Hello, darlings. I hope you are all doing well. I can report I am hanging in there. Keep your fingers crossed that everything falls into place like I need. Otherwise I am demanding a restart for 2025. But, you lovely people enjoy this chapter. I enjoy all of your comments and support, even the ones that just read the chapter and smile.
On a side note Animeworld2.0 has request to add reading this story to their YouTube channel, Infinity Harry. I agreed so long as no monetary compensation is attempted as a direct result. It is under the title What if Hermione Was the Last True Druid of the Wizarding World. So, if that is your cup of tea, check it out. And legal disclaimer- I own none of this and make no money off of it.
Chapter 26 Time Marches On
Hermione encountered Luna on her way to the library. "Oh, hello, So glad to see you up and well," the younger girl said in her airy way.
"Glad to be up and well and seeing you, too," Hermione smiled. "How are you?"
"As well as can be," answered Luna. She fell in step with the older girl.
"Um, Luna? Where are your shoes?"
"Oh, they vanish from time to time. They'll reappear like the rest of my things."
"Are they suppose to vanish?"
"No, the norgmels affect my roommates. They make them carry things off. They return them when the effects wear off." Luna shrugged unbothered. Hermione's eyebrows rose. "It's fine."
"It isn't," replied Hermione. "It's wrong, regardless of the reason." She stopped walking and took Luna's hands. She cast an anti-theft charm on the blonde. She used the one from the Black Library. "That should stop the norgmels, at least. Does nothing against nifflers, just so you know."
"Very little does," Luna replied sagely. "You didn't have to, but thank you."
"You're welcome. We are friends, after all."
A bright grin stretched across Luna's face, "Yeah, we are."
A series of mysterious illness in Ravenclaw broke the tension of the looming Gryffindor/Slytherin quidditch match. There were the usual taunts and jeers, but the distraction kept things from building to the levels of previous years. The morning of the big game the Great Hall buzzed with excitement. The players of both teams ate lightly, nerves keeping them from eating too heavily. Hermione used her key chain charm to wish Marcus good luck. Before she knew it, she joined the throngs making their way to the pitch. Neville steered Dahlia Flint to sit between them. He handed both of them a small Slytherin flag. Loudly he explained, "Dahlia should get to cheer for both her House and her brothers. And she shouldn't have to do it alone." He looked around daring the others to disagree. Wisely, no one objected, in part because Ron would have been the one to do so, and he was playing in the match.
Both teams exploded into action. And maintained the fast pace. Players zoomed about in constant motion. The three of them waved the flags when Slytherin scored. They cheered loudly when their own team did the same. "Novel concept, cheering on both teams," remarked Neville.
"Far more enjoyable," said Hermione.
Gryffindor won, but only because Harry caught the snitch. It may have been the closest game she ever attended, magical or muggle. She left the stands hoping to catch Marcus before getting swept up in the celebrations. She heard the tail end of Malfoy's snide comments about Mrs. Weasley and the family's finances when he taunted Fred and Harry. Malfoy missed Jasper's crestfallen face and Marcus's flash of shame. Their own financial status wasn't far from the Weasleys. Having only three children instead of seven hid it better.
Coherent thought fled as she took in all of their faces and imagined the feelings of the people nearest her heart. She stalked forward, "You, troglodytic arse!" Her fist connected with his face for the second time in his life. This time she followed with an upper cut to the gut. Malfoy crumpled to ground. "Get up and fight, you poncy git. If your father's going to hear of this at least make it worth the tale." She kicked him.
"Hem, hem, what is going on here?"
The others drew back in apprehension, but Hermione's mind no longer cared about the dangerous image the woman wanted to project. "A long overdue bollocking," she growled without taking his eyes off of Malfoy.
"How unsportsmanlike like. A lifetime ban on all combatants," snapped Umbridge.
Hermione turned to regard the squat woman, "Define combatants?"
"Anyone involved in the physical altercation," Umbridge looked smug.
"Guess we're banned for life, Malfoy."
"No," Umbridge started to correct her.
