementors as they fled." Snape arched an eyebrow. "Anyone with passing familiarity to the Dark Arts can recognize Fiendfyre from that description."

"Oh." Hermione bit her lip. "Then… did…?"

"The Headmaster immediately left to assist, to see if anyone had escaped in the commotion and to help resecure the prison," Snape told her. "He, of course, feared the worst; the original reports did not have details other than the fire, and he worried the Dark Lord had made his move."

Hermione nodded. "That's logical."

"I, on the other hand…" Snape gave Hermione a sharp look, though it was tempered by his exasperation. "There is only one person I knew of who would be so impulsive, so confident, to try and destroy the dementors with Fiendfyre, and do it alone. One person who had a well-documented grudge against the dementors, and one who had recently mastered Fiendfyre for an unknown purpose."

"It's not a well-documented grudge," Hermione argued. "Sure, I've complained about them, but so has everyone else. Nobody liked the dementors being around—"

"It was well-documented enough to me," Snape snarled, cutting her off. His eyes were piercing. "Even still, I couldn't believe it, and I went to confirm to myself that it was impossible. Imagine my dismay when you were not in your bed."

Hermione bit her lip uneasily. "I…"

"Zabini is your compatriot in arms, so I went to him to demand the truth," Snape went on. His eyes were sharp. "And you were in his bed, practically glowing with magic, despite the glibness of his responses."

"I…" Hermione faltered. "I just reached out for help. Something went wrong, and I instinctively reached for Blaise. And I needed an alibi…"

Snape sighed. He pinched the bridge of his nose tightly for a long moment.

"The world is not yours alone to fix, Miss Granger," he said. He opened his eyes to look at her. "You do realize that, don't you?"

Hermione bit her lip. "I mean, yes. But… if I can do something, if I can help…"

"Is waiting to grow up so hard for you?" Snape asked. "Can you not wait until adulthood to rage your war upon the world?"

"I'm not waging war!" Hermione protested. "I'm—I'm just politically active. I'm trying to change the world for the better—"

"So said Alexander the Great." Snape looked at her from between his hands. "So, too, said Julius Caesar."

Hermione faltered. "Well—they were good. They built great empires—"

"So too said Genghis Khan," said Snape pointedly. "So, too, said Joseph Stalin. So too said Mao Zedong."

"That's not fair!" Hermione burst out. "I'm trying to do good! I just want to make the world a better place, to make it so everything is fair and everyone can be happy—"

Snape barked a harsh laugh. "By the time you reach your majority, Hermione Granger, you will be far too great and terrible to be content with anything as simple as happiness."

Hermione flinched. Snape's eyes glittered.

"For you, to be happy is to stagnate, comrade," Snape said. He was quoting something, something Hermione didn't recognize. "The moment you are happy, you will effectively be dead."

Hermione bit her lip, dropping her eyes. Snape took mercy on her after a moment.

"And yet… many great men try to remake the world in their image. Light wizards as well as Dark," Snape sighed. "Of everyone who has tried… I am curious to see what your vision of the world would be," he said. His voice was quiet, low. "But Miss Granger – please tell me next time you attempt anything so foolhardy as this."

Hermione's eyes flew up to him. Snape's eyes had softened.

"You—you won't tell?" she asked, fighting to keep her lip from trembling.

Snape snorted. "Who would believe me if I did? I still haven't the slightest idea how you got there myself."

Hermione managed a tremulous grin to herself, and Snape gave her the ghost of a smile.

"If Slytherin hadn't already won the House Cup, I'd be tempted to give you points," he admitted. "No matter how Gryffindorish and foolhardy that was… it was an impressive feat of magic. I have no idea how you did it, but the greatest respect that you did."

Hermione beamed at him, and Snape rolled his eyes.

"Go pack up your things with your classmates," he instructed her. "The Train leaves soon."

Hermione practically skipped from his office to the dorms, smiling all the while.


The train home was abuzz with gossip. Word leaked out that Dumbledore hadn't gotten the chance to fire Lupin; he'd resigned first. Geoffrey Hooper was out of the Hospital Wing, holding court in one of the front compartments and telling everyone all about the attack. And the Ministry was still keeping mum about the attack on Azkaban, refusing to disclose whether anyone had escaped or whether they had any leads on the Valkyrie. There was lots to gossip about.

Hermione desperately hoped they'd never have any leads on the Valkyrie, though she wondered what she'd be charged with if they ever did figure out it had been her. It wasn't illegal to kill dementors, she didn't think, so could they only really get her for breaking and entering and destruction of property?

She rather hoped she'd never have to find out. The Wizarding legal and judicial system left much to be desired.

Hermione was glad her coven all managed to find a compartment together on the Hogwarts Express, allowing her a brief respite. If she had to hear Draco go on about how Dumbledore should resign for the Lupin fiasco for the entire train ride, she was likely to do something foolish and violent.

"Daddy says the coven house is all ready," Luna told them all, happy. She looked at Harry. "We can all meet there next week, as soon as you can escape your aunt and uncle's."

Harry nodded. "That should be good."

