Hello pals, how nice to see you!

New chapter up, this one and the next one will be the same period of time, just from both Hermione and Severus' perspectives. I hope you enjoy!

Also also, I wanted to quickly address one of the reviews I got for the last chapter, to hopefully alleviate some concerns -

Harry has been written deliberately unpleasant for this part of the story, and this is mainly due to the difficulties he faced in Year 4 along with the unintentional connection to Voldemort that he is unwittingly experiencing. I personally found Harry a really difficult character to like in OotP, credit to JKR as she wrote angry teenager really well, so I've tried to replicate this in my own little way. Don't worry though! I promise you will see a change in behavior once we get to book 6 and beyond :) :)

As always, follow/fave/review, it means the world to me!


The school year flew by in a whirlwind of essays, study sessions, D.A meetings, brewing sessions, and arguments. Hermione would be the first to admit she had an almost perverse enjoyment of homework, but even she thought some of her teachers were being a bit over-the-top. Every week they'd been given revision assignments in every class, some of them had been over 4 feet in length. On more than one occasion Hermione's hand had fully cramped and she'd needed to take a walk around the black lake just to cool her nerves and temper. She had resolved to learn how to charm self-writing quills after a particularly long walk.

It was hard enough finding the time to rewrite revision essays every week, but Hermione had had the bright idea to also sign up for study sessions in each of her classes, bar potions. At the time, she had believed it would provide her with uninterrupted time each week but it turned out both Harry and Ron had had the same idea, and now each session was marred by constant questions and requests for help. At least they had the decency to act embarrassed by it, after the heated argument at the end of the Christmas break things were still delicate between the three. Still, it made what should have been a quiet opportunity to get crucial revision done, another infuriating distraction that she didn't need. The arguments between the three were still occurring regularly, with Hermione trying to keep her head down as much as she could. Despite filling up every second of her time, she still struggled to keep out the cold familiar feeling of loneliness at bay. It seeped in when she couldn't avoid it, during her sleep. It twisted her newly returned nightmares into something much more personal, much more real. On more than a few occasions she had taken advantage of a glamour charm to hide the growing bags under her eyes. All she could do was push herself further, and hope it was enough.

The D.A were meeting much less frequently as of late, in no small part due to Umbridge and her ridiculous 'High Inquisitor' status. She had made the decision to create her own little army, composed of the more prejudiced Slytherins, who seemed to have no role to play other than causing trouble for the other houses wherever they went. That, combined with the multitude of degrees enforced by Umbridge, had made doing anything other than going from class to class immensely difficult. Difficult, but not impossible. Thanks to Hermione's charmed galleons, the group had managed to meet once a week in the Room of Requirement. So far into the school year, they spent the time revising what they would need for their OWL, with a different member assigned to be lookout every week. Hermione was confident that they would all pass the exam, even Neville who after the run in with the fake Professor Moody last year had found casting offensive spells particularly difficult. It was during one of these rare sessions that the bubble they had created for themselves came crashing - quite literally - down.

The room trembled. It took the students a second to really notice what was happening, but before they could react an Umbridge-sized hole appeared where the door had previously stood. There, in all her pink ghastliness, stood a devilishly smug Umbridge, flanked by Draco Malfoy on one side and his pig-faced sidekicks Crabbe and Goyle on the other. The sadistic smile playing across Draco's face filled Hermione with terror, not for her but for the younger students who they'd convinced to join up. Her thoughts went back to that excruciating detention and couldn't bear the thought of those children suffering the same fate, regardless of Professor Snape's threats.

"Well, what a surprise." Umbridge's eyes flared with anger. "I told the minister! I told him you were creating your own little army and here you are. Detentions! All of you!" Hermione took a deep breath and stood forward.

"Professor.. Myself, Harry, and Ron were the organizers of this group and the ones communicating with Headmaster Dumbledore. The others were merely followers. We should take the blame, not them." She glanced towards Harry, who had paled at her admission but nodded back an understanding. Having pushed through the same pain as she, he had no desire to have it inflicted on the first years. A small titter left Umbridge's lips.