"Yes. This fight is between me and Malfoy. We are the combatants by your definition."
"She is correct, Delores,"said Professor McGonagall reaching them. "Miss Granger and Mr. Malfoy were the only ones engaged in a physical confrontation. The rest of you may go, I will take the combatants to Professor Dumbledore." She assisted Malfoy to his feet. He glared at Umbridge. The others fled.
"Now, that is to say," started the toady woman, "I never intended for Mr. Malfoy to be punished."
"Only the innocent spectators and Miss Granger?" inquired McGonagall.
"No, that's not, I wasn't," stammered Umbridge.
"Now, Delores, just this morning you lectured us on the importance of discipline. As you decreed, the combatants will be banned." Behind the deputy headmistress Hermione smirked and Malfoy stared daggers at the woman.
"Perhaps I was too hasty with such a strong punishment."
"No, no, you were quite clear with your advice, Delores. We should follow it. Strictest discipline and all that."
"As it was my punishment, I can decided to rescind it. Obviously, they have both learned their lesson and will refrain from brawling after matches." Umbridge focused on Malfoy as she spoke.
"Have you both?" asked McGonagall.
"Yes, ma'am," said Malfoy. The three of them looked at Hermione.
"No more brawls after quidditch matches," she promised.
"There. We can let this go just this once," Umbridge said before walking away as quickly as she could.
Draco fled as soon Professor McGonagall released them. Hermione waited, she expected the strict teacher to assign her detention for attacking Malfoy. McGonagall regarded her for a moment before speaking. "I cannot help but consider all the times Mr. Malfoy scampered off unpunished and others bore the brunt. Only fair we even the score. But please, no brawling in the future."
"I'll try, professor."
The post win celebration noise reached her before she opened the portrait. Just inside the entrance it nearly knocked her back. A roar of approval greeted her. "Don't get too excited. When faced with the threat of Lucius Malfoy's wrath Umbitch crumbled like a house of cards. No punishment for anyone."
"You still beat his arse!" declared Fred. "It was glorious to see."
"His comments about your brooms was a low blow," said Katie Bell.
"Imagine how badly we would have beat them with better brooms," joked George.
"Too right."
The embarrassment of having to back down made Umbridge worse as the days passed. Each class became a litany of copying the book in silence while she stated the ministry would protect them if questioned. She also began observing the other professors, openly critiquing and needling some of them. Then began the rules. Sirius reported slow movement in the push back at the ministry about her methods. "Now what?" Harry asked Hermione. It seemed the minister was unofficially in agreement with whatever her end goal was.
"We do what we've always done, we solve the problem ourselves," she shrugged. "We'll talk over Christmas."
The Weasleys and Harry were missing the morning the Hogwarts Express was scheduled to take them home. When interrogated Hermione stared blankly at Umbridge. "Speak up, you must know something, girl," the woman snapped.
"I am very sorry, I don't. No one woke me in the night or told me anything. I hope everything is okay."
"You didn't ask after them?" demanded Umbridge.
"If I needed to know someone would have told me. And who could have told me anything? They've all gone. While I am concerned, I don't need to know everything at all times. Have a Happy Christmas, or Joyous Yule, if that is your preferred holiday." The girl walked away before the stunned professor could demand she return and answer questions.
Using her key chain she sent Marcus a message to meet on the train. Since not all the students returned home over the break it was possible to find a smaller empty compartment. A repelling charm mixed with a Notice-Me-Not spell granted privacy. Add in a silencing charm and no one would be the wiser. "So Potter and the Weasleys are missing?" he asked joining her.
"Mr. Weasley took ill during the night. It involved Harry somehow. But I thought we could enjoy a little time together before the craziness of the holidays. My parents aren't coming home for the holidays and the Weasleys will be at Black's..."
"So, who knows how often you can get away. I get it." Marcus finished by pulling her into his lap. "I won't turn down an early Yule present." He pressed his lips to her neck. "Especially one in such a pretty package."
She giggled, "That was corny."
"Yet you laughed."