"What's wrong, Potter?" Blaise nudged Harry. "You were so excited to be on your own. Afraid you're going to be lonely there now?"

"No, no," Harry protested. "I'm glad of it. It's just…" He heaved a sigh. "Sirius wrote to me saying it was probably best if I didn't visit him at his house this summer. He's going to be helping Professor Lupin recover."

Hermione winced. "That's…"

"It's not like I wanted to spend the summer with my godfather anyway, not really," Harry said bitterly. "Still. Makes me glad I already had other plans, doesn't it? When my 'godfather' would throw me aside so easily and condemn me to stay at the Dursley's…"

Susan blinked behind turquoise lenses.

"The ex-convict who'd been subjected to dementors for over a decade is going to help the suicidal werewolf's mental health?" she asked. It was clear from her tone that she didn't believe a word of what she was saying. "That seems like a fabulous idea."

Harry shrugged helplessly. "They used to be best friends. And they don't know where else to put him, really."

"I understand that Lupin feels guilty," Hermione said. "And to some degree, he should. But no one died, and Geoffrey will be okay, ultimately. If we can get the Moon-key legislation moved up, he might never even have to transform."

That brought a small grin to Harry's face.

"Hooper's been almost excited about it, I think," he confided in them. "Going around the tower, girls falling all over themselves to help the brave lad who helped save the day. He's been going off on how he'll be a good werewolf, how because he was protecting others when he was bitten, that he'll have that protective instinct when he turns himself, and he'll be able to be a werewolf who protects humans from other werewolves on full moon nights."

"That is not how it works," Blaise said, annoyed, and Harry laughed.

"I know, I know," he said. "But the guy just got bitten by a werewolf. I'm not about to rain on his parade."

The coven lapsed into silence as the train went along, Harry and Susan drifting off at some point, leaning against the windows. Luna and Blaise played cards while Hermione worked on a letter to Cornelius Fudge, nominating Snape for an Order of Merlin. If she had earned one for protecting the school from the basilisk, Snape deserved one for facing down an angry werewolf as well.

"It was you."

Hermione blinked, looking up to see Tracey in the doorway. Tracey was looking down at her with wide eyes, something akin to fear and awe in them.

"I'm sorry?" Hermione said, confused. "What?"

"I figured it out," Tracey breathed. "It was you. The Tower. Azkaban. Everything."

Immediately, Blaise was out of his seat and tugging Tracey into the compartment, closing and locking the door behind her. Luna was checking over Harry and Susan to make sure they were asleep as Tracey sat down across from Hermione, both girls staring at each other.

"What do you mean?" Hermione asked Tracey. She managed to keep her voice even, a feat she was rather proud of, and Tracey took a deep breath.

"Your tarot readings," she said. "Each time we did them, you always had 'the Tower' as an outcome. And this last time, you didn't even seem worried by it, despite the Tower being one of the worst cards in the deck. And you said—you said—" she broke off, taking a breath "and this last time, you said, 'I'm the lightning,' and you smiled."

Tracey met Hermione's eyes, steady.

"It was literal," she said. "You were the one who attacked Azkaban, who brought the tower crumbling down."

Hermione exchanged a glance with Blaise and Luna. Blaise sat expressionless, but Luna nodded slightly, and Hermione exhaled.

"To be honest, I don't think it was meant literally," she admitted. "I hardly crumbled Azkaban – I just destroyed a part of the wall. I think it more represented the institution of Azkaban as guarded by dementors crumbling down."

"But you did do it," Tracey breathed, her eyes wide. "You were the one who attacked Azkaban."

"Dementors are evil," Hermione said, her voice hard. "I did what needed to be done."

Tracey was shocked into silence, staring at Hermione.

"But… how?" she wanted to know. "The fire… how did you get there…?"

"Don't worry about it," Hermione said, shaking her head. "It's all in the past, now."

Tracey looked at Hermione for a long while, before she started laughing, almost maniacal.

"I can't believe you," she said. "Next thing I know, you'll be saving us from a goblin rebellion before breakfast like it's not even a big deal."

"She's more likely to start a goblin rebellion than stop one," Blaise muttered, and Hermione shot him a look while Tracey laughed.

"Do you have any more insane plans?" Tracey wanted to know. "Or was this the only one?"

"It wasn't insane," Hermione argued. "It was dangerous, sure, but it was a calculated risk—"

"I know, let's not even ask you – let's ask the cards," Tracey barreled over her, fishing in her pockets. "Here – shuffle, then we'll deal out cards for the summer."

"I really don't think—"

"Shut up and shuffle," Tracey directed, shoving the tarot deck into Hermione's hands. "I want to see if I really have a knack for this."

"Is this what they teach you in Divination?" Luna sat forward, amused. "I want to see how this works."

"This is ridiculous," Hermione declared, though she shuffled the cards. "For the record, I am only doing this to shut you up."

"So noted," quipped Blaise.

Tracey took the cards back.

"So first is you – what life path are you currently on?" She dealt a card. "You've got the Magician. So that means solving problems, but the solutions might be lacking. Generally it means solving problems via magic, but that doesn't have the same context for us as it does for muggles, does it? Where magic is all illusion?"