"Is that so..? Perhaps we would need to have a little chat, you three. The rest of you, to your houses at once! Any students caught in the halls after 10 minutes have passed will be assigned detentions for the remainder of the year!" Hermione watched as a flurry of students snatched up their bags and dashed past the intruders, and was thankful for the few who hesitated, even though she knew they needed to leave. "Now then, I think this calls for a sit down in my office, don't you?" Her sickly sweet smile returned, and another titter floated through the air. She turned to leave, and the three remaining students knew they had no choice but to follow.


Hermione felt muddled, her brain struggling to grasp what was happening around her. She was at the edge of the Forbidden Forest, the other side of the Black Lake, in the dark. Around her, Harry, Ron, Ginny, Neville, and Luna all stood around discussing 'plans'. They didn't have one, not really, and every time Hermione tried to dissuade them of their intentions, she was shot down.

"You don't have to come, you can stay here. But I can't leave Sirius at the Ministry, not on his own. He's the only family I've got left." She had never seen Harry so determined. The look in his eyes was wild, almost unhinged. She wondered if this was the result of You-Know-Who's connection with Harry's mind, she was almost positive that they were walking into a trap but what if she was wrong? The idea that she be responsible for letting Sirius fall at the hands of Death Eaters was a guilt she couldn't bear.

They had been nearing Umbridge's office when Harry had dropped. He had curled into a ball, writhing under the force of whatever gripped him. He clutched at his head like someone was hammering nails into it, his eyes scrunched tightly closed.

"What is the meaning of this Potter? Stand up at once!" Umbridge was livid, convinced that this was little more than a pathetic attempt to delay the inevitable. Hermione could tell this wasn't a fake however, she could clearly see the lines of agony around his head and neck, the white appearing on his knuckles as he gripped the fabric of his robes. She could have sworn his scar had pulsed. Whatever was happening, it wasn't good news. After a moment, the pain seemed to stop, and Harry struggled to his feet. Umbridge turned to Draco, instructing him to fetch Professor Snape and 'another vial', and turned to continue their journey. Half dragged by Crabbe and Goyle, they made their way to the office, Hermione and Ron casting worried glances at Harry the entire way.

Standing in the familiar kitten-clad room, Hermione felt a shiver of fear run through her. It was eerily quiet, save for the soft mews from the paintings, and the low crackle of the fire. No one spoke until the office door swung open again, and in strode the foreboding figure of Professor Snape, a nervous-looking Draco Malfoy in tow.

"Dolores I am a busy man, I have no interest in whatever grievances you hold with these.. Miscreants." Snape looked at each of them in turn as he spoke, holding his gaze slightly longer on Hermione, and she was sure she had seen a flicker of anger in his eyes. Anger, and.. Confusion? How bizarre.

"I only have need of your skills, Severus, not your company." She practically spat out. "I require another vial of Veritaserum immediately. These three children have been concealing information about Dumbledore's plans to take down the Ministry, and I intend to pry it out of them." Snape raised an eyebrow.

"You have already depleted my stores, Dolores. Veritaserum - being an unapproved method of interrogation - is not something I find myself stocking up on. If you require, I can have another batch brewed within the month." His voice was silky, dripping with disdain and sarcasm. He was buying them time, Hermione thought. He was helping.

"Not good enough Snape! You are deliberately being difficult! The Minister shall hear all about your unwillingness to protect his position!" Snape rolled his eyes and turned to leave.

"If that will be all Dolores-"

"Snape!" Harry's voice caused him to stop at the door, hand still on the handle. "He has Padfoot. He has Padfoot in the place that it's hidden." Snape turned slowly, staring into Harry's eyes, searching. For a moment his brow furrowed, and as quickly it was gone again, the familiar disinterested mask held firmly in place.