She wiggled around until she straddled him, "I did." She kissed him lightly. "But it was a pity laugh."
"I'll show you a pity laugh," he tickled her sides.
She convulsed with laughter, "Oh. Oh, stop. I take it back. You're hilarious." His hands slowed and flattened to change to caress. Hermione moaned. She wrapped her arms around his neck. She fondled the shell of his ear, reveling in his shivers and reactions. He pulled her against him more firmly. She lowered her face to his claiming his lips in a passionate kiss.
When he swiped his tongue against her bottom lip she parted them to tangle her tongue with his. His hands moved to knead her bum. She moaned and ground against him. Instinctively, his hips bucked up against her. In response she repeated the action which prompted her to repeat her actions. He groaned and dropped his head back against the seat. "Hermione."
"Yes?" she asked innocently.
"That feels amazing," he whispered. She ground down against him enjoying the heady feeling of power his expression gave her. He played with the hem of her shirt, grazing the bare skin of her stomach occasionally. She leaned into him encouragingly. Emboldened he slipped his hands under her clothes to run his hands sides on his way up to cup her breasts. "Hmm."
She moaned in response and pushed against him firmly. He pressed against her as he massaged the soft flesh encased in a simple cotton bra. "Marcus, yes." She began moving faster. He matched her speed. Their actions grew more erratic as they both chased orgasms. "Oh, oh gods, Marcus!" she cried, everything in her tensing before releasing.
"Hermione!" he pressed against her. They slumped together. "Simply amazing."
She cleaned them up with a wave of her wand, "Yes, you are." She shifted off his lap. He gathered into his arms. She snuggled closer. They lay facing the same direction on their sides. Marcus kissed the shell of her ear and the side of her neck. They lay there for a few minutes before she rolled over the face him. She kissed him one last time and stood. "I'll head out first. I plan on trying to see you at least once over the break."
"I hope you can. I'll miss you." She smiled wistfully as she slipped out the door. Marcus lay on the seat for another minute or so wishing things were different. That the twat known as Lord Voldemort never existed. That Hermione was in any other House. For that matter, that he was in another House. He sighed. He wasn't swotty enough for Ravenclaw, nice enough for Hufflepuff, or brave enough for Gryffindor. He sat up and went in search of Adrian and the rest of their friends before he could begin wallowing.
Hermione joined Neville and Luna, neither asked where she had been. Something she greatly appreciated. She didn't want to lie to her friends, but she would. She had no idea why Ron insisted she sucked at lying, she'd been doing it successfully for years. Neither of the two asked questions she couldn't, or wouldn't, answer about their missing friends either. Instead, Luna inquired if the Longbottoms learned anything further about the Grotto Incident. "Nothing official," he said slowly. "All the ministry knows is someone enchanted them to be angry and hate humans. Then they unleashed them on our lands." He ran his fingers through his hair. "But Gran's investigator says dark leaning families have been grumbling about a failed gambit. He thinks their complaints hint that the beasts were suppose to attack us at some point in the future. Either when one of us was in the woods, or in winter when game would have been scarce." He shuddered. "The investigator doesn't think they knew about the party beforehand, or the erklings. Those pests might have been a coincidence."
"So, Voldemort is his theory?" Hermione asked.
"His followers any way. He's not sure about the why, though?"
"To devastate the opposition," remarked Luna softly. "If your grandmother fell to them you would be too young to speak against the dark before they could consolidate power. If it was you, your grandmother would be distracted by her grief. And a message would be sent to the light- we can reach you anywhere, fear us."
"Monsters," spat Neville.
A discordant feeling stirred in Hermione, "Not all of them. Some of them are scared for themselves, for their families. They see no way out, afraid the bad times are back. We have to remain flexible enough to see the differences. Not second chance after second chance for the unrepentant, but salvation for those not truly lost."
He examined her face closely, "This is important you you, isn't it?"
"You can't have light without dark. The world is filled with shades of gray. It is so easy to lose your way in the dark without hope."
Neville nodded slowly, "No one is all good or all bad."