"Get on with it," Hermione said, rolling her eyes.

"Anyway, beware overconfidence," Tracey said, shooting Hermione a grin. "Next, what you're learning along your path—" she flipped a card. "Three of cups. Aw, this is nice – you're learning to count on your friends."

Blaise grinned and Tracey batted her eyelashes at Hermione, and to Hermione's mortification, she flushed. There was nothing wrong with counting on her friends, so she had no reason to be embarrassed by it, but here she was, blushing anyway.

"Next, what will you encounter along the way? You've got—" Tracey fumbled the cards, dropping several. "Wait, no, crap. Hang on—"

"Flip them," Luna said serenely. "You must have dropped them for a reason."

"Yeah, clumsiness," Blaise said, snickering, and Tracey shot him a dark look before flipping all three.

"Um. Wow. So you've got three people here: knight of swords, knight of pentacles, and queen of cups. Err…" Tracey trailed off. "There's a bunch of meanings to this, so let's just go with you'll meet a bunch of people who will all interact in some significant way."

Luna started giggling, but she didn't volunteer any more information.

"Your biggest obstacle will be…" Tracey flipped a card. "Err. Ooh. Devil reversed. That's… not good."

"Are you cheating?"

Hermione turned quickly to see Susan leaning over, watching Tracey. She hadn't realized she'd woken up. A quick glance saw Harry stretching and blinking blearily as well. Hermione supposed Tracey hadn't really bothered keeping her voice down.

"I am not!" Tracey protested. "I'm just dealing! Hermione shuffled."

Susan glanced down at the cards, then at Hermione.

"Biggest obstacle as devil reversed – that's probably You-Know-Who," she said flatly.

Hermione bit her lip. "That's… fair."

"Something you haven't considered," Tracey said, flipping the next card. "Six of swords. Which is… um. A journey? Or something? I don't really know. Next is what will help you accomplish your goals, which is…" She flipped another card. "The High Priestess. Oh! That might be me, or Luna, actually – the high priestess is associated with divination and prophecies. You've already got one prophecy made about you from Luna, right?"

"Merlin! I almost forgot!" Hermione began digging through her bag furiously. "I have to ask you about this, Luna…"

"Anyway, last card, long term goals. You've got the world." Tracey blinked. "Um. Maybe this means you want to take over the world? Or the world won't be changed, or—okay, I don't know what it means, really."

"Inner Eye got dust in it?" Blaise asked sweetly, and Tracey scoffed at him.

"Luna, I found these ages ago. The initials on them seemed like yours and your father's." Hermione handed Luna the scraps of paper. "Did your mum's first name start with 'P'?"

"Pandora," Luna said, nodding. "I must have been very young for these. I don't remember these prophecies at all."

"Wait, prophecies?" Tracey whirled to look at Hermione. "Where did you get prophecies from?"

"From the Hall of Prophecies," Hermione said, defensive. "The Unspeakable warned me to not pick up any that didn't have anything to do with me, but these two did, so—"

"You have two more prophecies made about you? And you're only just now telling me this?"

"—though, now that I think of it…" Hermione turned to Harry, drawing him into the conversation. "Harry, did you know that there's a prophecy made about you and Voldemort?"

Harry stared. "There is?"

"There is," Hermione said. "I think it was given to Dumbledore. He never told you?"

"I—no. never." Harry seemed stunned. "A prophecy about me?"

"Well, clearly we need to go and get that prophecy now," Blaise drawled. "We can check for ones about any of the coven while we're there, and then Tracey can lose her mind trying to puzzle out esoteric nonsense all summer until she goes mad."

"It's not nonsense!" Tracey protested. "Prophecies are—"

"Prophecies seem to only have the value you give to them," Hermione said, cutting her off. "But Harry—your prophecy may have already been given credence. Maybe that's why Voldemort attacked you as a baby."

"Wait, you think?" Harry's eyes grew wide. "I thought he came after my parents because they fought against him."

"That's your parents, though. You were an infant. Why kill a baby?" Hermione shrugged. "Maybe this prophecy will have a reason why."

Harry looked stunned by this information. Tracey, meanwhile, was reading the scrap of paper Hermione had pulled from her bag and was scanning over them, lips murmuring silently as she read.

"That sounds fun," Luna said, smiling. "We can all go to the Department of Mysteries. We can make a day of it."

"Coven field trip," Hermione said, grinning, and Harry snickered.

"It'll be quite the summer," said Susan, smiling. "We've still got the coven business to sort out, too – all kinds of requests. Not to mention the World Cup."

"Yeah, but we'll be together, won't we?" Hermione glanced around the compartment at her friends with a smile. "We can figure it out if we work together."

"Now you're getting all soft on us, Hermione," Blaise teased, grinning at her. "What happened to the badass Hermione who was threatening everyone?"

"I'm allowed to have multiple sides!" Hermione objected hotly, and the compartment laughed and fell into good-natured bickering. The warm glow of friendship didn't abate with the bickering, and Hermione felt herself smiling the entire way home, feeling happy, safe, and not alone as she looked forward to the summer to come.


(End of Book 3)