"Padfoot? What does he mean Snape? Where is what hidden?" He turned to Dolores, lazily looking through her.

".. I have no idea." With that he swept from the room, leaving the three firmly to the mercy of Umbridge and her cronies.

The rest had been a blur of choices made on the spur of the moment, making up ideas on the spot, and quite frankly running on nothing but adrenaline. They had somehow managed to persuade Umbridge to follow them into the Forbidden Forest. They had somehow managed to stumble across Hagrid's oversized brother Grawp. And they had somehow managed to attract the attention of the centaurs, leaving Umbridge to be.. Well, she didn't want to think about what was currently befalling the miserable excuse for a DADA teacher. Now, she was standing with the few members of Dumbledore's Army that she'd been able to contact, wondering why she was allowing herself to be complicit in dragging them into this mess.

"We can't apparate or use the floo. Brooms are technically an option but only if you want to arrive at the Ministry tomorrow. Harry surely we should just wait for the Order to step in!" Hermione pleaded with the boy, but she saw only fury and impatience at the request.

"We could always fly.." Luna piped up, as the rest of the group turned to regard her with the same puzzled look they always used. Hermione didn't have a clue what she was talking about, but Harry had broken into a grin, and had reached out to hug the bizarre Ravenclaw.

"You're a genius Luna. Come on guys, we'll be there in no time."

As Hermione allowed herself to be lifted up onto the invisible creature, she remembered vividly why she hated flying.


The Ministry of Magic during the day was a vibrant, bustling epicenter, a mix of witches and wizards to rival no other. It was chaotic, but it was organised chaos. Hermione likened it to Kings Cross Station, from the outside looking in it appeared to be madness, but the people inside were precise and focused. The Ministry at night was a very different picture. With a lack of people to fill the cavernous space, the place took on an ominous air. The high arches of the main foyer caused even the smallest sound to echo, and the cramped tunnels of the inner departments gave way to a heightened sense of claustrophobia.

Hermione knew it was a bad idea, she knew it was a trap, but she couldn't stop herself from walking forward, pressing on. The group moved quickly through what felt like endless corridors, with only Harry's strange obsession to guide them. If she was being honest with herself, it terrified her that Harry was so sure of himself, because either they were walking into the biggest trap or they were on their way to an incredibly difficult rescue mission. Either way, they would be facing Death Eaters, and Hermione was under no illusion that they weren't prepared. She couldn't see what use bat bogey hexes and jelly-legs jinxes would be against combatants skilled in Unforgivables. Still, there was no turning back now, and so gripping her wand a little tighter, she hurried along after Harry.

If the outer shell of the Ministry was ominous, it was nothing compared to the Department of Mysteries. The things they passed caused the skin on Hermione's arms to crawl, and she secretly wished she never had reason to be in this part of the Ministry again. When they finally made it to their destination, The Hall of Prophecy, Hermione knew things weren't right. It was deadly silent, you could have heard a pin drop, and it was pitch black. Surely if Sirius were in here, they'd hear him? Still, even with the whispered pleas from Hermione, Harry pushed on. The dim lights emanating from their wands cast the endless rows of crystal balls in a ghostly glow, and although visibility was still low, Hermione could tell that this room was practically endless.

"It's just up ahead, hurry!" Harry sprinted further in, but as he came to a stop next to one of the many identical rows, his face dropped. "This.. no, this isn't right.." As Hermione and the rest of the group caught up to him and looked down the aisle, they could see it was - unsurprisingly - empty. No Death Eaters, no Sirius, just more shelves filled with crystal balls.

"Uhh.. Harry.. This one's got your name on it.." There, on one of the shelves, sat a crystal ball with a small tag attached - 'Harry James Potter' was scrawled in ink. The stammer in Ron's voice matched the feelings of every one of them, and as Ron shakily picked up the ball and the strained voice began to wail, Hermione felt her heart stop in her chest.