"More like we all have the capacity for good and evil. Some people choose evil because they can't find the good anymore."
"I think I understand."
Luna looked at her in amused awe, "That is quite deep, Hermione. Are you ready for the test of conviction that's coming?"
"Is anyone truly?" countered Hermione. "I won't be a doormat, nor so willing to dole out second chances I give my enemies the keys to the castle. But I want to save those wretches lost because the light dimmed too low." From there the conversation turned lighter more innocent topics.
At King's Cross Dahlia appeared in front of her grinning impishly. "Come meet my mum and brother, Jasper. You know everyone else." She grabbed Hermione's hand and dragged her to where the Flint family waited. There Dahlia made a show of making introductions. Remus followed her with her trunk.
"It's nice to meet you. Dahlia is an absolute delight."
"Thank you for looking out for her. She speaks highly of you," said Gwendolyn.
"You're welcome. Joyous Yule to you all. Happy Christmas, if you prefer."
"To you as well," Marcus replied politely, smiling at her.
Hermione waved farewell and turned to Remus, "Where to?"
Home, we're joining the rest of them to visit Arthur in St. Mungo's."
"What happened?"
"Molly will explained when we get there."
The others waited for them in the parlor of Grimmauld Place. "Sorry we had to leave you behind," Harry said sheepishly.
"No, I understand we couldn't all disappear in the night. But what happened?"
"Harry had a nightmare about an attack being ordered on the Order of Phoenix member guarding something in the Department of Mysteries. Which occurred last night. Thanks to Harry's dreams we managed to find him soon enough afterwards to save him. Harry was still in McGonagall's office when the Weasleys were summoned," explained Sirius.
"How?" she asked.
"I think I dreamed of Voldemort. That I was Voldemort," admitted Harry. "I could feel his anger about his followers' failure. He order them to use violence to get what he wanted. The searing pain in my head woke me up."
"Interesting. How is Arthur?" Hermione asked.
"Stable," answered Mrs. Weasley. "He's a long way from fully recovered. Visiting hours should be starting, we can head over to see him."
The group flooed to the hospital and then headed up to the ward for Mr. Weasley. He reclined in the cot talking to a sullen looking young man with deep teeth marks on his arms and claw marks on his face. "A good friend of mine is a werewolf. He leads a full life."
"I am not discussing this with you," hissed the other man.
Whatever response Mr. Weasley intended died on his lips at the sight of his family, "Molly! My darling children."
"Arthur Nigel Weasley, you leave that man alone. You are supposed to be resting." Mrs. Weasley stood at the foot of the cot, her hands on her hips. You're going to reopen your wound. And it keeps popping back open without much effort on your part."
"You worry too much, my love," soothed Arthur.
A young looking healer bustled over, "Hello, family. Has the patient told you about our new idea?" He grinned excitedly. "We're trying muggle stitches to hold the edges of the wounds together, nasty bugger that it is."
Molly's eyes bugged at mention of muggle medicines. Arthur eyed his wife nervously, "Now, Molly, it's perfectly safe."
"It is," cut in Hermione, feeling annoyed at Mrs. Weasley's attitude. "They require care, but they have been the common standard of practice for centuries."
Mrs. Weasley flashed a glare at her. The healer missed it and nodded eagerly. "Yes, they have been indeed. We're hoping they will succeed where magic has failed to hold the skin together." Molly turned her annoyed look at the healer and her husband.
Sirius changed the subject and the family visited with their patriarch. Hermione reached out with her magic and felt along Arthur's wound. The skin strained against the stitches, wanting to obey the command of the remaining magic to separate and keep separating until the body was ripped apart. She stood by the window, illuminated by the streaming sunlight, and pulled those remnants of magic out. She encouraged healing along the ragged edges of skin and subcutaneous fat. As the man was not at risk of dying now, she would let time and medicine do the work and take the credit. Muggle solutions not being disregarded out of hand could be a boon. She noticed Ron watching her closely. She nodded reassuringly. He relaxed and smiled his thanks.