No sooner had the orb started reciting the prophecy than the air was filled with a perilous black smoke, and cloaked figures began to appear in the darkness. Immediately, Hermione's wand was pointing at the figure closest to her - of course it was a trap. The figures were cloaked, with skull-adorned masks covering their faces. Hermione could count 10 figures, but with the visibility being so low there could easily have been more. There was a myriad of wands, all pointed at the group of teenagers. No doubt, they were surrounded by Death Eaters.

From the moment Lucius Malfoy removed his mask, time seemed to pass in a blur. There were curses, jinxes, hexes flying in every direction. Rack upon rack of misty orbs were crashing to the ground, knocking over Death Eaters as they went. The ones that didn't fall like bowling pins were relentless, pushing past the broken shelves to continue their assault. Hermione watched as the rest of the group used what little knowledge they had gained from the D.A sessions to try and repel the attack, but she knew it wouldn't last forever. Ginny and Luna were already sporting cuts and had started to flag, and the fear in Neville's eyes told her he was on the verge of breaking down. God, poor Neville, she thought as she ran. Being in a wand fight with the very people responsible for destroying part of his family must be incredibly traumatic for him. She only hoped he could hold on to his strength until backup arrived.

When Ron went down, Hermione really started to panic. He was clearly out of his mind, and she had no idea what had even attacked him, never mind how to help. The brain room was a place she never wanted to think about again, the image of Ron screaming as the fleshy mound attached itself to his arm was enough to give her nightmares for years to come. Instructing Luna to stay with the giddy boy seemed like a good idea at the time, but as she ran to join the others she couldn't shake the feeling that she was leaving them to be slaughtered. However, it was either them or Harry and, unfortunately for Ron, she was expected to save Harry.

The battle within the aptly named Death Chamber was brutal. All the training in the world couldn't have prepared the teenagers for the flurry between Death Eater, Order member, and student. Streaks of purple, red, and green illuminated the otherwise darkened room, the only other light coming from the bizarre archway standing in the center. Hermione was exhausted, she had been running for what felt like hours, and her magic was draining quickly. She had fired off so many spells she couldn't remember what she had cast and what she hadn't. At one point she thought she'd knocked a couple of Death Eaters out but there were so many of them that she couldn't be sure. That encounter had felt easy, she'd had faster reflexes and both were down after only three spells. Now, she found herself up against another of You-Know-Who's minions and this match-up felt decidedly unfair. He was much taller than her, a lean build and the little that she saw of his face looked hard and sunken. His eyes glinted with something close to mania, and as they danced around each other she could see traces of a smile, as if this was little more than child's play. Hermione fired off multiple Stupefy spells, a Body-Bind curse and a variety of stinging and cutting hexes that came to mind, but the larger man deflected them with ease. She dodged a badly timed Dancing Feet spell and fired back another Body-Bind, this one hitting the Death Eater in the thigh. Unable to shift his feet any longer, she watched as he fell to the ground, and quickly cast Expelliarmus to rid him of his wand. Happy with the disarm, Hermione took a deep breath to steady herself. What she didn't notice was the fallen Death Eater's eyes firmly locked on her, and as she saw the deadly streak of purple shoot towards her she was a fraction of a second late to cast a shielding charm.

The curse hit her like a fiery whip, the pain spread quickly from her navel right up to her shoulder and she felt wet although she was sure it wasn't from water. Her body started to contort and sting, the air had been knocked out of her and her mind became muddled. She fell to her knees and her vision started to swim but she was determined to hold onto consciousness, terrified of what might happen should she fall. She could make out the faint blur of the previously fallen Death Eater struggling to his feet - the Body Bind must have worn off quicker than she had hoped. Pointing her wand at the figure, she attempted to recast the spell but found no sound would come out. Despite her best efforts, Hermione dropped her wand and allowed her body to collapse, the last image of the figure stalking towards her burned into the back of her eyelids.